Oh, Cherry Ripe

by Claudy Conn

  Thomas, the head groom, smiled and moved towards them as they fed carrots to Spike and cooed affectionately to the pony.

  “Seen Brown Glaze yet, darlin’s?” Tom asked with a nod at them.

  “That we did, Tom, and looked her over in her pen, but we didn’t see any signs,” Felix answered, his face alight with keen interest.

  “Didn’t ye now? Well, well … she be waxing all right, and I think it could be tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Francine shrieked. “Oh, Tom, we want to be there when she foals, please, please …”

  “Now, now can’t be spending the entire night in the barn, ye know.”

  “Yes, we can, please, Tom. No one will know.” Both twins pleaded, hands pyramided placatingly as they closed their eyes with their hopes.

  Tom turned suddenly, his attention elsewhere as he put up a finger and hushed them. He was on no ceremony with these children, as he had taught them to ride, just as he had their father.

  The twins watched as he started off towards the stud paddock, calling their prize stallion’s name as he moved in that direction. “Frenchy! Eh, son, settle down.”

  * * *

  Bromley Grange was certainly an impressive estate. Its lands were extensive and its parks neatly groomed, but it was not the extent of its landscape that caught Cherry’s full interest. She pressed her face to the coach window and exclaimed as she surveyed paddock after paddock of horses … beautiful horses!

  “Mr. Trekner! You never mentioned that Bromley Grange was a breeding farm. Why, look at those mares … stunning!”

  “Yes, indeed. The estate brings in a handsome income from the animals.”

  “Stud paddocks must be in the back …” Cherry mused out loud.

  “That’s right. Like horses, do you?”

  “Oh yes, and I hated having to leave mine with Polly … Miss Corbett, but I thought it best for the time being.” She knew anyone looking over her prime blood would know its cost and certainly not believe she had to work for a living. “Horses,” she added, “are a passion of mine.”

  Cherry felt a twinge of shame that she had to keep up the pretense of her real identity, but she rationalized that she had no choice. She eyed Mr. Trekner fondly. They had enjoyed a lively conversation, and she had found him warm-hearted and fatherly and was totally comfortable with him, enough to ask, “How many studs do they put up here?”

  “Knowing, aren’t you, Miss Parker? I am fairly certain there are a few, but only one that draws in the major fees, and that is French Connection.”

  Cherry’s mouth dropped, and she exclaimed, “Never say so! Why he took more races last year than—”

  “Quite so,” Mr. Trekner cut in, himself apparently a horseman. “Ah, that’s right, and Bold and Fancy is the other well-known stud.”

  “Why, this is beyond everything famous!” Cherry clapped her hands. “Oh look … their stables are superb. May we stop for just a moment before we go up to the house?”

  He was no doubt anxious to find the twins and introduce them to their new nanny but kindly sighed and said, “I can’t see how a short stop will do any harm, and it will be good to stretch my legs.” He took his cane and pounded at the driver’s wall, calling the man to halt the coach.

  Cherry nimbly alighted from the carriage and watched as Mr. Trekner followed, but when they reached the entrance of the stables, she heard something that made her hurry ahead.

  Rushing down the dimly lit corridor of the barn to the double-wide opening at the far end, she came to one of the stud paddocks, where a magnificent bay stallion with all the room he needed had still managed to ‘cast’ himself in a corner between gate and rail fence line of his paddock. Oh, you silly thing! You have all that room in which to lie down, and you still managed to find a way to get stuck so you can’t stand back up! And unlike some well-behaved horses I know, she mentally berated him, you aren’t dealing with it calmly at all. In fact, he was groaning and thrashing his legs and was in danger of hurting himself. He let out a kick in desperation and cut himself against the wood railing.

  A groom attempting to get near enough to kick out the rail was speaking softly to the stallion. Two children were wringing their hands. Every time the groom attempted to get close enough to knock out the railing with a sledgehammer, flying hooves kept him from his effort.

