“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 thinkanymother 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 allowthe 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 washim.
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 lessemphaticin 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…”
