Reaching into the wagon, the duke removed a delicate looking potted plant from the padded crate, then untied his horse from the back of the wagon before nodding toward the driver of the wagon and the laborer who had accompanied him. “Take the peafowl around to the… He turned to Alyssa.
“West lawn,” she answered.
“West lawn,” he repeated. “And take the swans to the pond. Don’t worry,” he said to Alyssa. “Their wings have been clipped.”
“I wasn’t worried.” Alyssa waited until the wagon rumbled down the drive toward the west lawn and the pond at the far end of it. “And thank you once again, Your Grace,” she murmured. “What is a garden without swans and peacocks?”
“Or exotic plants.” Sussex handed Alyssa the plant. “This is for your conservatory. It’s an orchis plant.”
Alyssa smiled. “Yes, Your Grace, I recognized it as such.”
“Of course.” He smiled. “The head gardener at Sussex House developed this one. It’s a new variety. The only one of its kind.”
“You should keep it for your conservatory, Your Grace. It’s much too valuable to give away,” Alyssa protested.
Sussex held up his hand to forestall her. “This one no longer belongs in my conservatory,” he informed her. “You see, my mother had it registered with the Royal Botanical Society as an Orchis alyssium.” He winced. “A bit prematurely it seems, but she intended the flowers to be used in your bridal bouquet. At our wedding.” He shoved the pot toward her. “Please, take it. As you can no doubt imagine, it’s best, under the circumstances, that there be no reminders of my failure to bring that plan to fruition.”
Alyssa accepted the plant. She motioned for one of the gardeners’ assistants, then asked him to carry it to the conservatory.
“Give it the care it needs,” Sussex instructed, “because it’s as unique as its namesake.”
“Your Grace…” she began, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn of conversation.
“I have to ask.” He met her gaze. “Out of curiosity. Nothing more.”
“Ask what, Your Grace?”
“Why Abernathy and not me?”
“You know the answer to that, Your Grace. Everyone who knows my father knows the answer. You don’t keep a kennel.”
“I’m not asking why your father refused me; I’m asking why you did.”
Alyssa sighed. “I have nothing against you, Your Grace. But I didn’t want to be a duchess. I wanted to be my own person, and duchesses are rarely allowed that freedom.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Don’t you?” she asked. “Because I would think that you of all people would understand.” Alyssa paused. “You’re perfect on paper, Your Grace. No one in her right mind would refuse a young, wealthy, handsome du
ke, but I didn’t want a perfect world that’s existed in much the same way for generations. I wanted a world I could perfect. For me. I didn’t want to fit a mold,” she explained. “I want to make one.” She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture her mother would frown upon, but one she’d come to associate with Griffin. “Lord Abernathy was willing to give me that opportunity and I—” she broke off as a carriage came up the drive.
Shielding her eyes with her hand, Alyssa strained to see who it might be.
Sussex ignored the approaching carriage. “You were saying…” he prompted.
But Alyssa wasn’t listening. “I’m not expecting anyone, unless it’s—”
“It’s Lady St. Germaine,” he told her.
Alyssa blinked up at him.
“It’s Lady Miranda St. Germaine, come to cheer you up and to act as chaperone.”
“How do you know?” she sputtered.
The duke took a deep breath and then exhaled. “I passed her carriage on the road yesterday. We stayed at the same coaching inn.”
“Together?” Alyssa was surprised.