“Shepherdston sends his apologies,” Griffin elaborated. “He’s been detained and will be late.”
The Free Fellows were meeting in their customary meeting room at White’s on Thursday morning following the Duchess of Sussex’s annual gala. The room was set with enough coffee, spirits, and cigars for six men: the three original Free Fellows—Griffin, Colin, and Jarrod—and the three newest ones—Daniel, Duke of Sussex, Jonathan Manners, the Earl of Barclay, and Alexander, the Marquess of Courtland.
Barclay had settled onto a chair near the fire. Courtland sat at one end of the massive leather sofa, and Griffin sat on the other end. Colin was sprawled on his favorite large chair beside the drinks table, but Shepherdston’s habitual place was empty.
Griff cupped his hand around his ear, exaggerating the motion as the casement clock chimed the half hour. “There is always a first time. And today is Jarrod’s. He’s late.”
“He’s not the only one.” Colin glanced around. The Duke of Sussex’s favorite chair opposite Barclay’s was also empty. “Where’s His Grace? Hasn’t he returned from the coast yet?”
“I saw him last night at his mother’s gala, so he must have returned late yesterday,” Griff offered. “I didn’t get the opportunity to speak with him in the crush of people there, but I saw him.”
“So did I,” Barclay added.
“Then where is he?” Colin asked.
Courtland shrugged his shoulders, then leaned forward to pour himself a cup of coffee from the silver coffee service on the low table. “I was at the duchess’s ball last night, but I arrived later in the evening. I didn’t see Daniel.”
“Sussex knows we’re meeting this morning,” Colin said. “And he knows he’s supposed to brief us on the progress of his mission. It isn’t like him not to be here.”
“Shepherdston is late and Sussex is missing,” Barclay added. “It’s a most unusual morning already.”
Although they’d originally begun as a secret group of schoolboys, the members had put their secret league to work against Bonaparte, working very closely with the Foreign Office and the War Office.
The secret work that Colin and Jarrod and Sussex did came under the auspices of a staff of graduates of the Royal Military College and Lieutenant Colonel Colquhoun Grant. While Grant gathered battlefield information on the Peninsula, Jarrod, Colin, and Sussex gathered information on a much larger field of battle, and all of it was analyzed, enciphered, deciphered, and included in the constant flow of military dispatches overseen by Griffin’s father, the Earl of Weymouth.
When Griffin became a national hero, the Prince Regent and Prime Minister had asked that he retire from active duty in his cavalry regiment, and he’d agreed. But retirement from the regiment hadn’t kept him from engaging the enemy.
Griffin and Jarrod and Sussex occupied higher positions in society and were subject to more social obligations and more scrutiny than the other Free Fellows. They were limited, in many ways, to planning, arranging, and financing the clandestine war against Bonaparte, but they were still very much a part of it.
While Griffin had been publicly honored for his service to his country, the Free Fellows League and each member’s connection to it remained secret to all but a handful of close associates. Griff, Jarrod, and Sussex engaged in the occasional secret smuggling holiday, but Colin, as a relatively unimportant and poor viscount, had been the primary foot soldier in the field, and therefore the Free Fellow most at risk.
But that had all changed when Colin had married an heiress. With two of the original Free Fellows married, more help was needed. Jarrod and Colin had recruited Sussex while Griffin was serving with his cavalry regiment on the Peninsula. And in turn, Griffin and Jarrod and Sussex had approached Barclay and Courtland while Colin was on his honeymoon.
The number of close associates had expanded slightly with the addition of Sussex and the two newest candidates for admission into the Free Fellows League, Jonathan Manners, the eleventh Earl of Barclay, and Alexander, second Marquess of Courtland, but Jarrod, Griffin, and Colin were satisfied that their secret was safe and that the associates close to Sussex, Barclay, and Courtland were entirely trustworthy.
As the newest members of the League, Barclay and Courtland had gradually assumed Colin’s role as primary foot soldiers in their clandestine war with their French counterparts. And Sussex and Jarrod had undertaken more smuggling missions so the married members of the League could stay close to London to fulfill social and business obligations and to spend more time with their wives.
