Oh, Cherry Ripe

by Claudy Conn

  Nanny took all of this in with a growing frown. “She couldn’t have meant it, dearest. This start is most unlike Lady Elton. I can’t believe she would force your hand into marriage.”

  “Well, at first I didn’t think so, but she said all my chances of making a respectable match were ruined. She thought all the mamas of marriageable prizes would object to me because of my long list of scandals.”

  “Why then did this—who is he anyway?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, and I don’t know why he didn’t mind, because Mama said he didn’t, which means he does know, so there must be something terribly wrong with him. He means to stick me somewhere no doubt where I shall be alone and miserable while he goes about his usual business. I got the notion that he is something of a seasoned rake, so he probably needs an heir. It doesn’t matter, for I shall never return to Mama’s house. I can’t trust her anymore.”

  “You can’t trust her?” Nanny was moved to exclaim in shocked accents. “You are the one who has behaved in a fashion that at best can only be called … wayward, and now you say don’t trust Lady Elton? It is absurd, darling, and well you know it.”

  “Polly, don’t you see? If I were to go back … things would be worse than ever. I have done yet another unforgivable thing. I have run away from home, and in the middle of the night. By now all the servants know it, and faith, if they know it, all of London will soon know it. I can never go back …”

  “Nonsense. The Elton household adores you. We will return together and shall put it about that I had you with me.”

  “I can’t risk it … any of it … don’t want to marry a stranger, remember, and now Mama will force me … I can’t go back.”

  Polly knew the look her former charge now wore. Obstinate. Perhaps what it needed was time. And she would send off a note posthaste so further scandal could be averted.

  “Which brings us to the topic of that nice gentleman who brought you safely to me.” Polly suddenly changed the subject.

  In spite of herself, Cherry felt her cheeks get suddenly hot; she was sure she was bright red. “Yes, well … that was all very odd to be sure, and I can see how you might wonder, but there is a perfectly good explanation …”

  “I am certain there is, and I should be most interested to hear it,” Polly answered sweetly.

  Cherry peeked an uncertain look at her and tried to appear casual as she answered. “He discovered me riding along in London and rather thought I should not be allowed to head out for the New Forest alone.”

  “Yes, so he said,” her nanny returned with an encouraging look. Then when Cherry seemed disinclined to add anything further to this, she said, “I did, however, find him to be a complete gentleman and shall allow the matter to rest … for now, but I am not fooled, young lady. He was most certainly and totally foxed, and you … you were most improperly clothed.”

  “Yes, he was in his cups … I know, but better I thought by the time we reached here.” Cherry giggled behind her hand.

  Polly got to her feet, adjusted her mobcap around her short gray curls, and said, “When you have washed and dressed—and, Cheryl love, you may be in the country but you are not to don britches.” She eyed her warningly. “Then come with me to the garden, for I need to do some thinking.”

  “Yes, Nanny, but if I were a man, all this would be nonsense.”

  “But you are not a man, and, my dear, it is still very much a man’s world.”

  Sadly, Cherry thought, this was true …

  ~ Six ~

  LORD SKY WESTBROOKE was announced, albeit a day late, and Lady Elton put a wavering hand to her forehead as she prepared herself for the bold lie she was about to tell.

  She watched him as he strode towards where she sat on her pretty yellow ladies’ chair and was again struck by what a fine figure of a man he was. If only her Cherry had at least taken a ‘look’ at him. Ah well, that was past.

  He bent over her hand and murmured some apology about being a day late and having business. She waved this off and said the carefully prepared words, “My lord, I don’t know how to say this after you came all the way here, but my darling girl awoke this morning with a terrible malady.”

  “Oh, I am sorry to hear that,” he said, frowning.

  “Indeed, the doctor says it is not serious, but time-consuming …”

  “Time-consuming? I don’t understand,” he said. As she indicated for him to be seated with a pat on the sofa near her chair, he sat.

