Barely a Bride

by Rebecca Hagan Lee

He was gone when she awoke.

  She slipped out of the conservatory and tiptoed up to the master suite to dress. She met Keswick as she was coming down the stairs.

  “Where is His Grace?” She asked.

  “He left,” Keswick answered.

  “He left?”

  The butler nodded. “He left instructions that you were not to be disturbed and ordered the coach brought around while I helped him dress. I am sorry, Your Grace, but His Grace has returned to London.”

  She looked stricken by the news, and Keswick pulled a letter from his coat pocket and handed it to her, then stepped aside to give her the privacy in which to read it.

  My Dear Alyssa,

  I shall always be grateful for the time we have shared and for the solace you offered me in my time of need, but I must set you free so that you might choose a man worthy of you.

  I promised myself, in Spain, that I would not force my affections on you or interfere in your life in any way. Nor would I expect that you would return my affections or grant me further license to get my heir upon you.

  But I have broken that promise this day. As it seems that I have no strength of will where you are concerned, I am removing myself from temptation.

  If you should find a month from today that you are with child, you may reach me at my town house in London. If that is not the case, you may rest assured that I will refrain from settling my affections on you in the future—unless you desire them.

  Alyssa finished reading the letter, and then crumpled it in her fist. “Unless I desire them,” she murmured. “Of course I desire them. I thought I made that perfectly clear.” Alyssa stamped her foot in frustration. “That fool! That pigheaded, noble, idiotic fool!”

  “Your Grace?”

  She looked up at Keswick. “He’s setting me free again so that I might choose a man worthy of me.” She rolled her eyes. “As if there was a man more worthy than Griffin.” She sighed. “But I suppose I should give him back what he seems to crave: his Free Fellow status.”

  Keswick cocked an eyebrow. “Are you certain, Your Grace?”

  “Most assuredly.”