Chapter Seven

In Which our Hero and Heroine Anticipate an Adventurous Evening - with Mixed Emotions

“So the weather is looking acceptable, then?”

In her room, Cherry stared from the window as her maid began to gather the necessary items suitable for a young lady attending a small country dance.

“Beautiful evening, Miss Cherry. Air’s warm, and likely a bright sunset, Cook says.” She shook out a petticoat energetically, making the material snap to attention. “Cook’s always had a good eye for the weather, as you know…”

“Indeed,” answered Cherry, trying not to sigh audibly. Her last hope of a violent thunderstorm postponing the event was fading with the onset of what was shaping up to be just as her maid predicted…a beautiful evening. Damnation.

It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid Garrett. She enjoyed his company, and yes, she really enjoyed the odd little feeling she got when he kissed her.

But her intention was to steer well clear of the mothers who would, in all likelihood, make both hers and Garrett’s evening awkward, to say the least.

The village hall, where the dance would be held, was quite large, and many couples could take to the floor for the dancing without tripping over each other. (Although that had happened a time or two, especially when Farmer Littlefield had slipped some of his special cider onto the table where the beverages were being served.)

Strong drinks notwithstanding, it was a building lending itself perfectly to this evening’s planned entertainment, with a raised dais for the musicians, and a small gallery ringing the dance floor where those choosing to excuse themselves from the more energetic activities could stroll comfortably, or avail themselves of the chairs set around the edges.

No matter where the mothers chose to sit, they could see everyone and everything. Unlike some of the London salons and ballrooms Cherry had visited, there were no nooks or niches where anyone could grab a moment’s privacy. Here in the country, everything was on display, including marriageable daughters.

She sighed as she slipped into the undergarments, enjoying the feel of the soft cotton shift that would line the lovely pink gown laid out on the bed.

She always felt a bit silly wearing pink, given that her name was Cherry, and she’d been teased often enough by her brother and sisters for it, but she could not ignore the fact that the colour suited her very well, and tonight of all nights, she needed every iota of self-confidence she could gather.

“Here we are, then, Miss Cherry. Just lift your arms a bit—like that, yes, perfect.”

The silk slid over her shift like a cloud, the lace frill at the hem drifting into place around her ankles as the girl tightened and straightened everything. The neckline was low, but trimmed with matching lace, as were the puffed sleeves that ended slightly above her elbows.

Gazing at herself in the mirror, she wondered what Garrett would think when he saw her like this, dressed much more formally than her usual day attire. A string of small pearls encircled her neck, and there were two pink silk flowers to secure her hair, worn tonight in an elegant twist at the back of her head.

She sighed. The whole thing would please her mother, since she presented the ideal picture of a young woman attending a dance in polite society. Also one who was single, and would be a perfect match for a suitably eligible gentleman.

Like Garrett.

For a brief moment, Cherry closed her eyes and recalled the sensation of being thoroughly kissed. Would being married to him be so bad? She could enjoy those kisses at will, and also whatever else went along with marriage. Not that she knew all the details, but she wasn’t a stupid woman and had a pretty good idea of what was involved.

Up to now, she’d not given it much thought at all. But that was before Garrett had touched her and turned her insides upside down.

No, it wouldn’t be a hardship to be married to him, even though they’d spent such a brief time together.

But it had to be his choice and her choice, not the result of the well-meaning machinations of their mothers. Of that, Cherry was absolutely certain. She’d heard far too many tales of arranged marriages that met all the appropriate requirements, only to learn that the couple never went anywhere together, and that the offspring were rumoured to be of dubious parentage.

“Miss?”

Cherry sighed. “It’s lovely, Mary, thank you.”

“Here you are then. Your reticule, there’s a handkerchief already in there.”

“You’re very thoughtful.” She glanced in the mirror briefly. Yes, she’d do.

But what would Garrett think?

*~~*~~*

Oddly enough, at that very moment Garrett’s thoughts were running along similar lines.

Fastening his waistcoat in front of the mirror, he frowned, wondering if his sartorial splendour was a little overt for a simple country dance.

“I don’t know,” he said to the young lad who had been conscripted into acting as his temporary valet. “You don’t think this is too much for a dance at the Village Hall, do you?”

The poor boy wrinkled his nose. “I dunno, sir, to be honest. I’ve not been to one yet.”

“Ah.”

“But I’ve seen our Mr Chalmers gettin’ ready for one not long ago, and he looked fine as fivepence. Much like yourself, sir.”

“Fine as fivepence, eh?”

“He had ever such a fancy cravat, sir.”

“Fancier than mine?”

The lad tilted his head to one side and studied Garrett’s neckwear. “Well, I’d say he had it tied a bit different. More fluffy-like, if you get my meaning.”

“Mmm. Probably the Osbaldston,” muttered Garrett. “Not a bad choice for a summer dance, but a tad showy for my tastes.” He flicked his fingers over his simple arrangement. “I prefer the Mathematical. Can’t go wrong there, I always say.”

“And very flattering it is, too, sir.”

He couldn’t resist a chuckle at the enthusiastic lad’s automatic response. “Thank you. I appreciate the encouragement, since this isn’t exactly the way I’d hoped to spend the evening.” He sighed and turned away from the glass. “Would you happen to know if Lady DeVarne is anywhere near ready?”

“I don’t, sir, but I’d be happy to find out…”

“Good lad. Go forth and do that.”

Flicking an errant piece of lint from the lapel of his coat, Garrett wondered if Cherry was experiencing the same sort of thing; all the fuss and bother of preparing for an evening out. It had to be worse for women, since they were immediately judged on their appearance.

