* * *
“I’m impressed,” Griff said softly, stealing up behind Alyssa in the receiving line at Lady Harralson’s and leaning close.
It had been nearly an hour since they arrived, and Griff had had the devil’s own time keeping track of her in the crowd.
Lady Tressingham had stepped down from the carriage, grabbed her daughter by the hand, and whisked Alyssa out of the carriage and into the crush of arrivals. Griff, waylaid by several acquaintances, barely managed to catch up.
“With what?” Alyssa turned slightly and looked up at the underside of his jaw. She leaned back against his shirtfront, enjoying the novelty of being surrounded by his strength and his warmth.
“With you,” he whispered. “And the way you handled your mother.”
She shivered as his warm breath tickled her ear.
“Cold?” he asked, placing his hands on the flesh of her upper arms left exposed by her evening gloves and her sleeveless gown.
She shook her head. It was impossible to be cold, surrounded as she was by so much heat, but to her delight, Griff kept his hands where they were, increasing the soothing friction. “The trick to handling my mother is to take charge of the situation before she does,” she told him. “And you were doing an excellent job of it when I joined the two of you downstairs.”
“You heard that?” He felt the color rise in his neck, felt the heat of it in the tips of his ears.
“Not all of it,” Alyssa said. “But enough to know that the two of you have reached an understanding.” She nodded toward a group of chattering women.
Griff glanced over to where Lady Tressingham stood holding court among a group of her society friends. “Our understanding is that your mother hates me.”
Alyssa giggled. “She doesn’t hate you, Griffin. She just dislikes you—a lot.”
“I like the sound of that,” he murmured.
“What? The fact that my mother doesn’t hate you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I like the sound of my Christian name on your lips. And I like the sound of your laughter, Alyssa.”
“So do I.” She smiled. “I like the sound of my Christian name on your lips.”
“That’s good,” he teased, “because I’ve called you by your Christian name since we were introduced, my lady.”
“I like it better when you don’t put the title of lady in front of it, my lord.”
Griff gently tightened his grip on Alyssa’s upper arms. “Did I remember to tell you that you look beautiful tonight?”
“No, but I thank you all the same.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And I apologize for failing to tell you sooner.”
“There is no need for you to apologize, Griffin. Compliments are never late.”
Griffin didn’t have to see her face to know Alyssa was smiling. He reached down and lifted the dance card hanging from a silver cord looped around her wrist. Opening the card, he squinted at the names penciled in beside the list of scheduled dances. “I don’t see a partner for the next dance.”
“No,” she replied, “I’m free.”
“That’s not entirely true,” he reminded her. “I believe we established that fact this afternoon.”
“I’m free for the next dance.” Her voice became low and husky. “If you need a partner…”
Griff stepped up beside her and offered Alyssa his arm. “I would very much like to dance with you, my lady, but there is someone I would like you to meet first.”
Alyssa tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “I’ve already met our hostess.”
“Have you met Lord and Lady Weymouth yet?”
“No, I…” She shook her head. “Lord and Lady Weymouth… You mean…”
He nodded. “My mother and father. They braved the crush here tonight in order to meet you.”
Alyssa inhaled sharply, then smoothed the front of her ball gown and touched her hair. She glanced around for a mirror and, failing to find one, turned to Griffin instead. “Do I look all right?”
Griffin laughed. “Fishing for more compliments, my lady?”
“Just reassurance,” she answered honestly.
“Then rest assured that you look as beautiful now as you did a few moments ago.” He looked down at her. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“It isn’t every day that one meets one’s future in-laws.”
“Thank God!” Griffin breathed. “Once is enough.” He made a face at her.
Alyssa laughed.
“Just be yourself,” he advised, “and my parents will adore you.”
“What about you?” Alyssa couldn’t believe she’d spoken her thoughts aloud.
“I already adore you,” he answered smoothly, flashing her his most winning smile.
