Chapter Six

In Which Discoveries are made in Relation to the Characters of our Confused Conspirators

Cherry arrived at the rise promptly at nine o’clock the following morning, and admitted to herself she was somewhat surprised to find Garrett already there. At least this time he wasn’t masquerading as a dead body on her grass, since he sat comfortably with a book in his hands, although his gaze was on her face, not the pages.

“Good morning.” He rose, leaving the book on the ground. “I’m happy you could be here, since I have been trying very hard to work up some sort of plan, and failing miserably.”

“Good morning to you,” she nodded back, glancing down at his feet. “What are you reading?”

“A new novel by an author I enjoy. Walter Scott. Ever hear of him?”

“Of course. Is that Guy Mannering ?”

His eyebrows rose. “Indeed it is. You’re familiar with his works then…”

Cherry smiled. “I very much liked Waverley , and wondered if his following tales would live up to the standard he set with that one.” She sat down on the grass, pleased that he joined her without comment, and the next half hour passed quickly as they found other shared literary favourites, discussing them in a lively fashion that brought an unexpected degree of pleasure to her heart.

Few people admitted they liked reading—well, few young women, anyway—and to have a conversation like this with a gentleman was a welcome surprise.

However, before long, they both knew that such matters as books must be set aside in favour of the most important business at hand.

“All right,” said Garrett with a sigh. “Excuses for not attending this dratted dance.”

“Illness? I could catch some kind of ague…”

“Your Mama would know that to be untrue, as would mine.” He shook his head. “I think they have some sort of sixth sense about things like that. I often wonder if giving birth to a child stimulates these uncanny inklings mothers have.”

She chuckled. “I haven’t a clue how they do it, but you’re right. So we cannot feign illness.” She stroked her hand idly over the soft grass, then raised her head. “Could you receive an urgent message from London, perhaps? Some important business matter that needs looking into?”

He was silent for a moment, considering her suggestion.

Cherry let her gaze roam over his face as he lost himself in thought. He really was rather handsome, she concluded, and possessed of a most pleasing nature. Another gentleman might have immediately taken himself off to town or just left the neighbourhood without a word.

But here he was, sitting on the grass with her, working with her to find a solution to what could prove to be a potential problem.

“Won’t fly,” he sighed. “The dance is too close. By the time I send anything to London to anyone who might be there and be willing to write back to me, it will be too late. I could use my butler at our town house, I suppose, but even so, it would be risky. And once again, the amazing powers of my mother would immediately recognise a ploy.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She’d know, no doubt about it.”

Garrett pushed himself to his feet. “Come on. Let’s walk. I find that sometimes a little exercise can stimulate my brain.” He extended a hand to her as she began to rise, and without thinking, she took it, surprised at the shiver of pleasure that slid up her arm and through the rest of her. His palm was warm, his grip firm.

And his smile as he looked down at her and linked their arms? Had she been made of ice, she’d have melted on the spot.

With his book in his pocket, and his arm warm against hers, Garrett turned them both to the path Cherry had taken earlier.

“May I have your permission to enter your woods, Miss Trease?”

She grinned. “I would be honoured to invite you to do so, Lord DeVarne. It would be my pleasure to point out the interesting features of our forest.”

“I’d love to see them,” he replied, his dark eyes meeting hers. “We might find the exercise stimulating enough to come up with a plan while we stroll.”

They walked in silence for a little way, Cherry quite content to be in the place she loved with a man she was finding to be more and more interesting. That should disturb her, but to her surprise, it didn’t. Walking with Garrett, talking with him, showing him little things he might have otherwise missed—a squirrel’s nest quite low in a tree, but cleverly hidden, and what she knew was an owl’s home higher up where the trunk had presented a convenient hole. All a delight as her enthusiasm was reciprocated.

He paused, looking closely, shaking his head as he saw the way nature’s creatures had made clever use of such tools. “Makes one wonder, doesn’t it?” he said, somewhat obscurely.

“Er, yes. Yes, I suppose it does.” They strolled on. “But mostly it enchants me. All these things happening quite naturally, and yet do we ever take the time to observe them?”

“We? You mean us in particular, or just people?”

“Just people, really,” she answered. “Especially those in town. Can you imagine…oh, let’s say Lady Jersey as an example…can you picture her here, taking the time to admire how birds build their homes?”

He shook his head on a laugh. “No. Absolutely not. She’d probably be more worried about the state of her slippers.”

They reached the stream where the irises were growing, and Cherry noted that yes indeed, there was a tiny yellow flower showing even more brightly today.

She stopped to lean over and peer at it, then straightened and nodded. “Good. I planted these yellow flags a little while ago. It’s good to see them happy.”

“Flags?” Garrett looked at her, obviously confused.

“Irises, yellow irises,” she replied. “See there, that little spark of yellow? The flags name comes from long ago, something to do with reeds, or water-loving plants, I believe. Our gardener always calls them that, so I do as well.” Without thinking, she leaned forward to touch the bud, and her shoes slid on the damp earth, making her gasp. “Oh…”

Garrett’s arm tightened, and he pulled her back quickly, catching her before she tumbled headfirst into her irises, tugging her close to his body.

“I…”

Held tightly by strong arms and stunned by the sensation of a firm chest pressing against her breasts, Cherry caught her breath and looked up into Garrett’s eyes. Her lips parted, and there was something she should be saying…

He lowered his head and kissed her, gently, softly at first, a mere brush of his lips. But then what felt like a fire erupted inside her, and instead of politely freeing herself from his arms and blushing, as any properly brought-up young lady should do, Cherry slid a hand past his shoulder and around to the back of his neck, urging his face closer to hers.

