Barely a Bride (Free Fellows League 1)

“Grantham and Shepherdston couldn’t come,” Griff told her. “They’re Fre—” He bit his tongue.

“They’re what?” she asked.

“They’re friends,” Griff improvised, “from my bachelor days.” He’d almost proclaimed them Free Fellows. “As such, I’m sure they sent their regrets. It’s generally understood that it’s bad form for bachelors to attend a friend’s wedding, even when invited to do so.”

“But they’re your friends,” Alyssa protested. “And I didn’t want them to feel excluded.”

Griffin pulled her closer, so that she fit neatly into the curve of his side, and then gave her waist a reassuring squeeze. “They weren’t excluded,” he said. “You invited them. Shepherdston and Grantham sent regrets because they’re gentlemen and they understand how and why things are done the way they are.” He frowned. “Unfortunately, His Grace doesn’t subscribe to the same sensibilities, or he wouldn’t be here, either.”

“I didn’t invite…” Alyssa turned to find the Duke of Sussex striding through the door. “His Grace.”

“Well, someone did,” Griff said.

He and Alyssa looked at one another and then spoke in unison.

“Your mother.”

“My mother.”

Alyssa sighed. “It had to be my mother—or my father…”

Griff shook his head. “Your father is a gentlemen. Gentlemen do not refuse another gentleman’s offer for his daughter’s hand in marriage and then invite him to the wedding. It’s poor form.”

“Then it must have been Mama. She wants so much to be considered one of the premier hostesses that it would never occur to her not to invite a duke. Any duke.”

“Nevertheless…” Griff scowled. “His Grace should have had the decency not to attend. He knows the ways of society. He understands that we were rivals for your hand.” Griff gritted his teeth until his jaw muscles ached. “He may have received an invitation,” he continued, “but he knows he didn’t come at my invitation.”

Alyssa widened her eyes. “You don’t suppose he thinks he came at mine?”

“Not unless you gave him reason to hope—” Griff began.

“I haven’t spoken to him since we were children,” Alyssa said. “And I wouldn’t have provided him with reason to hope, even if such a thing had been possible, because I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t want to become a duchess.”

“Well, buck up,” Griff said, tightening his grasp on her waist ever so slightly in what could only be called a masculine show of possession. “Because he’s coming over to offer his felicitations.”

“As if either of us wanted them,” Alyssa muttered. She understood exactly what was taking place, and none of it had anything to do with His Grace offering his felicitations on their wedding. Alyssa had seen this behavior before. If Griffin or His Grace had been one of her father’s hounds, they would have been busily engaged in the business of marking their territories.

“May I offer you congratulations on the occasion of your wedding, Lady Abernathy, and offer you many happy returns of the day?” His Grace, the Duke of Sussex, bowed before Alyssa.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she answered.

“And congratulations to you as well, Abernathy.” Sussex offered his hand to Griffin. “I cannot profess to believe that as a husband, you are the best choice for Lady Alyssa, but—”

Griff looked Sussex in the eye but made no move to shake his hand. “I don’t care what you profess, Your Grace,” Griff said. “As a husband, I was Lady Alyssa’s choice.”

Sussex lifted one elegantly arched eyebrow as he dropped his hand back down to his side. “Indeed? I was given to understand that Lord Tressingham’s acquisition of a prized stallion induced him to make the choice.”

“Be careful, Your Grace,” Alyssa warned in a fierce whisper. “For I have been told once too often today that my father bartered me in exchange for a horse.” She gazed up at the handsome duke. “And I promised myself that I would shoot the next person who suggested it.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ve never shot anyone before, and I never dreamed I would have to begin with so august a personage, but I am willing to start at the top—if you are…”

Griffin smiled at his wife before turning to the duke. “As you can see, Your Grace, you have been misinformed. Your understanding of the situation is incorrect. And I would not go around repeating so inaccurate a statement, were I you.”

Sussex stiffened. “But you are not me.”

“On that we are agreed.” Griff smiled at the young duke. “For I am Lady Alyssa’s husband. You are not.” He offered Alyssa his arm. “Now, if you will be so kind as to excuse us, Your Grace, there are other wedding guests who wish an opportunity to offer us their felicitations.”

Sussex inhaled sharply. One did not dismiss a duke. One waited until the duke dismissed him. But, His Grace admitted, one didn’t normally challenge the bridegroom on his wedding day, either. “It’s been understood for some time now, that I would take one of Tressingham’s daughters to wife.”

“I’m afraid you missed out, Your Grace,” Griffin responded, taking a step toward the duke. “Four times. Lady Abernathy’s sisters preceded her in marriage. And Lord Tressingham hasn’t any other daughters.”