Sussex had spent the past two days on a smuggling mission to France, but had been scheduled to return in time to attend his mother’s annual gala ball.
Jarrod had sent word that he would be late, but they had heard nothing from Sussex, which was unprecedented and very troubling.
“You’re certain you saw Daniel at the duchess’s party last night?” Colin asked Griffin.
“I’m quite certain,” Griff answered.
“But you said there was a huge crush.” Colin began to pace back and forth in Jarrod’s customary pattern.
“There was.” Griff looked at Colin and frowned. “Which is why I didn’t catch a glimpse of you and Gillian all evening.”
“You didn’t catch a glimpse of us all evening because Gillian and I weren’t there,” Colin replied.
“You didn’t go?” Griff was astonished.
“We weren’t invited,” Colin answered.
“What do you mean you weren’t invited?” Courtland and Barclay demanded in unison.
“I’m only a viscount.”
“So?” Barclay demanded. “There were a dozen viscounts and viscountesses at the party.”
“Tons of them,” Griffin added. “A great many with lesser titles than yours. You have one of the oldest and most revered titles in Scotland. Granthams and McElreaths have held titles from the time of Macbeth.”
“Aye,” Colin agreed in a thick burr. “But they were Scottish titles, and, present company excluded, when have the English ever been impressed by Scottish titles?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, everyone knows there’s no money behind my title.”
“That may have been true once,” Griff reminded him, “but it’s no longer the case. Your hard work and your marriage to Gillian put a great deal of money behind the title. You’re worth a bloody fortune, Colin.” Griff ran his fingers through his hair. Colin had married Gillian Davies, the daughter of Baron Carter Davies, a silk and linen merchant who owned a fleet of ships and dozens of lucrative trade routes all over the world. Gillian’s father had become one of the richest men in England and been rewarded with the title of baron for services to the crown, but he and his wife and daughter had yet to be fully accepted by some members of the ton. “Of course piles of money don’t mean a thing to the dowager Duchess of Sussex, who is, and has always been, a terrible snob. But don’t let it bother you. You’re in excellent company, you know. She and my mother don’t particularly get on.” He smiled. “Apparently the duchess had set her cap for the duke and my father. She married the duke, but she never forgave my father for not offering for her. And you know my mother—” He glanced over at Colin and grinned. “She has no use for anyone who dislikes my father.”
Colin knew Griff’s parents quite well, and anyone who knew them knew that Lord and Lady Weymouth’s marriage had been a true love match. Colin also knew that if there was anyone Lady Weymouth loved more than her husband, it was Griffin, her only child.
“And,” Griff continued, “Her Grace hasn’t quite gotten over the fact that Alyssa chose me instead of Daniel. The duchess only invited Alyssa and me because I’m the hero of Fuentes de Oñoro, and because His Highness elevated me to the rank of duke.” He stared at his friend, trying to read between the lines. “And you know that if Daniel had realized his mother had omitted your name from the guest list, he would have rectified the error.”
“Of course he would have,” Colin agreed. “But it didn’t matter. I’d much rather
spend a quiet evening at home with Gillian than fight my way through the crush of people at Sussex House. And although she missed getting all decked out in her finery, Gillian didn’t mind staying home either.” Once upon a time, Colin would have felt slighted by the duchess’s snub, but things had changed after he married Gillian. Now he no longer needed the ton’s approval, and Colin truly didn’t feel the duchess’s slight. His only regret was that he knew Daniel would be embarrassed to learn that his mother had slighted one of his friends. But he and Gillian were about to celebrate their first wedding anniversary, and they enjoyed each other’s company far too much to worry about missing the social event of the year. “If there’s anything she despises, it’s the snobbery of the duchess’s set.”
“Daniel and I are the ones who need consoling.” Griff raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “Count yourself fortunate that your mother-in-law isn’t a part of the Duchess of Sussex’s set, like mine is.” He shrugged. “Alyssa and I would rather have stayed home like you and Gillian, and you know Daniel would rather avoid all the fuss, but … It’s worse for him. The duchess is his mother. There is no escape for him.”
