“Alyssa, this has got to stop at once!”
Alyssa looked up from her task and found her mother standing in the doorway. “I cannot stop, Mama,” she said. “I’m in the process of bottling a batch of rosewater.”
Alyssa stood in a room off the kitchen before a massive worktable crafted of scarred oak beams where jellies, jams, and preserves as well as all the household cures and remedies were made. She held a heavy stockpot in her hand and was carefully straining a mass of pulpy rose petals through the cheesecloth covering a long-handled pot.
When the bottom container was nearly full of rose-scented liquid, Alyssa set the stockpot aside and lifted the corners of the cheesecloth, allowing the remaining puddle of liquid to flow through the cloth into the container. Alyssa tied the corners of the cheesecloth and dropped it back into the stockpot. She placed a funnel into the neck of the first of a row of empty wine bottles, then lifted the long-handled pot and began pouring the rosewater through the funnel and into the wine bottle. As the level rose in the neck of the bottle, Alyssa removed the funnel. She dropped a sprig of fresh lavender and two or three tiny rosebuds into the bottle as garnish, then corked it and set it at the far end of the table to cool.
Lady Tressingham stared in openmouthed amazement. “Where did you learn to do such a thing?”
“From a recipe book of medieval healing cures, tisanes, and poultices I found in the library at Tressingham Court.” Alyssa shrugged her shoulders. “I tried it and liked it and we’ve been using my rose, lavender, lemon, and chamomile waters here and at Tressingham Court ever since.”
Lady Tressingham pursed her lips in thought. The household had been laundering her delicate undergarments and linens in rosewater for years. She didn’t recall when it started and never remembered suggesting the idea to Mrs. Batsford, the housekeeper at Tressingham Court, but one day her laundry arrived smelling of roses, and it had continued to this day. She stared at her daughter. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Since shortly before my fourteenth birthday.”
“You’ve been making supplies of rosewater for both households since that date?”
“Well, I waited to see if you liked it. And when Mrs. B told me you adored the rose scent of your laundry, I decided to continue. I make the sachets you like, too.” She filled another bottle and corked it.
“Alone?” Lady Tressingham glanced around. “Where are all the kitchen and scullery maids? Why aren’t they doing it?”
“I sent them away,” Alyssa answered. “I work better alone.”
“You shouldn’t be working at all,” Lady Tressingham cried. “This is a job for the cook or the housekeeper or somebody…”
Alyssa shook her head. “Not at all. According to tradition, it’s your job.”
“Mine?” Lady Tressingham spat out the question as if she’d never heard a more ridiculous notion. “Impossible.”
“In the days of Henry the Eighth and Queen Elizabeth, the ladies of the house kept the herb garden and prepared all the lotions, potions, and remedies the household needed, in addition to their hours spent doing needlework.” Alyssa glanced up at her mother. “Since you don’t like to garden and appeared to have no interest in preparing the rosewater used on your linens and undergarments, I decided to make it.”
“I thought we purchased it,” Lady Tressingham admitted. “From a perfumer or a purveyor of toiletries.”
“I don’t make all the scented soaps or oils anymore,” Alyssa said. “Because they take a bit longer and require more work and I haven’t had as much time to devote to it since Amy, Addie, Anne, and I started preparing for our London seasons. But I still make all of the scented waters and sachets we use.”
Lady Tressingham sniffed the air. “It does smell divine.”
“It’s your favorite blend,” Alyssa told her. “The flowers in the garden aren’t just to admire or to cut and arrange in vases; they’re used in many other ways.”
“That may be so, but the fact remains that you are not the lady of the house or the person charged with this responsibility.”
“Why not?” Alyssa demanded. “I’m the person who started it, and I’m the person best suited for the task.”
“Because while you may live here, this is not your house or your responsibility. It’s mine. And Mrs. Warrick came to me with a bevy of complaints about your presence in the kitchen and your constant meddling with the household staff and chores.”
“I’m not meddling, Mama. I’m simply making note of the way things are done to see if there might be a more efficient way of doing it.” Alyssa filled another bottle with rosewater, dropped several tiny rosebuds into the liquid, then corked the bottle and set it aside to cool with the others. “Did you know that Mrs. Warrick has the maids fold and store the bed linens in the same manner every time? While Mrs. Batsford at Tressingham Court instructs the maids in different methods of folding and insists that the linens stored in the cupboard be rotated and refolded once every month to prevent wear at the fold lines.
