by Merry Farmer
Lady Mariah glanced over her shoulder to Miss Victoria, then steered Ginny out of the dressing room and into Miss Victoria’s bedroom. She seated Ginny in the dramatic chaise lounge that Miss Victoria had had moved up to her room from a seldom-used parlor downstairs.
“Is it Mr. Pond?” Lady Mariah whispered.
Ginny squeezed her eyes closed, her face pinching with misery, and nodded.
“Did he say something to upset you?” Lady Mariah asked on.
If she told her mistress the whole story, there was a chance she would be dismissed. She didn’t think Lady Mariah would sack her, but if Mrs. Wilson found out, she might insist on it. So instead of details, Ginny said, “I thought he loved me. I thought we’d finally reached an understanding. But I was wrong.”
Lady Mariah rubbed her back, humming in sympathy. “Whatever was said, maybe Mr. Pond didn’t mean it. Maybe there’s a way to smooth things over.”
Ginny shook her head hard. “He insulted me, my lady. Worse than I’ve ever been insulted before. And he should know better than to call me those things. He should know better.” Her throat squeezed, making it impossible to say more. She gripped fistfuls of her skirt to keep herself from bursting into sobs.
“Well,” Lady Mariah began slowly, still rubbing Ginny’s back, “I’m sure whatever he said, he didn’t mean it. Lord Peter and I have talked about it, and he agrees that the two of you are perfectly suited for one another, and that Mr. Pond has harbored affection for you for years.”
Ginny snorted. “Tell that to Harry.”
Lady Mariah let out a sad breath.
“The thing is,” Ginny went on, loathing everything she was about to say, “I think I have to marry Mr. Adler now.”
“What?” Lady Mariah sat straighter, her hand stilling on Ginny’s back. “He proposed?”
Ginny nodded. “And I have to accept him.”
“But why, if you love Mr. Pond the way I know you do?”
If she hadn’t felt so defeated already, Ginny would have risked telling there was a chance, albeit a small one, that she could have become pregnant with Harry’s child, but instead she said, “I can’t bear to be around Harry now. Not after everything he said. Not knowing what he thinks of me. I have to go away.”
Lady Mariah bit her lip and took Ginny’s hand. “If you feel that’s what you must do, I will support you. But I do wish you’d stay. I love having you as my maid, and…and as my friend.”
The show of support should have thrilled Ginny. But instead, it only broke her heart more. There was no good way for the mess she’d found herself in to end. One way or another, she was going to lose everything.
“I think I will go lie down, my lady,” she said, standing. “If that’s all right with you.”
“Of course it is.” Lady Mariah stood with her. “But don’t give up all hope yet. I may not have much experience with men, but misunderstandings and bickering do happen, even with the most devoted couples.” She blushed and glanced down, making Ginny curious about what kind of arguments she and Lord Peter could have gotten into. When Lady Mariah looked up again, she said, “Perhaps Mr. Pond merely felt threatened by Mr. Adler and was actually hurt instead of angry with you. If the two of you could sit down and talk, sort things out….”
Ginny shook her head. “It’s no use. Harry thinks badly of me, and I’m afraid he always has.”
“I can’t imagine—”
Before Lady Mariah could finish, Ginny bolted past her, fleeing to the hall. She couldn’t hear anyone defending Harry or his actions. Mostly because, in her heart, she was defending him against her better judgment and hurt feelings. He could have been hurt if Tom had told him something false. But that didn’t justify throwing her aside after they’d shared something so intimate.
The feelings of misery and failure didn’t go away with a nap. They didn’t suddenly vanish overnight either. Or for three days. In fact, with every day that Harry didn’t come to her to apologize, the gaping, hollow feeling in Ginny’s chest widened. She was consoled somewhat when she discovered that one of the reasons Harry hadn’t come to her was because he’d barely been at Starcross Castle for two minutes on end. The buildings at the mine needed to be completed before the new mine was to be opened on the following Monday, and Lord Peter had asked that every able-bodied man pitch in to help meet the deadline.