Colin nodded. “I can’t imagine returning from a mission and having to face that.”
“It’s the same for me,” Jonathan said gloomily. “The Duchess of Sussex is my aunt, and Aunt Lavinia would never forgive me for missing her party, either. And if my aunt is unhappy, my mother is unhappy. Unfortunately, those two sisters are as alike as peas in a pod, and they’re both capable of making my life miserable.”
The Free Fellows had all become as close as brothers, but only Sussex and Manners were related. Their mothers were sisters. Daniel’s mother had married a duke. Jonathan’s mother had married the younger son of an earl. Daniel and Jonathan jokingly called themselves distant cousins because until he’d unexpectedly inherited his paternal uncle’s title, Daniel’s mother had done her best to keep distance between the two boys by limiting her son’s contact with his much poorer cousin. The duchess had made certain that Jonathan and Daniel had gone to different schools. Jonathan had been sent to Knightsguild with Griffin, Colin, and Jarrod, and Daniel had followed in his father’s footsteps and gone to Eton.
Fortunately for Jonathan, Daniel had sought his companionship whenever possible and had generously rewarded Jonathan for information about the Free Fellows League. Jonathan had slept in the cot next to Jarrod’s and had often overheard bits of information about the mysterious League and the three boys who had formed it and patterned it after King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. He eagerly shared his information with Daniel, and Daniel had supplied him with coins and trinkets in return. The cousins had thrilled to the exploits of the Free Fellows League, and both boys had aspired to join it.
It had taken years, but Sussex and Barclay had finally been granted membership and earned their secret code names. Shepherdston was Merlin. Avon was Lancelot. Grantham was Galahad. Sussex was Arthur. Barclay had become Bedivere, and Courtland had become Tristram.
“I shudder to think about it,” Alex added.
“So do I,” Colin said. “I’ve made more crossings than I care to count, and I know that even if everything went smoothly, a trip to the coast of France and back in two days is a hardship.”
“Daniel would have had to have ridden like the hounds of hell were on his heels in order to make it to his mother’s party on time. And it’s not as if he could beg off. He’s the duke. It’s his house, and what’s more, he actually lives there.” Griff’s smile grew into a broad grin. “Think about it. He probably had to fight his way through the crowd of coaches to get down the drive to the house. No doubt he overslept.”
“I did no such thing.”
Four Free Fellows turned at the sound of the protest to find Jarrod standing in the doorway.
“Shepherdston!” they greeted him.
“My tardiness had nothing to do with oversleeping,” Jarrod continued in a sharp tone. “I am only a quarter of an hour late, despite the fact that I’ve been up all night.”
“We were talking about Sussex oversleeping,” Colin said. He walked over to the silver coffeepot, poured a steaming cup of the brew, and carried it over to Jarrod. “Not your going without.” He thrust the cup in Jarrod’s hand. “Drink this. You look like hell.”
It was true. Jarrod’s brown eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles beneath them. “Thanks,” he said, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee Colin handed him.
“What did you do, Shepherdston? Put in an appearance at Aunt Lavinia’s ball last night, then go home and work on dispatches?” Barclay inquired.
Jarrod shook his head. “Unlike the rest of you, I declined my invitation.” He met Colin’s gaze and smiled. “How was Her Grace’s party? Did you and your lovely viscountess have a good time?”
“We had a very nice time,” Colin told him. “But not at Sussex House.”
Jarrod frowned. “You didn’t go?”
“Colin and Gillian stayed home,” Griff answered to spare Colin another explanation.
“Why?” Jarrod demanded. “Was Gillian ill?”
“No,” Colin assured him. “She’s fine.”
“Then why the devil didn’t you take her to the duchess’s party? Gillian would have loved it. It’s the biggest ball of the season, and the most exclusive.”
“Too exclusive,” Colin answered.
Jarrod frowned.
“Colin and Gillian didn’t receive their invitations in time to attend,” Griff explained diplomatically.
“Why the devil not?” Jarrod glanced toward Sussex’s customary seat.
