“Better?” The note of concern in Jonathan’s voice was unmistakable. Although he’d attended the Knightsguild School for Gentlemen with Griffin, Jarrod and Colin and had slept in the cot beside Jarrod Shepherdston, Jonathan Manners hadn’t been an original member of the Free Fellows League. Only seven years of age when the older boys formed the League, Jonathan had been deemed too young to be trusted with the secret, but had been able to fulfill his dream of becoming a Free Fellow as a grown man. The other members had invited him to join them upon Colin’s marriage to Gillian.
A year later, Colin had facilitated Jonathan’s introduction to India, the lady who had become his wife.
Colin nodded. “Thanks.”
Jonathan shrugged. “We’re friends. Friends support each other.”
“Bloody hell!” Colin swore. “How did this happen?”
It was a rhetorical question, but Jarrod chose to answer it. “From what I’ve been told, your father owed money to Rothermere.”
“Told?” Colin demanded. “Who told you? How could you know this when I just learned of it myself?”
“I received a letter and a report from Sussex and from Avon,” Jarrod replied. “In a diplomatic pouch. Apparently, Lord McElreath owed more money to Rothermere than he could repay—especially with you so far away. Sussex tried to buy your father’s gaming chits, but Rothermere wouldn’t sell. He called in the debt and demanded your father pay with one of his daughters.”
“One of his daughters? Caroline is fourteen.”
“Rothermere’s tastes run young.”
“I had hoped I could trust my father to be circumspect—but this? I suppose I should be thankful he chose Liana instead of Caroline.” Colin didn’t doubt the truth of what Jarrod told him. Like Weymouth, who had spent a lifetime in government, Jarrod was a master at ferreting out information. And his sources were impeccable. “What a mess this is! Alexander Courtland sacrificed himself to save my sister.”
“It was a mess,” Jarrod told him. “Courtland’s quick thinking and that of Sussex and his duchess, your mother and the Dowager Ladies Courtland and St. Germaine turned what would have been a catastrophe of your father’s making into a triumph. And you should be thankful it was Liana instead of Caroline because I’m not certain Courtland could have saved her the way he was able to save Liana.
In any event, the Chronicle is a scandal rag, but the Times published a very nice announcement and description of the wedding of Miss McElreath to Alexander, Marquess of Courtland.” Jarrod nodded toward the clipping Colin had placed on the table without reading it. “It makes no mention of the aborted ceremony at St. Bartholomew’s Chapel or of the announcement of Liana’s betrothal and impending marriage to Rothermere that appeared two days earlier. In fact, the Times apologized for mistakenly publishing the earlier announcement.”
“You can bet that cost Courtland a pretty penny,” Barclay said.
Colin read the wedding announcement that appeared in the Times and handed the paper back to Shepherdston. “The wedding and the arrangements cost him a bloody fortune! And his agreement to pay my father’s gaming debts.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I canna imagine why he’d do it…”
“You know exactly why he did it,” Jarrod corrected, refusing to allow Colin to pretend ignorance when he knew what Courtland’s sacrifice meant to all of them. “He’s one of us. He did it because he could. Because she’s your sister.”
Barclay agreed. “He was the only one who could do it. We—” He gestured toward Grantham, Shepherdston, and Weymouth. “We were too far from London to do anything to prevent the wedding. Griffin is at his country house with his wife and mother. Sussex was the only one who could do anything except Courtland and Sussex is already married. As the last bachelor, Courtland was the only one of us who could save your sister from Rothermere’s machinations.”
“Do you know how much of what we read is true? Do you know if young Courtland approached Lord McElreath and sought permission to marry your sister?” Weymouth asked.
“None of it is true,” Colin replied after swallowing another bracing mouthful of coffee. “Courtland didn’t ask my father for Liana’s hand. She was about to begin her third season. Nobody asked for her hand her first two seasons because nobody was willing to take her as a wife for fear they might be held responsible for her father’s massive gambling debts. Because my father’s chit holders know I’m not going to pay a penny on his gaming debts.”
