Prologue
There are more than a few records of incidents occurring after which quite ordinary folk were rewarded by those of great importance.
One such incident resulted in the surprising promotion of a humble countryman, Hopper Trease, into a titled landowner. He might have been surprised, but he wasn’t stupid, and over the following generations, the Trease Estate (or Forest Grange as it became known), grew into a profitable and most respectable property, guided by the wisdom of its owner, now holding the tasteful title of Viscount of Lesser Banthorpe.
The current residents, Lord Hawthorn Trease, and his lovely wife Hazel, enjoyed their home, which had grown from a small stone house to a nicely comfortable country mansion over several generations, and had taken great and enthusiastic pleasure in filling it with their children.
All of whom, it must be said, continued the family tradition of bearing names belonging to trees.
Ashe, the eldest, had often wondered what would have happened had his parents been more fruitful, since there were only so many tree names that would work as Christian names as well. If there had been eight or nine children (thank God there weren’t), would his Papa have begun using shrubbery names? Would he have had a brother Gorse or a sister Rhododendron? He shuddered at the thought.
He did have a sister named Cherry, however, who was quite happy with her name. Also with her life at Forest Grange. Her recent visit to London had been irritating and not particularly interesting, although her Mama had done her best to introduce her to as many eligible gentlemen as possible.
Cherry, being quite stubborn and independent, had wrinkled her nose at them, glanced at her Mama in disgust, and swanned off with barely a nod of acknowledgement to any of the patient gentlemen awaiting a dance, a conversation, a cup of tea and a biscuit, or a chance at her fortune.
She was content at the Grange, and had set her mind on becoming a woman of intellect, planning on accumulating as much knowledge as she could about the forest in which she resided.
As far as she was concerned, annoying creatures such as men had no place in her future or in her dreams.
And if you think Fate could refuse a challenge like that? Well, you’re reading the wrong kind of story…
Chapter One
In Which the Sunshine and Beauty of the Forest Reveals more than Birds’ Nests…
Miss Cherry Trease took a deep breath of the fresh, clean morning air, and sent a heartfelt prayer of thanks to the skies above. She was no longer in London.
No clatter of carriages, shouting of vendors, calls of newsboys, or hustle and bustle of street traffic in general, disturbed her present tranquillity. She could breathe deeply without inhaling the distinct stench of the Metropolis, which had turned her stomach a time or two.
And wasn’t that fresh air just wonderful?
Certainly her Mama was disappointed that she’d shown no interest in the city, or any of its residents. Those she’d met were mostly acceptable, although some of her contemporaries were distressingly giggly, always fluttering their eyelashes at any gentleman they considered eligible.
Cherry privately thought they looked more like they had something in their eyes. How could such twitches be considered attractively flirtatious? She’d done her best to ignore it, except for the time she had offered a handkerchief to one young lady at a ball, with the blunt comment that perhaps it might help remove whatever was making it itch.
Not the sort of remark to endear her to the girl in question, or her companions.
No, London wasn’t the right place for Cherry, and her Mama was sensible enough to see it. With her oldest brother Ashe now happily engaged to the adorable Miss Florinda Boothe, Lady Hazel had been able to pack up their bags and remove them fromtown. Ashe would stay in a smaller lodging for a while, doing all sorts of engaged things with his fiancée, and preparing for their future. Soon they’d set a date, and then there would be even more things to do, none of which appealed to her. She’d be better off out of the way, and her future sister-in-law would probably appreciate that sentiment, being a practical sort herself.
Cherry liked Florinda, sensing a determination in her that closely matched her own. She’d welcome her when the time came, but hoped it would be many years before Ashe stepped into their Papa’s role as Viscount.
By then, she would have her own future settled, she hoped.
Not that anyone at Forest Grange knew that Miss Cherry Trease had already planned out her life in great detail, of course, because if a hint of her goals reached either of her parents? Well, they’d not be best pleased.
Her Mama was convinced that a good marriage was the foundation for happiness and success in life. A logical assumption, since that was exactly the route her own life had taken.
She was settled, clearly very fond of her husband (and he of her), had a family that mostly liked each other, and a beautiful home in the country. The Treases were good landowners, always had been. So the estate was in good shape, both financially and agriculturally.
All nice and comfortable.
But not Miss Cherry Trease’s cup of tea at all.
But then again, nothing was. To the shock and profound astonishment of the entire family, Cherry announced that she would prefer coffee to tea in the mornings. And after lunch, in the middle of the afternoon, and even after dinner.
This, as one might imagine, threw panic and horror into the entire household at Forest Grange, and it had taken more thana month for her to persuade everyone that she had not lost her mind in London.
Now, at last, the cook knew how to prepare a pot for her, and isinglass chips had been added to the Viscount’s pantry specifically for his daughter. Coffee beans and their grinder regularly filled the kitchen with a not unpleasant fragrance, and before too long, what had been shock and disbelief had turned to an odd sort of pride.
