Barely a Bride

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

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.

  Sixteen seamstresses had worked nearly around the clock to make her attendants’ gowns, and another sixteen, their assistants, glovers, milliners, and cobblers had worked just as hard to fashion the gifts for the lady’s maids, each of whom were given complete ensembles of the latest style as a gift from the bride and groom.

  Alyssa’s gown had been the easiest to prepare. It had required little more than a pressing and the addition of the lace veil and wreath of orange blossoms. As she glanced at her reflection in the full-length mirror, Alyssa thought that a darker color might have been more flattering for her light brown hair and blue eyes, but debutantes were forbidden from wearing more dramatic colors until after their presentation at court.

  Alyssa had already made her curtsy to Queen Charlotte and to the Prince of Wales, who was acting in his father’s stead, but in choosing to wear her second court gown, she had limited herself to white. This one, made from a heavier satin fabric for warmth, had been hanging in her armoire unworn, and Alyssa saw no reason to waste it. It was, in her opinion, a perfectly practical choice for a wedding gown.

  She had dispensed with the necessity for a bridal trousseau since she had yet to wear over half of this season’s wardrobe. Her only concession had been to allow the seamstresses to fashion three sets of bridal lingerie—a set for each of the three nights she would spend in Griffin’s bed.

  Alyssa was nothing, if not practical.

  On Monday morning, her husband would leave to join his regiment. There would be no need for an expensive trousseau or the dozens of articles of intimate apparel one usually contained.

  She would be alone at Abernathy Manor once Griffin left for the Peninsula, and since her goal was to restore the house and the grounds to their previous splendor, her current wardrobe would suffice.

  Once she had decided on her wedding attire and saw to the completion of her attendants’ gowns, Alyssa concentrated her attention on the details of the wedding breakfast—providing the food, drinks, flowers, and gifts for two hundred guests.

  Alyssa had given everything one final check before she’d begun dressing for the wedding. Elegantly decorated buffet tables lined the perimeter of the ballroom in the Tressinghams’ town house, and smaller tables, set with crystal and silver, were placed about the room, and all of the rooms adjoining the ballroom had been opened up. The adjoining rooms had been decorated to match the ballroom; the furniture in each had been removed, and the carpets had been rolled up and stored, and additional tables, set with more silver and crystal, placed there to accommodate the crush.

  All in all, she was pleased with her efforts.

  The Prince of Wales’s pastry chef and confectioner had crafted a four-foot-high wedding cake frosted in white and decorated with sugared roses and topped with orange blossoms. It was joined by another cake frosted in chocolate and decorated with candied fruit, fresh mint sprigs, and chocolate shavings. Separating the two cakes was a massive ice sculpture of a bride and groom framed beneath an arch bearing a viscount’s coronet, its single row of pearls clearly visible.

  The ice sculpture of the bride and groom had been Alyssa’s idea. Having them stand beneath an arch bearing a viscount’s coronet had, of course, been her mother’s. Alyssa suspected it was her mother’s way of reminding the ton—and perhaps, Griffin—that the most spectacular wedding of the season, thus far, had been that of a mere viscount.

  Gunter’s, the confectioner in Berkeley Square, was providing the wedding breakfast. It consisted of cold meats, chicken, fish, ham, roast beef and lamb, prawns and lobster salad, as well as oysters and tongue, a hot and cold soup, truffles, candied fruits, jellies, raisins, dates, and pastries and biscuits of every form and filling laid out on tables covered with snowy white tablecloths and trimmed with pale green satin ribbons. On the end of each of the tables were silver urns of tea and coffee, and at the other end were flavored ices.

  Sugared pomegranates, whole oranges dusted with sugar and cinnamon, and bouquets of orange blossoms decorated each table. Alyssa had arranged each one and chosen the green satin ribbon. The yards of ribbon were an extravagance, but Alyssa used them anyway. She tied the bouquets of cascading roses and lilies her bridesmaids carried with the colored ribbons and draped more ribbon around the buffet tables, fashioning lavish bows at the corners of each table.

  And Alyssa, her bridesmaids, mother, and future mother-in-law had tied satin ribbons around each of two hundred tiny engraved silver saltcellars to be presented to each guest as a memento of the wedding.

  She would have preferred more personal gifts, but engraved silve
r saltcellars were the current rage among the ton, and Lady Tressingham had her heart set on presenting them as gifts. Alyssa had agreed, partly because her mother had worked so hard in helping her with the wedding preparations and partly because her mother enjoyed the novelty of being the mother of the first bride to present such fashionable wedding mementos.

  On the eve of the wedding, as was the custom, Lord and Lady Weymouth had hosted a dinner for the wedding party.