“Mrs. Reynolds, the Earl and Countess of Albemarle’s housekeeper, rotates the linen cupboards every three months, and Mrs. Bingham, the Duchess of Kerry’s housekeeper, doesn’t rotate the linens at all. She replaces them every year.”
Lady Tressingham nearly screamed in exasperation. “I don’t care how the neighbors’ housekeepers’ care for their linens. I only care about mine. And that means keeping my housekeeper contented. You cannot continue to harass her with your endless questions about her methods of operation and suggestions for improvement.”
Alyssa slid another bottle of rosewater down the table and carefully lined it up alongside the others. “I haven’t been harassing Mrs. Warrick.”
“You’ve been questioning her ability and her methods,” Lady Tressingham said. “She is the housekeeper, and you are only an unmarried daughter of the house. Mrs. Warrick feels your criticism is unwarranted. Nor does she appreciate your going behind her back and interviewing the neighboring housekeepers about their methods of doing things. She feels that doing so casts a poor light on her abilities. And so, for that matter, do I.”
“I haven’t criticized Mrs. Warrick’s methods or her abilities. Nor have I gone behind her back. I told Mrs. Warrick that I had asked Durham to help me gather information from the neighboring households, so that we might compare notes. And I offered helpful suggestions based on those notes.”
“She doesn’t need your suggestions, Alyssa. Helpful or otherwise. Mrs. Warrick has been in service all her life. She knows how to run a household.”
“She’s been in service to our family all of her life,” Alyssa pointed out. “She knows how to run a Carrollton household. But that doesn’t mean it’s being run as efficiently as it could be. There are always better ways of doing things, and it’s our responsibility to learn them and to incorporate them in our daily lives.”
Lady Tressingham heaved another dramatic sigh. Sometimes she wondered if she had actually given birth to Alyssa or if the midwife had somehow switched her child for the wet nurse’s. The midwife had recommended the wet nurse, after all. It was true that Alyssa excelled in the ladylike arts of language and sketching and watercolors, of needlework, and playing the pianoforte, but she had an unfortunate curiosity about and a penchant for performing domestic work. “I cannot believe that in the space of a day or so, you have managed to graduate from pestering the outdoor staff to harassing the indoor staff with your endless questions and suggestions.”
“How else can I compare methods and decide upon the most efficient ones?”
“Why should you want to do so?” Lady Tressingham countered sharply. “At least until you’re married with a home of your own. Then you may interrogate every housekeeper in England if you like, so long as you cease interrogating mine.”
Alyssa sighed. Finding a suitable husband and waiting until she was married with a home of her own was her mother’s answer for everything.
“I know you don’t agree, Mama, but in my own way, I have
been preparing to manage a home of my own.” Lady Tressingham’s face softened, and she smiled at her youngest and most stubborn of daughters. “I know that, my darling, but you’ve concentrated all of your attention on preparing to manage a home once you’re married. You’ve done very little preparation and given very little attention to the business of finding the man who will marry you and provide you with a home and a staff of your own.”
“I did manage to become an Incomparable,” Alyssa reminded her mother.
Lady Tressingham narrowed her gaze at Alyssa. “You did what was expected of you. Fortunately, your sisters and I laid the groundwork for you to build upon. Your accomplishment in becoming an Incomparable was as much mine and your sisters’ doing as yours,” she said. “Had I not been so diligent and had your sisters not made such brilliant matches, you might not have received your voucher to Almack’s or been accepted by the ton.”
“But I did receive my voucher,” Alyssa retorted, “and I’ve managed to acquire a few suitors along the way.”
“That you have.” Lady Tressingham smiled. “And the most important one will soon pay a call on your father. If things go as expected during their interview, you should be married before the season is over.”
Alyssa let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Griffin Abernathy had said he would call, and she believed him because he was a man of his word. Still, the waiting had kept Alyssa on pins and needles all morning. There had been no word of his arrival, and the hours she’d spent at her bedroom window had all been for naught.
