by Claudy Conn
“Never mind that. How much do you owe, Freddy?” she pursued on a gentle note.
“More than I was able to pay, and it was a debt of honor.” His voice dropped an octave. “I had no choice you see—I had to pay it.”
“A gambling debt? Of course, oh, Freddy—I see it all now,” she said sympathetically. “You are honor-bound to pay it and have not been able to?”
No point in dressing him down. What was done was done. Now they had to find a solution.
“No, I paid it. I went to … a moneylender.” He closed his eyes.
“You what?” she was shocked into shrieking. “Never say so. You are underage—never say he loaned you money?”
“I don’t know about that. He didn’t seem to care about my age. Knew I was Lord Bromley and that one day … well, never mind all that. I had to put up m’father’s ring. It is an old emerald worth a fortune … more than he gave me. At any rate, I don’t wear it. But I liked it … was m’father’s, and I am sick about it.”
“How much do you owe him?”
“You don’t want to know.” He looked away.
“Oh, but I do. How much, Freddy?”
“A thousand pounds.” Again, he looked away.
Cherry swallowed the words that sprang to her lips. She took a minute to compose herself and asked gently, “And of course you did not confide in your brother?”
“No—how can I? He already thinks me irresponsible …” His voice trailed away.
“I shan’t go into that. There is no point dwelling on how it happened. It did. Now we must set it right. You must tell Skyler. Come clean, Freddy. He will be angry, of course, but he will think more of you for confessing the whole like a man.”
“No.”
“Freddy, trust me. Allow your brother to be a brother to you.”
The library door opened, and his lordship stood there, his face a mask. “Do I intrude?” he asked on a dry note.
Cherry could have boxed his ears. Inwardly she fumed and marveled at his ill timing. Instead of gritting her teeth, however, she smiled sweetly and said, “Why, how so? You could not intrude in your own home.”
“It isn’t his home,” Freddy stuck in pugnaciously. “It is actually my home. This is Bromley Grange, not Westbrooke Towers!”
Cherry rounded on him like a tigress. “What an unhandsome thing to say. His lordship is not only your guardian, but your brother as well.”
Freddy flushed and immediately retracted his statement. “I am very sorry, Sky … honestly … I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
Sky was frowning and answered quietly, “I know, Freddy. Don’t think of it.”
Cherry got to her feet. “Well, I have dallied with you long enough, Frederick. The twins are probably tearing the schoolroom apart by now.” She started for the door, but Sky reached for and touched her arm as she passed him, and she stopped.
“Miss Cherry.” His voice was a gentle wave. “Don’t go … you needn’t go.”
She smiled at him. “Oh, I think I must.” On a softer note she added, “’Tis time for brothers to be just that.” She gave him a long look and then felt his eyes on her as she left. She rather thought he understood and was about to approach the situation with Freddy from another angle.
~ Fifteen ~
LADY ELTON PACED. She eyed the letter she clasped in her hands and then plopped herself down on her pink satin ladies’ chair to read it again.
Dear Lady Elton:
In reply to your very welcome letter, I regret to advise you that Cherry is not with me.
It grieves me to read that you have been ill with worry.
At least I may rest your fears and assure you that Cherry is safe and, I believe, quite happy.
I cannot divulge her whereabouts, for I gave her my word that I would not. Forgive me.
I will, however, forward your letter to her so that she may see for herself what suffering you are experiencing. Perhaps then she may reconsider and return home.
Fondly,
Polly Corbett (now Mrs. Polly Adams)
Well, what was she to do now? Naught. Polly was her last hope. She had learned something though. At least Cherry had been in touch with dear Polly, who had always been a steadying influence on her. And at least Cherry was quietly installed somewhere. Yes, but where?
Her bedroom door opened, and her maid, Maria, bobbed a curtsy, saying, “His lordship of Dartford is here, m’lady, and he says to tell ye won’t be put off today.”
“James! Good gracious. What shall I tell him?” Lady Elton wailed.
“Mayhap the truth, m’lady. Miss Cherry and his lordship were ever good friends. He jest might be knowing where she could be.”
“Hush, you dreadful child. You and Cherry were good friends, so then, you tell me where she is, for I swear she always confided in you.”
“No, I don’t know, and I’ve told ye and told ye that. If I knew, I would tell ye for her sake, I would.”
“Yes, yes … very well then, perhaps I should take someone into my confidence. Perhaps young Dartford might be able to help.” She moved to her mirror, saying over her shoulder, “Show his lordship to the library and have coffee brought to us there, child.”
“Yes, m’lady.”
Lady Elton patted her short gray curls, screwed up her mouth, shook her head, and bolstered herself. She was about to embarrass herself with the confession about Cherry’s situation, but she did trust young Dartford.
James Dartford was, like Cherry, one and twenty years old. He was tall, lean, athletically built, and quite boyishly attractive. His hair was layered in waves of gold to his neckline, and his eyes were an interesting shade of green. He was considered to be a marriage prize and was much sought after even though he was only just out of Eton. Lady Elton knew (although she had hoped for a match between them) that he and Cherry were friends and that he was still too interested in fox hunting, foxhounds, and field hunters to be looking to settle down.
