“Tonight, Colin.”
Ginny did find Miss Jones, sitting alone in the library, with a large tome on her lap. As soon as she entered, Sarah looked up, a leery look in her eyes until she saw it was Ginny. Relaxing again, she closed the book and set it aside.
“I thought we could take tea in here today. I'm not in much of a mood for a crowd, are you?” Ginny certainly already knew the answer.
“That would be lovely.”
Ginny left to inform a footman to have tea brought for them in the library. Returning, she took the chair opposite Sarah, sitting down and adjusting her many layers.
“What were you reading?”
“A book about horticulture. I have been wandering Lord Whitmore's gardens and have become quite interested in his many forms of flora. I have been trying to identify some of the species.”
“Why don't you just ask Lord Whitmore? He loves talking about his gardens.”
“That would not be proper. He is most kind to allow me to stay here as I make inquiries for new positions. If I do not find a position in the next couple of weeks, I will travel to my sister's house and continue my search there. I would not impose on Lord Whitmore when he is being so kind.”
“That's preposterous. Lord Whitmore is proper, certainly, but he wouldn't have any issue talking about his gardens with anyone. I even heard one of the maids discussing some flowers with him because her mother keeps a modest garden at their home.”
“Perhaps.” Sarah seemed to be steeling herself to ask a question. “I do not wish to be impertinent. I was wondering if you and Lord Whitmore were soon to be... betrothed.”
“I can understand why you would think that, but no, we're just friends. We're both early risers and often have breakfast together. Since most everyone else doesn't rise until late morning, he usually walks with me around his gardens.”
“Oh. I have noticed how he looks at you sometimes. It seemed he was... admiring you.”
“I like to think he does. I'm a pretty interesting person,” Ginny said smiling to show her jest.
“Indeed you are, Bethany.”
A footman entered a moment later with a tray laden with a teapot, cups and some cakes. Sarah poured the tea and the two women continued to chat about this and that. Sarah was intelligent, having read a great deal to escape the tedium of caring for someone else's children. It occurred to Ginny that maybe she would be a perfect match for Dr. Cummings. It would also take one man off her list of potential suitors and narrow the playing field.
Tying in her thoughts to the subject at hand, Ginny mentioned, “I was just speaking to Dr. Cummings about that the other day. A delightful man, I say. So intelligent and handsome. He would make a good match for some young lady.”
“I am sure he would,” Sarah said catching on quickly. “Too bad I am not a young lady.”
“Sarah, you couldn't be more than thirty, for goodness sakes.”
“Too old to marry.”
“Are you telling me that women over the age of thirty are not allowed to marry?”
Bowing her head, refusing to look at her, she said, “No, of course not. But who would want to marry me. I have no dowry and I am no young débutante.”
“I would think any man with sense and intelligence would be very honored to marry you.” Now Ginny was even more determined to throw those two together. It would give Dr. Cummings a new life mate and it would give Sarah her own home and her own children. Seemed like a win-win to Ginny. Of course, it would be even better if they were compatible.
Chapter 10
At dinner, Ginny felt oddly nervous. Maybe it was Bethany coming out or maybe she was just being intuitive. Of course, the latter reason wouldn't become apparent until later. As if her stomach could take anything more, the main dish was mutton. The smell was atrocious and the look of the dish was even worse. Determined not to lose the contents of the other two courses, Ginny engaged herself in conversation with both her dinner partners: Lord Huntington on one side and Lady Olivia Cotsworth on the other. Lady Olivia was quite desperate to marry her daughter off. She was the last one left and Lady Olivia had plans for life after children.
During the meal, Ginny would occasionally look toward her host to see if he was as nervous as she was. Every time their eyes met, he looked serene, but his eyes spoke of something else. Maybe she was deluding herself, but could it be passion or the promise of it? She was half tempted to seductively lick her lips to unhinge him, but since she still needed his help, she decided against it.