The mine opening itself was as grand an event as Christmas. Practically everyone from Starcross Castle got up bright and early to walk or ride in wagons down to the site. In the short time since Ginny had been there, the area of the mine had been transformed. Buildings that were half-finished the last time she’d seen them stood solid and complete. Everyone who had anything to do with Starcross or the mines was there. That included Harry.
Ginny hadn’t seen him for days, but as she stepped down from Lady Mariah’s carriage, she glanced across the valley, buzzing with activity, and found Harry standing there, staring at her. There were dozens of yards between them, but it was as if the world were empty, but for the two of them. He looked tired and sallow, and he hadn’t shaved, but his eyes blazed with what could have been regret and hope. Ginny’s heart twisted in her chest.
“My dear Ginny.” Stephen’s voice by her side jerked Ginny out of the misery of seeing Harry as if he’d grabbed her arm and shook her.
“Stephen?” she gasped, clasping a hand to her chest. She glanced back to Harry, but he was gone. Her chest ached harder. She blinked rapidly, turning back to Stephen. “What are you doing here?”
Stephen’s brow furrowed. “It’s the mine opening. Of course I’d be here.”
“Oh. Of course.” She cleared her throat, taking a half step toward the carriage door, where Christopher, looking sharp in his new head footman livery, was helping Lady Mariah down. “My lady, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing at the moment,” Lady Mariah said, glancing significantly to Stephen. “Feel free to go lend your help wherever you were planning to.”
It was as much an order to take the opportunity to sort out her conundrum as could be given. “Yes, my lady.” Ginny sighed and turned back to Stephen. “We should probably talk.”
“Yes, I was hoping we might.” Stephen took her arm and led her down into the thick of the activity.
The miners were dressed for work and beginning to gather at the cave, which had been expanded in the last few days as the initial digging was done. A variety of miner’s wives and children had set up in a tent on the far side of the site and were serving refreshments and tending to everything from sewing buttons to helping with last-minute construction projects. Not all of the buildings were finished, and the men who weren’t miners were still hard at work building walls and nailing together timber frames. Stephen escorted Ginny toward the tent where the women were working.
“It’s a shame that it looks like rain,” Stephen said. His tone was conversational, but he wore a pinched frown.
Ginny glanced up. Indeed, the sky was darkening, and sheets of rain were already visible in the distance, past the edge of the cliff and out to sea. They would all be soaked within an hour or so.
“Still, that won’t stop the mine,” Stephen said.
“I should think not,” Ginny said, distracted. She’d caught a glimpse of Harry wielding a hammer and helping with one of the buildings still under construction. Her heart gave a pitiful lurch, and her eyes stung more than they should have.
Stephen stopped. “Look, I know that you’re in love with him.”
Startled, Ginny blinked rapidly and turned to Stephen. “What? I—”
“You are.” Stephen sighed. “And though it probably makes me a blackguard and a rogue, I still want to marry you, if you’re interested.” Ginny lowered her eyes. Stephen was silent for a moment, studying her. “You never gave me an answer when I proposed the other day. You rushed after him instead. And it doesn’t take a fool to see you’ve had a falling out with him.”
Ginny felt heat rush to her face, but she couldn’t answer or
look at Stephen.
“I understand how these things go. I had a sweetheart once whom I loved very much.” She glanced up at him then, intrigued by the sorrow in his eyes. “For various reasons, it didn’t work out, and she married someone else. It was painful, but I’d like to think…I’d like to think that the experience has prepared me to be a good husband to whomever I will be lucky enough to entice into marriage.”
Ginny’s heart ached harder. It wasn’t just Harry that mixed her up and left her dizzy with confusion. Stephen really would make a good husband. He would be thoughtful and considerate. But there still wasn’t an ounce of passion between them.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right away,” he said with a soft smile. “But I am leaving for Australia in four days.”