  Cherry didn’t speak as she turned and found the tack room, ran in, and grabbed two lunge lines.

  Mouth agape, Mr. Trekner stood to one side as she sped past and went to the groom, saying, “Here, take this. Sling it round his front leg. I’ll get his rear, and we’ll get him over!”

  “Aye, good girl!” the older groom agreed. “But we still may need to get this rail out of Frenchy’s way.”

  “Right, but first we might be able to move him a bit, Mr. er …”

  “Thomas, miss, no ‘mister’ needed.”

  They worked as a team and managed, without getting kicked, to get the lines around first the front leg and then the rear. Cherry looked towards the two children and called them to her. “Come on, loves, get behind me and pull me as I pull.”

  Grunting and moaning, the three pulled and in fact did manage to get him nearly over, but not quite as he was tired from his thrashing and collapsed back into his corner.

  However, they had managed to move him sufficiently so Thomas was able to get close enough to remove the offending railings. This done, they attended Frenchy, who had managed to get on his back—rolling from side to side as he instinctively was aware of what he needed to get out of the trap he found himself in. With a winded groan, Frenchy finally rolled to one side and with a snort scrambled to stand. He blew out as he recouped his strength and regarded his rescuers.

  Thomas shook his head and eyed Cherry. “Thankee, miss. That was well done.”

  She smiled. “However did such a brute find himself cast in this large paddock?”

  Thomas grinned. “See that mud in the corner? Frenchy likes to roll in mud, and Oi’m thinking that was what he did and cast himself.” He tipped his hat at her. “Oi’ll be looking at his legs now. Good thing ye were ’ere—all m’lads are out and about this morning.”

  Cherry turned to the two children and touched their shoulders. “Well, and thank you. I didn’t have the weight to manage that without your help.”

  They both blushed with pleasure, but this was short-lived as Mr. Trekner broke the spell of the moment with reality, saying, “Well, well, Felix, Francine. Come, we will all ride up to the house together. How nice that you are here to welcome your new governess.”

  Cherry felt her heart sink when she witnessed their wide smiles simply vanish. She could have kicked Mr. Trekner in that moment. She had been nearly certain the two children were her future charges, and she wished that introduction had come only after she had been able to converse with them a few moments. However, there was nothing for it … the moment of truth had come.

  Well, some truth.

  ~ Eight ~

  SKYLER WESTBROOKE SAT back against his high-backed leather upholstered desk chair and surveyed the stout, prune-faced man standing before him. Trouble here, he thought as he smiled and indicated the chair at his side.

  “Do be seated, Dr. Hendricks, and tell me what brings you here.” It was cordially said, but there was that touch of reserve, that warning in his voice that kept people just a bit wary of him. Dr. Hendricks was no exception and tempered his words as he took up the chair and looked at Skyler ‘man to man’.

  “Your brother … half-brother, I know, is the subject of my visit.”

  “Indeed, how so?”

  Sky’s brows were mobile, and his blue eyes were sharp as Dr. Hendricks said, “His behavior, my lord, is next to unpardonable, and what makes it worse is his cavalier attitude. Most young men raise a fuss now and then—did so myself—but when caught, exhibit …feel a sense of remorse. I do not see that in him—quite the opposite. He doesn’t seem to care that he was sent down … makes no—”

  “Sent down?
” Sky cut in sharply as he sat forward.

  “Ah, so it matters to you. I was beginning to wonder.”

  “Matters? Of course it matters! What the devil are you talking about, man?” Sky was now impatient for an explanation.

  Dr. Hendricks shrank back against his chair, obviously concerned his remark had over-stepped, but he still plodded forward. “The truth is I like young Freddy Bromley and have thought all he needed was a strong hand.” He paused, searched Sky’s face, and then continued. “We have had a few talks … or I have talked, and he has only responded with shrugs and simple responses.” He sighed and then added, “I still think he could succeed if he manages to control his rebellion and apply himself.”

