Chapter Three

In Which the Importance of Family cannot be Overstated

Garrett stared at his mother as she walked toward him, hands outstretched.

“Darling, here you are. How fortuitous. It’s almost as if you knew I was coming.” She kissed his cheek and chuckled. “I always said you had some of your grandfather’s abilities, you know.”

“I remember. I also remember telling you more than once that I was not in any way possessed of psychical gifts.”

“Hmm. A mother knows these things.”

He kissed her back, giving up the battle. “Of course. Mothers know everything.” He took her arm and linked it with his, heading up the steps of Myrtle Manor. “So, what brings you here? I thought you were going to be busy for a month or so with Aunt Marguerite on the south coast…”

She sighed. “Well, it was nice for a bit, but then your aunt went out on a fishing trip, and…”

“Dear God, she fell overboard? No wait, don’t tell me she caught a fish ?” His eyes widened at the thought of his delicate and elegantly feminine aunt handling a slippery catch on the end of a rod.

“No. She caught the fisherman.”

Garrett blinked, then burst out laughing. “Oh, good Lord.”

“So, finding myself rather de trop , I thought I would make my way back to Belcaster, but perhaps drop in on people I knew along the journey.” She hugged his arm. “I know you, so here I am.”

“And I’m very happy to see you,” he said, meaning every word. “It’s quiet here, though, Mama.”

“I shan’t mind,” she replied. “Truly. I enjoy a bit of peace now and then, and I have to say that this part of the country? Just beautiful. The woods…look at them. So many trees…”

“Funny you should mention trees…”

She shot him a quizzical glance, but they were at the door and Mrs Smithee was already there, hands folded, looking at Garrett with a question in her eyes.

Introductions were quickly performed, and his mother and her maid were immediately surrounded by maids from the Manor, and shepherded off to one of the best guest chambers, which Garrett guessed was presently being whipped into shape for the unexpected visitor.

Harry may have picked a quiet corner of the country, but his hospitality could have rivalled any in town.

There was barely time to change before his mother reappeared, fresh as a daisy and clearly ready for conversation.

“So tell me, darling. What have you been doing with yourself here? I know you’ve probably not had a chance to prowl the area, so to speak, but have you met the neighbours? Attended any events?”

Garrett took her to a wide couch positioned in front of the windows, which were opened and admitting the scent of summer roses from the gardens.

“No.” He sat next to her and leaned back. “I’m here to relax, Mama. I don’t want events, and as you can see, there are no immediate neighbours. Besides, Harry’s brandy is beyond excellent, as I found out last night.” He winced. “Harry and I slightly overindulged. But his head is harder than mine. He had left for somewhere when I arose. Not sure when he’ll be back.”

Her face reflected her feelings. “Oh, dear.”

He sighed. “I know, so to spare you the bother of lecturing me, no, I have had no opportunities to either meet or evaluate any young women for the role of a wife. And I can see no need for one, as I’ve said several times before when we’ve had this conversation.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he kept going.

“I’m not yet in my dotage, and I really don’t think I’ll be in the market until I’m at least thirty-five. Which is five years away, give or take, so it would please me enormously if you would turn your matchmaking attentions elsewhere for those years? It’ll be better for us both.”

“Ah.”

He narrowed his eyes. Ordinarily, his comments would have produced a series of counter arguments, but apparently today that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well then.” She settled into the cushions, relaxing in the sunshine. “Perhaps you might like to tell me about this place. Myrtle Manor. It seems charming. You’ve walked the area, I’m sure…knowing your preference for tramping through the woods…”

Since his mother seemed set on a course of pleasant conversation, he leaned back as well and answered her questions, telling her of Harry’s stable, and how pleased he was to be able to be here, thanks to his friend, in the peace and quiet of the rural countryside.

“In truth, Mama, London got to be a less than agreeable experience.” He sighed and ran a hand idly through his hair. “I enjoy my friends. I enjoy a ball now and again, and I certainly enjoy meeting new people. But there was a sense of urgency, almost desperation, in so many of those I met this past Season. It was…” he paused, searching for the right words, “uncomfortable.”

