Chapter Four

In Which the Power of Motherhood Surpasses Expectations

Garrett sat in the carriage opposite his mother and tried to focus his thoughts.

She seemed to be enjoying the short ride, exclaiming at the views, expressing her pleasure at the sunshine, and her excitement at seeing her dear friend once more.

“So many memories between us, Garrett,” she smiled. “All the mischievous escapades you can imagine two young girls getting up to? We did them.”

“I have to wonder what your Mama and Papa thought about it all,” he observed. “And I wish you’d told me about all that when I was younger.”

“Good God, no. D’you think any mother would voluntarily instruct her children on bad behaviours?”

He chuckled. “I suppose not.”

“It’s certainly an astounding coincidence that Hazel is so close, though. I lost touch with her when her family moved away, and not long after I read of her marriage. A good one, as far as I could tell.”

He bit his lip. “You know, I really think I’m going to like your friend. Because both she and her husband must possess a very well-developed sense of humour to expose themselves to such a distinct naming characteristic. The eldest son is named Ashe, and they have a daughter, Cherry.”

Lady DeVarne grinned. “Sounds just the sort of thing Hazel would do.”

The carriage slowed, and she turned to look out at the building they were approaching. “Goodness, Garrett. This is quite lovely indeed.”

“Forest Grange,” he murmured, staring at the view. A beautiful facade lay on a slight rise, tall columns extending to an elegant low Palladian roofline, with symmetrical windows and balconies, all contributing to the classical magnificence of a Viscount’s country home, showcasing massive firs in the woods behind it.

Given its name, it was only to be expected that the surrounding landscape should feature trees in abundance. In fact, it seemed as if the forest was encroaching upon the building in some places, and yet the lawns managed to flow around them like green rivers, softening the angular structure of the house itself.

“Beautiful,” his mother nodded. “I think we might look at doing something with Belcaster, don’t you?”

“No, Mama.” The reply was firm. “Belcaster is not to be touched.”

She sighed. “Yes, dear. If you say so.”

Since that particular comment usually meant “ I heard you, but I shall doubtless find a way to do whatever it is anyway ”, Garrett thought it best to change the subject.

“I wonder if the entire family is in residence?”

“I hope so. I should very much like to meet them.” She glanced at him. “Do you know anything about them?”

“Er, not very much, no. Although I believe there is a daughter.” The memory of unusual grey-blue eyes and full lips swam into his brain and distracted him.

“Well, then, we shall find out together, shan’t we?” She looked at her son. “Garrett?”

“Yes?”

“Get out of the carriage, dear.”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

A little embarrassed, he hurried to open the door and allow the footman to lower the step so that he could help his mother disembark once he was on the ground. “My reticule, dear. It’s on the seat?”

Neither noticed the twitch of a curtain, which might have suggested to one or both of them that their arrival was being observed.

*~~*~~*

The lady looked elegant enough, admitted Cherry as she moved from the window and walked into the hall. But it was the gentleman with her that caught her attention.

It was him .

There was no mistaking him, tall body clad now in appropriate garments, topping his mama by at least a foot, and the sunlight striking chestnut sparks from his brown hair.

Had she been meeting him for the first time at her front door, there’d have been no mistaking his status as a gentleman. But even so, she did not regret her earlier behaviour. Because no matter which way she looked at it, he’d been in the wrong. Although, (she gave a brief nod to her weary conscience which sulked in a corner of her brain), she might have been less emphatic in her conversation. And yes, she probably didn’t need to kick him, but it felt right.

She raised her chin as Ferguson, their butler, welcomed the guests. And then blinked in surprise as two perfectly gowned middle-aged women squealed and ran into each other’s arms like young girls.

“ Hazel …”

“ Henrietta …”

The next few moments passed in continued squeals, hugs, a bit of dancing around, and then—as the noise subsided—a sensation that she was being observed.

Her gaze drifted to the gentleman standing behind the ladies with a gentle smile on his face. He was watching her.

She swallowed. He gave her the tiniest nod, then returned his attention to his mama.

“Garrett,” she called, holding out her hand. “Come. You must meet my dear friend…”

“Goodness,” said Lady Trease. “He’s a tall one, Hazel. And handsome too.”

Garret bowed. “You are too kind, my Lady. And thank you for allowing us to visit on such short notice.” He grinned. “I swear my Mama would have come directly here and completely ignored me had she been aware of your presence.”

Lady Trease laughed back, holding his mother’s hand in hers. “And her welcome would have been every bit as warm, I can assure you.” She turned to Lady DeVarne. “My turn, Henrietta. My oldest is still in town, with his new fiancée. Lovely girl, and we’re all thrilled. My two youngest daughters are presently with their aunt, so I’m enjoying a lovely time with a single daughter for company. Cherry, darling, come and meet one of my best friends…”

She walked slowly toward the group in the hall, back straight as a board, chin high. Her attention was all on the lovely woman holding her mother’s hands, and she curtsied gracefully. “Welcome to Forest Grange, my Lady. I trust your trip was pleasant?”

“Indeed, yes, Miss Cherry. And made so much more delightful by my visit here.” She turned. “Garrett, make yourself known to Miss Trease. You two can chat while Henrietta and I catch up.”

Lady Trease beamed. “We have tea in the Summer Room. Come, I’ll show you.”

Completely ignoring their children, the two women moved from the hall toward the rear of the house, leaving Garrett and Cherry to look at each other somewhat awkwardly.

“Miss Trease…” Garrett began.

“I…I believe I owe you an apology, sir,” she said quietly.

“No, not at all.” He offered his arm correctly. “We must follow the mothers if we’re not to be reprimanded. Perhaps there will be chance for us both to settle our differences of opinion this afternoon…”

Swallowing down a retort, she simply nodded and put her hand on his sleeve, allowing him to guide her in the footsteps of their mamas toward the Summer Room.

