But that had all changed when Colin married an heiress. With two of the original Free Fellows married, more help was needed. Jarrod and Colin had already recruited Sussex while Griffin was serving with his cavalry regiment on the Peninsula. Later, while Colin was on his honeymoon, the others had approached Barclay and Courtland.
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 Courtland, second Marquess of Courtland — but Jarrod, Griffin, and Colin were satisfied that their secret was safe and that the associates close to the three newcomers 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. He had been scheduled to return in time to attend his mother's annual gala ball and Griffin and Barclay had seen him there, but neither Sussex nor Jarrod had yet arrived at White's.
Jarrod had sent word that he would be late. But they had heard nothing from Sussex. And that 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 invited," Colin replied.
"What do you mean you weren't invited?" Courtland and Barclay demanded in unison.
"I'm only a viscount."
"There were a dozen viscounts and viscountesses there," Barclay protested.
"And you have one of the oldest and most revered titles in Scotland," Griffin added. "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 the title."
"That may have been true once," Griff reminded him, "but your hard work and your marriage to Gillian put money behind the title. Tons of money." 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 tons of money doesn'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 only invited Alyssa and me because I'm the hero of Fuentes de Onoro 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 invited you himself."
"I know that." Colin laughed. "And I don't need consoling, Griff. Believe me, I'd rather spend a quiet evening at home with Gillian than fight my way through the crush of the ton at Sussex House. And you can be sure Gillian feels likewise." Once upon a time, Colin would have felt slighted by the duchess's snub, but now, he truly didn't feel the 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."
Griff raised his hands in a sign of surrender. "Daniel and I are the ones who need consoling. Count yourself fortunate that your mother-in-law isn't a part of the Duchess of Sussex's set like mine is." He smiled. "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 was 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. "Because my aunt 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. Until he'd unexpectedly inherited his paternal uncle's title, Jonathan had always been the poor cousin whose aunt limited his contact with her son. 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 had 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.
"I know. I've been there," Colin said. "More times than I can 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 had to ride 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 coffee.
"What did you do, Shepherdston? Put in an appearance at the Duchess of Sussex's ball last night then go home and work on dispatches?" Barclay inquired.
Jarrod shook his head. "You know better than that. 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 ti
me," Colin told him. "But not at Sussex House."
Jarrod frowned. "You didn't go?"
The Duchess of Sussex's annual gala was the invitation of the season. No one declined except confirmed bachelors like Jarrod who need not count on winning the duchess's approval to retain their secure social standing in the ton. If anything, Jarrod's consistent refusal to grace the Duchess of Sussex's party with his presence increased his desirability among the ton's other hostesses.
"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 replied, 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 corrected. "And she would like to be the one to snag you."
"She's still a lovely, well-preserved lady." 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 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. "I prefer marriage to the Duchess of Sussex's invitations."
"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."
"Did you get them all done?" Colin asked.
"Unfortunately, I was interrupted." Jarrod didn't offer any explanations for the interruption and the others didn't ask for one.
"I thought the dispatches were needed at the War Office this morning," Griff ventured.
"They are." Jarrod turned to Colin. "Do you think Gillian would mind…?"
Colin had accidentally discovered, shortly after his marriage, that his bride was extremely proficient at solving word puzzles and deciphering French code and Jarrod wasn't above asking Gillian for help when he needed it. Jarrod didn't doubt for a moment that Gillian could be trusted with the information.
"She would be pleased to help," Colin said with a smile.
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 had a gift for numbers and an uncanny ability to break code. And she would die before she would betray him or any member of the League. In a few short months, Gillian had become the Free Fellows League's secret weapon and she was delighted to have the opportunity to contribute to the fight against Bonaparte.
Jarrod reached inside his jacket and removed the key to his desk drawer. "They're locked in the top drawer of my desk." He handed the key to Colin. "I'd be obliged if you'd get them and take them to your viscountess. I'll stop by your house and pick them up on my way to my meeting with Scovell later this morning. Tell Henderson I sent you."
Colin pocketed the key with a nod.
"Now," Jarrod continued, "where's Sussex? I want to know why he didn't invite Colin and his viscountess to his mother's party and I want to hear his report on his mission."