Jonathan intercepted his glance. “You know the duchess.”
“Yes,” Jarrod sighed. “I know the duchess. That’s why I declined. She only invites me to her celebrations because I’m unmarried and available to partner the eligible young ladies.”
“She invites you because you’re considered unattainable,” Alex Courtland corrected. “And she would like to be the one to snag you.”
“She’s a lovely lady and quite well-preserved for her age.” Jarrod pretended not to understand. “But she’s still a bit too old and too tyrannical for my taste. She outranks me, and she would never let me forget it.”
Courtland choked on his coffee at the idea of the dowager Duchess of Sussex sharing a bed with anyone—much less Shepherdston. As far as he was concerned, Daniel’s conception was the second miracle birth.
Jarrod glanced at Colin and couldn’t resist baiting him a bit. “Once upon a time, you and I were both considered unattainable. Apparently she’s decided to punish you for going and getting yourself leg-shackled last season without her help or approval, else you’d have received your invitation this season.”
Colin chuckled. “Give me my leg shackles any day.” He looked at Griff, the only other married Free Fellow, for confirmation. “I prefer marriage to Gillian over the Duchess of Sussex’s invitations any time.”
“And I prefer to remain unmarried.” Jarrod winked at Barclay and Courtland. “Unlike these two who, no doubt, accepted her invitation and ventured into dangerous territory last evening.” He took a drink of coffee, then looked at the others. “So I stayed home and spent most of the night deciphering.”
“Any new information?” Colin asked.
“I don’t know. Unfortunately, I was interrupted before I completed the deciphering.” Jarrod didn’t offer any explanations for the interruption, and the others didn’t ask for one.
Griff raised his hands in a sign of surrender. “I thought the War Office requested the dispatches be delivered this morning,” Griff ventured.
“They did.” Jarrod turned to Colin. “Do you think Gillian would mind … ?”
Shortly after his marriage, Colin had accidentally discovered that his bride was extremely proficient at solving anagrams, all sorts of word puzzles, and deciphering French code. Gillian’s talent had come as a most pleasant surprise. Colin was a proficient code breaker, but Gillian was excep
tional. Colin trusted her talent as much as he trusted her.
“She’d be disappointed if you didn’t ask,” Colin confided.
It was true. Colin’s wife didn’t know the history of the Free Fellows League or all of the work it did, but she knew he and his friends were part of it and that continuing their secret work was vital to the war effort. Gillian’s gift for numbers and her uncanny ability to break code had made her the Free Fellows League’s secret weapon, and she was delighted to have the opportunity to contribute to the fight against Bonaparte. And they all knew that she would die before she would betray her husband or any member of the League.
Jarrod reached inside his jacket, removed the key to his desk drawer, and handed it to Colin. “The dispatches are locked in the top drawer of my desk. I’d be obliged if you’d get them and take them to your viscountess. Tell Henderson I sent you.”
Colin nodded and pocketed the key.
“I’ll stop by your house on my way to my meeting with Scovell at Whitehall later this morning and pick them up,” Jarrod continued. “Now, where’s Sussex?” He glanced around. “I want to know why he didn’t invite Colin and Gillian to his mother’s party, and I want to hear his report on his mission.”
“Our sentiments exactly,” Griff told him.
Jarrod frowned.
“But, as you can see, Daniel isn’t here yet,” Courtland added. “We spent the past quarter hour waiting for both of you.”
“I apologize for being late,” Jarrod said. “But something unexpected came up, and it couldn’t be helped. And I did send word to His Grace,” he nodded toward Griff, “that I had been unavoidably detained. I take it that Sussex didn’t send word.”
Griff shook his head. He and Sussex were the highest-ranking Free Fellows, but Jarrod was the leader of the group, and the two dukes deferred to his leadership. “Not yet.”
“You haven’t seen him?”
“Not since last night,” Griff explained. “And I only saw him briefly from across the room last night. By the time I made it through the crush to where I’d seen him standing, he was gone.” He turned to Jonathan. “Barclay saw him, too.”
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