“We might be able to compromise,” Colin offered. He wasn’t a compromising man by nature, but in the years since they had founded the Free Fellows League, Colin had learned the value of finding the middle ground. “Why don’t we have dinner here and then continue our journey to Shepherdston Hall?”
Gillian smiled. “Can we?”
Colin shrugged. “I don’t see why not. There should be plenty of light left to travel by. So long as we have an early dinner and are willing to accept whatever Cook has to offer.”
“Whatever she has will be wonderful,” Gillian said, “because it will be our first meal as husband and wife. And to have it in our new home makes it doubly special.” She stared at her husband. “Thank you, Colin.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Not just for the compromise,” Gillian said. “Thank you for today. Thank you for marrying me and giving me a second chance.”
“Thank you,” he said sincerely, “for saying yes.”
Chapter Twenty
“There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
Henry V
“Pomfrey promised to send word as soon as they arrived,” Jarrod stood up and began to pace as he briefed the other members of the Free Fellows League in their customary meeting room at White’s. “I haven’t yet received word.”
Griff gave a little half smile. Pomfrey was the butler at Jarrod’s country estate. “I doubt they’ve had time to get to Shepherdston Hall.”
“They’ve had plenty of time,” Jarrod contradicted. “It’s been hours since the wedding.”
“By the by,” the Duke of Sussex drawled, “how was the wedding?”
“Quite nice,” Griffin said. “I marveled that they were able to accomplish it so quickly without Alyssa’s help. Of course, it was a very small wedding. The only witnesses besides Alyssa and me were Lord and Lady Davies, Lord and Lady McElreath and the children, and the rector. But the wedding breakfast was filled to capacity. I’ll wager that everyone who received an invitation—” He looked at Sussex and Jarrod. “With two notable exceptions—showed up with a friend or two.”
“The announcement appeared in all the papers this morning,” Sussex said. “Word got round.”
Jarrod concurred. “I ran into a half dozen chaps who wanted details during my morning trot around the Row. I told them I knew nothing more than what I’d read in the papers.”
Griff laughed. “So the curious turned out to see for themselves. I vow, I saw people at the breakfast I hadn’t seen in years.”
That was quite a statement coming from Griff who, since becoming England’s newest hero, swore he’d seen and shaken hands with everyone on the island of Great Britain at least once.
“I can’t believe Lord McElreath made it,” Jarrod said. “He made it,” Griff said. “And he looked quite presentable for a man that foxed.”
“Damn.” Jarrod scowled. “Did he say or do anything to embarrass Colin?”
Griff hesitated a moment before he shook his head. “Nothing untoward. At least, not publicly. But he and Colin exchanged words.”
“Christ!” Jarrod swore. “I was hoping...” He looked at Griff. “Apparently, I was hoping for more than Lord McElreath is capable of. I heard he was still at the Hellfire Club at breakfast this morning.”
“Winning or losing?” Griff asked.
“He won big until about three a.m., then he began losing steadily. One of his contemporaries finally persuaded him to leave the table before he lost it all.”
Griff whistled.
Jarrod’s sources of information never ceased to amaze his fellow Free Fellows.
“Would that be the same contemporary who joined you on your morning ride along the Row?” Sussex gave Jarrod an enigmatic smile.
Jarrod didn’t answer, but Sussex’s victory was short-lived. “The two ladies St. Germaine attended the breakfast,” Griff offered Sussex the bait.
Sussex bit. “Oh?”
Griff nodded.
“Who accompanied them?” Jarrod asked. “Linton? Carville? Nash? Or the Austrian archduke?” He glanced at Sussex.
“It was just the two of them,” Griff said. “With the dowager duchess acting as chaperone for Miranda.”
Sussex glared at Jarrod. “Why should Miranda’s escort matter to you?”
“I’ve a wager riding on it,” Jarrod retorted.
“You what?”
“I’ve a hefty wager riding on it,” Jarrod repeated.
“You wagered on who would be escorting Miranda to Grantham’s wedding?” Sussex was appalled.
Jarrod wore the same enigmatic smile Sussex had worn moments earlier. “No, Your Grace,” he replied. “I wagered on who would be escorting Lady St. Germaine down the aisle at St. Paul’s at the end of the season.”
“I’ll wager it won’t be Linton, Carville, Nash, or an Austrian archduke!” Sussex shot back.
Griff bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright. “I’ll take that wager,” he said. “Because I discovered at the wedding breakfast that Miranda has a much more determined admirer. One who announced that he intends to marry her.”
Sussex looked stunned.
Even Jarrod took pity on him. “Are you certain?”
Griff nodded. “I have it on excellent authority that this chap means to take Miranda to wife.” Just as soon as he grows up. But Griff saw no reason to mention that the admirer in question was Colin’s brother and only ten years of age.
Jarrod turned and began to pace in the opposite direction. “You don’t suppose Colin and his bride ran into trouble on the way to Shepherdston Hall, do you?”
“No,” Griff told him. “They got a late start. It took longer for them to distribute their gifts to the members of the wedding patty and to the staff than they anticipated.” Griff extended his arm to show off the pair of engraved gold cuff links Colin had given him for acting as his best man.
