“The two viscounts and the marquess,” her mother explained with an excited, almost giddy edge to her words.
“What is so exciting about two viscounts, a marquess, and a duke at Almack’s?” Alyssa asked. “Everyone in society comes here. The rooms are packed with viscounts, marquesses, and dukes.”
“Not with these viscounts, marquesses, and dukes,” Lady Tressingham told her. “They’ve never been known to darken the assembly room doors. There have been rumors, but I didn’t believe it possible… Still, if Sussex, Shepherdston, Grantham, and Abernathy are here, they’ve come looking for brides. I wonder which one it is or if they’ve all decided to marry.”
“Did you say Abernathy?”
“Of course, my little Incomparable.” The countess shivered with excitement. “Lady Cowper and the other patronesses are beside themselves with anticipation and joy. This is a first, my darling girl. History is being made and we are here to play a part in it.”
Alyssa groaned at her mother’s histrionics. But Lady Tressingham took no notice. “These are four of the wealthiest and most eligible gentlemen in London.” She paused. “Well, three of the wealthiest. I’ve heard that Viscount Grantham is a bit pressed for cash, but no matter. He’ll find a suitable heiress.”
“How can you be so sure?” Alyssa was intrigued in spite of herself.
“There aren’t that many eligible viscounts left. What untitled heiress or heiress from a recently titled family wouldn’t want to marry a viscount whose family name and titles date back to the time of Macbeth?”
“I’m sure there must be one or two besides me,” Alyssa answered. “I cannot be the only forward-thinking girl in London.”
“You read too much,” Lady Tressingham said flatly. “And you think too much. It puts silly notions in your head.” She took hold of her daughter’s chin and turned Alyssa to face her. After quickly pinching color into Alyssa’s cheeks, Lady Tressingham placed her hands on Alyssa’s shoulders and turned her toward Lady Cowper. “Take a good look at them, my darling, and tell me that you wouldn’t be flattered to have any one of them single you out for a waltz.”
Alyssa looked, and what she saw made her jaw drop open in a most unladylike fashion.
“Close your mouth, dear,” her mother advised, “or use your fan to cover it. You’ll draw flies.”
Lady Tressingham was gratified to see that for once her daughter did as she was told. “Forget the marquess and the viscounts and concentrate your attentions on the duke. Her Grace, the duchess, has often reminded me that she intends to have the best for her son. And my girls are the best.”
Alyssa nodded in absentminded agreement, but she barely spared a glance for the tall, elegantly handsome man. Her attention was focused not on the duke but on the man in the center of the group of three.
He was staring at her, and Alyssa could feel the heat of his gaze from across the room. It wasn’t the first time she’d caught him looking at her. She’d seen him at Lady Cleveland’s earlier in the week and then again, two days later, at Lady Dorrance’s musicale. She remembered him, remembered the expression on his face when he looked at her and the heat reflected in his brilliant blue eyes. His was a face a woman dreamed about. And although she hated to admit it, Alyssa had found herself dreaming about it ever since she’d first seen him at Lady Cleveland’s ball for the simple reason that he was unforgettable.
Chapter Five
“Although normally deadly dull and unremarkable this early in the season, my accidental discovery of the existence of the Free Fellows league has made Almack’s quite the opposite tonight.”
—Lady Alyssa Carrollton, diary notation, 25 April 1810
“That’s the one,” Griffin said, nodding at the girl standing with her mother across the room.
Jarrod groaned.
“What is it?”
“You don’t want that one,” Jarrod answered.
“Of course I do,” Griff responded, narrowing his gaze at Jarrod. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”
Although he tended to avoid the ton as much as possible, Jarrod knew everyone in it and all the latest on-dits about them. “Beyond being a bit more rational than most any female I’ve ever met, there’s nothing wrong with her. “
“Then what’s the matter?” Griff demanded. “Who is she?”
“Lady Alyssa Carrollton.”
Griffin wrinkled his brow. He knew that name from somewhere. “Carrollton? Isn’t that the family name of the Earl of—”
“Yes.” Colin nodded. “Tressingham. The one who talks of nothing but horseflesh and hounds. Every time you see him. Bores you silly. Even carries miniatures of his favorite hounds. Tressingham is the one who’s always after your father to breed Weymouth’s dog to Tressingham’s bitch.”
“That seems to be what Griff has in mind,” Jarrod remarked dryly. “Only in human form.”
Griff closed his eyes and slowly shook his head from side to side, as if unable to comprehend the news that the young lady of his dreams was the daughter of the biggest bore in England. “He has a daughter who looks like that and he carries miniatures of his hounds?” He opened his eyes and stared at Lady Alyssa. “There must be a strain of madness in the family.” He glanced over at Jarrod and winked. “Blister it, but I knew there had to be a fly in the ointment somewhere!”