“I’m sad to hear that.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault. Probably mine. But I was not at all sorry to close up the town house—Martin sends his deepest regards, by the way and will ensure all is in readiness for our return in the autumn, he assures me—and so here I am, amidst the loveliness that is England in the summer.” He waved his hand in the direction of the gardens.

“I have trusted Martin since I was a bride,” smiled his mother. “That’s one thing I never have to worry about. I remember my Mama telling me that a good butler is worth more than the crown jewels.”

“Indeed,” agreed Garrett.

Silence fell, broken only by the songs of the birds outside, and for a few moments, mother and son simply sat at ease with each other, sharing the pleasure of the moment.

Then he sighed. “Mama, you know lots of people.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

“At any time, do you recall meeting someone by the name of Trease?”

“Trees? Like forests? Woods?”

“Well, that’s how it’s pronounced…”

“Wait…” She held up her hand. “Trees. Trees…” She turned to him and grabbed his arm. “Trease? T-R-E-A-S-E?”

“Possibly.”

“Oh heavens, yes. Yes. Hazel Newthorpe, one of my very best friends from when I was young, married a man named Trease. I think he was a Viscount.” She frowned in thought. “Give me a moment. Hawthorn. That’s it. Lord Hawthorn Trease. I always thought how delightfully apt it was that Hazel and Hawthorn wed, given their names.”

“I see.”

“Wait…I believe their eldest son was in London recently. Got himself engaged to an absolutely lovely young woman. That was quite a story…” She chuckled at the memory.

“Would his name be Ashe?”

“Why yes. Yes, it is.” His mother stared at him. “Did you meet in London?”

Garret shook his head. “No. I met his sister this morning, here, in the woods.”

“Goodness, I’ve lost touch with Hazel, but I would adore meeting her once more. Do they live nearby?”

He sighed. “Not only do they live nearby, but apparently they own most of the beautiful forest you commented on.”

“Oh, how simply marvellous .”

Garrett closed his eyes as he realised the enormity of the mistake he’d just made.

“We must visit her, darling. I’d never forgive myself if I was this close to Hazel and didn’t pay her a call.” She laid a hand on his arm. “Can we? Could we do it today? I can’t imagine that she’d be anything other than happy to see me…”

Unable to resist the plea in his mother’s eyes, Garrett nodded.

“We’ll find out, Mama. I’ll ask Mrs Smithee if she can have someone send a note. I don’t know where they live relative to here, but she will. It wouldn’t do to just arrive on their doorstep, would it?”

“No, of course not, but I am positive that if Hazel is in residence, she’ll welcome us with open arms.”

I doubt her daughter will , he thought. “Indeed.”

With a cheerful bounce, his mother stood, a broad smile on her lovely face. “Isn’t this just the most delightful thing? I will ask Mrs Smithee if she can have one of my gowns pressed immediately…” She took a step away, then turned. “Now you have to agree that this is either an enormous coincidence or…”

“No, Mama. It is not the hand of fate.” He forestalled her. “This is England. It’s a small country in the overall scheme of things. Every now and again you bump into people you know. If you’re lucky, they’re people you actually like. Nothing fantastical about it.”

“ Hah ,” she retorted. “One of these days, you’ll learn to keep an open mind about such matters.” She walked away. “Mark my words, Garrett. Mark my words.”

“Yes Mama.” He rolled his eyes at her retreating back.

“And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Damn . How did she do that?

*~~*~~*

Unaware that the afternoon might be bringing visitors, Miss Cherry Trease resolutely made her way through the intricate corridors of the Grange to find her mother in her usual spot, behind an attractive desk taking up most of one corner of a nicely sized study. Tall windows let in sunlight and there were several comfortable chairs scattered around.

Although Lady Hazel worked diligently on the household accounts, and one or two others her husband tended to neglect, the entire room radiated a relaxed welcome, so Cherry plopped down into a large armchair without ceremony.

“Have a nice walk, dear?” asked Lady Hazel, glancing at her daughter.

“No, Mama. No, I did not.”

“Hmm.” Her mother put a final note onto the page in front of her, then returned the quill to the inkwell, and leaned back to gaze at Cherry. “I find that an unusual statement coming from you, dear. Is all well?”

“There was a—a person in the woods.”

