A Lesson in Friendship

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A Lesson in Friendship Page 10

by Jennifer Connors


  “No, Oliver, don't apologize. This whole thing is my fault and I should be thanking my lucky stars that you were here to save me. What would I have done otherwise? Dear God, I couldn't even move when I realized who it was. Ewww, ewww, ewww!” Ginny stood up, allowing her mask to fall to the floor, and began pacing between the chairs, brushing her arms as if to remove the imaginary bugs crawling up her skin.

  Downing the rest of her drink, Ginny took her seat again and began to wonder what he was doing at this party. Obviously she knew why he was there, but it seemed strange that he would seek out other attention after meeting the love of his life. Then again, Colby had slept with a prostitute after marrying her, so was this any different? If she wasn't willing to fulfill his need, then someone else was going to have to.

  “I just want you to know that I had no intention of... well, you know.”

  He gave her a half smile and asked, “No, I do not know.”

  Giving him a look of exasperation, but ruining it by smiling, she said, “I wouldn't have had sex with anyone tonight. I figured I would take a look around and then leave and get home before anyone found out. Pretty silly, huh?”

  “Quite. And what do you know of what men and women do together after marriage?”

  Ginny snorted. After marriage indeed. She knew he was trying to be diplomatic, but could she really fake being that naïve? Treading a fine line between knowledge and fake ignorance, Ginny tried to be as truthful as possible.

  “I am not totally ignorant. I guess you could say I know the basics, but have yet to experience any of it personally.”

  “Is there anything you wish to know?”

  When her eyes widened at the implied invitation, Oliver began to back pedal. “No, no, no. That is not what I meant. I meant only to provide you with information, to keep you from risking yourself again.”

  Laughing, Ginny said, “Sorry. I should have known that you would be a gentleman.” Putting her glass down on the table, curling her legs up underneath her, she asked, “And you would be honest? Not gloss over anything that you thought would make me uncomfortable?”

  Taking a deep breath, he replied, “When I first saw you tonight, I did not know it was you. I only knew that you were not prepared for the likes of a party such as this. I thought to save you. Drag you away and bring you home. When I realized it was you, I thought... well, I was quite worried about your well being.”

  “I guess I don't have to ask why you're here.” For some reason, Ginny couldn't look at him while asking. She didn't feel betrayed, just disappointed.

  Looking away himself, Oliver spoke as honestly as he could. “It has been some time for me and my friends thought that maybe it would help me to put things in perspective.”

  Ginny scrunched her eyes and considered him for a moment. “What things?”

  With a great sigh, as if he would be revealing too much, he answered, “You, for instance.”

  “Me?” she questioned.

  “I know I have been somewhat... difficult when it comes to you. I cannot explain myself, only that I feel a strong attraction to you. I doubt you feel the same way.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Ginny kept quiet for a moment. It was obvious that he was waiting to hear something from her to explain if she was inclined toward a relationship with him. Her pregnant pause was telling enough, as he said, “You need not worry, Sarah. I understand if you have no wish for me to court you.”

  Pain stabbed through Ginny at the thought of hurting his feelings. She knew it would eventually come to “that,” but she wasn't ready yet. Suddenly, an idea came to her that would both put him off and keep him around. Anything was worth a try at that point.

  “I'm not sure what I want, Oliver. From the earliest time in my life, I was told what was expected of me. I was to go to my first season at eighteen, meet someone titled and rich and marry them. It didn't matter what I wanted, only that I did my duty.”

  Regarding her while sipping from his glass, he responded, “It is not so different for me, you know. As the head of my family, I am expected to carry on much the same way, although being titled and rich means I have more choices at my disposal.”

  “Correct me if I'm wrong, Oliver, but you're not eighteen. You've gotten to taste freedom, maybe even travel, without so many restrictions.”

  “True. But my mother has been hounding me to marry for some time now.”

  “And if you don't? She can hardly disown you, since you control your own purse strings.”

  It was this kind of banter that Oliver now realized was so appealing about Sarah. She didn't condescend to him, taking his opinions as her own. She had her own mind, her own opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them. Above all, Sarah took him to task, not allowing herself to be bullied or allowing him to get away with anything.

  “True again. Shall I ever win an argument with you, Sarah? Or shall I always be taken to task?” he asked, smiling to let her know his actual feelings.

  “Were we arguing? I thought we were just talking... like friends.”

  “Friends,” he said, testing the word out on his tongue. Could a person be friends with someone that he desperately wanted to sleep with? Then it suddenly occurred to him that no, one couldn't. But one could use his friendship as a door to more pleasurable things. He would never use her and she would always have to be the one to initiate anything more between them, but it would give him a chance to be with her, without the pressure of marrying her.

  “Does that scare you? The thought of having a female friend?”

  “You do like to tease me, Sarah. No, I am not afraid of you.”