A smile that looked more convincing than it felt. Alyssa lifted her chin a notch higher and pasted a smile on her face. What did she expect? She’d put him on the spot and asked him to declare his feelings. He’d traded a prized breeding stallion and the rights to his father’s stables and kennels to her father in order to gain consent to marry her. She’d been sold for a horse and a litter of puppies. What could she expect? That he really did adore her?
If only that were true.
Alyssa did her best to follow Griff’s advice, but she couldn’t quite conceal her nervousness as Griffin escorted her through the crowd and across the room to where the Earl and Countess of Weymouth sat talking to each other.
“Father, Mother, may I introduce you to Lady Alyssa Carrollton?” Griff made the introductions. “Alyssa, may I present my parents, the Earl and Countess of Weymouth?”
Alyssa sank down into a perfect curtsy. “A pleasure to meet you, ma’am, sir.”
“The pleasure is ours, my dear.” Lord Weymouth stood up and helped his wife to her feet, then assisted Alyssa as she rose from her curtsy.
Lady Weymouth leaned forward and kissed Alyssa on both cheeks in the Continental fashion. “We’re delighted to meet you, my dear.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Lady Weymouth glanced at her husband and son. “Would you two mind fetching us some champagne?”
Recognizing a dismissal when he heard it, Griffin looked to Alyssa for confirmation that she was comfortable spending a few moments alone with his mother.
Alyssa nodded. “That would be nice. Thank you, Lady Weymouth, for suggesting it.”
Lady Weymouth glanced pointedly at her husband and son once again. “Run along, my dears. Lady Alyssa and I are going to have a little chat.” Lady Weymouth waited until the men left, then turned and patted the arm of the chair Lord Weymouth had vacated, gesturing for Alyssa to sit. “First things first,” Lady Weymouth said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m simply dying to see it.” She sat down beside Alyssa and leaned close. “When you get to know me better, you’ll learn that I have a sense of curiosity equal to that of a schoolroom full of excitable little boys.” She sighed. “It can be a nuisance, but…” She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture Alyssa was beginning to associate with her son. “I know your engagement isn’t public yet and that you’ shouldn’t be showing it about, but may I see your ring?”
Alyssa beamed. “Yes, of course.” Extending her left arm, she unbuttoned her opera-length glove. Alyssa tugged the glove down her arm and off her hand. She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, admiring the unique design of her betrothal ring and the way the light sparkled off the amethysts, peridots, and diamonds. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Lady Weymouth was as enchanted with the ring as its owner. “It’s perfectly lovely.” She lifted Alyssa’s hand and studied the ring. “It looks to be one of Mr. Dalrymple’s designs. You’re fortunate. This ring is ever so much prettier than the bird egg.”
“The bird egg?”
Lady Weymouth laughed. “The Abernathy betrothal ring. I call it the bird egg because it’s a big canary yellow diamond set in a chunk of heavy gold. It’s all anyone talks about when they talk about betrothal rings. It’s wo
rth a fortune, but good heavens! It’s so big and gaudy.” She looked at Alyssa. “You wouldn’t think anyone could make a priceless diamond so unattractive, but there you have it…” She shuddered in distaste. “It’s part of a set you’ll receive as a portion of your wedding settlement. And when you get it, thank your lucky stars that, unlike his Great-grandfather Abernathy, my son has exquisite taste in jewelry and in his choice of a bride.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Alyssa murmured.
“You’re welcome, my dear.” Lady Tressingham smiled at her future daughter-in-law. “I know you haven’t much time to prepare for a wedding, so tell me, what can I do to help?”
“Well,” Alyssa began, “I only had two hours in which to work after I learned I was to marry your son. He says we should invite two hundred for the wedding so, I’ve begun making lists and organizing…”
Chapter Fourteen
“My second test of endurance is about to begin—the meeting with my fellow Free Fellows at White’s.”
—Griffin, Lord Abernathy, journal entry, 26 April 1810