At least all a man had to do was look presentable. And tie his cravat in one of the acceptable styles. And make sure his waistcoat was suitably elegant, but not too elegant since this was the country…

He sighed. Yes, in many ways, both men and women were held to a clothing standard that sometimes became rather annoying, stifling even.

If given a choice, Garrett would have much preferred wandering the forest with Cherry, dressed comfortably and casually, and enjoying the gentle magic of the woods as the sun set.

His thoughts would have horrified his mother, of course, but he knew that Cherry would willingly have grabbed his hand and dragged him into the peace and quiet over his mother’s objections.

They certainly had a lot in common.

Unaware that many of his thoughts were duplicating those of the young woman in Forest Grange, his body stirred at the memory of their kisses. Yes, they had a lot in common there as well.

Would it be a mistake to think about her as his wife? A permanent feature in his home and his bed? The answer was immediate. No, it wouldn’t be a hardship. In fact, he might well end up finding it more difficult living without her than with her. An odd notion, especially given the brief nature of their acquaintance.

But it had to be his decision. And hers . Not their mothers’. There was nothing worse than a marriage arranged by parental agreements. He’d known too many of that sort, and they’d been less than satisfactory at best, and disastrous at worst.

Fortunately, he had the luxury of being able to make his own choice, and he would when the time was right. All he had to do was persuade his wonderful, loving, well-meaning mother to stay the hell out of his business.

And that would be quite a challenge. Especially this evening.

*~~*~~*

There were more than a few vehicles lined up in front of the Village Hall when Cherry and Lady Trease arrived. A carriage or two, several open lightweight country phaetons, and a simple cart, decorated for the occasion with flowers and ribbons.

“I see the Mastersons are here,” observed Cherry.

Her mother smiled. “Those girls do love their frills and furbelows, don’t they?” She gazed admiringly at the colourful cushions on their cart. “It’s quite lovely.”

Cherry nodded. “I believe Jane is expecting a declaration from Charles Stonebridge any day.”

“Oh, how sweet. He has been so dedicated to her for years.”

“Yes. They’ll make a good match, I think.” She helped her mother gather her things as the groom opened the door and let down the steps.

“I wonder if Henrietta has arrived yet?” Lady Trease looked around. “Hard to tell with all these horses and grooms.”

“You won’t miss each other, never fear. Let’s go inside and perhaps you’ll find her there.”

It was taking a lot of self-control to keep her emotions in check, she realised. On the one hand, she was happy knowing her mother had a special friend that would be present tonight. Their lives were not littered with glamorous balls or assemblies, which was quite all right, as far as Cherry was concerned.

But this evening she’d be seeing another guest, a gentleman who was occupying far too many of her thoughts for comfort. So she followed her mother into the Village Hall with a certain amount of concealed trepidation, her chin high, and a polite smile fixed on her lips.

“Goodness. Everyone has outdone themselves,” murmured Lady Trease, as she looked around.

“They certainly have.” Cherry’s eyes widened as she stared at the high ceiling. From each aged beam, a large basket dangled, filled with flowers and trailing leaves, ivy, and even some grasses.

The floral theme continued with huge containers at the base of each of the tall windows. Overflowing with bright blooms, Cherry was hard pressed to identify all of them, but let herself drown for a few moments in the brilliance of the entire scene. It was still an hour or so until sunset, so there were only a few candles lit, and the soft light, the colours, and the warm glow of the aged wooden walls…it was quite breathtaking.

“My word,” she whispered. “The Village Hall has never looked so lovely, don’t you think, Mama?”

Nodding, Hazel stared up at the ceiling. “Magnificent.”

“I’m so glad to hear that, my Lady.” A jolly voice laughed at Hazel’s words. “We’ve had quite a lot of helping hands, you know.”

“Mrs Grandison,” smiled Cherry, dropping a little curtsey to the Vicar’s wife. “This is the most spectacular display. I vow there cannot be a flower left in the village.”

“It is magnificent , Dorothy. Just magnificent. Congratulations to you and everyone involved.” Lady Trease gave the beaming woman a little hug. “We’re going to have a splendid dance, I can feel it in my bones.”

Laughing, the two women moved further into the hall, leaving Cherry standing to one side. For a moment she felt almost as if she were alone in the forest, the tall window beside her offering a view of the massive chestnut tree that spread its branches over a vast area. Many outdoor activities took place in this shady spot, and she had fond memories of playing more than a few riotous games of croquet there with her family when she was younger.

The benches that had been added over the years had weathered nicely, she realised. It had been some time since she’d paid attention to such things…perhaps she needed to balance more of her life between her beloved forest and the simple pleasures to be found in these surroundings.

A profound thought for someone about to embark on the perils of a village dance.

More guests arrived, and soon she was involved in a variety of conversations with people she’d known since she was a child. It was pleasant to chat with the girls who had shared the same governesses and schoolbooks. Compliments were exchanged, a little local gossip inevitably crept in, and laughs rang out at the various amusing occurrences that brightened village life.

Cherry was still chuckling over the incident with a pig and a donkey when she turned her head, and her gaze met a familiar face.

It wasn’t easy, but she kept her countenance, merely nodding as Garrett escorted his mother into the hall. Fortunately, there was no danger that her rapidly increased heartbeat would show, nor would she reveal the urge to walk across the space that separated them and stand close enough to breathe in his scent, a mixture of leather, fresh air, and man.

Stupid, stupid, stupid .

Thus admonishing her inner self, Cherry turned her back on him and focussed her attention on her friends. It would be the easiest way to survive this evening without encouraging any kind of maternal plots or plans.

All she had to do was stay away from the temptation that was Garrett DeVarne.