  Griffin used the occasion to present each of Alyssa’s bridesmaids and his groomsmen with gifts. He gave the ladies heart-shaped diamond pendants on delicate gold chains to wear with their bridesmaids’ gowns, and he gifted his groomsmen with silver flasks engraved with their coats of arms and provided his father with the coin to present to the clergymen, the clerk, the pew opener, and the choir.

  The gifts for the household staff and the wedding guests would be presented at the conclusion of the wedding breakfast. Alyssa had chosen to give each of the female staff members lace shawls, kid gloves, or handkerchiefs, depending upon their service. The housekeepers of each household were to receive silver chatelaines, and the cooks of each household, silver lockets. The exception being Alyssa’s lady’s maid and the lady’s maids of the other women, who all received a complete ensemble in the latest style. Each of the butlers of the eight households would be given gold watches, and the footmen and grooms would receive kid gloves and cash.

  Alyssa smothered a yawn, then pulled on her gloves. She hadn’t had more than two or three hours of sleep a night in over a week. Her days had been filled with rounds of “at homes” and bridal fetes and the myriad details of planning the wedding, and her nights had been spent attending the balls, musicales, soirees, and midnight suppers to which she and Griffin had been invited. Lady Weymouth had insisted on an early evening for last night’s supper for the wedding party. She had called an end to it at eleven, for which Alyssa was grateful because she had been up since five.

  Her wedding day was no different. Alyssa had, once again, rolled out of bed at five to put the finishing touches on the decorations and to oversee the setting of the tables. She was weary. Tired to the bone. And elated. All at the same time.

  She’d done it. She had managed to put together a wedding in which her family and Griffin’s could take pride in less than seven days. And she hadn’t forgotten about the members of the household staffs who had worked so hard to make it possible.

  Once the wedding breakfast ended, every member of all the household staffs would have the afternoon and evening and the next two days off with full pay.

  The Earls of Tressingham, Weymouth, Brookestone, Garrison, and Hastings, and the Marquess of Shepherdston and their families and houseguests, were going to have to fend for themselves until Monday morning.

  And no one seemed to mind, because everyone Alyssa had talked to planned to use their days off to catch up on their sleep.

  Only the staff of Abernathy Manor was excluded, and that was because Lord and Lady Abernathy would be honeymooning there.

  “It’s time, Alyssa.”

  Alyssa turned from the mirror to find Lady Miranda Saint Germaine holding a huge bouquet of roses and daisies tied with white satin ribbons and her own bouquet of cascading roses and lilies.

  “Your sisters have already lined up to start the walk down the aisle,” Miranda told her. “It’s time for us to follow.”

  “I’m almost ready,” Alyssa told her.

  “Griffin asked me to give you these.” Lady Miranda set her bouquet aside before untying a soft white leather pouch from around Alyssa’s bouquet. Smiling, she handed the pouch to Alyssa. “A present from the groom. Could it be the famous Abernathy family jewels?”

  Alyssa frowned. “I hope not,” she admitted, “because everyone will expect me to wear them, and Lady Weymouth says they are hideously large and gaudy.”

  “Then, don’t keep us in suspense,” Miranda urged. “Open it.”

  Alyssa untied the strings and opened the pouch. “Oh! Miranda, look!” She pulled out a strand of perfectly matched pearls crowned with a brilliant pendant of amethysts and peridots. Along with the necklace was a matching bracelet and a matching pair of earrings.

  Alyssa held the jewelry so Miranda could see it.

  “They’re beautiful,” Miranda breathed.

  “The gems match the stones in my betrothal ring.” She smiled. “And the pearls match those sewn onto my wedding dress.”

  “Then you’ll want to wear these.”

  “Of course.” Reaching up, Alyssa began fumbling with the clasp of the cameo locket she’d worn to complement her dress.

  “Let me help you,” Miranda said. “Turn around.”

  Alyssa did as she asked, and Miranda quickly unhooked the cameo locket and replaced it with the strand of pearls.

  When she finished fastening the pearl necklace around Alyssa’s neck, Miranda clasped the bracelet over Alyssa’s gloved right wrist and replaced Alyssa’s tiny cameo earrings with Griffin’s gift.

  “You look beautiful,” Miranda murmured, handing Alyssa her bouquet of flowers. “Just the way a bride should look.”

  “Thank you,” Alyssa replied. “So do you.”

  Lady Miranda glanced at her reflection in the mirror. The mint green color of her dress was most becoming. It complemented her light auburn hair, the green of her eyes, and her flawless ivory complexion. In it, Miranda felt almost beautiful. Or as close to beautiful as one could feel when one stood a hair under six feet tall in one’s stocking feet and would never possess the small rounded bosom, the slim hips, or twenty-inch waist currently in vogue.

  Miranda shook her head. “I’ll never be anyone’s idea of the beautiful bride. I’m too big and tomboyish for that.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m destined to be everyone’s favorite bridesmaid and nobody’s chosen bride.”