He made a sound, between a hum and a groan, and kissed her again.

This time, with a great deal of enthusiasm.

*~~*~~*

Her lips tasted of honey and flowers, and Garrett completely lost himself as he attempted to devour her. Some imp of desire took over his brain, forcing his common sense into a corner cupboard and shutting the door. Her body fit his in the most perfect of ways, her breasts soft against his chest, her arms locked around his neck, and his hands stroking anywhere and everywhere, learning her curves and dips and valleys and mounds…

He discovered he was holding a rather nice and shapely bottom comfortably in his cupped palms, and his body was responding enthusiastically. God above, he could lay her down right now on the soft grass and take her until they were both too exhausted to move.

“Garrett…” She pulled back a little and whispered his name, a breath against his mouth.

“Cherry, good God,” he muttered, slowly releasing her as his mind returned and his body ached at the loss.

They blinked at each other, unsure of what to say or what to do.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Well,” she said, colour creeping into her cheeks. “I’m not sure if I should apologise for being too forward, or thank you for being such a nice kisser.”

He couldn’t help a chuckle which eased his tension, then pulled her back to him and hugged her. “I’ll take both. And return the compliment. Please,” he gazed at her, “please be forward any time you’d like.”

“Any more of that sort of thing and we’ll have both our mothers planning the wedding before either of us can catch our breaths.”

That little verbal bucket of cold water sent a shudder through Garrett and his body immediately calmed. “Er, yes. Yes, you’re right.”

Silence fell for a few moments.

“How about one of us receiving a message from a friend? Needing our help, or letting us know they’re unwell…something along those lines?”

He blinked, slightly irked that after a kiss that had shaken him to his boots, she could apparently manage coherent thoughts about their current situation. Hadn’t she felt that…that something too?

“Do you have any friends nearby who could manage to let you know of their dreadful ailment before tomorrow night?” He shot her a questioning look, complete with a raised eyebrow. “Ones your mama does not know about, of course.”

Apparently unimpressed by his expression, she frowned down at her shoes. “No, unfortunately.”

“Neither do I.”

“An attachment to another? Someone you’ve not mentioned to anyone before now?”

Garrett couldn’t resist a snort at that suggestion. “No.” He stole a peek at her face, wondering if he’d caught a glimpse of relief or if it was simply his imagination showing him something that he might want to see. “You?”

“I could tell Mama that I’m thinking of becoming a nun and want to spend the weekend at a convent.”

“Really?” He drawled the word in derision.

“Well, do you have any better ideas? I seem to be the only one coming up with anything at the moment,” she shot back, rounding on him, hands on hips.

He stared at her, all flushed and irritated, and amazingly beautiful. “Yes. I have a much better idea.”

She sensed it, her gaze flashing to his mouth, her breasts rising with an indrawn breath. “Ohh…”

This time they both knew where they were heading, his arms encircling her with determination, hers slipping around his neck as if they belonged there.

The kiss was passionate, eager, lips parting, tongues duelling, sounds of pleasure drifting softly into the quiet forest air around them.

Garrett couldn’t get her close enough to him, gripping her fiercely, as if to let her know she was his, and that was all there was to it. Her taste, the scent of her skin, the feel of her hair and her body as she moved against him, and her eagerness to be an equal participant—it was all overwhelming and he felt knocked askew by the unexpected emotions that jolted him as he kissed her.

To judge by the sounds she made, Cherry had surrendered as well.

Tiny moans and whimpers escaped from her throat as she moved her head, snuggling tightly against him, experimenting, enjoying, letting her body dictate her moves and unabashedly taking everything he was giving her.

As his hands slid down to find her roundness once again, and daringly pressed their bodies intimately together, she hummed with pleasure, her fingers in his hair, rising on tiptoe to find the right place to match his movements.

She was going to drive him insane if he let her, so with almost painful care, he eased them apart.

“Cherry,” he whispered, kissing her once more quickly. “God, Cherry.” She staggered a little and he caught her arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t be silly.” She straightened her skirts, but couldn’t quite meet his eye for a moment or two.

“I’m not being silly.” This time it was his throat that needed clearing. “I find…” what ? What could he say that would excuse his conduct? “I find you most attractive.”

“As I do you,” she answered promptly, her gaze rising to his face. Bold and courageous, she met his look, with a slight tinge of colour rising to her cheeks. “Kissing is a pleasant pastime, to be sure.” She swallowed. “One I’ve not pursued very often, so I must ask your forgiveness for my…erm…overt enthusiasm.”

“No apologies or forgiveness needed.”

“Perhaps we should return. Our absence will be remarked if we remain here much longer.”

“Indeed.” He looked around. “I believe my path leads that way.” He nodded to his right.

“Yes.” She sighed. “And mine is straight ahead.”

“We didn’t come up with a plan,” he commented as they moved apart a little.

“No, unfortunately.” She squared her shoulders and sighed. “I suppose we must try to keep our distance at the dance. Perhaps that will persuade our mamas that they shouldn’t get their hopes up.”

“It’s for the best,” he answered.

“It is.” She nodded firmly. “Until we meet again.” A tiny curtsey.

“Until then.” A slight bow.

It wasn’t until she was out of sight that Garrett turned to his path, then realised that his teeth were clenched so hard it was quite surprising they hadn’t cracked.