* * *
They arrived at Abernathy Manor at half past three in the afternoon, after traveling through the night. Alyssa was bone weary, emotionally and physically exhausted. Although he tried hard not to show it, she suspected Griffin was even more so. She had only made the journey from the manor to London and back. He had traveled from Spain.
The staff was lined up to greet them, and Myrick drove the carriage up the circular drive to the front door. A footman opened the door and unfolded the steps, and Alyssa quickly alighted from the vehicle.
Griffin moved more slowly, gingerly flexing the muscles of his right leg before he grabbed his cane with his left hand and eased off his seat and out of the coach.
The staff cheered when they saw him, and Griffin did his best to smile through the pain as he greeted each member of the staff on his way into the house.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Keswick said.
“Good to see you again, sir,” Mrs. Lightsey echoed.
“Thank you,” Griff answered. “Thank you all.”
Griffin was nearly faint from fatigue and leaning very heavily on his cane when Alyssa turned to one of the footmen. “Please help His Grace up to the master suite. I’ll be up to tend his wounds as soon as I retrieve my supplies.”
Keswick dismissed the staff and turned to Alyssa. “Did I hear correctly, Lady Abernathy? Did you refer to Lord Abernathy as His Grace?”
She waited until the footman and Griffin were out of earshot and the rest of the staff had returned to their duties before she plopped down to sit on one of the lower steps of the grand staircase and confirmed her earlier statement. “Yes,” she answered. “His Grace Griffin Abernathy, first Duke of Avon. First Marquess of Abbingdon. Seventeenth Viscount Abernathy. Twenty-second Baron Maitland. We arrived in London as a viscount and viscountess, and we left a duke and duchess.”
“My word!” Keswick breathed.
“We’ll have to work hard to live up to that standard,” Alyssa teased. “For Haversham House is no longer the only ducal household in the county, and Sussex is no longer the only duke.”
Keswick sniffed. “We surpassed Haversham House’s standards the day you became Lady Abernathy.”
There were tears in her eyes as Alyssa looked up at the butler. “We’ve still got our work cut out for us,” she admitted. “For Lord Abernathy—I mean, His Grace—has suffered greatly in the earning of his new title.” She searched Keswick’s face. “Restoring his health won’t be a simple matter. I shall require your assistance and depend upon your discretion to keep the details from becoming common knowledge.”
“You can count on me, my lady—uh—” He turned red. “I beg your pardon. Your Grace.”
“It does take some getting used to,” she mused. “Ironic isn’t it?”
“What, Your Grace?”
“I chose to marry Viscount Abernathy in part because I didn’t want to be a duchess, because I didn’t want to be bothered by the silliness or the watchful eyes of the ton. And now, Griffin has become a national hero and a duke.”
“There will be no escaping the eyes of the ton now,” Keswick said. “But as a duchess, you have a certain power and freedom a viscountess cannot command.”
Alyssa massaged her temples with the tips of her fingers. “Let us hope so,” she said. “Because I fear I’m going to need all the power I can command in order to keep my husband.”
“Keep him?” Keswick was understandably puzzled.
Alyssa sighed. “You might as well know the truth, Keswick. His Grace is here against his will.”
“His Grace didn’t want to come home to Abernathy Manor?”
Alyssa shook her head. “His Grace didn’t want to come home to Abernathy Manor with me.”
Keswick released a heavy sigh. “It’s that Free Fellows League business, of course.”
Alyssa was surprised. “You know of the Free Fellows?”
“Yes, indeed,” Keswick replied. “From the time they formed it when Lord Abernathy was a little chap. He always wanted to be a cavalry officer and a national hero.”
“He succeeded.” Alyssa couldn’t keep the note of pride out of her voice. “Unfortunately for me.”
“The Free Fellows are completely loyal to one another and entirely honorable,” Keswick confided. “But that may work to your advantage—if you choose to fight to keep him.”
“How?” She wondered.
“He’ll be completely honorable and noble and act accordingly.” He faced the new duchess, gauging her mettle. “What are you prepared to do?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Then I’m prepared to assist you.”
Alyssa gave a rather unladylike snort. “Any advice?”
“Don’t be so bloody noble.” Keswick grinned. “Use every measure at your disposal. Fight dirty.”
Barely a Bride Page 55