“Very nice,” Sussex said. “Dalrymple’s Jewelers?”
Griff nodded. “He purchased these for me and a lovely diamond and blue sapphire bracelet for Alyssa when he purchased his bride’s betrothal and wedding rings.”
Jarrod raised an eyebrow. “He purchased rings?”
“A flawless pink sapphire surrounded by diamonds and a gold band to match,” Griff told him.
“There were a number of extraordinary pieces connected to the Grantham viscountancy, if I recall,” Sussex said. “What happened to those?”
Griff took a deep breath. “What do you suppose?” Jarrod uttered a vile curse. “McElreath gambled them away.”
“And replaced them with paste while we were still at Knightsguild,” Griff added. “But Colin didn’t discover it until he went to his parents’ town house and asked his mother for the Grantham betrothal rings.”
“Bloody hell!” Sussex exploded, banging his fist on the table in a rare display of raw anger. “His father has stripped him of everything.”
Jarrod turned and looked at Sussex with new eyes. Sussex hadn’t attended the Knightsguild School for Gentleman with them. He hadn’t grown up with Colin or been a founding member of the Free Fellows League. Sussex had been an outsider until Colin and Jarrod challenged him to earn a place in the League. Sussex rose to the challenge, and when Griff returned from the Peninsula a hero, he had reluctantly allowed Sussex to join them. Sussex’s unexpected defense of Colin surprised him.
“What?” Sussex demanded when Jarrod continued to stare at him.
“I didn’t realize you cared,” Jarrod answered honestly.
“Why shouldn’t I care?” Sussex was stunned. “I’m a Free Fellow and a duke. I’ve wanted to be one of you since I learned the League existed. I waited years to gain entrée. Why shouldn’t I take exception to the fact that one of my brothers in arms and one of my peers has been stripped of his inheritance by the man charged with the duty of protecting it?” He looked at Jarrod. “Or is that concern reserved only for you
and Avon and Grantham because you’re original Free Fellows?”
“No,” Griff answered. “It is not.” He met Sussex’s angry gaze. “We are all Free Fellows and brothers in arms. When you became a Free Fellow doesn’t matter at all. What matters is that you are one of us. Right, Jarrod?”
“Right,” Jarrod agreed.
Sussex stared at Jarrod and then at Griff and back again. “I care more than you think about a great many things, and Colin is one of those things. I admire him,” Sussex told them. “I’ve known far too many peers like Lord McElreath, who drink and gamble and piss away their fortunes and their children’s futures. And I know far too many men in Colin’s position who weep and wail, bemoaning their bad fortunes whilst begging for loans. But Colin does none of those things. He earns his money.”
Jarrod and Griff exchanged glances. “You know about that?”
“I know he doesn’t accept any stipends for his work for the War Office. And I also know that the two of you”—he glanced at Griff and Jarrod—“secretly own a prominent investment firm that earns you handsome profits.” He waved away their protests. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. I realized Colin was the genius behind it.”
“How did you find out?” Jarrod asked. “And how long have you known?”
“We share a banker,” Sussex informed Jarrod, “who was eager to assure me that although the investment firm his bank had owned had changed hands, my investments would be entirely safe if I chose to reinvest in the firm at a future date.” Sussex smiled. “Of course, he told me this as he handed me a bank draft for the entire amount because the new owners insisted on refunding all existing accounts. When I refused to take his word for it, he confided that the Marquess of Shepherdston and Viscount Abernathy had purchased the majority shares in the firm shortly after they gained their majority. He also confided that he and his good friend, the Earl of Weymouth, owned the minority shares! He told me you insisted on refunding investments because you refused to speculate with a gentleman’s capital without permission to do so. Several days later, I received a letter informing me that the firm had changed hands and offering me the opportunity to reinvest.”
Griff frowned. “I wonder how many other investors he confided in.”
“None,” Sussex replied. “He’s completely trustworthy. He only confided in me because I threatened to close my accounts in his bank unless he did.”
“He believed you?” Griff was surprised. The banker in question had gone to school with Griff’s father, was a well-respected member of parliament, and had served as an undersecretary of the Treasury during several governments. Griffin had known Lord Mayhew all his life and knew that he was not a man given to accepting threats from young peers.
Sussex shrugged. “I’m a duke. And a very good customer. Besides, he’s my godfather. He knows me well.”
“He knows you very well. Well enough to assure me that you were completely trustworthy,” Jarrod said.
Sussex’s eyes sparkled. “It seems we’re sharing sources.”
“Yes, it does,” Jarrod agreed. “But I suppose that’s only natural, since we seem to share a godfather.”
Lord Mayhew was a widower. His wife had died at a very young age from complications of a pregnancy, and Mayhew had never remarried. Most people in the ton had forgotten that his late wife was the older sister of the late Marchioness of Shepherdston. Jarrod had been able to purchase the majority shares in Mayhew’s investment firm because unless Mayhew remarried and sired a son, Jarrod was his closest male relative and would one day inherit all his holdings.
