Oh, Cherry Ripe

“But you can’t, can you?” Lady Elton was near to shrieking. “Why not? Where has that dreadful girl of mine gone?”

A soft knock sounded at the closed door, and Maria went to open it a crack, stepping out into the hall when she saw who it was. Her ladyship heard the exchange of whispers with full misgiving as she got up, slipped on her robe, and padded over to pull the door wide. There stood two guilty-looking employees, and she demanded, “Where has she gone off to? No fabrications, if you please.”

“It would appear Miss Cheryl ’as … run away,” the lackey said and lowered his gaze.

Lady Elton’s hand went to her heart. Families had been ruined for lesser scandals than this would cause should it be discovered. “Run away …?”

Maria began to cry and turned to shout at the lackey. “You will not speak of this to anyone … do you hear me?”

He nodded and began backing up as he answered, “Never … never would oi do so … loike working ’ere and mean no ’arm to Miss Cheryl, who ’as always treated me foine …”

The boy was allowed to vanish, and Maria went to hug her ladyship and cry, “The poor wee darlin’. Ye can’t go bring a lass like she be to her knees. It won’t fadge, m’lady, and so I warned ye, I did.”

“Run away … but … why?”

“Why? Did ye not tell her she would have to marry a total stranger?”

“Yes, but—”

“A man she had never clapped eyes on?”

“Yes, but … oh …” Her ladyship suddenly realized that very man was due later that morning. “Maria, what shall I tell him?”

“Miss Cheryl will not be seeing anyone as she is in bed with a quinsy.”

“Yes, that will work.” Lady Elton grabbed her trusted maid’s shoulder. “That will work, and a quinsy will give us time to find her and bring her home.”

Lady Elton felt a wave of nausea shake her inner being. “My girl has always been so capable, so clever … but, Maria … she left all by herself.” A tear formed and rolled down her plump cheek. “Did she not realize … in the end, if she did not care for him, I would not have forced her to marry … oh, Maria, what she must think of me!”

“Miss is not a biddable girl. Ye set her against him just by telling her she hadn’t a choice. I told ye what it would be, I said let them meet first … see if he suits her, but, no, ye wouldn’t listen to Maria—”

“Stop it, you dreadful woman! Can’t you see I am upset enough? Where can she be?”

“She is a good-hearted girl. As soon as she can, she will send ye word, she will.”

“What if she is in trouble, Maria? What—”

“Now, now, my lady … ye know as well as I that Miss is more likely to be causing trouble than to be in it. She can take care of herself.”

* * *

Sky Westbrooke held his head, closed his eyes, and held up his hand to block the morning’s bright rays of sunshine. He had to steady himself, which he attempted to do.

He reopened his eyes and found his reflection in the long looking glass before him. Seeing his dark blue eyes lined with red, he exclaimed, “Egad!”

Another groan escaped him, and as he stared at himself, he thought the devil himself couldn’t look worse. His black hair was ruffled in wild disorder, and he looked older than his twenty-eight years. Last night had become something of a blur. Where he was, precisely, he hadn’t a clue, and how he had got there was a total mystery.

What he did recall, vividly, was a pair of sparkling aqua-blue eyes and a lilting, musical bubble of laughter. Little vixen. Somehow she had dragged him to the New Forest itself, or had he offered to escort her there?

No matter; they had taken a drive that seemed to have flit by but he knew was at least four or five hours. He had found himself rousing a plump and sweet-faced elderly woman who clucked her tongue at him and ushered them within her small salon. There seemed something unreal about the entire memory.

Somehow the pretty … Sarah Parker, he remembered her name, had told him he could sleep on the small sofa, but he had removed himself and his driver to the local inn. That’s where he was … at an inn!

Bloody hell! He had an appointment to meet with Lady Elton and finish up the details of his betrothal in an hour. He sighed and supposed he wouldn’t be making that appointment anytime soon.

The best thing he could do was bathe, dress, and return home, where he would send a letter of apology and a request to meet his intended on the following morning.

He sighed as he thought about leaving without visiting Sarah Parker, for she was a delectable piece of fluff he was sure he could bed with a little effort. She was a mystery, though, and he wished he could remain and uncover her secrets. She was a gently bred miss, yet wild to a fault, running about in the dead of night. She had the air of quality, and yet she was remarkably independent—and he had found himself totally drawn to her. However, life was taking him in another direction, and it would be best if he put the little vixen out of his mind …