“I understand why would-be suitors didn’t offer for her,” Weymouth said. “Most of them could not afford to. The truth is that there are only a handful of peers with enough income and wealth to assume Lord McElreath’s debts. Most young lords are looking for an heiress to enrich the family coffers. It’s simple economics. But it’s a shame young ladies like your sister are penalized for their fathers’ or their families’ shortcomings.”
“The sins of the fathers…” Colin quoted.
“There’s more than a grain of truth to that.” Barclay lifted his coffee and drank. “The Marquess of Courtland is one of the few peers wealthy enough in his own right to absorb McElreath’s debts.”
“Then it’s possible Courtland was interested in making Miss McElreath his marchioness,” Jarrod offered.
Colin disagreed. “Only if Courtland was interested in relinquishing his bachelor status and he wasn’t. He knows he’s invaluable to our work. He’s the only one of us who can travel at will without question, the only one of us without a wife.”
“Then he did you a favor,” Jonathan said. “The way you did me a favor not so long ago.”
Colin smiled. He’d repaid the favor Jonathan and Alex had done for him by arranging for Jonathan to take a mission he’d been slated to take. The mission had involved the young woman with whom Jonathan had fallen in love and married. “If you recall, I only returned a favor you did for me.”
“We’ve all done favors for one another. What Courtland did this time is no different from what we’ve all done at other times. He married her to save her reputation. It’s done and cannot be undone.” Jarrod stood up and restlessly began to pace the length of the room. “You have to get over your anger at him and accept it—” He gave Colin a pointed look. “Courtland is your brother-in-law now and you have to find a way to work together.”
“How am I going to do that after he breaks Liana’s heart?” Colin demanded. “Courtland did me a favor. I don’t know that I can say the same for Liana.”
“What do you mean?” Barclay asked. “He married her.”
“Yes, he married her.” Colin swept his anguished gaze over the men in the room—men who all loved their wives. “I read his letter to you. Did it mention how he felt about Liana?”
“No.” Jarrod shook his head. “He reported the facts, not the details.”
Colin sighed. “He doesn’t know all the details.”
“Such as?” Weymouth prompted.
“Liana’s been wearing her heart on her sleeve for him for the past few years. Ever since she danced with him at Lady Harralson’s ball.” Colin looked at Jarrod. “She isn’t going to know her marriage isn’t real. She’s in love with him.”
Jonathan winced. If Courtland didn’t love the girl, he would end up breaking her heart.
“I’m not going to kill Courtland because he saved her. I’m grateful to him for saving her from a monster like Rothermere,” Colin told them. “I’m going to kill him when he breaks her heart.”
“Killing being an exaggeration,” Jarrod suggested, pouring himself another cup of coffee from the pot on the table. “Because I know you, Colin McElreath, and I know you would never kill a blood brother. For any reason. Not even your sister’s broken heart.”
“We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Jonathan reminded them. “We’re assuming the new Marchioness of Courtland will have a broken heart.”
“Barclay’s right,” Weymouth said. “We can’t know for sure that this isn’t a love match—on both sides.” He took a deep breath. “
All of you are fine examples of unexpected love matches. It’s possible the sacrifice we’re crediting Courtland isn’t as much of a sacrifice as we think it is. And until we know otherwise, we should proceed on the theory that it is more than a marriage in name only.” He looked at each of the men in turn. The Free Fellows League was changing. They had formed the league as children, nurtured it in their youth, and shaped it into an indispensable piece of the War Department’s efforts to defeat the enemy as they reached their majority while they were bachelors, but now, the five of them—Jarrod, Griffin, Colin, Daniel, Jonathan, and Alexander—were married gentlemen ready to settle down and do their duty to king and country by upholding their noble titles and lineages, by starting their families.
It was time. After twenty years of war with the French, even Weymouth, who thrived on political intrigue, was ready to retire to the country with his wife and the child they were about to bring into the world. He couldn’t fault the young men he’d challenged, trained, bullied, mentored, and loved for wanting the same. They had all been required to do things no English lord should ever have to do. They had been called upon to take lives, but Weymouth knew they had saved far more lives than they had been forced to take. And while it was true they all carried scars of one sort or another, some physical like his son, Griffin’s, and some emotional, they had all done their duty and Weymouth was extraordinarily proud of all of them.