Sussex was clearly surprised. “I know he has three or four godsons he sees regularly, but I didn’t know you were one of them.”
“I’m his heir.” Jarrod explained the connection.
“He and my father were good friends. Since he was the only man my father trusted to invest his money, he was the perfect choice for my godfather. We have dinner together twice a month when I’m in town—generally on Tuesday evenings.”
“We ride together along the Row two mornings a week whenever I’m in London,” Jarrod said.
“Make it unanimous,” Griff said. “He and my father were best friends at school. We lunch together here at the club two Thursdays a month when I’m in town.”
“What about Grantham?” Sussex asked. “Is Colin a godson, too?”
Jarrod shook his head. “No.”
“But Colin works with him on investments?” Sussex guessed.
“Not exactly.” Jarrod stopped pacing and raked his fingers through his hair.
“Then how?” Sussex wanted to know.
“Colin is damned prickly about the mention of money,” Griff said. “Or his lack thereof. He has been ever since we met him. And despite the fact that his father can’t gamble worth spit, Colin has a real talent for it. He’s a genius when it comes to cards and numbers.”
“He was always winning money from us and from the other boys at school. And at university, he did even better. Whenever he’d win a wager, he’d keep half and give the rest to me or to Griff to bank for him,” Jarrod continued.
“Colin never wagers more than he can afford and always banks half of it. Jarrod and I were very conscientious about banking his money for him.”
“Why didn’t he invest it?” Sussex asked. “If he has the talent for making it?”
“He was afraid of losing what he had, and he didn’t trust anyone to invest it,” Jarrod told him. “And until he reached his majority, there was the additional problem of keeping his father from learning about it. Because Lord McElreath—”
“Would lose it.” Sussex finished Jarrod’s sentence. “Yes,” Jarrod confirmed. “And Colin needed ready cash to give to his mother to pay creditors and support the family.”
Sussex nodded. “I see.”
“But it wasn’t enough,” Griff picked up the conversation. “We suggested he invest some of it, but Colin wouldn’t hear of it until we asked Lord Mayhew to explain how he could use some of Colin’s cash to make more. We set up a meeting, and Colin agreed to go. And before you know it, he’s advising Lord Mayhew and us on investments. We thought it a shame to waste such natural talent, so Lord Mayhew helped us set up a private investment firm where Colin could pursue his Midas touch in anonymity, without fear of having his reputation tainted by the suggestion of his actually working as an investment banker. He invests our money as well as his own, and we pay him commissions. Lord Mayhew kept a minority share of the firm and acts as its head, but Colin makes most of the investment decisions. Unfortunately, this business with the impostor Colin Fox has prevented him from concentrating on his investments as much as he’d like.”
“I know he needs to concentrate on increasing his capital more than ever now that he has the additional burdens of Liana’s coming out and a wife,” Jarrod acknowledged. “He married the girl to protect the League, but I can’t help feeling guilty because he doesn’t even own a home to which to take her. Her father must have provided a generous dowry. But you know Colin and his prickly pride. He’ll never use her money to purchase a house. He’ll want to pay for it himself. I don’t think he can afford it. Unfortunately, we need him to continue his missions.”
“Set your mind at ease on that score, Jarrod, because Colin is going to be fine.” Griff grinned. “Viscountess Grantham isn’t going to be a financial burden. Her dowry is very generous. And I promise you she will have a suitable roof over her head. Baron Davies gave them one as a wedding gift.”
“I can’t believe Grantham accepted it,” Sussex marveled. “It would be hard to refuse Number Twenty-one Park Lane, even for someone with Colin’s prickly Scots pride.” Jarrod thought for a moment. “Number Twenty-one. That’s Lord Herrin’s place.”
“Was Lord Herrin’s place,” Griff corrected. “Now it belongs to Lord and Lady Grantham.” He grinned at his fellow Free Fellows. “I wouldn’t expect word from Pomfrey until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. I feel certain Colin and his new bride decided to
take a look at their wedding gift.”
“There’s one way to be sure.” Jarrod’s grin matched Griff’s.
“We are not paying a call at Twenty-one Park Lane on their wedding night,” Griff protested.
“It is on the way home,” Sussex said thoughtfully.
“And we wouldn’t dream of paying a call,” Jarrod promised. “But there’s no reason we can’t drive by to see if it looks occupied.”
Griff threw up his hands. “Heaven help us if Colin or my wife hear about this.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“The bright day is done, and we are for the dark.”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
Antony and Cleopatra
Lord and Lady Grantham had long departed Number Twenty-one Park Lane by the time the other members of the Free Fellows League drove by. Gillian struggled to keep her eyes open as the coach swayed back and forth along the Post Road out of London toward Bedfordshire and Shepherdston Hall.
“Why not give in to it,” Colin asked gently, “and sleep?”
Gillian said the first thing that came into her head. “It would be rude for me to sleep while you’re awake.”
Colin smiled. “Not if I’m keeping watch.”
“Are you?” she asked.
“I am if you’re going to sleep.”
“And if I don’t sleep?” She smothered a yawn and asked the question just to hear his answer.
Merely the Groom Page 20