Lady Hazel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you hurt? Should I summon the steward?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’d have already told him if there had been any trouble, trust me.”

“All right.” Her mother relaxed. “So tell me about this person. It was a man, I presume?”

“Yes.” Cherry frowned. “And he had the temerity to be sleeping on my grassy bank. Mine, Mama. The one where I always go to sit and read.”

“What an addlepated gudgeon . How dare he take such liberties? Did he not know it was your spot?”

“Um…” Cherry blinked. “Well, I suppose in all fairness, he didn’t know.”

“Even so, how dare he trespass in the woods.”

“Um, actually, he’s a guest at Myrtle Manor.”

Lady Hazel’s eyes widened dramatically. “And Harry Chalmers did not explicitly tell him that that particular rise was yours ? And yours only?”

Cherry cleared her throat. “All right, Mama. You’ve made your point. Yes, I am particularly protective of the woods, and yes, I dislike it when people I don’t know tramp all over them.”

“I’d hardly call taking a wee nap in the sunshine tramping all over the woods, but do go on, dear…”

“Anyway,” she sighed, knowing full well she’d been bested by her adroit mother, “he seemed quite impertinent.”

“So he didn’t immediately abase himself in front of you, humbly beg your pardon, and then take himself off?”

“Er, no.”

“Did he introduce himself?”

Cherry thought back over the conversation. “Actually, no. Other than telling me he was friends with Harry and a guest at Myrtle Manor.”

“And then you, of course, being the lady that you are, introduced yourself?”

“Well…sort of.”

“And?”

“He laughed, Mama. He thought our name was funny. He even asked if I had a brother named Fir.” She let out a growl of anger.

Lady Hazel tried hard to hide her chuckle, but failed, earning herself a stern frown from her daughter. She held up her hand to stem the outrage that was obviously quivering on those young lips.

“Darling, if I had taken offence at every jest involving our name, I would have missed most of the laughter in my life. Yes, Trease is going to lend itself to humour. You know that all too well. We throw it off. It’s what we do.”

“Along with selecting Christian names for your children that continue the theme.”

“Of course. By doing so, sweetheart, we play the game first. We’re the leaders in the game of Trease, don’t you see? Very few jests can match the deliciously amusing gathering of Trease family names.”

“Have you explained that to Willow and Holly?”

Lady Hazel rolled her eyes. “I can’t explain anything to your sisters at the moment. They’re at that particular stage when they’re trying to decide whether dresses, young gentlemen, or kittens are more important.”

“And I would hazard a guess that a holiday in Devon with Aunt Cornelia might help direct their attentions away from that stage?”

“Beaches, the ocean, good food, and lots of exercise,” nodded Lady Hazel. “Worked for me, and for you.”

“What worked for Ashe?”

Her mama grinned. “Your father.” She thought for a moment. “Also a ferocious stallion, a clearance project, and several terrible hangovers.”

“You’re talking about Justice? The sweetest ride in the stables?”

“Even horses have a stage. We got him out of his, too.”

Cherry sighed. “I will not apologise to that man, you know. Not because I’m in any sort of stage, but because he was in the wrong, and shouldn’t have teased me about my name.”

“You’re quite right, my dear. Think no more about it. I doubt you’ll see him again, anyway. People only stay with Harry for a few days. Too quiet for most of them, I’d think.”

“Thank God,” muttered Cherry.

“Excuse me, my Lady.” A footman peered around the door, holding a salver with a neatly sealed note on it. “This just arrived. It’s directed to you.”

“Oh? I wasn’t expecting anything…thank you.” She rose from her desk and unsealed the paper.

Then gasped. “Good heavens.” She placed a hand on her heart, her eyes wide.

“Mama? Are you all right?” Cherry hurried to her side. “What is it? Not bad news, I hope?”

Her mother smiled widely. “Not at all. Wonderful news, in fact. One of my oldest and dearest friends, who I lost touch with too many years ago, has asked if it is convenient to come to see me this afternoon. Apparently, she is visiting Myrtle Manor as well.”

Cherry blinked. “Really?”

“Yes. If I’m agreeable, she would like to arrive around two o’clock, she says.” Lady Hazel glanced up at Cherry. “With her son…”