The war was finally at an end. All there was left to do was negotiate a lasting peace on which the eight allies could agree. “I hope that’s the case,” Colin said. “We’ve come so far together and accomplished so much. I would dearly love for my sister to have what Gillian and I share and I would sorely hate to break up the League by eliminating her husband.”
For a moment, Weymouth thought Colin had read his thoughts. Weymouth had always admired the young Scottish lord’s stubborn grit and determination to make something of himself despite the obstacles his sire constantly placed in his path.
“We understand your position, Colin,” Jarrod concluded. “But there are other issues at stake. Issues we must discuss before Lord Weymouth departs for home.” He narrowed his gaze at Colin in warning. “In order for you to have the opportunity to eliminate Courtland should he break your sister’s heart, we need to insure that no one else beats you to it. Alex will have to watch his back and it would behoove us to have someone else watching it as well.”
Weymouth nodded. “I’ll secure more scarlet waistcoats as soon as I reach London. Without the waistcoats, of course.”
“Of course,” Jonathan agreed. “Without Alex’s or his brid—” Barclay broke off as Colin loudly cleared his throat. “Colin’s sister,” he amended, “being aware of it. Courtland would object to putting someone else’s life at risk for his sake.”
“Agreed,” Weymouth and Shepherdston said in unison.
“Now,” Jarrod rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Lord Weymouth, if you would be so kind as to bring us up to snuff on the state of the Gilpin rifles…”
“The Gilpin A-1 Rifles are in finally in production.”
“Now that the war is coming to an end,” Jonathan commented.
“In Europe,” Weymouth reminded him. “The war is still being fought in America, the Caribbean, in India and on the seas. The rifles will be a welcome addition to our arsenals in those arenas. Unfortunately, we must discover how the French managed to get their hands on the first batch to come out of the Gilpin Small Arms factory when we purchased them.”
“The French have the new rifles?” Colin sat up in his seat and gave the earl his full attention.
“They do. And I’ll be briefing Lord Castlereagh about this new development in a quarter hour. It may be something he can use to sway Talleyrand.”
“How did we learn of this?” Jonathan asked.
“Sussex and Courtland,” Weymouth responded, before nodding at Jarrod, who was slated to become his successor when the earl retired to the country, if the Marquess of Shepherdston wanted the job.
“The letter I received from Daniel Sussex in the diplomatic pouch this morning. It seems your new brother-in-law”—Jarrod shot Colin a piercing look—“was nearly assassinated by a man with a Gilpin rifle on his most recent crossing at Calais. He managed to take one away from another, now deceased, assassin in Paris.”
Colin was stunned. They were supposed to be secret. “The rifles are in Paris?”
“One was,” Jarrod replied. “We have to assume it wasn’t the only one. Alex took the rifle from the assassin and brought it back with him and presented it to Daniel to thank him for standing up with him at the wedding. Daniel said Alex reported the French patrol boats in Calais were firing Gilpin rifles and were patrolling both sides of the Channel. He reported there’s more activity now than there has been in months. He doesn’t think the French are ready to lay down their arms. He believes they’re preparing for battle. The Gilpin rifles are proof.”
“They’ve obviously been smuggled,” Jonathan said. “But who is behind the smuggling? All the Cinque Ports are patrolled regularly and Calais has been blockaded. Where are they going through?”
“Gilpin Small Arms Company is in Sheffield. That’s West Riding.” Jarrod was thinking aloud. “Not the coast. They must be going overland. But where?”
Jonathan frowned. “Gilpin? I know the name from the arms company, but it sounds familiar for another reason.” Barclay had inherited his title from a paternal uncle. Third in line behind his uncle’s only son and his own father, Jonathan had never expected to inherit the title. But Barclay’s mother had never given up hope that one day her son would inherit and had insisted he memorize Debrett’s. One of Jonathan’s talents was that he never forgot a family connection. “Some connection to Rothermere…”
Weymouth snapped his fingers. “Barclay, you’re right. I’d forgotten. Gilpin’s daughter, Peg—”
“Polly,” Jonathan corrected, suddenly remembering where he’d seen the information.