The room was warm that night, with the combination of dozens of candles and bodies. The table was elegant though. Only the best china and silverware were used, crystal glasses and a large floral arrangement in the center of the table. Not that any of this crossed Ginny's mind, as she kept at reviewing her plan. It seemed foolproof, but only a fool believes that, so Ginny reviewed it again and again.
Lord Clarendon was seated down the table on the opposite side. Ginny chanced a glance at him, knowing any look she gave him would be construed as flirting. He was animated, telling a story to Miss Slowden-Plough, who was trying to stifle a burst of giggles. Clarendon glanced in her direction after a moment and met her eyes. There was nothing hidden there. He looked at her as if she were on a plate to be feasted upon.
After supper, the women withdrew to the drawing room, the men to the library. Ginny, whose stomach now felt as if a marching band was performing in it, walked over to her mother and said, “I need to freshen up, mother. I'll be back shortly.”
Barely acknowledging her, she replied, “Of course, Bethany.”
Ginny wandered down the hallway to the doors leading to the back terrace. From there, she walked down the stone staircase and entered the gardens. She'd already scoped out the Diana statue and knew the quickest path to it. Since no one was on that side of the house, she didn't need to be worried about being seen, but she kept to the shadows anyway.
As she approached the rendezvous point, she saw the faint glow of a cigar being smoked. Soon the smell filled her nose. It wasn't an unpleasant scent, actually it reminded Ginny of the cigars her father used to smoke. That reminder filled Ginny with a nearly overwhelming sense of homesickness. Pulling herself together, knowing she had a job to do, she continued on until she reached Lord Whitmore.
He turned suddenly at the sound of her approach. “Miss Hamilton.” He went about putting out his cigar and waving the remaining smoke from the air. Ginny sensed that he was nervous, like it was his first kiss too. Of course, it wasn't Ginny's first kiss, but it was Bethany's.
“Good evening, Colin.” Ginny felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden. Here was the man whom she dined with almost every morning and then spent a great deal of time wandering his gardens, walking through the woods or riding horses. So why was it now that she was filled with trepidation over a simple kiss. A kiss that would earn her twenty-five pounds and could be rubbed in the face of Lord Clarendon.
After taking care of his cigar, Colin turned toward her and asked, “How should we do this, do you think?” Colin had never felt so nervous in his life. God knew he had wanted to kiss this girl for days now, but wouldn't even consider it since he wouldn't marry her. Then, all of a sudden, she comes to him with this wager, offers him what he wanted, free and clear. But what if it wasn't free and clear? What if he found he didn't want to let her go?
“I would think that if you were clandestinely kissing me, it wouldn't be so out in the open. Maybe we should stand behind the statue, where not everyone might notice us.”
“Yes, I believe you are right.” Offering her his arm, she wrapped her hand into the crook and he escorted her behind the statue. He then grabbed her shoulders gently and moved her so if someone were to come around the statue, his body would be shielding hers. “This seem about right?” His voice was lower, deeper. Ginny felt her body respond to it.
Swallowing, she replied, “Yes, this will work.” Ginny was thankful for the darkness. That way, he couldn't see her blush.
&nbs
p; Colin reached up and brushed some strands of hair from her face. “Bethany, have you ever been kissed before?”
Ginny answered as Bethany when she said, “No.”
He stared into her eyes and offered, “Perhaps we should practice, so it looks realistic.”
Her heart was slamming in her chest. She remembered feeling this way before. It was how she felt when someone she liked wanted to kiss her. There was no doubt that Ginny liked Colin. He was astute and possessed an acerbic wit. All in all, he was someone she would choose to date, maybe even more than her usual three times.
“Yes, perhaps that would be a good idea.” She sounded strange to her own ears, fluttery and nervous. He had obviously picked it up, because he smiled knowingly.
The same hand he'd just used to brush her hair, reached up and cupped her cheek. Bending slowly, not wanting to scare her, he brushed his lips against hers. It was as gentle as a butterfly's wings. He pulled away and looked into her eyes. She stood still, looking glassy eyed. He wanted to make sure she wasn't scared.