  “Why was I not told?” Sky stood up and went to his window, where he clasped his hands behind his back and then turned back to his guest. “I should have been told.”

  “But … I have written to you on two occasions.”

  “Wrote to me? I never received any letters from you, Dr. Hendricks.” Sky frowned as he puzzled over this. “To where were they addressed?”

  “I had them franked to Bromley Grange, and the thing is … when I was there and inquired about those letters, it seems the Bromley servants held them at Bromley for you, thinking perhaps you were due to stop in and see your young—”

  Sky heard the censure in his voice and cut him short. He was beyond the age where he flushed; however, he did so now. The twins. He had not seen them in months. His behavior was deplorable. He turned back to gazing out his window for a long moment before returning to sit with Hendricks. He said softly, “I am not often at Bromley.”

  “So I was given to understand. The thing is … Freddy should have been there by now, but when I arrived there yesterday afternoon, he had not yet been received. What is more, those twins of yours seem to run wild about the place. When I inquired after them, I was told your man went off to fetch their new governess.”

  Skyler silently berated himself. He had neglected his family in pursuit of politics and revelry. However, this caught his attention. “New governess? I had thought he had quite run through the gamut of suitable women willing to take charge of those monkeys.”

  “I don’t know anything else … but—”

  Once again Sky interrupted. “Tell me, sir, if you will, was Freddy’s offense such that he will not be allowed to return to school?”

  Dr. Hendricks shook his head. “Thank the saints, that is not so—however, such a possibility could occur in the future if he does not settle down and apply himself to his studies instead of the frivolous larks he seems to embark upon every other day.”

  “Thank you.” Sky got to his feet once more and after a moment’s pacing turned back to his desk, picked up a quill, and jotted something down hurriedly. “Do stay, Dr. Hendricks, and enjoy some refreshments. I shall have them sent in to you, but I know you will forgive me for not staying to bear you company. It seems I have been remiss in my own behavior, and Freddy’s cavalier attitude stems from my own.” He walked abruptly to the door and stood there while adding, “I mean to handle the situation immediately.”

  “You leave for Bromley?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “My lord, I would so appreciate it if you would send me word. I leave for Eton in the morning and would like to hear that your chap is under your direction.”

  “Done … and thank you for your genuine concern.” With that Sky Westbrooke was out the door and taking up his greatcoat. He had to get to Bromley and see to his miscreant brother!

  ~ Nine ~

  “RIGHT,” CHERRY SAID out loud and to no one in particular as she walked with determined steps back into the library and looked at the twins. She had just seen Mr. Trekner off, and here was the moment. She was going to have to win the two over, and she rather thought she knew the way. She directed a look at them and smiled. “I have a fancy to learn about Bromley. What say you if we take to horse and you take me under your wing and teach me about your beautiful home?”

  The twins eyed one another with open stupefaction. Here was something new; it was obvious they didn’t know what to make of her.

  “Eh?” Felix said doubtfully.

  “Oh … I am sorry, Felix … can’t you and your sister ride?” It was a taunt, though a gentle one.

  “Of course we can ride!” Felix’s chin was well up.

  “Then, would you like to?”

  “Yes … well … I mean …” Felix stumbled over himself.

  His sister picked up the slack. “But do you have a riding habit? None of our other governesses ever did.” Francine cast a practical eye over Cherry.

  “Ah, there is the rub,” Cherry answered cheerfully. “Do you think you will be ashamed of me if I hop up as I am?” She was wearing her simple dark blue traveling gown, but she had on her half boots, which she had worn the night she rode out on Bessy. “And …” She made a show of sighing. “I suppose I shall have to ride a lady’s saddle, though I would rather ride astride.”

  “Ride astride?” Felix squealed in astonishment. “Girls can’t ride astride.”

  “Oh, but they can, and I do very often—however, I suppose the proprieties must be observed now that I am a governess, and so I will cave in and ride a lady’s saddle.” She smiled amiably at both of them.