His and Cherry’s relationship had begun when they were toddlers. Since that time their friendship had blossomed, and they were nearly like brother and sister. Even long separations while each was away at school had not altered their sense of loyalty and affection for one another, and Lady Elton was certain he would not by gossip betray her stepdaughter’s scandalous behavior to anyone.
She entered the library, hand outstretched. “My lord … it has been weeks since we have seen you.”
He smiled broadly. “I have been in the country, but I have come here every morning this past week and have been turned away.” He put up a finger. “Now, see her I will, infection be damned!”
“Yes, but we have a problem …” Lady Elton said as she sank onto her yellow damask ladies’ chair.
“Problem?”
Lady Elton waved him to sit opposite her. “A very horrible problem, and I am at a loss as to how to deal with it.”
He sat, leaned forward, and said with complete sincerity, “Only tell me how I may help you, and rest assured, it will be done.”
“Cherry! She is not ill … but … but gone … she is gone …”
“Gone you say? What do you mean, gone?”
“Word of honor … this stays between us?”
“Of course—need you ask?”
“Cherry has run away,” Lady Elton said in a hushed voice.
“She what?” It was nearly a shout of laughter. “Upon my soul! The little devil. Whatever possessed her to do that?”
“I am afraid, it is all my fault. You see … she got herself into a dreadful scrape—oh, James darling, you can’t imagine …”
“Oh yes, I can. Besides, the Jersey told me all about it. Said if she didn’t curb herself and her wayward ways, she would be refused vouchers to Almack’s.”
“Well, the Jersey told me Princess Esterhazy had decided to refuse her vouchers.” She waved this off. “Never mind that now. As it happened, Lord Westbrooke offered for her, you see …”
“Lord Westbrooke?” James exclaimed i
n wonder. “Upon my soul!”
“Just so.” Her ladyship was pleased to find James’s ready understanding. “What was I to do? Let such a catch slip away? I agreed, of course.”
“Without Cherry’s consent?” James nearly whooped with amusement. “Never say so. She wouldn’t have him, my lady … because I am fairly certain she wouldn’t have the foggiest notion who he even is.”
“As you say, she would not have him. Said a great deal about not marrying unless it was for love and thought me a … a … terrible person for trying to force her.” Lady Elton looked away. “She called me a ‘stepmother’.”
“Well, you are her stepmother,” James said reasonably.
“Yes, but she meant that I was no better than … a terrible stepmother,” Lady Elton returned, still smarting from the accusation.
“No, well, she was out there. Nothing terrible about you, and I know for a fact she holds you in high esteem. Right then—she balked. Don’t signify. She doesn’t want him—doesn’t have to have him. Why run away?”
“I told her that she had no choice. I told her I would force her to marry him.”
“You never did that! You couldn’t have said that?” James was amazed. “Knowing Cherry … you said that?”
“I did, I actually did. I was so frustrated with her wildness … At any rate, she believed I meant it, though in truth, James, you know that I only meant it at that moment. She took off in the middle of the night—over a week ago—and I can’t find her.”
“She went to Polly. Loves Polly. She would go there.”
“Polly writes that Cherry isn’t with her.”
“Does she? Never mind that. Polly wouldn’t rat on Cherry. But that’s where she is. Has to be. I’ll go fetch her.”
“Will you?” Lady Elton breathed a sigh of relief.
“Aye, I’ll bring her home, see if I don’t.”
“Oh, James. You are a dear, for I don’t know what I was going to tell his lordship. He is bound to be calling again.”
“Did Cherry object to Westbrooke’s age? Mayhap she thought the fellow too old. I think he is eight and twenty, you know.”
“She didn’t care about knowing a thing about him. Said she wouldn’t marry without love.”
“Loon of a girl, but she has a point there, and she is the best there is, you know. If I were you, I’d tell Westbrooke that you shouldn’t have given your consent without taking your daughter’s wishes into account and be done with the lie about her being ill.”
“Oh … how can I do that?”
“Easy—just tell him.”
“Couldn’t you instead try talking her into at least meeting him?”
“No,” James responded emphatically. “Don’t push her to do anything, for stands to reason she’ll do the opposite.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m off!” James was already up and striding towards the library door. He turned and added, “Don’t fret, Lady Elton. Cherry is always giving me the most wonderful adventures.”
However, this did make her fret … very much.
~ Sixteen ~
CHERRY HAD WATCHED Sky and Freddy leave together, and she had bit her lip with concern. They had both looked so gravely serious, so determined. What had passed between them in the study? Where were they going? What was going on? And—why, oh why, weren’t they home yet?
It was nearly time for high tea, and Cherry began to pace. The twins came skipping into the library where she stood by the large window overlooking the front courtyard. She smiled at them as they plopped themselves on the floor by the fireplace and began playing jacks.
During their play Francine called out, “Famished—aren’t you, Miss Cherry? When shall we have tea?”
“Aye,” Felix agreed. “Do we have to wait for Sky and Freddy? Can’t we have tea brought in, Miss Cherry? My stomach is rumbling.”
