Starcross Lovers

by Merry Farmer

  “What happened?” Poppy asked, jumping up from the corner of the table in the servant’s hall as Ginny strode past. “You were in the stable for a long time.”

  “I had to help Harry with something,” she said, picking up her pace and all but running toward the stairs.

  “Is that his shirt?” Poppy asked, following.

  “No.” It was an obvious lie, but Ginny couldn’t stop and explain the truth. She made it to the stairs and sprinted up to her room.

  As soon as she was safe behind her closed door, she pressed her back against it, slapped a hand to her throbbing heart, and burst into laughter. She couldn’t believe how naughty she and Harry had been. Or how blissfully wonderful it had been to finally be with him that way. She let out an impassioned moan, clutching her fist in the fabric of his shirt. It smelled like him. All she wanted was to be back in his bed again, without clothes, doing everything they’d done and more. She’d marry him in a heartbeat. As soon as he asked.

  But he didn’t ask when she saw him as she passed through the courtyard on her way to the garden to help Lady Mariah and Miss Victoria with tea later. Not that he could have, seeing as though they were both working. He didn’t seek her out to propose that night either. Although that could easily have been because of the rigmarole of Lord Peter and Lady Mariah hosting a few of the neighbors for supper. And he didn’t propose when she saw him just after breakfast the next morning. But at least the rest of the household, Mrs. Wilson in particular, didn’t seem any wiser about what had happened. It wasn’t until noon that Ginny stopped looking over her shoulder every three seconds, wondering if she were about to be handed her walking papers.

  By mid-afternoon, she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t just walk into the stable, throw her arms around Harry, and tell him that she accepted his proposal, whether it had been made or not. The only thing that stopped her from the rash course of action was the wagon that pulled into the kitchen courtyard as she dawdled near the kitchen door, working up the nerve to make her move. The wagon contained an inordinate amount of baggage, along with Millie Llewellyn.

  “Millie, what are you doing here?” Ginny stepped out into the courtyard at last, more relieved to see her old friend than she would have expected.

  The wagon rolled to a stop, and Millie hopped down from the back, her baby in her arms. “I came up to see if Mrs. Harmon would part with her recipe for sauerkraut,” Millie told her, shifting baby Lowry to her shoulder.

  “I’m sure she would.” Ginny closed the gap between them, leaning in close, ostensibly to look at Lowry. “I have something I need to tell you,” she whispered. She couldn’t have kept the glowing, guilty smile off her face if she’d tried.

  “Oh?” Millie brightened, stepping away from the wagon with her as the driver edged past them and began unloading the baggage from the wagon’s bed.

  “It’s about me and Harry,” Ginny whispered so that the driver couldn’t hear, heat suffusing her cheeks.

  “Really?” Millie’s eyes went bright. “Did he declare himself at last?”

  “Yes,” Ginny sighed. “Well, in a manner of speaking. He didn’t exactly use words, but the intent was clear enough.”

  “What do you mean?” Judging by Millie’s tone, she knew exactly what Ginny meant. Millie had enough experience with relations between men and women from her former life in the American West to understand completely.

  Ginny started from the beginning. “Stephen Adler came by yesterday to propose to me.”

  Millie blinked. “That certainly isn’t how I expected a story about Harry to start.”

  Ginny waved away her surprise, focusing on what really mattered. “Harry saw me kiss him—”

  “You kissed Mr. Adler?”

  “Will you let me tell the story?” Ginny burst, half frustrated, half laughing.

  “Go on, go on,” Millie urged her. The wagon driver grinned at the two of them as he tugged a trunk to the end of the wagon bed.

  Ginny half turned away from him so that he wouldn’t overhear. “I only kissed Stephen to see if there could ever be any spark between us, and there most definitely wasn’t.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Millie said.

  “But Harry saw it. He saw Stephen down on one knee, and I suppose he got upset. He stormed off into the stable to stew, but I chased after him.”

  Millie blinked. “You chased after him? What did you do with Mr. Adler?”