“Polly,” Weymouth amended. “Polly Gilpin, only daughter of Hayward Gilpin, owner of the Gilpin Small Arms Company, was Rothermere’s third wife. At the time, everyone was surprised he’d married a girl with no title. The daughter of a man in trade, so to speak. Raised a few eyebrows among the ton.”
“Rumor was that after the death of his previous two wives, no titled gentlemen would accept Rather Mean’s marriage offer. He had to look elsewhere.” Jarrod shuddered, thankful Rothermere hadn’t approached Sarah’s father or later, her guardian, Reginald Blanchard.
“Poor girl died a little over a year after marrying him.” Weymouth drew his brows together in thought. “After a fall from her horse.”
“And the gossip was that no fall from a horse could account for all her injuries,” Jarrod added. “I heard the rumors, but I did not make further inquiries into the lady’s death because we weren’t negotiating the purchase of the Gilpin A-1 Rifle at the time.”
Jonathan nodded. “That’s what Rothermere counts on. It’s his modus operandi. He married Lady Felicity Wolverton first for her family connections and the dowry needed to restore his family’s fortune. His second wife was Lady Janet, daughter of the second Viscount Southwick…”
“Southwick is the assistant secretary-at-war,” Weymouth said.
“I sense a pattern here,” came Jarrod’s wry reply.
“The marriage added additional gold to the Rothermere coffers, and holdings in Yorkshire where Viscount Southwick has his country seat,” Jonathan continued. “Both of those wives died under mysterious circumstances within two years of marriage as well.”
“You failed to mention Miss Gilpin’s dowry,” Weymouth commented.
“What was it? A king’s ransom in gold and interest in the Gilpin Small Arms Company?” Jarrod offered the comment in jest, but no one was surprised when Jonathan confirmed it.
“Not quite a king’s ransom and half interest in the company upon marriage. Complete ownership at Gilpin’s death.”
“H
ow do you know that?” Jarrod demanded as the three other men in the room looked askance at Barclay.
“I was forced to memorize Debrett’s at an early age.”
“You don’t find that information in the book of peerage,” Weymouth pointed out, rising from his seat in preparation for his departure. “That sort of information comes from digging.”
Jonathan grinned. “I had reason to consult with solicitors on the contents of marriage contracts a few years back. That’s how I remembered the connection to Rothermere. My solicitor was appalled by that particular marriage contract because everything was weighted in the husband’s favor. He referred to it as a prime example of how much a family could lose and how much a husband could gain from a wife’s dowry.”
“Is Gilpin still alive?” Colin asked the obvious question.
“He is. But barely,” Weymouth volunteered. “Mr. Gilpin was badly injured in a carriage accident last autumn. He survived, but his injury was the reason for the first delay in the shipment of the rifles and several subsequent delays.”
“Who was in charge of the company during his absence?” Jarrod asked.
“Excellent question, Lord Shepherdston,” Weymouth complimented him. “For which I shall soon have an answer.”
“Why would Rothermere arrange to marry my sister?” Colin asked. “We’re not a wealthy or a particularly well-connected family.”
“Present company excluded,” Jonathan deadpanned. “You are deeply, if secretly, connected to two dukes, two Marquesses, three if you count Miranda, two belted earls, an archbishop, and an extremely wealthy baron who happens to own a shipping line.”
Colin couldn’t help smiling when Barclay named his connections. “Present company excluded.”
“Grantham raises a good question.” Jarrod picked up Colin’s thread of logic. “What did Felix Rather Mean stand to gain by marrying Earl McElreath’s daughter? McElreath has no money or connections.” He gave Colin an apologetic look. “And we all know he drinks and gambles too much. He’s mortgaged to the hilt and forever in debt. He has nothing to recommend him. Why would Rothermere want Liana to wife for other than his usual reasons of preferring virginal young flesh? What does she have?”
A Bachelor Still Page 23