"Our sentiments exactly," Griff told him.
Jarrod frowned.
"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."
"So he made it back safely." Jarrod heaved a sigh of relief. He hated sending the sitting Duke of Sussex on secret missions because there would be hell to pay and a million questions to answer if anything happened to him.
Griff nodded. "You can rest easily on that account. His Grace made it back to town safe and sound."
"Then where is he?" Jarrod asked, pinning each of them with a look.
"Unless he escorted a lady home from the party and decided to stay overnight or simply overslept, we've no idea," Barclay answered.
"We need to get an idea," Jarrod told them. "I've a very full schedule this morning, with personal matters that demand my immediate attention and meetings at the War Office in a few hours with men who require the most accurate and current information we can give them on the French movements along the coast." He finished his coffee and set the empty cup on its saucer on the silver tray. "As there's no point in meeting without him, let's see if we can find our errant King Arthur before eleven of the clock this morning."
"Where shall we begin?" Courtland asked. "Anywhere but Madam Theodora's," Jarrod replied.
Puzzled, Barclay asked, "Why not?" Everyone knew Madam Theodora's was the Free Fellows' preferred house of pleasure.
"Because that's where I'm going to look," Jarrod answered. "I'll see you all here at the usual time this evening."
"Well," Colin drawled as Jarrod left the room, "our Merlin must have a personal matter that demands immediate attention."
* * *
Chapter Nine
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Skill'd to retire, and in retiring draw
Hearts after them tangled in amorous nets.
— John Milton, 1608-1674
"Whats the meaning of this?" Jarrod tossed the worn calling card on the top of Madam Theodora's elegant gilt writing desk.
"Lord Shepherdston!" Madam Theodora looked up from her ledger book and smiled a warm, welcoming smile. "What a wonderful surprise! But I must warn you that if you've come looking for Lord Mayhew, you will find him in the Green Salon auditioning a roomful of girls." She leaned forward. "It seems he's developed a taste for red-haired innocents half his age."
"Actually," Jarrod drawled, "I came looking for Miss Jones's Home for Displaced Women." He tapped the edge of the calling card against the gilt surface of her desk. "According to this, it's located at number forty-seven Portman Square. I believe that's the number on this door."
Theodora blanched, then reached for the card with a trembling hand. "Where did you get this?"
"Someone left it on the floor of my study," Jarrod replied.
"That's impossible!" Theodora exclaimed. "Those cards are only sent to — " She broke off when she recognized the implacable look on Jarrod's face.
"Displaced women?" Jarrod suggested in his deceptively silky drawl.
"Yes!" Theodora seized the opportu
nity to confirm his suggestion. "They are sent to women in need. Women who have no place to go."
"And you welcome these women into your home with open arms out of the goodness of your heart."
"I feed and clothe and shelter them," Theodora told him. "Even educate them if necessary. I provide them with a home and family and companionship."
"And I take it the companionship is almost exclusively male."
Theodora's pale blue eyes flashed fire. "How dare you pass judgment on me, Lord Shepherdston? When you have been one of my best and most frequent visitors?"
"Customers," Jarrod corrected. "Let's be frank and put the proper name on it. I have been one of your best and most frequent customers and I have paid very well for the companionship you provided to me."
"And I have supplied you with the most excellent companionship your coin can buy," she retorted.
"To my very great pleasure," Jarrod allowed. "But to my very great shame, I never questioned how my companions came to be my companions."
Theodora shrugged. "Then you're typical of your class, my lord."
Jarrod raised his eyebrows in query.
"You're a gentleman," Theodora told him. "And very few gentlemen accustomed to pleasure ever question how the pleasure is supplied."
Jarrod shook his head. "And now I know that you supply it by luring displaced women into a life of prostitution."
"Economics," she retorted. "Supply and demand. You pay me and I supply women to meet the demand of wealthy gentlemen like you." She stared up at him. "How did you think they came to be here?"
"I suppose I was naive enough to assume the women were here because they wanted to be here. I didn't expect that you would recruit daughters of recently deceased country clergymen."
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