  “Nothing.” Ginny shrugged. “I suppose he left. Because after I went into the stable, up to Harry’s room, I didn’t come out for quite some time.” Her grin grew downright wicked, and she was sure her face burned like a beacon.

  “No!” Millie gasped, then burst into a fit of giggles.

  “’Scuse me.” The wagon driver, cut around them again, a heavy trunk in his arms. He set it down by the door to the kitchen, then came back for two more suitcases. His work had the effect of yanking Ginny right out of the story she was trying to share with her friend.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, planting her fists on her hips and frowning at the luggage.

  “Apparently, it belongs to Miss Victoria Travers,” Millie told her. “It had just arrived at the train station, and Tom here said I could hitch a ride as he drove it out to Starcross.”

  Ginny glanced at the luggage and, inspired by her sense of duty to Miss Victoria, moved to help the wagon driver carry the rest of it to the growing pile by the door. Millie followed her as she worked, rocking Lowry gently.

  “So what are you and Harry planning to do next?” she asked as they came near to the kitchen door.

  “I’m going to marry him, of course,” Ginny said, the idea filling her with warmth and light. The wagon driver set a particularly large carpetbag on the pile and paused to stretch his back.

  “That’s a massive step,” Millie said.

  “I know, but I’m so ready for it.” She sighed, too happy to bother that the wagon driver could hear everything she said. “I never dreamed that I would be this lucky, but I swear there is no better man on earth.”

  “Everyone admires him,” Millie said. “And I’m sure Lady Mariah won’t mind you leaving her service to marry someone who has been so instrumental to Starcross Castle.”

  “I hadn’t even thought about leaving Lady Mariah,” Ginny said, biting her lip.

  Millie laughed. “Well you’d have to, wouldn’t you?” She glanced to the wagon driver, then leaned in closer to whisper, “Knowing you and Harry, you’ll be popping with babies in no time.”

  The wagon driver headed back to fetch the last of the luggage, so Ginny grinned and answered, “We certainly will if I have anything to do about it.”

  They shared a laugh before Ginny turned her attention to the luggage. “I wonder if Miss Victoria was expecting all of this. I suppose it means she’ll be moving in here permanently.”

  “I think Lady Mariah would like that,” Millie said. “Although if all the rumors I’ve heard are true, you’d think that Miss Victoria would want to get as far away from Starcross as possible.” Millie tilted her head to the side and blinked. “I wonder if she would be interested in marrying Mr. Adler?”

  “Miss Victoria?” Ginny laughed. “Heavens, no. Her and Lady Mariah’s father is an MP.” She spotted the wagon driver heading their way and busied herself shifting some of the luggage around so he would have someplace to put the stack of hatboxes in his arms. “Then again, Australia would be the perfect escape from the kind of heartbreak and scandal that—” She pressed her lips shut as the wagon driver reached them, and helped upload the hatboxes. “Well, Australia would be an ideal place to start over with a clean slate,” she finished.

  “There you go, Miss Davis.” The wagon driver touched the brim of his hat and nodded. “Thanks for your help.”

  “My pleasure, Tom. Miss Victoria will be happy to have her things. Do you want me to find Mr. Snyder to give you a bob or two for delivering the luggage?” Ginny asked.

  “No need. He paid me
in advance,” Tom said. “But is Harry around? I’d like him to take a look at Bessie’s shoe before I head back into town.”

  “I think he’s in the stable,” Ginny said. The very thought of Harry hard at work, possibly dreaming up ways to propose to her, made her dizzy.

  “I’ll just pop in there before I go.” Tom touched his hat again, then strode off to his wagon, taking his horse and leading it to the stable door.

  “I hope Harry has time to propose soon,” Ginny sighed. “After what we experienced together, I don’t think I want to wait long to be his wife.”

  “Rev. Hassett will be reading the bans in church in no time,” Millie said, giving her arm a squeeze. “Now, do you want me to help you carry any of these things inside?”

  “Heavens no. I’ll have the footmen do it.” She added a bold shrug to her words. Knowing that things were finally going to turn out well for her made her feel more powerful than she’d ever felt.