He paused at the entrance. “Ah. A delightful spot, I have to say.” Glancing at her, he tilted his head to the windows. “Perfect for enjoying the warm breezes, and I’ll wager you come in here even in the winter.” His gaze wandered back to the open doors. “Although you’d need a good fire on a snowy night.”

Since that was exactly the case, Cherry bit back the sharp comment that hovered at the tip of her tongue. Why was it this man irritated her so? Pointing out that there were fires everywhere on snowy nights would have been both rude and redundant, but there was something about him that got under her skin.

“Yes,” she replied.

His lips twitched. “Not quite so chatty at home, Miss Cherry?”

She shot a look at their mamas, now both engaged in lively conversation, pouring tea, balancing cups, cake plates, and laughing all the time. “One must adhere to the rules of politeness, sir. We may converse, but only on suitable topics.” She narrowed her eyes as she turned slightly toward him. “God forbid my mama should overhear what I’d really like to say to you.” Unclenching her teeth, she managed a polite smile. “Lord DeVarne.”

“Ah.” He wrinkled his nose. “You have learned my identity?”

“Mama told me that your mother is Lady DeVarne, and referred to you as Lord DeVarne, so one must assume your papa is no longer with us?”

“That’s correct,” he replied.

“My sympathies, sir,” she said quietly. “We are blessed in this house to have both parents in good health.”

“Your papa is…”

“Away on estate business at the moment.” She moved, and he followed politely, seeing she was headed for the table where the cakes and other confections were spread. “We expect him to return by the end of the month, if all goes well.”

Picking up a plate, she placed a small cake on it, and offered it, pleased to see him accept. “Would you care for tea?”

His look did not need to be translated into words.

She sighed. “I know. I hate this sort of thing as well. And I’d much rather have coffee, but Mama insists on tea when company’s present.”

“Mmm. Cake’s excellent though,” he took a second bite while raising an eyebrow. “Coffee? How continental of you.” He finished the treat in one final gulp. “That was really tasty. Always loved raspberries.” He licked his lips.

The sight of his tongue flustered Cherry, to her stunned surprise, and she had to clear her throat.

“Pour some tea for Lord DeVarne, darling,” said her mother. “Perhaps you both might like to take your refreshments outside for a little while?”

“A lovely notion, Hazel,” endorsed Lady DeVarne. “Listening to us prose on for hours must be unspeakably boring for you both.” She waved a hand toward the lawn. “With such wonderful weather, and the perfect setting, it seems foolish not to take advantage of it.”

“Of course, Mama. A thoughtful notion.” Garrett offered his arm to Cherry once again. “If you would bring a cup of tea for me, I’ll put a couple more of those cakes on a plate, if you approve?”

The task was easily accomplished, and no more than a minute or so later, both Cherry and Garrett were seated together at a small garden table, with the aforementioned delicacies and a single cup of tea. Cherry signed in vain, since she knew a cup of coffee would not be appearing in the presence of company.

“Well, isn’t this charming?” Garret leaned back, munching on another cake.

“I’m sure you must be quite bored,” Cherry replied, irritated at how easily he seemed to handle their situation. “After all, you have barely recovered from that headache of yours…”

“Not to mention the bruise from where I was kicked,” he shot back.

She bit her lip. “I apologise, sir. That was not well done of me.” She nibbled on a tiny piece of iced biscuit, aware of his gaze. “However, in my own defence, I was—at that moment—profoundly concerned that you might be dead.”

“The fact that I was breathing didn’t give you a hint?” He sipped tea nonchalantly.

“I failed to notice that detail, since I was in considerable shock at finding what I thought was a tramp sleeping on my grass.”

“Ah.” He polished off the last raspberry cake. “My compliments to your cook, by the way.”

“Thank you. I will be sure to pass them along.”

Silence fell for a few moments, but oddly enough, Cherry didn’t find it uncomfortable. The sun was warm, the garden as beautiful as always, and it was rather nice to be able to listen to the birds and the muted voices of their mamas as they laughed and conversed in the house.

“I had no idea our mothers knew each other,” commented Garrett. “Truly, it was a huge shock.”

“To me also. In fact, when you step back and look at it, the coincidence of them being old friends? Well, you’d not find too many people who would even consider such a thing.”

He nodded. “Just our luck.”

“Perhaps it will be brief.” Cherry tried for icy politeness, but the way he relaxed in the chair gave every appearance that he was enjoying himself, and it soothed her.

Then he straightened and frowned. “Oh no. I just had a terrible thought. Did you tell your Mama about our meeting?”

“Um…” Cherry sighed. “I may have mentioned something about it…but I had no idea who you were, of course. Not until you walked in the door a little while ago.”

“Oh God.” Garrett shook his head and closed his eyes.

“What?”

“You’ve gone and done it now.”

“Done what?” She blinked at him in confusion.

“You don’t realise what you’ve set in motion?” He blinked and stared at her.

“What the devil are you talking about?”

“Those two. In there.” He tipped his head in the direction of the Summer Room.

“What about them?”

Garrett took a breath. “By now, they’ve covered most of the history they missed. And they are probably on current events, and family. I wouldn’t want to bet on the fact that they’ve already guessed I was the man you met in the forest.” He swallowed. “You, Miss Trease, are the eldest unwed daughter of my mother’s best friend. And I?”

Cherry felt the colour drain from her cheeks as realisation set in. “Oh my God. You’re single too ?”

“Exactly.”

“You think they’re going to try and make a match of us ?”

His raised eyebrow answered her.

“Damn, damn, damn . What the devil are we to do about it?”