“I’d have to part with him anyway,” Griff said. “I’m not taking him to Spain. I’ll not risk having him killed in battle. He’ll stay here where he’s safe, and Tressingham will take very good care of him.” He closed his eyes and firmed his jaw against the sudden pang of loss. “Tressingham’s an eccentric bore, but he knows the value of prime horseflesh, and he knows how to breed champions. Tressingham was thrilled to get him, even on loan. He’ll take excellent care of Apollo. He’s convinced he’s gotten the better bargain.”
“Does the girl know?” Weymouth asked as soon as he’d recovered his composure and his ability to speak.
“That her father traded her for a black stallion and the promise of a litter of foxhounds?” Griff shook his head. “God, I hope not.” He opened his eyes and stared at his father. “Being forced to marry a virtual stranger in order to fulfill one’s obligation to one’s family is bad enough. She shouldn’t have to face the fact that her father didn’t give a rip about her wants or needs but thought only to satisfy his own selfish desire.”
“The girl means that much to you?” Weymouth was clearly surprised by Griff’s vehement reaction.
Griff snorted. “She means nothing to me, sir. I only met her last evening.”
Weymouth frowned once again. “But—”
“Let’s just say that, contrary to what you and Mother believe, I’m not especially prime husband material for a lady like Alyssa Carrollton. I’m a cavalry officer. She deserves much better than what I’m offering.”
“Her family put her on th
e marriage mart, son. You had nothing to do with that.”
“But I’m about to take advantage of it.”
“That’s true,” Weymouth replied. “But you don’t have to be eaten up with remorse about it. You made an offer. Her father accepted it. If you think she deserves better than what she’s getting, you’re to blame because you’re the only one who can change it. Give the girl the best you have to give. You’re marrying her to satisfy your family obligations so that you can go to war and defend your country, knowing you’ve done your duty to provide for the future of the family. That’s as it should be.” He looked Griffin in the eye. “Almost all of us marry for reasons of family and duty. That is how great families survive and prosper. But marrying for dynastic reasons doesn’t mean that it has to be all business. Romance the girl.”
“Lady Alyssa doesn’t appear to be enthralled with the idea of romance,” Griff replied. “And quite frankly, neither am I.”
Weymouth shook his head in disbelief. “Youth is wasted on the young. Don’t be a fool, Griffin. All young girls are interested in romance,” Weymouth pronounced. “Whether they know it or not. You’ve chosen her to be the mother of your child,” he reminded his son. “Make certain she gets something out of it.”
“She’s getting a possible child, a title, an absentee husband, a neglected manor house, and the opportunity to create the garden of her dreams,” Griff replied sarcastically. “Not to mention a betrothal ring the size of a bird’s egg and a wedding at Saint Paul’s. What more could an Incomparable want?”
“Memories.”
Griff looked over at his father.
Weymouth met his unflinching gaze. “You’re going off to war, son. Make certain that it’s worth the pain and the bother. Don’t just make a child, my boy. Make memories. Give your bride a reason to look forward to your return and give yourself another reason to return.” Weymouth cleared his throat once, and then once more, before shifting the conversation to a safer topic. “Have you presented her with a ring?”
“Not yet.”
“I assume your mention of a betrothal ring the size of a bird’s egg means you wish to present her with your great-grandmother Abernathy’s betrothal ring.”
“Not necessarily. I simply used it for reference. I don’t make a habit of studying them, but the ones I’ve seen are the size of bird’s eggs. I assumed that any betrothal ring I give her should be large enough to please and impress the future in-laws and the society gossips.”
“Well, you’re entitled to give her your great-grandmother’s ring if you wish. It’s in the safe at Weymouth House along with all the other Abernathy and Maitland family jewels.”
Griff frowned, uncomfortable with the prospect of weighing Alyssa down with a child and a collection of his great-grandmother’s gaudily ostentatious canary diamonds. “The Abernathy jewels belong to Mother,” he said.
Weymouth allowed a tiny amused smile to turn up the corners of his mouth. “Only until you marry; then they belong to the Viscountess Abernathy. Your mother understands that.”
“I’ve never really cared for Great-grandmother Abernathy’s ring,” Griff said. “And I thought Alyssa might like a ring of her own. I thought she might appreciate having a ring that hasn’t been used for someone else’s betrothal.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I’ve an appointment with Rundell and Bridges Jewelers on Ludgate Hill at four of the clock this afternoon.”
The earl widened his smile. “The center stone of your great grandmother’s ring is a forty-carat canary diamond. Matching rows of lesser-carat diamonds surround it, and your mother never cared for it, either.” He shook his head. “I vow I’ll never understand it. Yes, I agree, it’s gaudy. But it’s worth a bloody fortune. Queens have financed entire armies for less, and our own Prince of Wales salivates every time he sees it.”
“Nevertheless.” Griff shook his head. “I can well afford the price of a betrothal ring for my bride-to-be, and I would like to buy her something special.”
Ever practical, Weymouth replied, “You can always have the stone placed in a new setting.”
Griff declined the offer. “I think another type of stone would better compliment Lady Alyssa’s hand.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Griff shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t the slightest. But I’ll know it when I see it.”