Touching his lips to hers again, he began to nibble on the upper lip, then the lower one. His other hand cupped the other cheek and he deepened the kiss. Ginny was frozen in place, enjoying the sensations, but afraid to reveal just how much she knew about kissing. After releasing a small moan from the back of her throat, Colin felt his passiveness dissolve.
His voice was husky when he asked, “Bethany, open your mouth to me.”
Not thinking, only responding, she parted her lips. His tongue swept in and began to explore her mouth. Trying to think back to her first real kiss, she tentatively touched her tongue to his. She reached up and grabbed his arms and held on tight. Colin turned her head slightly, so he could bring their mouths closer together, extend his tongue further. Ginny finally gave in to the feeling and kissed him back. Suddenly, she wasn't at all certain if this one kiss wasn't going to lead to much, much more.
Leaving her lips, Colin began to kiss down the side of Ginny's neck. She could feel every kiss, knew when he used his tongue to taste her. It was more than just a kiss. It was erotic and captivating. Her nipples hardened against her clothing and that all too familiar warmth spread between her legs. She knew she should pull away, end this before it went too far, but at the moment, it was just too enjoyable.
The only sound was their breathing. Ginny felt like she was floating on an island, while Colin had more immediate concerns. His erection was pulsating to the rhythm of his heart. It was demanding equal attention, which Colin could not ever consider. This girl was innocent and he would not do something so heinous as steal her virtue. Still, the little voice in his head told him he could have her. The cost would be marriage, but there were less worthy girls than Miss Bethany Hamilton.
Suddenly, the silence was broken by someone clearing his throat. Ginny barely heard beyond her own heartbeat in her ears. She heard Colin say, “Go away, Clarendon.” It made her smile to think he now knew he'd lost.
“Lord Whitmore.”
Those two words were like ice water in Ginny's veins. She felt Colin stiffen and immediately stand up and turn around. She was still safely shielded from the onlookers, but knew the jig was up, so there was no use hiding. As she came around to stand next to Colin, she heard him say, “Mr. Hamilton.”
Oh, God, of all people, she thought hopelessly. Why the hell would Clarendon bring my father out with him. Inexplicably, Ginny could feel tears forming in her eyes. They were only kissing, but Ginny knew from Bethany's years of training that this was bad. Bad for both of them.
“Father, please allow me to explain.”
Staying eerily calm, Bethany's father spoke barely above a whisper. “Bethany, please go back to the house.”
“Please let me explain.” The tears were falling now and she knew it made her look more guilty. Of course, she was guilty. It was her stupid plan, her need for revenge that led to this.
“Bethany, you will go into the house and tell your mother you have a headache and ask her to assist you. Go to your room and I will meet you there shortly. Do you understand?” The look on her father's face quelled any argument.
Colin, without looking at her, keeping his eyes on her father, simply said, “Listen to your father, Bethany.”
“Perhaps, Lord Clarendon, you might escort my daughter back to the house.”
“Of course, sir. It would be my pleasure.” Clarendon extended his arm to her. Ginny took it without thinking and began to walk away. Every fiber of her being told her to stay and discuss what happened. It was silly that women were so sheltered that they couldn't even defend their own honor. But she also knew that neither man would listen to her. She would be dismissed, even if she stood there. Her fight would have to come later, after her father had his say with Lord Whitmore.
Twisting her anger away from herself, she snapped, “This is all your fault, you know.”
“My fault? How so?” Clarendon spoke with his usual casualness. It infuriated her even more.
“How so? Your damn bet is how so. If it weren't for you and your cronies betting on who would kiss me first, this wouldn't have happened.” She sounded down right shrewish and didn't particularly care.
“Oh, you know about that, do you?” he said in his easygoing tone.
“I set this up so Whitmore would win, you idiot. Which, by the way, he still did. I was trying to teach you a lesson about abusing other people's feelings. I can now see you are incapable of learning anything.” With that, Ginny removed her hand and walked the rest of the way alone. She was angry at Clarendon, but not nearly as angry as she was with herself. Before getting too far, Ginny turned and remarked in an icy tone, “If I find out that anyone knows about this, I will make you pay, Miles. Trust that I'm not someone you want as an enemy.” With that, she turned and ran up the stairs to the upper terrace, disappearing inside.