  “Well, it is … the …” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I blush to say it …”

  “Blush, then, my lady, and say it.” His lordship appeared impatient to know what was amiss with his intended bride.

  She eyed him a moment and said, this time not looking at him, “The measles, my lord. She is in no danger but, of course, cannot be seen for the time being.”

  “The measles?” he said thoughtfully with his head inclined and just the correct amount of sympathy in his voice. “I am sorry to hear it. You will please send her my regrets.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lady Elton murmured, thinking she had managed the matter very well. He seemed to accept it without any problem.

  “I shan’t keep you.” He was already up and bending over her hand. “I am certain Miss Elton must need you.”

  “Thank you, my lord. You are most understanding, my lord.” She watched him stride out of the room and felt herself relax a moment. She had bought some time …

  * * *

  “I wish, dearest Nanny, you would take me more seriously,” Cherry pleaded.

  “I do see what you think you want, and I am taking you seriously,” returned Cherry’s nanny with a grave sigh. “You are most welcome to stay on with me for as long as you like, but not until I have returned.”

  Cherry stopped and eyed her nanny questioningly. “Returned? Returned from where?”

  Polly Corbett met Cheryl’s glance with a straightforward eye, but a blush stole into her cheeks all the same. “From my honeymoon.”

  “Honeymoon?” The word was a shriek. It was followed by a clap of hands, and then Cheryl threw her arms around her nanny’s plump body. “You are getting married! This is superb and wonderful.”

  Polly Corbett smiled softly and said in a quiet voice, her eyes suddenly liquid gray, “I think you will like Harry very much.”

  “I am certain I shall, but what is important, Polly, my sweet, adorable nanny, do you like him?”

  “Why, yes, dear.”

  Cherry could see something of the ‘little girl’ in her nanny’s expression, and it filled her heart. She hugged her again and asked on a serious note, “Is it love, Nanny?”

  “I understand that you are asking if a woman of my age can be in love. And the answer is yes, my girl, yes. Perhaps not as wildly, or as blindly, as one does when one is in their first bloom, but most definitely, just as deeply.”

  Cherry dropped a kiss on her nanny’s hand and said in a hushed tone, “Oh, dearest Nanny, I am so very happy for you … so very happy.”

  “Yes, but the timing leaves us in somewhat of a bind—”

  “Never mind that.” Cherry broke in impatiently. “You must not think of anything but your upcoming nuptials.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that I am hiding away from Mama, Almack’s, London beaus, and London gossip. I shall hide here alone, and no one shall know.”

  Polly was startled. “No, my dear, you cannot even—”

  “That is unless you can send me off somewhere as a governess before you get married?” Cherry cut her off.

  “Nonsense. You are talking in absurdities.”

  “Why? I think I should like to be a governess.”

  “’Tis not a game.”

  “I would take the job very seriously, and perhaps it is what I need to mature … to take care of children?”

  “Cheryl, love, there is not a wife alive that would allow you to be underfoot and in her husband’s eye!” Polly finally got it out.
/>   “But … why … ?”

  “Use your brain, child. Would you want a beautiful, exquisitely shaped, and younger woman running about in front of a husband you love?”

  “Ah … men being men … all would succumb?”

  “Well, perhaps not all, but what is the point in tempting them?”

  “Hmmm, this is a problem, but perhaps you think I am beautiful only because you love me?”

  “Cherry, you must know better by now.”

  “But, Nanny, I have the skills. I love children. Don’t you remember how nicely I managed with the Parson children and the work I did at the orphanage near Elton?”

  “Quite different.”

  Thus, this argument continued throughout the course of the day and would have continued the following morning had they not been interrupted.

  * * *

  “I told you, work at the orphanage was work suitable to your station in life. Being a governess is … not.”

  “You were a governess.” Cherry put her arm around her.

  “Yes, but …” Polly stopped and, putting a finger to her lips, turned her head to look away from the herbs she was collecting from her garden as the sound of wheels grinding over pebbles in the drive came to a stop.

