I doubt her daughter will, he thought. “Indeed.”
With a cheerful bounce, his mother stood, a broad smile on her lovely face. “Isn’t this just the most delightful thing? I will ask Mrs Smithee if she can have one of my gowns pressed immediately…” She took a step away, then turned. “Now you have to agree that this is either an enormous coincidence or…”
“No, Mama. It is not the hand of fate.” He forestalled her.“This is England. It’s a small country in the overall scheme of things. Every now and again you bump into people you know. If you’re lucky, they’re people you actually like. Nothing fantastical about it.”
“Hah,” she retorted. “One of these days, you’ll learn to keep an open mind about such matters.” She walked away. “Mark my words, Garrett. Mark my words.”
“Yes Mama.” He rolled his eyes at her retreating back.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me.”
Damn. How did shedothat?
*~~*~~*
Unaware that the afternoon might be bringing visitors, Miss Cherry Trease resolutely made her way through the intricate corridors of the Grange to find her mother in her usual spot, behind an attractive desk taking up most of one corner of a nicely sized study. Tall windows let in sunlight and there were several comfortable chairs scattered around.
Although Lady Hazel worked diligently on the household accounts, and one or two others her husband tended to neglect, the entire room radiated a relaxed welcome, so Cherry plopped down into a large armchair without ceremony.
“Have a nice walk, dear?” asked Lady Hazel, glancing at her daughter.
“No, Mama. No, I did not.”
“Hmm.” Her mother put a final note onto the page in front of her, then returned the quill to the inkwell, and leaned back to gaze at Cherry. “I find that an unusual statement coming from you, dear. Is all well?”
“There was a—a person in the woods.”
Lady Hazel’s eyes narrowed. “Are you hurt? Should I summon the steward?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’d have already told him if there had been any trouble, trust me.”
“All right.” Her mother relaxed. “So tell me about this person. It was a man, I presume?”
“Yes.” Cherry frowned. “And he had the temerity to be sleeping on my grassy bank. Mine, Mama. The one where I always go to sit and read.”
“What an addlepatedgudgeon. How dare he take such liberties? Did he not know it was your spot?”
“Um…” Cherry blinked. “Well, I suppose in all fairness, he didn’t know.”
“Even so, howdarehe trespass in the woods.”
“Um, actually, he’s a guest at Myrtle Manor.”
Lady Hazel’s eyes widened dramatically. “And Harry Chalmers did notexplicitlytell him that that particular rise wasyours? And yours only?”
Cherry cleared her throat. “All right, Mama. You’ve made your point. Yes, I am particularly protective of the woods, and yes, I dislike it when people I don’t know tramp all over them.”
“I’d hardly call taking a wee nap in the sunshine tramping all over the woods, but do go on, dear…”
“Anyway,” she sighed, knowing full well she’d been bested by her adroit mother, “he seemed quite impertinent.”
“So he didn’t immediately abase himself in front of you, humbly beg your pardon, and then take himself off?”
“Er, no.”
“Did he introduce himself?”
Cherry thought back over the conversation. “Actually, no. Other than telling me he was friends with Harry and a guest atMyrtle Manor.”