She did exactly what her father told her to do. Bethany's mother looked put out by the request, but didn't want to appear uncharitable to the other ladies. When they reached her room, Eugenia said, “Let me ring for Tabby.”
Before she could pull the bell, Ginny stopped her. “No, mother. I don't have a headache. Father told me to retire and bring you with me. He needs to speak to me in private.”
“Whatever for, darling?” Eugenia truly looked concerned, only now seeing the look on Ginny's face and realizing something had happened.
Hedging at first, she finally decided it didn't matter. Her mother would find out her side of the story, or hear only her father's version later. “Father caught me kissing Lord Whitmore in the garden.”
Instead of being angry, Bethany's mother looked ecstatic. “Really? Oh my. You will be married to an earl. It is beyond my hopes.” Her mother came over and hugged her tightly. The situation was taking on a surreal quality, which is pretty amazing considering the fact that she was a 21st century girl living in the early 1800's in a body not her own.
Pulling away from her mother, Ginny tried to explain. “Mother, there will be no wedding. I'm not marrying Lord Whitmore. He was only kissing me as a favor to me.”
Scrunching up her face, Eugenia looked confused. “A favor. Men do not kiss women as a... favor. Bethany, I know we haven't discussed relationships much, but he did not kiss you because you asked him to.”
Ginny knew she was right. If it was just a kiss to win a bet, it would have been short and sweet. There would not have been any need for “practicing” as Lord Whitmore had suggested. And there certainly wouldn't have been tongue. They both got caught up in a moment, a moment created by Ginny. She wasn't going to marry him over a moment. She should force Clarendon to marry her instead.
Knowing her mother was right, but still needing to explain, Ginny told her the entire story, including Whitmore's plans to travel and wait to marry. When finished, Bethany's mother, a seemingly cold and uncaring woman, took Ginny in her arms and cradled her comfortingly. For reasons she still couldn't understand, Ginny was crying. Part of it was Bethany, feeling like she'd
let her parents down. But part of it was Ginny, for having mucked up another perfectly contrived love story with her own arrogance and stupidity.
When her tears finally abated, her mother got up and pulled the bell pull. Tabby appeared a few minutes later. Seeing the look on Ginny's face, she immediately asked, “Miss, whatever is the matter?”
Before Ginny could answer, her mother said, “Tabby, fetch some cold compresses for Miss Hamilton. Oh and bring something for us to drink. Something strong.” Eugenia's eyebrow hitched up in explanation and Tabby nodded knowingly.
“Right away, madam.” Out the door Tabby went, quick as a bunny.
“Now, you need to lay down for a few moments, try and regain your composure.”
Yeah, sure, whatever. Ginny knew this was make believe, but she had hoped that if she could just follow the story this time, she could get her ticket home. Of course, that was just another theory that might not pan out, like alchemy or the four humors. The truth was, she had no idea how to get home.
After a few minutes, Tabby returned with her load and casually mentioned that she passed Lord Whitmore and Mr. Hamilton entering the study. Ginny heart dropped to her feet. She may not be all that familiar with her time period, but that smacked of deal making. And the only deal they could be making was her marriage.
Eugenia took the wet compress and pressed it against Ginny's eyes. Tabby poured two glasses of golden liquid and handed them to Eugenia. “Tabby, you may go. Bethany will ring you again when she is ready to retire.”
Before the little maid could leave, Ginny asked, “Tabby, see what the talk is, if there is any.”
“Of course, miss.” Then the door closed and they were alone again, waiting for news from her father.
“Sit up dear and drink this.” Ginny sat up against the headboard and took the glass from her mother. One sniff told her it was strong liquor, but she couldn't identify which one. So, using a talent born of too many college parties, Ginny tipped her head back and swallowed it in one big gulp. The burning sensation told her it was brandy.
A Lesson in Forgiveness Page 9