  If Harry didn’t find a way to get Ginny in his bed again soon, he was likely to go mad. He couldn’t concentrate on even the simplest tasks, and hadn’t been able to since finally becoming one with her.

  “Uh, Mr. Pond, didn’t you already feed Charger his oats?” Jimmy asked as Harry poured more into the bucket hanging inside Charger’s stall.

  “Did I?” Harry shrugged and tossed the scoop back into the barrel of oats. “Lucky devil,” he told Charger. He felt like the luckiest devil alive himself.

  That sense of elation stayed with him right up until Tom Wagner stepped into the stable doorway with Bessie and his rig at his side. “Hello, Harry,” Tom greeted him.

  “Tom.” Harry left what he was doing to stride over and take Tom’s hand. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was hoping you could take a look at Bessie’s hoof before I head back into town. She was favoring it on the way over.”

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Together, Tom and Harry unhitched Bessie, then brought her into the stable. While Tom held her still, Harry lifted the foot in question to get a look.

  “Sounds like young Ginny’s had a good summer.” Tom struck up a conversation.

  Harry tried not to let his smile grow too obvious as he located a small pebble in Bessie’s shoe and reached for a tool to set it free. “I suppose you could say she has.”

  “I’ve always thought she’d make some man a good wife someday,” Tom went on. “That Mr. Adler is a lucky bloke.”

  Harry fumbled his tool, and Bessie snorted in reply. “Adler?” Harry’s gut clenched, but he forced himself to focus on his work.

  “Yeah.” Tom gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Ginny and Mrs. Llewellyn were just talking about it out there.”

  Harry shot a quick look up at Tom. “What were they talking about.”

  “Marriage.” Tom shrugged. “Ginny told Mrs. Llewellyn she had some exciting news. There was a lot of whispering and giggling. You know, like women do.”

  “They could have been talking about anything,” Harry growled, hoping Tom would think he was concentrating on Bessie’s hoof and not ready to fly into a rage. Ginny couldn’t still be marrying Adler. Not after everything that had happened between them. They’d made love, for God’s sake. He’d spilled his seed inside of her without any concern over whether she would end up pregnant.

  But had that been the sacred moment that he’d assumed it was, or was it simply the culmination of the years-long flirtation they’d been engaged in before she ran off to marry a better man than him?

  “I didn’t hear the whole conversation,” Tom went on, “but we all know that Ginny’s been walking out with that Mr. Adler. And she mentioned Australia and leaving Lady Mariah’s service.”

  Tom could have punched him in the gut and it would have hurt less. The pebble in Bessie’s shoe popped loose, but Harry couldn’t move or breathe. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Ginny loved him. She wouldn’t ever run off and marry someone else, especially not now.

  He ran through the events of the day before. He’d seen Adler propose, and he’d seen Ginny kiss him. If that wasn’t an acceptance of a proposal, he didn’t know what was. Adler had been gone by the time he’d straightened up and poked his head out of the stable after Ginny left. No man would simply leave in the middle of a proposal unless he’d already gotten the answer he was after. Which meant that Ginny had spread her legs for him knowing full well she was going to marry another man. And flee to the other side of the world. To top it off, Ginny hadn’t made a single attempt to steal another moment with him since they were together. He’d barely seen her. Like she’d had what she wanted and tossed him aside.

  “Everything all right there?” Tom asked.

  Harry had been silent for too long. He rocked back from Bessie, letting her foot go, and standing. “Everything’s fine,” he said, his voice hoarse. It was the boldest lie he’d ever told.

  Without saying goodbye to Tom or helping him hitch Bessie back to her wagon, he marched out of the stable and into the courtyard. Ginny was still there, directing the footmen to deal with the luggage that Tom had dropped off. Fury made his steps wide and fast, and in no time, he reached her, clamping his hand around her arm.

  “Harry, you—ouch.” Ginny’s elated smile crumpled to confusion, but Harry wasn’t about to be fooled. Not again.

  He pulled her off to the side, not caring if she stumbled on the cobblestones, until they were out of earshot of the rest of the staff.