Her bedroom faced the rear of the house overlooking the gardens. She’d chosen it for precisely that reason, but at the time she’d chosen it, Alyssa hadn’t realized that she would, one day, need a view of the front entrance or the stables. As a result of her unfortunate choice of rooms, she hadn’t witnessed the viscount’s arrival or his departure, and no one had seen fit to inform her.
After waiting for what seemed like hours for someone to tell her that Viscount Abernathy had called for her, she’d managed to occupy her time by interviewing Mrs. Warrick and conducting an inventory of the linen cupboards.
The inventory had yielded the discovery that the Tressinghams’ London residence was dangerously low on the rosewater used to rinse Lady Tressingham’s linens. Alyssa had leaped at the opportunity to do something about it and had quickly taken charge of the task of replenishing the supply.
After sending word to the gardeners instructing them to gather a supply of rose petals along with a few rosebuds and fresh lavender from the garden, Alyssa selected the items she needed, ordered the stockpot she customarily used filled with water and set to boil, and prepared a work space at the massive table in the room off the kitchen. Once the basket of rose petals arrived, Alyssa began the process of making bottles of rosewater.
She poured the last of the liquid from the pot into a bottle, then set the pot aside and corked and labeled the final bottle. Satisfied, she surveyed the fruits of her labor. Twenty-six bottles. That wouldn’t be enough to last to the end of the season, but it would do until there were enough rose petals from the garden to make another batch.
But now that her task was done, Alyssa desperately needed something else to do. Something else to occupy her mind as well as her hands. Why was it that daughters were the last to know what their future held in store? There must be something else she could do. Something the housekeeper wouldn’t object to.
Perhaps she could inventory the supply of beeswax candles on hand or make out the menu of refreshments to be served during the remainder of the season’s morning calls. Surely, Mrs. Warrick wouldn’t object to that.
Alyssa sighed. She knew her mother and the London housekeeper wished she were more like her older sisters. Amy, Adelaide, and Anne were all quiet, unassuming beauties that didn’t question their places in the world.
But Alyssa was different. She had always yearned to make the world a better place for the people she loved. She couldn’t sit and embroider and make polite conversation with her sisters and the other ladies who came to call, not when she knew there were so many other more important things that needed to be done. She had learned early on that she was a doer. She was a person who needed to be needed but who also needed to be up and about and doing the things she felt she should do.
And today, she felt she needed to keep busy so she wouldn’t have to worry about the outcome of Griffin Abernathy’s interview with her father.
“Your sisters have all married well, but as a duchess, you shall best them all.”
Her mother’s words interrupted her thoughts. Alyssa frowned. “Duchess?”
“Of Sussex, no less. I told you, Her Grace and I have had an understanding for years.” Lady Tressingham’s voice quivered with excitement. “She assured me that His Grace would pay your father a call. I can hardly believe our good fortune. It’s too good to be true.”
Alyssa fervently hoped her mother was right. She hoped becoming the Duchess of Sussex was too good to be true. Was it possible? Had Lord Abernathy broken his word? Had he changed his mind about offering for her?
“His Grace paid a call on Papa?”
Lady Tressingham frowned. “Not yet. But he will. Imagine, my daughter the duchess.”
Alyssa couldn’t imagine it. Not after kissing Griffin Abernathy at Almack’s. And she hoped she never had to.
“Has Papa had any other visitors today?” Alyssa tried to sound nonchalant, but her mother wasn’t fooled.
Lady Tressingham drew her brows together in a wrinkle-inducing frown she ordinarily avoided at all costs. “Yes, he has” she answered. “Lord Linton and the young viscount. But, Alyssa, you must know that His Grace is the only suitor your father and I will consider. I doubt your father wasted any time sending Lord Linton and Lord Abernathy packing.”
“Are you certain?”
“I know he sent Lord Linton home disappointed,” her mother answered. “And he was about to dispense with Lord Abernathy.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. You’ve a wonderful future as duchess ahead of you.”
“I had hoped—”
“For more suitors?” Lady Tressingham interrupted. “Of course, you did. All Incomparables do. But in this case, it isn’t the quantity of suitors that matters, it’s the quality. You’ve garnered proposals from two members of the ton in one morning. That is quite an accomplishment.”
“Mama, you don’t understand—” Alyssa began.
