Hardly a Husband (Free Fellows League 3)
Henderson frowned at him. "Sir, the point in asking Lord Mayhew to escort the ladies is to have him accompany them to Lady Garrison's this evening so that you might avoid it."
Jarrod smiled. "I'm aware of the point, Henderson. But Lady Dunbridge is expecting me tonight and I don't intend to go back upon my word at this late hour." He knew Henderson was right. He knew that it would be a relatively simple matter to ask Lord Rob to stand in his stead this evening, but Jarrod wouldn't consider the possibility because deep inside, he knew he wanted to see Sarah again. He'd been sorely disappointed when she hadn't joined him and her aunt for breakfast. In fact, Jarrod hadn't realized just how much he'd looked forward to seeing Sarah until she'd failed to appear. Jarrod met Henderson's gaze in the mirror. "It's time I accepted one of Lady Garrison's invitations. Past time, I think."
Henderson shook his head. "I don't like the idea of you going there alone."
"I know you don't," Jarrod said. "And I appreciate your concern, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. I couldn't avoid it forever. Besides, I won't be alone. I'll be escorting Lady Dunbridge and her niece." He smiled at his butler. "I left a stack of outgoing correspondence, including my acceptance of Lady Garrison's invitation, on the tray on my desk in the study. Please see that they're delivered right away and send a note around to Lord Rob and ask that he meet me at Lady Garrison's tonight." Naked from the waist up, Jarrod stepped away from the shaving stand and pulled a clean dress shirt over his head.
"Very good, sir." Henderson collected a length of linen from the bureau drawer and draped it around Jarrod's collar. He fashioned the neckcloth into a small bow tie and handed Jarrod an embroidered black waistcoat.
"Have we received a reply from Lambeth Palace?" Jarrod asked, slipping his arms into the waistcoat and buttoning the onyx buttons.
Henderson nodded. "His Grace sent a messenger to tell us that he's granting your request for an audience at nine tomorrow morning. And His Grace said to tell you that he expects to see you at morning services."
Jarrod groaned.
"It's a small price to pay for his granting an audience on such short notice," Henderson reminded him.
Jarrod sat down on a wing chair to put on his shoes, then stood up and allowed Henderson to assist him with his coat before grabbing his hat and gloves off the dressing table. "Yes, it is," Jarrod agreed. "But it's a price I'd rather avoid."
"One must always pay the piper, sir," Henderson said. "Everything comes at a price."
Jarrod nodded. "Any other words of wisdom?"
"Lady Garrison's party begins promptly at nine. In order to get to Richmond, you'll need to pick up the ladies you're escorting no later than a quarter 'til eight to avoid arriving late," Henderson said. "Your coach and coachmen are waiting outside."
"Thank you, Fairy Godmother," Jarrod teased.
Henderson didn't bat an eye or miss a beat. "You're welcome, Cinderella. Now, remember to return home before the last stroke of midnight or you risk turning into a turnip."
"I believe you mean a pumpkin." Jarrod laughed. "And I'll have to risk it because the party won't be over until well beyond midnight."
"Pumpkins. Turnips." Henderson shrugged. "What's the difference? They're both vegetables and the result is the same. A fat-headed marquess."
"Is that your way of telling me not to overimbibe?" Jarrod asked.
Henderson shook his head. "Not at all, sir," he replied. "I am a man who enjoys spirits and I would never presume to tell you to limit your consumption of them."
"I haven't got all night," Jarrod said. "Get to the point, Henderson."
"I thought I had, sir."
Jarrod raised his eyebrow in query. "Enlighten me."
"Since you insist on going to the Garrisons', I'm simply reminding you to come home and get some sleep so you'll have all your wits about you when you face the archbishop tomorrow morning."
Jarrod gave Henderson a slight bow as he exited his room. "Message understood, sir."
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Contents - Prev | Next
We are the boys
That fear no noise
Where the thundering cannons roar.