  Alyssa’s mouth dropped open. Was it possible that Miranda didn’t know how truly lovely she was? “I think that one day soon, you’ll make someone a beautiful bride.”

  Miranda gave Alyssa an affectionate hug. “Let’s make you a beautiful bride first,” she teased. “We’ll work on making me one after you’re married.”

  “Agreed,” Alyssa said.

  “Good,” Miranda answered, reaching for her own bouquet. “Now, let’s go. Your groom is waiting.”

  Miranda led the way out of the antechamber and into the church sanctuary.

  Alyssa followed, grasping her father’s elbow and taking her place at the back of the line as the choir began to sing Alyssa’s favorite wedding chorale by Handel.

  Griffin turned and looked down the aisle as the final note of the chorus faded away. His first glimpse of Alyssa took his breath away. She radiated beauty and serenity. Griffin waited until her father stepped aside, then moved into place at Alyssa’s side and took her hand in his. Smiling down at Alyssa, unable to take his gaze away from her face, Griff nodded to the bishop.

  The bishop cleared his throat and began the service. As he listened to the bishop, Griff’s thoughts turned to his bride. Although he’d despaired at relinquishing his Free Fellows status and being forced to marry when his father forced the issue, Griff decided that he had chosen well. In addition to being lovely, Alyssa had proven herself to be an extraordinary woman. She’d managed to create a miracle wedding, and he had yet to hear her utter a single word of complaint. Griff glanced heavenward and said a silent prayer of thanks for the spark of attraction that had flared the first time he’d seen her and for his good judgment in recognizing it.

  “Griffin Abernathy, seventeenth Viscount Abernathy and twenty-second Baron Maitland, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  “I will.” Griff’s answer was strong and firm.

  He smiled at her, and Alyssa recognized the steady
light of confidence that seemed to glow in the depths of his blue eyes. Griffin had just promised to love her. The fact that he did so in such a strong and firm tone of voice took her by surprise. She knew he didn’t love her. She knew he didn’t want to marry her or anyone else. She had heard him say so. She had heard him affirm his loyalty to the Free Fellows League. Whatever that was. But his manner and his certain answer said something else entirely.

  He had been the perfect companion for the past few days, escorting her to myriad parties and socials and enduring the company of countless grand dames of the ton. He had listened to hours of endless conversation about the wedding and had tolerated a thousand interruptions to his daily routine in order to accommodate her requests and offer assistance. He had trusted her judgment and allowed her to make the decisions, patiently staying out of the way until he was called upon to help smooth the way with his name and his reputation, enlisting his staff and his friend’s staff to help without uttering a single word of complaint in her hearing.

  Alyssa smiled at him. He didn’t love her, nor had he wanted to marry, but he was making certain that everyone within earshot thought that he did. He might never grow to love her or feel affection for her, but he had given himself to her before God and witnesses. He was hers for the keeping, and Alyssa intended to make him proud.

  “Lady Alyssa Carrollton, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  She wasn’t completely certain she would always obey him, but Alyssa promised to try. She looked up at Griffin and answered just as strongly and firmly as he had done: “I will.”

  Alyssa listened as Griffin repeated his vows and she repeated hers in kind until the bishop paused.

  “It’s time for the ring,” he prompted.

  Lord Weymouth handed his son a gold wedding band.

  Griffin waited as Alyssa removed her gloves and handed them to her maid of honor.

  Griff took Alyssa’s left hand. “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen,” he repeated, sliding the slim gold band onto her ring finger. When the wedding band was in place, Griff gently pulled her betrothal ring from her middle finger, where she’d moved it before the ceremony, and slid it alongside.

  The slim band and the amethyst and peridot betrothal ring matched perfectly, and Alyssa stood admiring them before she closed her eyes and bowed her head in prayer.

  “Alyssa?”

  She hadn’t realized the prayer was over until Griffin said her name.

  “You can open your eyes, now.” She heard the teasing note in his voice. “The worst of it’s over. We’re done, except for the signing of the register.”

  She looked up.

  Griffin blew out a little sigh of relief. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded.

  “All right, let’s go.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her down the aisle to the vestibule to sign the parish registry.

  He signed his name with a flourish and handed her the pen: Alyssa Abernathy. She halted the pen in mid-motion, and Griff leaned over her shoulder and whispered, “Viscountess Abernathy and Baroness Maitland.”

  She gave him a grateful smile.

  “We’ve done it,” Griffin said.

  Yes, they had done it. For better or for worse, they were husband and wife.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “The wedding went off without a hitch. I’m amazed that Alyssa managed to accomplish so much in so little time. I hope I shall be as fortunate when I begin my journey to join my regiment.”—Griffin, Viscount Abernathy, journal entry, 04 May 1810