“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 wassomethingabout 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.”