  Cherry and her nanny looked over her white picket fence to find a well-outfitted and handsome coach had arrived. She said as much to herself as to Cherry, “Why, who can that be?”

  Cherry and Polly stood back and watched as the shiny black door of the coach opened and an elderly gentleman clothed in somber gray attire descended the steps, with his cane clasped in his gloved hand.

  “Why, it is Mr. Trekner,” Polly whispered. Then with a wave of her hand, she called out, “Here, sir … in the garden.” In an aside to Cherry she commented, “I wonder what brings him here?”

  The elderly man looked around at the sound of her voice and smiled warmly as he moved towards the white gate. “Miss Corbett,” he said as he tipped his hat and made his way towards them.

  He bowed his head and said softly, “My, my, you are looking fit, Miss Corbett. How long has it been since I have seen you? Five … maybe six years?”

  Polly laughed. “More like two, sir, and how nice to see you again, but what brings you to the New Forest?”

  “You, indeed, you bring me,” he answered gravely.

  “Really?” Her brows rose, and then she indicated the stone bench at her side, saying simultaneously, “Oh, how remiss of me …”

  Cherry went forward, worried that her nanny would slip and give her real name. She stuck out her hand. “Sarah Parker … how do you do?”

  The elderly man had removed his top hat as he sank onto the stone bench across from where Cheryl was standing. He eyed her keenly for a moment as she smiled at him but asked no questions. It appeared he had problems of his own; perhaps he sensed she did as well.

  Miss Corbett offered refreshments and an invitation inside, but he declined, waving this off with his cane before settling it down. “There, there, Polly, don’t fuss. I’m not really here socially.”

  Polly eyed him doubtfully. Theirs was an old acquaintance. He had known her father, and he had been instrumental in Polly obtaining her first post as governess. She was not one to put things off and inquired abruptly, “Well then, Mr. Trekner, why are you here?”

  He smiled appreciatively at her. “Ah, Miss Corbett, I need your help.”

  “Of course, if I can,” she offered at once.

  He leveled a bold glance at her. “Miss Corbett, I need you to do what you do best—manage a pair of wayward, unhappy children.”

  “My word, what can you mean?”

  “You will recall that I wrote to you and inquired whether your services as governess would be available for the Bromley twins?”

  “Yes, yes,” she interjected quickly, “and as I explained in my letter, I am retired. There were two qualified ladies of my acquaintance that I did, however, recommend to you …”

  “So you did. Excellent women, both of them. The twins ousted the first in less than six weeks. The second took them only one month to be rid of. The remunerations both were offered to reconsider and stay were quite exceptional … and still, they ran.”

  “Faith! Poor dears.” Polly clucked.

  “Indeed, those two women were quite wretched when they left.”

  “No,” she responded, “I meant the children.”

  “The children?” He appeared surprised.

  “Yes, of course. Only think how very miserable and confused they must be.”

  “Then you will do it?” His face brightened.

  She shook her head. “No, I am afraid I cannot.”

  Despair could be seen in his aged eyes. “I am at my wits’ end,” he said quietly.

  “Sir, dear sir. I would do it if it were at all possible. But I am about to be married on Sunday.”

  He looked at her and smiled. “Are you indeed? I am happy for you, dear. Is he deserving?”

  “I think he most certainly is,” she answered softly.

  Cheryl had worked up her courage during this discourse and stuck in, “I will do it!”

  Mr. Trekner and Polly both looked at her. He shook his head. “You are scarcely more than a child yourself.”

  “No, I am not a child, sir. I am one and twenty. Miss Corbett was one and twenty when she took on her first charge, and I can do it. I know what it is to be a troubled child. I can deal with them, and I am young and strong enough to handle what they throw at me.”

  Again he shook his head. Cherry frowned and inquired, “Is it that you think their mother will not approve?”

