“Your Grace?”
She looked up at Keswick. “He’s setting me free again so that I might choose a man worthy of me.” She rolled her eyes. “As if there was a man more worthy than Griffin.” She sighed. “But I suppose I should give him back what he seems to crave: his Free Fellow status.”
Keswick cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain, Your Grace?”
“Most assuredly.”
* * *
She made herself wait a week before following Griffin to London and when she arrived, she went straight to his rented town house.
“I’m sorry, Madam,” the butler apologized. “But His Grace is not at home.”
“Then it is most fortuitous that His Grace’s presence isn’t required.” She smiled at the butler. “I am the Duchess of Avon. Please see that my bags are brought inside and that Durham, my lady’s maid, is settled in.” She arched an eyebrow. “And I’ll require tonight’s invitations. Please see that they’re brought to the master suite. Where is the master suite?”
“Up the stairs, down the corridor to the right.”
Alyssa breezed past him and started up the stairs.
“But, Your Grace, His Grace said nothing to me of your impending arrival…”
“I decided to surprise him.”
* * *
And surprise him she did.
The Duke of Avon had become the toast of London. He was welcomed and feted everywhere, and everywhere he appeared Alyssa turned up, along with her flock of young admirers.
She curtsied to the Prince Regent and smiled proudly when Griffin received the Order of the Garter, but later that evening, she retired to her bedchamber without a word.
They were sharing a town house, but Alyssa didn’t speak or acknowledge his existence unless guests were present and then only in the most coolly polite manner. She lavished attention on Colin and Jarrod and everyone who called at the house, but she gave nothing to her husband except a cold shoulder.
“What the devil does she think she’s doing? Dressed like that?” Griffin glared over Jarrod’s shoulder to where Alyssa stood, dressed in a daringly low cut gown of silver tissue, and surrounded by young bucks.
Jarrod bit back a smile. “Apparently, she knows exactly what she’s doing.”
“She didn’t become an Incomparable for nothing.” Colin gave a low admiring whistle. “Especially when only the best will do.”
“What are you talking about?” Griffin demanded.
Colin squinted through the throng of people crowding Lord and Lady Tressingham’s ballroom where Griffin’s in-laws were hosting a huge ball in his honor. “Isn’t that His Grace, the Duke of Sussex, asking your wife to dance?”
“Over my dead body!” Griffin exclaimed, grabbing his cane.
The other two Free Fellows watched in amused fascination as Griffin limped across the ballroom floor.
* * *
“Good evening, your grace.” Sussex bowed to Alyssa.
She smiled. “Good evening to you, Your Grace.”
“I always believed you were meant to be a duchess,” he teased. “Unfortunately, you weren’t meant to be my duchess.”
“You are not alone in your way of thinking, Your Grace,” Alyssa admitted, glancing down at the toes of her dancing slippers. “Apparently, my husband shares your feeling.”
Sussex frowned before he moved a step closer and lifted Alyssa’s chin with the tip of his index finger so that he might look her in the eye. “You think so?”