“So soon?” Ginny’s pulse sped up with panic. “I thought you had a fortnight.”
“I’ve changed my plans. But don’t let that influence you. Think as much as you’d like. You know where to find me when you have an answer.” He let go of her arm, then stepped back, nodding and touching the brim of his hat.
Ginny raised a hand to wave goodbye as he turned and marched toward the mine opening, then pivoted to make her way to the tent with the other women. The wind picked up as she walked, and she felt a few, small raindrops hit her cheek. Life simply couldn’t make things easy for her. She was being forced to choose between a sensible, kind man for whom she didn’t feel a lick of excitement and a man who was so passionate that the electricity between them was destructive.
“You look like you’re the one responsible for this weather,” Millie greeted her when she entered the tent.
Ginny sent her friend a weary look, but didn’t reply. There was nothing left to say. And as comforting as it was to have friends by her side, she had to figure things out on her own.
The morning passed in a buzz of activity. A constant stream of people came through the tent, either for refreshments, to have small wounds tended to, or simply to get out of the rain as it picked up, along with the wind, and lashed the workers. Ginny dropped what she was doing at one point to check on Lady Mariah, but was told that her mistress had already returned to Starcross Castle, on Lord Peter’s insistence, to get out of the weather.
As she rushed back into the tent to continue working, she ran smack into Harry. The grass was slippery with rain, and as she lost her balance, he caught her. For a moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist as the heat of his body enveloped her. They were both soaked, but it wasn’t until she realized he was mostly holding her with one arm that she realized he’d hurt his hand.
“What happened?” she asked, struggling out of his grip and taking his hand. A crude bandage had been wrapped around it.
“The hammer slipped.” It was his only explanation, but the quiet guilt in his tone said so much more.
Ginny glanced up into his eyes. There was pain there, but also a kind of resignation that sent chills down her spine. “Let’s get you fixed up, then.”
She marched ahead of him, through the noisy, crowded tent to the corner where medical supplies were being kept. She knew nothing about nursing or pounded fingers, but she wasn’t about to let anyone else tend to Harry. Daft and infuriating though he was, he was hers to take care of and hers alone.
Without a word, she grabbed his hand and removed the makeshift bandage. Relief spilled through her as his wound was revealed to be nothing more than a colossal bruise and a tiny cut.
“You should be more careful,” she snapped, taking some of the salve from a jar on the table beside her and rubbing it over his bruised thumb, perhaps a little harder than was warranted.
“I was distracted,” he said. “I saw you talking to Adler.”
Ginny’s nerves bristled. She set her jaw and glanced up at him. “So? That’s no reason to go hammering your thumb.”
The faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was enough to send swirls of longing through Ginny. And desire hard on its heels.
“You’ll be happy in Australia,” he said at last, barely more than a whisper.
Her jaw hardened even more, to the point of pain. She jerked the bandage so tight around his thumb that he winced. “That’s all you have to say to me?” she asked, her voice a squeak.
“What else is there to say?” He shrugged. “I’ve made a mess of things. What I said was unforgivable.”
“Yes, it was.” She jerked the bandage again as she tied it. Harry gritted his teeth. “But before you go banishing me to the wilds of Australia as the whore I am—” She lowered her voice to a whisper so that the people around them who were leaning in to listen couldn’t hear. “—you might try apologizing first.”
“I don’t think you’re a whore,” he whispered in return.
“No?” She threw his bandaged hand out of hers. “But that’s what you called me. That’s what you must think, after the way we’ve carried on all these years.”
“I don’t think that.”
“No wonder you never asked to marry me,” she went on, emotions making her reckless. “No wonder you dallied and fooled around, but never tried to make me an honest woman. You never thought I was an honest woman to begin with.”
“That’s not true.” He balked. Several people nearby made no attempts to hide that they were listening. Harry glanced to them, then leaned closer to her. “I wasn’t intimate with you because I thought you were loose or free with your favors.”
