Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League 1)

Alyssa sighed. Finding a suitable husband and waiting until she was married with a home of her own was her mother’s answer for everything.

“I know you don’t agree, Mama, but in my own way, I have

been preparing to manage a home of my own.” Lady Tressingham’s face softened, and she smiled at her youngest and most stubborn of daughters. “I know that, my darling, but you’ve concentrated all of your attention on preparing to manage a home once you’re married. You’ve done very little preparation and given very little attention to the business of finding the man who will marry you and provide you with a home and a staff of your own.”

“I did manage to become an Incomparable,” Alyssa reminded her mother.

Lady Tressingham narrowed her gaze at Alyssa. “You did what was expected of you. Fortunately, your sisters and I laid the groundwork for you to build upon. Your accomplishment in becoming an Incomparable was as much mine and your sisters’ doing as yours,” she said. “Had I not been so diligent and had your sisters not made such brilliant matches, you might not have received your voucher to Almack’s or been accepted by the ton.”

“But I did receive my voucher,” Alyssa retorted, “and I’ve managed to acquire a few suitors along the way.”

“That you have.” Lady Tressingham smiled. “And the most important one will soon pay a call on your father. If things go as expected during their interview, you should be married before the season is over.”

Alyssa let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Griffin Abernathy had said he would call, and she believed him because he was a man of his word. Still, the waiting had kept Alyssa on pins and needles all morning. There had been no word of his arrival, and the hours she’d spent at her bedroom window had all been for naught.

Her bedroom faced the rear of the house overlooking the gardens. She’d chosen it for precisely that reason, but at the time she’d chosen it, Alyssa hadn’t realized that she would, one day, need a view of the front entrance or the stables. As a result of her unfortunate choice of rooms, she hadn’t witnessed the viscount’s arrival or his departure, and no one had seen fit to inform her.

After waiting for what seemed like hours for someone to tell her that Viscount Abernathy had called for her, she’d managed to occupy her time by interviewing Mrs. Warrick and conducting an inventory of the linen cupboards.

The inventory had yielded the discovery that the Tressinghams’ London residence was dangerously low on the rosewater used to rinse Lady Tressingham’s linens. Alyssa had leaped at the opportunity to do something about it and had quickly taken charge of the task of replenishing the supply.

After sending word to the gardeners instructing them to gather a supply of rose petals along with a few rosebuds and fresh lavender from the garden, Alyssa selected the items she needed, ordered the stockpot she customarily used filled with water and set to boil, and prepared a work space at the massive table in the room off the kitchen. Once the basket of rose petals arrived, Alyssa began the process of making bottles of rosewater.

She poured the last of the liquid from the pot into a bottle, then set the pot aside and corked and labeled the final bottle. Satisfied, she surveyed the fruits of her labor. Twenty-six bottles. That wouldn’t be enough to last to the end of the season, but it would do until there were enough rose petals from the garden to make another batch.

But now that her task was done, Alyssa desperately needed something else to do. Something else to occupy her mind as well as her hands. Why was it that daughters were the last to know what their future held in store? There must be something else she could do. Something the housekeeper wouldn’t object to.

Perhaps she could inventory the supply of beeswax candles on hand or make out the menu of refreshments to be served during the remainder of the season’s morning calls. Surely, Mrs. Warrick wouldn’t object to that.

Alyssa sighed. She knew her mother and the London housekeeper wished she were more like her older sisters. Amy, Adelaide, and Anne were all quiet, unassuming beauties that didn’t question their places in the world.

But Alyssa was different. She had always yearned to make the world a better place for the people she loved. She couldn’t sit and embroider and make polite conversation with her sisters and the other ladies who came to call, not when she knew there were so many other more important things that needed to be done. She had learned early on that she was a doer. She was a person who needed to be needed but who also needed to be up and about and doing the things she felt she should do.

And today, she felt she needed to keep busy so she wouldn’t have to worry about the outcome of Griffin Abernathy’s interview with her father.

“Your sisters have all married well, but as a duchess, you shall best them all.”

Her mother’s words interrupted her thoughts. Alyssa frowned. “Duchess?”

“Of Sussex, no less. I told you, Her Grace and I have had an understanding for years.” Lady Tressingham’s voice quivered with excitement. “She assured me that His Grace would pay your father a call. I can hardly believe our good fortune. It’s too good to be true.”

Alyssa fervently hoped her mother was right. She hoped becoming the Duchess of Sussex was too good to be true. Was it possible? Had Lord Abernathy broken his word? Had he changed his mind about offering for her?

“His Grace paid a call on Papa?”

Lady Tressingham frowned. “Not yet. But he will. Imagine, my daughter the duchess.”

Alyssa couldn’t imagine it. Not after kissing Griffin Abernathy at Almack’s. And she hoped she never had to.

“Has Papa had any other visitors today?” Alyssa tried to sound nonchalant, but her mother wasn’t fooled.

Lady Tressingham drew her brows together in a wrinkle-inducing frown she ordinarily avoided at all costs. “Yes, he has” she answered. “Lord Linton and the young viscount. But, Alyssa, you must know that His Grace is the only suitor your father and I will consider. I doubt your father wasted any time sending Lord Linton and Lord Abernathy packing.”

“Are you certain?”

“I know he sent Lord Linton home disappointed,” her mother answered. “And he was about to dispense with Lord Abernathy.”

“Oh.”