He bit his lip. He really fought for control to the point where he thought his ears might pop.
But to no avail.
His laugh rang out loudly across the little grassy space and into the thick woods surrounding them.
“Your name isCherry Trease?” He barely contained his chuckles. “Don’t tell me. It would complete my life if you have a brother named Fir…?”
It was no good. After his horrid hangover, his lovely nap in this bucolic garden of delights, and now a scolding from a beautiful young woman who bore the name of a tree…the absurdity of it all was all too much.
Ignoring her angry glare, he burst out laughing once more, shaking his head, and brushing tears of hilarity away from his face.
Finally, he calmed. “I do apologise, but you have to admit there’s a great deal of humour in this situation.”
Sadly, she didn’t seem to see any of it. Her gaze was frosty to the point where he wondered if his ears were icing over.
“You, sir, are an unpardonably rudewretch.” She gathered her skirts gracefully in one hand. “And you have completely spoiled what would have been a delightful morning. As it is, I shall no longer walk here until I have been assured you have left the area. So you may go ahead and sleep off whatever issues youhad that brought you here in the first place.” She raised her chin even more. “I’ll wager they were caused by brandy.”
She spun on her heel, then paused and glanced scornfully back over her shoulder. “My oldest brother is namedAshe.”
With that parting shot, she strode away, leaving Garrett staring after her, wondering if he’d just been properly set-down by a Miss Cherry Trease who might or might not be a real person, or if he’d dreamed the entire episode.
If that was indeed the case, then he vowed to over-imbibe more often, since the vision he’d had was utterly charming, and he’d like more, especially if Miss Trease featured in ‘em…
Chapter Two
In Which Certain Revelations prove Distressing, while Others provide Delight…
Since his entertaining interlude was clearly at an end, Garrett sighed, brushed off any lingering grass from his breeches, and turned in the opposite direction to Miss Trease, heading back to Myrtle Manor.
It had, he reflected, been a good idea to take some time away from everything and rusticate amongst the woods (he couldn’t think the word “tree” without a snicker). He hadn’t imagined the local fauna to be quite so appealing or outspoken, but ever the man for an adventure, he didn’t regret any of their verbal sparks.
Was he on their property? He’d have to ask Harry’s housekeeper, although whether she’d know or not was a question Garrett couldn’t answer. He would have asked Harry himself, but at this moment had no idea of where his friend was.
Horses were all and everything to Harry; he’d known that from the minute the two of them met at college, and since then, Garrett was the first to acknowledge that the Chalmers stable was one of the finest in England. Odds were pretty good that Harry was off on a buying spree, or at least visiting a place where his four-legged obsessions might be found, bought, or ridden.
None of the beautiful steeds resided at Myrtle Manor, though, just a few job horses and one or two mounts for guests to ride should they wish. His own grey was at this moment grazing in a lush paddock, eating his head off, which was fine with Garrett, who was doing the same thing, only on two feet instead of four.
Mrs Smithee, the housekeeper, and an old acquaintance, wasspoiling him terribly, and he was loving every minute of it.
Come to think of it, he would wager any amount of coin that she would be able to answer some of his questions about the imperious Miss Trease, and the household at Forest Grange, even if she didn’t know much about land boundaries.
That face—how it had glowered over him. And yet for all that, it had been quite appealing, he mused as he strode across a field. Such soft skin, a blush on her cheeks and a mouth that…well, those lips…
He tripped over a root and cursed as he caught himself.
Foolish mortal that he was, he accepted that he found her very attractive, and wondered what she’d look like when she smiled.
Had she been in town during the Season? She looked old enough to be “out” in Society, but if so, why hadn’t he heard the pounding of boots on the pavement toward her residence? Surely a lovely young lady, daughter of a Viscount, and undoubtedly well-dowered, should have attracted the notice of more than a few eligible bachelors?
A question he could pose to Harry, although if he didn’t know, Mrs Smithee might again prove the most helpful.
Thus inspired, Garrett breathed in the sweet scents of grass and something flowery, appreciating the vast difference between a country field in the summer and the streets of the Metropolis.
He liked London, generally.
He had friends there, enjoyed their company of an evening, was prepared to do the necessary when it came to balls and dances, and thus far had dodged almost all the matrimonial lures that had been cast his way.
His mother had warned him years ago that he would become the target of such things, but—being the sensible and caring woman she was—had urged him to be kind, but also firm.
