"Well, are you or aren't you?"
The demand came without warning.
Finding his way blocked by a gorgeous Amazon wearing a shimmering gold gown, Alexander Courtland took an involuntary step backward, narrowly avoiding bumping into a passing matron wearing yards of purple silk and a cloud of sickeningly sweet perfume.
Since he'd been contemplating making his excuses to his hostess and exiting the party in favor of the comfort of his warm bed and an equally warm companion, plucked not from the ranks of the Season's newest crop of eligible young ladies, but from Madame Theo's elegant house on Portman Square, Alex wondered if the lovely Amazon had read his mind.
Lifting an eyebrow in query, Alex did his best to disguise his chagrin at being taken by surprise. "Do what, Your Grace?"
Miranda, Duchess of Sussex, pursed her lips, then gave a quick, decisive nod of her head that set the yellow diamonds in her drop earrings dancing. Alex followed Miranda's line of sight to a woman sitting with a group of chaperones near the dance floor. "Help her."
"Lady McElreath?" Alex was surprised and a bit nonplussed to discover Miranda had nodded not toward this season's crop of young hopefuls, but toward the mother of one of his Free Fellow colleagues.
"Of course, Lady McElreath." Groaning in frustration at Alex's apparent dim-wittedness, Miranda flicked her lace fan closed, then drew back her hand to rap him on the arm with it.
"Now, now, Your Grace, no fair whacking the man now that you outrank him."
Instantly recognizing her husband's teasing drawl, Miranda looked up to find Daniel frowning down at her. "I'm not whacking him because I outrank him," she said. "I'm whacking him for pretending ignorance and indifference to a desperate woman's plight."
Daniel reached out and gently took hold of his wife's arm before slipping the ribbon of her frilly gold lace fan off her wrist, and over her gloved hand, expertly removing Miranda's makeshift weapon from her grasp.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. Not that he was afraid of Miranda. But she did have a redhead's temper and a fair amount of strength. If she'd whacked him, she'd have made sure it hurt.
"He makes me so mad I could scream. He's the only one who can help her. The only one who can do what has to be done." Miranda fought to keep from stamping her foot in frustration. "We didn't go to the trouble of getting her here alone so that he can pretend ignorance of her plight and ignore her."
"You're doing our friend an injustice, my love," Daniel explained, placing Miranda's fan into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket. "He's not pretending. His ignorance of the situation is genuine."
Alex frowned at his friend. He didn't know whether to be affronted or pleased by Daniel's timely intervention. Alex would willingly risk life and limb for his Free Fellow brethren and their families, and had done so on several memorable occasions. But having Daniel describe him as an ignorant of any situation stung a bit.
Alex respected the Duke of Sussex, loved him as a friend and a brother, and trusted and admired him as a talented and courageous leader. He was honored to call Daniel his friend and Alex felt the same way about Miranda. He was glad Daniel and Miranda had finally realized what everyone else in London society had known for years - that they were made for each other - and had married. Glad Miranda had finally rid herself of her unofficial title of 'Society's Perennial Bridesmaid', but he was wary of her new reputation as 'Matchmaker of Mayfair'.
Alex dreaded having the new duchess turn her matchmaking eye in his direction. He'd been lucky so far because Miranda and Daniel were still newlyweds and engrossed in each other almost to the exclusion of all else, but tonight his luck had apparently run out. Alex recognized Miranda's desire to see all of her friends as happily wed as she was and appreciated Miranda's well-meaning intentions, but he could attend to his own affairs without her assistance.
"He's been avoiding her for days," Miranda insisted. "Ignoring her urgent notes and the calling cards she left with his butler."
Alex frowned. What notes? What calling cards? This was the first he'd heard about urgent notes and calling cards. From Lady McElreath or anyone else. He'd only just arrived home from his latest mission and had barely enough time to bathe and dress in order to honor his commitment and make an appearance at tonight's party. The only exchange he'd had with his butler had consisted of a greeting and an order for a hot bath.
"I beg your pardon, Your Grace. I am guilty of many sins, but avoiding Lady McElreath isn't one of them," Alex protested, straightening his shoulders and pulling himself to his full height to give himself an inch or so advantage over the nearly six-foot tall duchess. "I wouldn't hesitate to rush to her aid in a moment had I known of her distress." He glanced toward the area just beyond the dance floor where Lady McElreath was sitting, now partially obscured by the whirling skirts and the movements of the dancers, automatically searching the crowd for a glimpse of Lady McElreath's eldest daughter before turning his attention back to the duke and duchess. "I wasn't aware Lady McElreath was in need."
"If you answered your correspondence you would know." Miranda pounced.
"Alex has been away, sweetheart," Daniel told her, changing his inflection ever-so-slightly as he added, "on business."
Immediately grasping her husband's meaning, Miranda sheathed her claws. Business in that tone of voice always meant important, secretive business neither Daniel nor his friends could discuss.
"For the past sennight," Alex added. "I returned this afternoon and was home only long enough to bathe and change." He looked down at his evening wear as if checking to make certain he was socially presentable. "In my haste to get here on time, I'm afraid I neglected to ask Langdon for my social correspondence." Alex's urgent business had been in France, playing cat and mouse with Bonaparte's spies. The war might be over and Bonaparte might be safely contained on Elba, but his network of spies was still operating in the service of their former
emperor.
And as long as the French spies continued their work, Alex and the Free Fellows League would continue theirs. That meant that while Colin, Jarrod, and Jonathan and their wives and Griffin's father, the Earl of Weymouth, were visiting Austria as part of a large English contingent gathering for the upcoming Congress of Vienna, Alex and Daniel and Griffin were continuing their work at home. Daniel had temporarily assumed Jarrod's leadership role in London so Griff could remain at his country house with his duchess and with his mother, both of whom were impatiently awaiting the birth of their children. Griff's first child, and as unlikely as it seemed, his first sibling.
As the lone remaining bachelor of the group, Alex continued to cross and re-cross the Channel, sneaking in and out of France, keeping a close watch on his French counterparts sneaking in and out of England.
"I surmised as much," Daniel said. "When your man, Langdon, came to me with his concerns early this morning. He told me Lady McElreath had sent you several urgent notes and he was afraid you might not arrive home in time to respond promptly."
Alex nodded. He'd given his butler standing orders to consult the Duke of Sussex or the Marquess of Shepherdston with any urgent matters whenever Alex was away from London on business.
"I took it upon myself to ask Lady Creighton to invite Lady McElreath to tonight's soiree′," Daniel continued, "because I knew you would be in attendance and that Lord McElreath would not."
"I don't understand," Alex began.
Daniel gave Alex a rueful little smile, before leaning close and lowering his voice. "I've a most important assignment for you, Alex. One only you can accomplish."
"Anything," Alex vowed.