Ginny snorted. “I don’t believe you. I told myself for years that we had something special, that you had some other reason for not wanting more. You’ve proved me wrong.” She marched past him, not sure where she was heading, just so long as she wasn’t in the tent with that maddening man.
“Ginny!” Harry rushed after her. The crowd of people watching them grew larger, so Ginny headed for the tent’s flap. It might have been pouring rain outside, but it was better to get wet than to air her dirty laundry with Harry in front of half the population of Starcross Castle.
Things weren’t much better outside. With the rain lashing the landscape, even the most dedicated workers were sticking close to the finished buildings and the tent. Ginny made a beeline away from the bulk of people to the nearest empty area she could see, not caring where it was.
“Ginny, wait!” Harry called after her.
“I’m through talking to you,” she called over her shoulder as she neared the edge of the cliff. She stayed well away from the edge, but that meant she had nowhere left to go and nothing she could do but turn to face him.
“This whole disaster happened because we didn’t stop to talk to each other in the first place,” Harry shouted as he drew near.
A twist of guilt turned Ginny’s stomach. He was right. If they’d said what they each thought from the very beginning, if they’d spent more time being clear with each other instead of getting caught up in how blissful it felt to touch and kiss and experience pleasure together, they might have sorted things out long ago.
“Fine,” she said, half to him and half to the voice of sense in her head. “You want me to talk? I’ll talk. I love you, Harry Pond. And I always have. I love the way you make me feel, but I love you for the man that you are too. Only, all this time, I’ve convinced myself that you didn’t see me as more than a lightskirt, someone you could have your fun with then toss aside.”
“That’s not true,” he said, gaping. “That’s never been true.”
“No?” She shifted restlessly on her spot, hugging herself as the rain soaked her through and emotions ranging from joy to confusion to anger for so much wasted time muddled her thinking. “Then why did you never say anything, never ask to walk out with me? Why did you never ask for more?”
“I…I thought that I was asking for more by doing more and more intimate things,” he said, his face red in spite of the rain.
His hair dripped across his forehead, and watching him push it back filled Ginny with ripples of desire. Even now, she wanted him.
“I did
n’t think you wanted me,” he went on, wincing as he spoke. “You’ve always been so ambitious, always wanting to better yourself. I thought you wanted to go to London, see the world.” He threw his hand out toward the mine entrance. “Marry up and go to Australia.”
“How could you possibly think that?” Anger grasped for the uppermost spot in the maelstrom of emotions that were gripping her. “Yes, I love my job. I love Lady Mariah. And of course I’ve wanted to make a better life for myself than the squalor I was born into. But all I ever wanted was you, Harry. You’ve always been good enough for me.”
“So why are you shouting at me now?” he asked, taking a step toward her.
Ginny stepped back, still too frustrated to throw herself into her arms and pretend that everything was all right, and that he hadn’t hurt her deeply. Or she hurt him. “Because all this time, you’ve been thinking that I would toss you aside, as if I really was so much of a strumpet that the things between us meant nothing.”
“No, it’s not that.” He took another step toward her.
She stepped back once more. “It is. I love you, but you don’t believe in me.”
“I do believe in you, Ginny. More than you know. I…it’s myself I don’t believe in.”
It tore her apart to see Harry doubt himself. Strong, powerful Harry. Harry who could make her feel as though she were soaring on the wings of heaven. She wanted him to be as perfect as she’d always known he was, but he was just a man. A dear, flawed man with as little experience in love as she had.
“Harry,” she took a step toward him, but as she did, the ground shifted under her feet. Her body went rigid, and she glanced down to the grass. The rain poured around them, and with a sudden rumble, the ground where she stood cracked. “Harry!” she shouted, fear pushing all else aside.
She reached out, but it was too late, the edge of the cliff crumbled beneath her and the world was upended as she tumbled down.