“Right. Well,” James answered as he got to his feet. “I think I’ll go join them in the schoolroom and watch her in action.”
“What?” Sky snapped, irritation covering his face.
“Oh, I know the way,” James replied lightly, already out the door.
Sky turned to his brother and noted to himself that Freddy had been strangely quiet during this entire exchange.
However, at this juncture Freddy said, “Getting damned possessive of our little governess, aren’t you, Sky?”
“Impudent boy. I don’t think so … just making certain she has our protection,” Sky said carefully, but he couldn’t miss the look in his brother’s eyes—the look of sudden thoughtfulness.
Freddy pushed away from the tabl
e and got up. “He is the best of good fellows, Sky … don’t know why you dislike him.”
Sky stared at him for a long moment. Was Freddy goading him? “He may be that, but it seems to me he is here to take Miss Cherry away from us—away from the children, I mean.”
“Is that what you think? Well, he won’t because he can’t. He tried already—Miss Cherry wouldn’t go.”
“What?” Sky exclaimed. “How do you know?”
“I was there, the first day he arrived. Came here to take her back with him. She wouldn’t go—said the twins needed her. So you don’t have to worry. Said she wouldn’t go until the twins were able to get on without her, and the way I see it, they never will be. Very attached to her.”
Sky began to pace. So it was true—this Dartford fellow had come to steal his darling, his very own …? He couldn’t, wouldn’t put the word to that sentence. Was he wrong to want to keep her? Dartford was titled; he was young and wealthy and could take care of her.
He had found nothing about a young woman by the name of Sarah Parker, other than the Parker family was one very respected. Country gentry. Dartford had no doubt offered her marriage. It was the only thing he would offer in front of Freddy and the twins. Marriage … a thing Sky could not offer because he had virtually promised himself elsewhere.
Cherry was going to be lost to him. With this burning notion in his brain he made his way to the stairs, turning only once to note to himself that his brother had a very odd smile crossing his face. He ignored it because he was going to damn well join the party in the schoolroom.
* * *
The twins were quietly working on a writing assignment when James appeared and cocked a brow, indicating to Cherry that he wanted private speech with her. She went with him into the hall and whispered, “What is it, James? You have been acting oddly since yesterday.”
“Cherry—we need to talk. There is something you have to know.”
“Now?” She was surprised.
“Obviously we can’t talk … really talk right now, but soon, very soon. There is something I must tell you, for if I don’t, I think you might kill me, and rightly so.”
“James …” She put her hand on his arm. “What is the matter? You had better give me a clue as to what this is all about.”
The sound of approaching footsteps brought both their heads around. They looked guilty as hell, and Cherry knew it. Talking secrets always made one look anxious and guilty.
Sky’s temper displayed itself on his face and in his movements as Cherry watched him. This was confirmed to her by his voice, hard and dry. “Do I intrude?”
“Not at all,” Cherry returned hurriedly, perhaps too sharply. “James was just taking his leave of me. Weren’t you, James?”
“Aye, aye … till later then.” He started down the hallways, but it appeared to both Cherry and Lord Westbrooke that James had the look of a man who felt as though he had left something in the wind. His steps were precise and slow, as though he had a great deal on his mind.
Cherry suddenly said, “Excuse me, my lord … I just remembered something I want to tell Lord Dartford before he leaves.” She rushed after James and stopped him at the head of the stairs to whisper, “I shall meet you at the spinney near your inn at five o’clock.”
“Right. Good girl,” he said, obviously pleased with the plan.
Cherry turned and walked back towards the schoolroom, all too aware that Sky’s luscious blue eyes watched her every move. She gulped like a child about to face an irate parent. He had such power over her senses—all her senses. She managed to deliver a half-smile and said, “Did you come up here to see me, my lord?”
“Indeed, I thought I did,” he answered coldly. “However, I find that you are busy, and whatever I wanted … no longer seems important.” He turned away from her and started off.
This was not what she wanted … a little jealousy to wake him up to what he wanted, well, yes, but so jealous that he was able to walk away from her? Oh, no.