  Giving him a beaming smile, she asked, “What would you tell my father then?” The mention of the man almost set her back to rubbing her arms again.

  “I shall tell him that I do wish to court you. I, of course, would not make any actual declaration. It would allow me to take you places, without people assuming the worst.”

  Ginny wondered if it would be enough for him. Since it was all she had to give at the moment, it would have to be or she would be looking for an alternative mega-hunk later in the story. God knew that after that night, they had a special bond together. A shared secret that could destroy her and embarrass him. It got her wondering about something else.

  “Would you tell your friends about my being here?” she asked.

  “Dear God, no. Would you tell your sister?”

  “Hell, no. Not only would we be married by the end of the week, I would have to sit through a number of painful lectures.”

  They continued their conversation, each asking more and more personal questions. It was not unlike anything Ginny'd had in the 21 st century and it felt both good and familiar.

  “So, you've slept with many women, have you?” she asked, arching her eyebrow in displeasure, like a priest during confession.

  Laughing, he answered, “Not as many as Devon, I assure you. That man has made chasing women into a sport.”

  Trying to stay diplomatic, Ginny said, “He does have the personality for it. Very affable, but also... very...” She knew what word she wanted to use, but knew it wasn't something she could admit to knowing. Sarah Dunworthy would certainly not know anything about being erotic.

  With a put off tone, Oliver replied, “Yes, yes, he is very 'that' indeed.”

  Turning her head, Ginny saw his displeasure. Saw that he felt his friend to be competition in respect to her. “I can't say that I've ever really liked 'that' in men. Quite turns me off, really.”

  “Sometimes you speak like a commoner, Sarah. Where does that come from?”

  Grasping, she answered, “The servants, I suppose. I admit that sometimes I'm not inclined to analyze every word before it comes out of my mouth. I only wish everyone did the same.”

  “Was there anything in particular you wanted to ask me about men and women?” he asked. Ginny thought he was really brave to bring up the topic.

  “You once told me that you would be willing to be the first man to kiss
me passionately. What's the difference between a regular kiss and a passionate kiss?” After saying it, Ginny realized her error. She had meant only to ask him an embarrassing question, to tease him, but realized that he might just think to demonstrate the difference. She didn't want to go down that road yet, only wanting a little more time before she had to play in another affair.

  The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know about what he was thinking. Having read descriptions of the men in all those romance books, Ginny now saw what smoldering looked like. He looked coiled and ready to spring out of his chair and on top of her. Although she could admit to part of her being very interested in having him kiss her, she still couldn't bring herself to do it.

  “I... I...”

  Seeing her stutter, Oliver's ardor was doused. She wasn't ready for an intimacy yet, which made her appearance at that party even more perplexing. “You need not worry, Sarah. Perhaps another time I will demonstrate, but for now, I shall only give you a verbal description.”

  He took his time explaining the differences, never taking his eyes from hers. He had to give her credit. What would have had most débutantes blushing a bright red, Sarah listened patiently and asked astute questions. It still nagged at him that she had no interest in him romantically. When a reason finally occurred to him, he decided to ask.

  “Sarah, you might think me impertinent, but is there someone else you wish to marry?”

  It was the out she'd been looking for, but Ginny was reticent to use it. The story would have its happily ever after, whether she wanted this man sitting across from her or not. Looking down, Ginny finally made her decision.

  “Yes,” was all she said, in a small voice.

  “Did your parents not approve of him?”

  Ginny thought about that for a moment. Sticking as close to the truth as possible, she said, “No, that wasn't it. He's just not available.”

  “Is he already married?” Oliver's tone took on a hint of disapproval, which made Ginny almost laugh out loud. Yes, he was already married, but to her, in another body.

  “No, Oliver, that isn't it, either.” When she didn't continue, Ginny felt his hand reach under her chin and lift her eyes to his.

  “What then? Is there something I can do to help?” Oliver could hardly believe the words coming from his mouth. Help get her together with another man? Dear God he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

  Giving him a half smile, Ginny whispered, “He's dead.”

  Drawing his hand back as if he'd been burned, Oliver looked shocked. Of all the things he thought she'd say, that was not one of them. At the worst, he figured it was a servant in her parents' household. When the shock wore off, he stood up and collected her in his arms. “I am sorry,” was all he could muster, since a large part of him wasn't sorry at all.

  When he felt her trembling in his arms, he squeezed tighter. Then picking her up, he sat back on his chair, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. She curled up into a ball and he noticed the hot tears on his neck. Wondering at who the extraordinary man was, Oliver knew he would never ask. Partly because he didn't want her to relive the pain, but mostly because he never wanted to know who was able to elicit such an emotional response from the woman he was likely falling in love with.

  When her body finally settled, he lifted her face up to meet his. “Better?” he asked, concern marring his handsome face.

