“As will I,” Colin added.
Perpetually short of blunt, Colin kept suites of rooms at Griffin’s rented town house in London and at Jarrod’s country house. “Oh, and I’ll be relinquishing my suite of rooms in your town house,” Colin said.
“You don’t have to do that,” Griff told him.
“I’m afraid he does,” Jarrod said. “You’re getting married in a few days. Your bride may want to come to London for the remainder of the season and take up residence in your town house.”
“She can’t do that with me in residence,” Colin said. “It wouldn’t look right.”
“She won’t come to London while I’m gone,” Griff told them. “She doesn’t want a London season. She wants a home of her own far away from London. She wants Abernathy Manor.”
Colin held up his hand. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve already arranged to move my belongings into Jarrod’s town house.”
Griff took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. “She’ll have her parents,” he said. “And my mother and father, but she’ll be alone at the manor.” His voice cracked, and Griff took a moment to compose himself. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I was hoping you two would check on her from time to time while I’m away.”
“Of course,” Jarrod said.
“That goes without saying,” Colin agreed. “We’re brothers. We take care of our own.”
“Thank you.” Griff stood up.
“Good luck, Griff. Don’t worry about Lady Alyssa or the manor. We’ll take care of the home front,” Jarrod promised.
“Take care of yourself,” Colin reminded him. “And keep your head down.”
Griff smiled. “It’s been a hell of a day.”
Jarrod stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “And the coming week is going to be equally challenging.”
Colin laughed. “Go on home, man. Get some rest. With a wedding, a honeymoon, and the joining of your regiment, you’re going to need it.”
Chapter Fifteen
“For better or for worse, I am married.”
—Alyssa, Lady Abernathy, diary entry, 04 May 1810
Planning a society wedding for two hundred guests in less than a week’s time required the skill of a military genius, the negotiating arts of a practiced diplomatist, and the stamina of a dozen men. Execution of the plan required the talents of a huge, loyal, and dedicated household staff—several huge, loyal, dedicated, and talented staffs. And lots of ready cash.
By dawn on the morning of the wedding, Alyssa had pressed the Tressingham household staffs in London and at Tressingham Court, as well as Lord and Lady Weymouth’s London staff, Griff’s rented staff, the staffs of her sisters—Amelia, Lady Brookestone; Anne, Lady Garrison; and Adelaide, Lady Hastings—and the Marquess of Shepherdston’s London staff into service.
It seemed that nearly every merchant and tradesman in London had something to do with the wedding of Lady Alyssa Carrollton to Lord Griffin Abernathy. Vast sums of money changed hands on a daily basis. The services that couldn’t be bought—even at unusually exorbitant prices—were purchased with favors owed and the promise of future favors. Every string that could be pulled had been pulled, and every account ever owed had been settled and then some.
Even the Prince of Wales contributed by commanding his personal pastry chef and several of the chef’s assistants to fashion the wedding cake as Alyssa, Lady Tressingham, and Lady Weymouth mobilized an army of domestic and trades help in order to create a miracle.
The wedding party itself was rather small and intimate. Alyssa had four attendants: her three sisters and the only real friend she had made during her two London seasons, Lady Miranda Saint Germaine. Lady Tressingham had objected to having her three married daughters serve as Alyssa’s bridesmaids, insisting that the bridesmaids be maids instead of matrons—one of whom had to be hastily churched and the other two of whom were increasing, although it was not yet noticeable or common knowledge. Lady Tressingham had pushed for eight bridesmaids, all unmarried debutante daughters of the ton, but Alyssa had stood firm. She wanted only four attendants, her sisters and Lady Miranda.
Lady Tressingham didn’t like the fact that Lady Miranda had a reputation for being the ton’s perpetual bridesmaid, but Alyssa didn’t care. She asked Miranda to be her maid of honor, and Miranda agreed.
Griffin’s only choice as a groomsman was his father. Lord Weymouth agreed to stand up for his son by serving as best man. Alyssa wondered why Griffin hadn’t asked his close friends to be groomsmen, but she didn’t question him about it. She simply pressed her brothers-in-law into service as groomsmen, charging them with the duty of seating guests before the ceremony and accompanying their wives down the aisle immediately after it.
Like her choice of wedding decorations, the bridesmaids’ gowns were elegant and understated, expensive but not ostentatious, sheaths of iridescent pale green silk trimmed in exquisite Honiton lace.
Griffin and the groomsmen wore single-breasted morning coats of navy blue superfine and light gray trousers.
Alyssa’s gown of shimmering white satin was one of two gowns that had been created for her presentation at court. The hem of the ball gown and the four-foot train were decorated with hundreds of tiny seed pearls sewn in an elegant trailing vine pattern accented with tiny diamonds.
In place of the regulation three white egret feathers and diamond clips she would have worn for her presentation, Alyssa wore a small wreath of orange blossoms and a veil made from the same Honiton lace as that used to decorate her attendants’ dresses.