  “How could you?” he seethed, glaring at her, his face mere inches from hers. “After what we shared, how could you?”

  “How could I what?” Her confusion morphed quickly into anger that matched his own. “Why are you all worked up?”

  “Because you’re a lying whore,” he hissed. It killed part of him to make the accusation, but that part had already withered with the possibility that it was true. He’d given Ginny his heart, and she’d stomped on it like it meant nothing.

  Instead of admitting to her guilt, she slapped him across the face. “How dare you?”

  He wasn’t ready for the blow, and it startled him. He stumbled back a step, raising a hand to his face. A kernel of doubt sprouted in his heart. It could have been a misunderstanding. Tom could have heard wrong. But Harry had spent so long convinced that Ginny wanted something better than him that it was easy to believe his insecurities, rather than his hopes and dreams.

  Warily, he said, “Tom just told me—”

  “No.” She stomped her foot, balling her hands into fists. “I don’t want to listen to any pitiful excuse from you. I refuse to hear you justify calling me that filthy name when you are the only man I have ever given myself to. You are the only man I have ever loved. But it seems that love has been wasted on a boorish, jealous fool, and I refuse to hear any more from you.”

  “I…but….” Harry gaped, feeling as though the ground he stood on had turned to quicksand.

  “I deserve better than this, Harry Pond,” she shouted, tears coming to her eyes. “I deserve better than a man who tempts me into elation one minute, only to hurl foul accusations at me the next. I’ve spent years waiting for you to see me as something more than a bit of fun, and now I realize that I never will.” She burst into a sob as she finished, but recovered quickly enough to slap him a second time, then turn and dash off toward the archway leading to the garden.

  Harry stood where he was, mouth open, face throbbing. The footmen who were taking the luggage inside looked on with wide eyes. Across the courtyard, Tom blinked as though he didn’t believe what he’d just seen. Harry didn’t believe it himself. He didn’t believe that he’d been so stupid as to charge at Ginny with accusations instead of making reasonable inquiries, that he’d let what amounted to his own insecurity cause him to make the biggest mistake of his life. He didn’t believe he’d let her go without dropping to his knees and begging forgiveness.

  But as the muddle of the confrontation began to untangle itself in his head, more than anything, he couldn’t believe that Ginny had s
aid she loved him.

  Chapter 9

  Ginny expected the rage that had exploded through her at Harry’s accusations to lodge firmly inside of her and never let go. But by the time she cried herself out in Lady Anne’s memorial garden, draped over the former mistress of Starcross Castle’s tomb like a heroine in a gothic novel, all that remained was a dark, gaping emptiness where all the emotion Ginny had felt for Harry once lived. Just as she’d always suspected, he thought she was a whore. And fool that she was, she’d behaved like one.

  It was surprisingly hard to drag herself out of Lady Anne’s garden, to dry her eyes and cool her face before returning to work. It was her own fault. She’d let her heart overrun her good sense, and she was paying the price. She forced herself to hold her head high, to put on a smile, and to head upstairs to help Lady Mariah, Poppy, and Miss Victoria unpack the trunks and cases that had been sent by Miss Victoria’s parents.

  And yet, even as she went through the motions and made herself coo and sigh over the beautiful things Miss Victoria owned, her thoughts flew back to Harry. He was everything she’d thought she wanted. They’d been such good friends. And as bittersweet as it was, the consummation of their flirtations had been glorious. The memories were both beautiful and painful.

  “Ginny, are you feeling well?” Lady Mariah asked after Ginny spent far too long staring at a single dancing shoe without putting it away.

  Ginny sucked in a breath and shook her head. “I’m sorry, my lady?”

  Lady Mariah’s expression was concerned and tender. She took the shoe from Ginny, handed it to Miss Victoria, and put her arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “You look pale. Why don’t you take the afternoon off to nap?”

  “I’m fine, my lady,” Ginny insisted. But the moment she met her mistress’s eyes, she couldn’t stop herself from tearing up. “Really, I’m fine.” Her voice was high and wispy.

  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.