  Ginny gave him a shaky smile. “Better. Thank you.”

  They were so close and Ginny knew she'd better move before their newfound friendship degraded into something far more animalistic. Clearing her throat, Ginny rose from his lap and sat back down in her own chair. She smiled at him and wiped away the last of the tears. It humbled her to think of how truly unselfish he'd been just then.

  “I can't bring him back, but I'm trying to move forward. I have no right to ask, and I certainly wouldn't expect you to, but if you're willing to wait, maybe...” The words wouldn't come out of her mouth, especially after her weepy display of mourning for Colby.

  Knowing exactly what she'd meant, he nodded. “Let us see where things go. If it was meant to be, it shall be.”

  Giving him a big, toothy smile, she replied, “Exactly. In the mean time, we can be friends?”

  “I would like that.”

  They chatted about everything over the next couple of hours: politics, religion, foreign policy, the monarchy, etc... Afterwards, Ginny was left with not only a sense of who this man was, but also how he thought. And as it turned out, he was someone she would like to get to know better.

  Checking his watch, Oliver frowned. “I need to get you home, Sarah. Your mother and sister may already be there and I would not want you to have to explain your absence from the house this evening.”

  “You're truly my hero, Oliver.” Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she smiled at him.

  “Yes, I am. Now, lock the door after I leave. I shall order my carriage and come back to escort you out. I need not tell you not to let anyone but me in, correct?”

  “That is a mistake I won't be making,” she said, shivering again over her earlier encounter.

  Putting his mask back on, he left the room and waited for the sound of the lock being turned in the door. By the time he returned with his carriage, Sarah was masked and waiting. They retrieved their coats and were making their way to the front door, when a slightly inebriated Lord Devon spotted his friend. Seeing his friend come at him, Oliver whispered to Sarah to keep her head down and to not speak.

  “Jolly good evening, right Con...” Realizing that he shouldn't use his friend's name, Devon clammed up and smiled instead.

  “Indeed. If you will excuse me, I need to provide this lady with a ride home.”

  “Are you coming back? You gave me a ride here, after all.”

  Completely forgetting that minor detail, Oliver whispered to Devon. “Do you think you could find another way home? I had not planned on returning.” He said the last part in a low voice, indicating that he had every intention of spending more time with the lady on his arm.

  Catching on immediately, Devon slapped Oliver's shoulder. “Of course, of course. You need not worry about my safety. I shall be more than happy to find alternative transportation.”

  Smiling at Devon, Oliver continued out the door with Sarah, handing her up safely into the carriage. After giving instructions to his coachman, Oliver joined her inside. The ride was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. With every turn of the carriage wheels, Oliver had to keep reminding himself not to hold her hand. His need was nearly unquenchable, but she was not ready. And so, he would wait.

  Arriving down the street from her townhouse, Oliver got out first and looked around. He wasn't certain if her family was home for the evening yet, so he walked with her, hand around her arm. If anyone should glance out, they would only see a couple walking along.

  Entering the alley aside her home, they made their way to the side door. Ginny had thought enough to grab the key on her way out, knowing it would be locked upon her return. Handing the key to Oliver, he quietly opened the door and peered inside.

  “All's clear, my lady. Shall I call on you tomorrow?” His voice was earnest, since he couldn't contain his desire to see her again.

  “Please do. I will be looking forward to it. Good night, Oliver and thank you again.” With her cape on, he couldn't see her face, but he imagined the look she gave him.

  “Good night, Sarah.” He turned and strode back to the street, careful to make sure no one saw him exit the alley. Once safely inside his carriage and on his way home, Oliver analyzed the evening. He knew Sarah was unconventional, but this went above and beyond that. And although she looked to be nothing but trouble, he couldn't resist the idea of chasing her until she relented. Thinking about her in his bed put a smile on his face and uncomfortable pressure in his breeches.

  Chapter 9

  Early the next morning, Sarah was laying in bed, staring out the window at the budding trees. It was a strange thing,
being attracted to a man she'd only just met. But, after spending so much time with Oliver, in an utterly compromising position, Ginny knew he was “the one.” Or, at least, “the one” for this book. After much thought, she knew that what she felt for Colby had been love, just not the all consuming love that heroines always felt in romance novels. Was she sorry to leave? Yes, most definitely. Could she survive the loss? Now she knew she could. Not because she'd met someone else, but because she knew that part of what she liked about Colby, could be found in Oliver. It was as though each man she met, novel after novel, built upon himself. No one was perfect, including herself, but eventually, she knew she would meet a man who was pretty damn close, at least as far as she was concerned.

  And even with this new found knowledge in hand, she still wouldn't push the romance part just yet. Being his friend, learning more about how he thought and what he liked, was just as important as earth shattering orgasms. Ginny liked the idea of being his friend first, and moving forward from there. It seemed like a logical way to build a relationship.

 

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