Again her mother cut her off. “Of course I understand. I was young once. But you mustn’t read more into it than there is. The men who have offered for you are all honorable gentlemen from old and noble families, but everyone knows Lord Linton has shallow pockets and is looking to marry an heiress with deep ones. And as for Lord Abernathy… Well.” She sighed. “Lord Abernathy would be the undisputed catch of the season if we didn’t have an understanding with His Grace.”
“Is it set?” Alyssa asked. “Has Papa accepted an offer from His Grace?”
Lady Tressingham bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know if the details have all been ironed out. But I know your father sent for his solicitor some time ago.” She exhaled. “I haven’t spoken to him about His Grace’s offer thus far because your father was still closeted with Lord Abernathy when I came looking for you.”
Alyssa let out a breath. “Then there’s still hope.”
“Hope?” Lady Tressingham was surprised. “For what?”
“That Lord Abernathy will prevail.”
“Lord Abernathy?” Lady Tressingham’s voice rose. “I don’t want Lord Abernathy to prevail!”
“I do.”
Her mother looked appalled. “You would choose to be a mere viscountess rather than a duchess?”
“I would choose Lord Abernathy over His Grace,” Alyssa said.
Lady Tressingham blinked, momentarily speechless. “A viscountess.” She shook her head. “You have obviously taken leave of your senses. Why? What have you aga
inst His Grace?”
“I’ve nothing against His Grace,” Alyssa told her. “I’ve yet to be introduced to him.”
Lady Tressingham grimaced. “You saw him from across the room. He was making his way toward us when Lady Cowper appeared with Abernathy.”
“I saw him,” Alyssa said. “I didn’t speak to him.”
“No,” Lady Tressingham confirmed. “Because you were too busy dancing with Lord Abernathy. Egads! But there is no comparison, my darling. Sussex is divine. Abernathy is merely handsome.”
“In your opinion, Mama.” Alyssa met her mother’s disapproving gaze without flinching. “I think otherwise. I think Lord Abernathy is divine and His Grace merely handsome. Besides, I’ve no wish to be the Duchess of Sussex.”
“I don’t believe it!” Lady Tressingham threw up her arms in a gesture of dismay, often used with great success in operas and ballets. “I know you’ve very little experience mixing in the highest circles, but that’s nothing to be afraid of. You’ll become accustomed to having people bow and address you as Your Grace in no time.”
“No, I won’t,” Alyssa protested.
“No matter.” Lady Tressingham dismissed Alyssa’s refusal. “The duke will help you settle in. As your husband, he’ll smooth the way for you and see that you learn all you need to know.”
“His Grace will have to find someone else to help settle in as Her Grace. I won’t need it. Because I don’t intend to become his duchess.”
“Whether you intend to become the Duchess of Sussex or not is of little consequence at this juncture,” her mother told her. “Because your father and I intend it for you. Believe me, Alyssa, once you get used to the idea, you’ll thank us for attending to your best interests.”
“I’m not going to be the Duchess of Sussex,” Alyssa said firmly. “I’m going to be Viscountess Abernathy.”
Lady Tressingham’s laugh was sharp and mirthless. “While it’s apparent that Lord Abernathy did his best to sweep you off your feet during your illicit waltz last evening, it’s best that you forget about him. I’m quite certain that your father has sent him packing by now.”
“Don’t underestimate Lord Abernathy, Mama,” Alyssa warned. “He asked me to marry him last night, and I don’t believe he’ll be as easy for Papa to dismiss as you seem to think.”
Lady Tressingham gasped. “He should know better than to propose to you without first asking your father.”
“Of course, he knows better. But that didn’t stop him from asking me.”
“You refused, of course.”
Alyssa shook her head. “I accepted.”
“No matter,” her mother declared. “You’re a female. You cannot marry without your father’s permission. And your father will not grant Lord Abernathy permission to marry you. I’ve chosen Sussex for you. Your father understands the benefits of allying our family with His Grace’s. He won’t disappoint me.”
Alyssa looked her mother in the eye. “I would like to think that for once Papa wouldn’t disappoint me. “
“I wouldn’t count on it, my dear.”
“Then I’ll count on Lord Abernathy. He’ll find a way to keep his promise.”
Chapter Eleven
“I have made a formidable enemy in my future mother-in-law. She wanted Sussex for her daughter. As a viscount, I will never measure up.”
—Griffin, Viscount Abernathy, journal entry, 26 April 1810