Oh, Cherry Ripe

“No, but you can give me some straight answers.”

“Can I?”

“Dartford, I am aware that you left with Miss Cherry … and I am here to bring her back to Bromley.”

“Are you?” James smiled kindly. “She doesn’t wish to go back at this time.”

“What does she wish? To remain in London … with you?” Sky felt his heart stop as he waited for the answer.

“Not precisely,” James answered evasively.

“Dartford, look … I … I care for her … a great deal. When she left it was because I led her to believe that … that I was only interested in making her my mistress.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes, no—damnation, man … I was, but now—”

“My Lord Westbrooke, I care for Cherry—and I’m telling you that you cannot make her anything while you are engaged to marry Miss Elton, who by the way is also a very dear friend.”

Sky was silenced for a moment as he ran his hand through his thick black hair and sighed. “I was forgetting that. Never mind it—I intend to withdraw my offer for the Elton chit. The arrangement was never concluded as she fell ill, the banns were never posted, the settlement never signed. Miss Elton and I have never met …”

“Good God! You were going to marry a woman you had never met? I can’t conceive of such a thing. Can’t conceive of marriage for that matter …” James mused out loud.

“Only tell me where I might find Miss Cherry. I must speak with her.”

“I will, but only after you have settled your affairs with Miss Elton,” James offered gently.

Sky noticed the twinkle in Dartford’s eye and wondered at it, but he dismissed it as he realized the man was right. “At this hour?” he said out loud. He felt as though he was somehow being manipulated and didn’t like it. “I don’t know that L

ady Elton will receive me at this hour.”

“It is Miss Elton you have to see, not her ladyship,” James said firmly.

“Yes, but she is ill …”

“No longer,” James answered.

“Devil you say! How do you happen to know this?” Sky studied James thoughtfully. Something very odd infused all this, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“Because I paid her a morning visit, and she was quite well.”

“Right then. As you say, I will go and tidy up my affairs, but, Dartford, when I return—no more games. I will have Cherry’s direction.”

“As you say—after you visit Miss Elton, there should be no more games,” James replied, a soft smile curving his lips.

* * *

Cherry pushed away her tea and cake, for she felt restless. She took a tour of the room, swishing the skirts of her pretty yellow day gown. She went to the mirror and played with the dark curls bobbing about her face and wondered what Sky was doing. Did he miss her? Would he come for her as she had planned and hoped?

“Lord Skyler Westbrooke,” the butler announced at the parlor door. She caught her breath and composed herself. He was here. He was actually here.

Sky came in and stopped short. His hat was already off, and he dropped it and left it where it fell. He stuttered her name, took a step forward, then stopped, and said her name again. “Cherry … I don’t understand—not any of it.”

“No, of course you don’t. What are you doing here, my lord?” Cherry attempted sangfroid, but her heart was beating tremulously.

“I came here to see Miss Elton … to explain that I can’t marry her.” He frowned. “Cherry … love, are you related to Miss Elton?”

“You can’t marry Miss Elton?” Cherry clucked her tongue. “Oh dear, just when I was getting used to the idea. Hmmm, in fact, I rather thought I should enjoy being your wife.”