However, at that moment, Cherry caught sight of the two in question and clapped her hands together. “Here they are now.” She noticed both men were looking a great deal happier than when they had left. Sky was in fact rubbing his gloved hands together and then taking up Freddy’s arm as they vanished out of sight at the front door. Cherry moved to the bell rope and rang it for tea.
Freddy strode into the library a moment later, but Sky wasn’t with him. Cherry looked hopefully past him and frowned. She tried to stop herself from asking but only succeeded in tempering the anxiousness of her tone. “Isn’t his lordship coming in for tea?”
“Sky? Aye,” Freddy answered in high spirits, “he’ll be here in a moment. Had a letter waiting for him.” He moved towards the twins. “Hallo, brats. Did you miss me?”
Francine jumped up and threw her arms around his neck as he bent to kiss her cheek. He then ruffled Felix’s hair, and Felix grunted as he pushed his brother’s hand away, saying something incoherent.
“Is everything … better, Freddy?” Cherry eyed him penetratingly.
“I don’t mind telling you that I have been a fool, Cherry. Sky is the best of great brothers, and I mean to take care I shan’t be any trouble to him in the future. Does that answer your question?”
“Oh yes, Freddy, I am so pleased.”
Sky strode into the room, and Cherry felt herself riveted. She couldn’t look away from him. He was a magnet of masculinity, yes, but it was her heart that controlled everything she felt. She loved him—with all her being, she loved him. His dark blue eyes twinkled at her as he returned her stare.
“Well … I rather thought you would have had tea warmed and ready for us,” he said jovially.
No sooner uttered than a male servant appeared with the tray, laden with delectables. Freddy made a move in its direction, as did Felix, who declared happily, “Fresh tarts! Strawberry tarts!”
* * *
It was some hours afterwards, long after dinner and a game of ducks and drakes, that Cherry announced her intention of seeing the twins to bed. Felix groaned his objections and begged for another game. Francine sighed and said she was sleepy. Sky chuckled and said, “Come on, I’ll take you two up.”
Freddy got to his feet and forestalled him. “No, allow me, Sky. I haven’t had the treat in a long time. Besides, I just remembered a story I don’t think they have heard.” He looked in their direction. “What say you?”
The children echoed their approval in hearty accents, and both Cherry and Sky watched their departure in some amusement. Cherry turned and peeped a look at Sky as she remarked, “I don’t know what you and Freddy talked about, or what you did, but whatever it was, it had a profound effect on him. Why, I thought I would die when he announced his intentions of picking up his books and studying tomorrow. Says he means to make up the work he has missed and get himself reinstated at school!”
Sky put down his snifter of brandy as he moved towards her. He didn’t speak, and she felt her heartbeat begin to accelerate. She began rattling on about dinner, and anything else she could think of, until he stopped in front of her so close she thought she could hear his heartbeat.
She looked up into his blue eyes and unconsciously licked her lips. The moment was inevitable. Their proximity to one another filled the room with a pulsating electric current. The air they breathed seemed warm and seductive. She couldn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him when he wrapped her in his arms and bent to kiss her. His mouth closed on hers with an eagerness that made her feel as though she were melting into him.
Her response was full, hot-blooded woman. She held him, pressed her body into him, invited him to continue …
His kiss developed into another, and she thought herself lost to him, to his touch and his kiss, just as she had before when he had taken her to his bed. So much rested on her ability to keep him at bay …
She was in love with him and wanted him to recognize that what they felt for each other was more than lust. She didn’t want to be a tease, but, for the moment, she had lost control.
Someone wiser, stronger in her mind demanded, Stop, Cherry—stop! And she
managed to put her hand out and push against his chest. He allowed her to pull away; she knew it was not his style to force a woman.
“Why do you hold out against me, sweetheart?” he said, his voice husky.
Why that should irritate her, she couldn’t say, but it did. She knew he wouldn’t declare love for her. He wasn’t ready for that, yet it felt demeaning. It shook her. She had given in to her desires, and now he thought she belonged to him whenever he wanted. Softly she answered, “Because I must.”
He frowned down at her, and his hands dropped to his side. “You must?”
“Proprieties … my lord, dictate that I get over my … infatuation with you and behave like the governess that I am.”
“It is a bit too late for that,” he scoffed.
“Do you think so? I, however, do not.” His words had stung, and she fought to get control over her trembling body.
“You can’t change what happened—you can’t stop what we feel for each other.”
“Lust? I believe that we are not animals and can control it. What happened was obviously a mistake.” She turned and started to walk away.
* * *
Damnation! What was this new turn of events? She couldn’t walk away from him, from what they had together! He wanted her more than he had ever thought it possible to want a woman. He more than wanted her—he damn well liked her, a great deal in fact.
“Cherry … stay, please …”
“What then, do you mean to proposition me again with the promise of ‘looking after me’. Should I accept that? Should I take a little cottage and leave my position here as governess? Or do you wish me to carry on as governess during the day and mistress by night? Shall I accept, my lord? Is that what you want?”
Her words cut through him. He felt a cad, and yet, he wanted her. Damn, but he couldn’t go on this way, wanting and not having her. She wanted him too. He was sure of it. “Stop it!” he snapped at her. “It isn’t like that.”