  “No, no … they lost their mother more than a year ago—their father before they had the opportunity to even really know him. That is the problem. They haven’t any parental supervision, which is why I think you are just too young to handle the situation … without guidance.”

  “I was raised to manage a household. I am skilled in French and Spanish. My math is poor, but my knowledge of literature is certainly wide … How old are they, by the way?”

  “Twins … the boy, Felix, and his sister, Francine, are eight years old and full of mischief.”

  “Please, sir, they need me, and at this point in my life … I need them.”

  He stared at her while Polly took all of this in quietly. Finally Polly said, “This is perfect for all concerned. It is exactly what Miss … er … Parker …” Sarah Parker had been Cherry’s mother’s maiden name, and she was prevaricating, but perhaps the end might justify the means. “… needs, and I do believe she will be good for the twins.”

  “Perhaps,” Mr. Trekner said thoughtfully, “but there are more …”

  “More what? Children?” Cherry was surprised into asking.

  “In a manner of speaking, though they shan’t trouble you. There is Mary. She is fourteen and presently attending finishing school, and there is Frederick. He is seventeen and attending Eton.”

  “If they haven’t any parents … who has the care of the twins now?”

  “That is the problem. They are under the care of the servants until their oldest brother can attend them.”

  “Who is he that he can’t attend them immediately?” Cherry asked in some surprise.

  “That doesn’t matter—he is busy in London, active in Parliament, and has duties that have detained him in London at the moment, but I am certain he will return to Bromley Grange as soon as he may.”

  “Darling …” Miss Corbett turned to Cheryl. “If you do this, you must see it through. You must not leave these children.”

  “You know me, Polly—you know I would never do that. Perhaps this is what I have always been suited for …?”

  Miss Corbett eyed her ruefully. “I doubt that, but I do think this will be the making of you—and the children.”

  “Now, just a moment! I haven’t offered her the position yet.”

  “Do you have a choice?” Miss Corbett’s brow was up.

  He sighed heavily. “Then I suppose w
e are agreed?”

  “Oh, we are most definitely agreed.” Cherry almost laughed.

  Mr. Trekner cast his eyes towards the sky and silently prayed.

  ~ Seven ~

  TWO FAIR-HAIRED CHILDREN looked into one another’s blue eyes and grimaced. “Well …” the boy said on a defiant note, “she won’t stay. None of them do, and this one won’t be any different.”

  His sister eyed him sadly. “I don’t know, Felix. Maybe this one will like us … maybe … and then it will be different. It just might be nice to have someone—”

  He pulled a face at her. “What’s that you say? Someone to tell us what to do—when to go out, when to do this or that—keep us from the stables?”

  They were at that moment on their way to the stables, for horses were a passion with both of them.

  “Hmmm. I shouldn’t like to be kept from the horses, and that last governess was dreadful about it. She did have to go …” his sister mused.

  “Aye, just let me look after us. I know what to do.”

  “Still, this one is supposed to be a friend of Mr. Trekner’s, and we do like him.”

  “What is that to say to anything?” he scoffed. “He is a man.” As if this statement settled the matter, he proceeded, expecting the subject to be closed. It wasn’t. His sister wasn’t ready to let it go.

  “Yes, but, Felix … if this one does turn out to be … er, pleasant, promise me you won’t put a frog in her bed like you did to the last one.”

  He stopped and went very still for a moment before he exclaimed in some surprise, “But, Francie … that was funny! You laughed too!”

  “So I did, but she deserved a frog in her bed,” his sister answered thoughtfully.

  “And this one will get the same if she sends us off to bed without dinner,” retorted her brother, ready for a fight.

  She could see she wasn’t getting anywhere and decided to let the matter drop for the time being. At any rate, they had reached the large, rambling barn, and the frown had vanished from his face as Spike, their pony, came into view. Felix called out his name, and they both squealed with delight as the pony raised his small head and returned their greeting with enthusiasm.