  “Is this the first time you were hired as a governess?” Francine asked in some awe.

  “It is,” Cherry answered with a clap of her hands. “So you must help me, you see, and tell me when I do something very wrong, for I understand you two have experience with these things.”

  Felix and Francine eyed one another again, and Felix tugged his sister’s skirt as Cherry moved off to look out the window.

  “Nightmare … this is a nightmare,” he whispered.

  “I think she is wonderful,” Francine said dreamily.

  “Exactly! It won’t be so easy to get rid of her.”

  Cherry had heard every word, but she did not allow them to see that as she turned back to them and said brightly, “Well then, is it agreed? Shall we ride?”

  Felix was made of stern stuff and put on a frown as he said, “Come on then, let’s not take all day about it.” With that he led the way.

  “Right,” Cherry said with a soft smile as she took Francine’s ready little hand and followed.

  * * *

  Freddy Bromley was seventeen. He was fair, tall, lean, and up to every rig. He was mischievous and full with his need for adventure. He was also the firstborn Bromley male and therefore held the title.

  His young lordship had over the last year acquired a sense of self and felt he had no one but himself to answer to, with the exception of his older half-brother, whom he adored.

  For as far back as he could remember he held Sky as the standard for all men. However, Sky was hardly ever at Bromley, and although he made excuses for his older brother’s absence, Freddy missed him sorely and would have liked to discuss with him any number of items that plagued his mind.

  Now, he was in the suds. Disgraced and sent home of all things—and he knew Skyler would not be happy about this. He was more than a little concerned, and thus he assumed false bravado with a shrug of his shoulders and made his leisurely way home. He stopped along the way to dally with various sporting (if older) gentlemen that he met at the inn where he put up for the night.

  At any rate, he was fairly certain that Sky would not be at Bromley and therefore would not yet be apprised of his present predicament. When he arrived at his home he stopped first at the stables, where Tom gave him a hearty greeting and took his horse in tow as they chatted.

  Mixed feeling assaulted him when he learned his brother was indeed still in London. Something stronger than the fear of censure took hold, and he had a great desire to see Sky and confess all …

  However, this apparently was not to be, and he arrived at his front door to be met by his old friend and butler, Thurston, whom he heartily greeted and managed to make smile in spite of his calling.

 
; “Where are the little brats?” he inquired affectionately of the twins.

  “Off riding with their new governess.”

  “New governess—riding? Why … I never heard of such a thing.” Freddy’s eyes opened wide, and his fair brows were high. “We have nothing in our stables suitable for a prim old governess.”

  “Well, as to that, Miss Parker is neither prim or old. In fact, she is not quite like any of the other governesses the children have had in the past, m’lord.”

  “Is she not? Well … perhaps I’ll just go and have a look for m’self,” young Freddy announced with keen interest and curiosity in his light eyes.

  * * *

  Prancer was a dark bay with a white blaze and two white stockings. He was a fine-looking piece of horseflesh, and he was true to his name. Cherry, however, was up to his high-stepping friskiness and soon fell in love with him. He was spirited and sleek, and she enjoyed his gait. The children had warned her when she first said she would ride him, but she ignored their dire predications and had nimbly mounted him. Very soon her strong seat and gentle hands won him over.

  The children watched her handle him, eyes wide open as he at first pranced about. They advised her that their sister Mary had never liked him and that he had not been ridden in a year.

  Cherry laughed. “Then we shall not go far until I’m sure he is fit enough.”

  The twins mounted their ponies, and Felix said to Cherry, in spite of the fact that he had just told his sister they had to get rid of this governess before she took over everything, “You are a ’right one, Miss Parker … I’ll give you that.”

  They had a wonderful ride together, chatting about the grounds, their lessons, or neglect thereof, and their oldest brother. Apparently, they viewed him as a god that had too many other duties and responsibilities to visit often, and that made Cherry frown and form an immediate, poor opinion.