A Lesson in

Forgiveness

Jennifer Connors

A Lesson in Forgiveness

Published by J Connors Publishing, LLC

Gilbert, Arizona

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Connors

Cover design by Darren Connors

ISBN 978-0-9824655-1-6

www.jenniferconnors.net

This book is dedicated to my neighbors and friends who act as my editors, my critics and my support. Thank you for pointing out my ever increasing typos and missing words. These books couldn't exist without your help!

A Lesson in Forgiveness

Chapter 1

Gentle rocking. Back and forth, back and forth. The only sound was the rhythm of the rocking. No smells or tastes or feelings. Only the rocking. It was soothing and relaxing. Mostly, it was hypnotic. No pain, no worries, no anxieties.

Then, it ended, abruptly. The carriage hit a pothole and Ginny was jarred so hard she hit her head against the seat. Her eyes snapped open. She held the carriage seat as if it was a life preserver. That was what it felt like. She was drowning in a sea of mis-comprehension and the feel of the wood and cushion were the only things that kept her afloat.

Her breathing was shallow and sweat began to form on her forehead. The carriage was small and she was not the only occupant. Across from her were two people, a man and a woman, both older, with graying hair and wrinkles around their eyes and mouths. Both were asleep, the man slumped against the carriage and the woman slumped against the man.

Ginny began to examine the rest of the interior. The rocking continued, except now, it wasn't so soothing. There were doors on either side, with small windows that were currently open to allow for air flow. Right beside each door was what looked like an oil lamp, although neither was lit since it was daytime. Everything was a stained dark wood, except for the cushions, which were a lively red velvety material. Staring out the small windows, Ginny saw a whole lot of nothing, trees and fields along a seemingly never ending dirt road. No highway, no cars, no telephone poles and no houses. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. Where the hell am I now? she wondered, keeping her eyes closed against the reality that she was still not home. Ginny had just lived a strange woman's life in medieval times. She was a romance novel heroine, saving the day and winning the hunk. Of course, that wasn't her real life. The life she left behind in 2008, working as a physician's assistant and living the single life of a thirty year old.

The last thing Ginny could remember was walking away from Ian, her mega-hunk, right before she passed out. Passed out? s he thought disbelievingly. More like passed to yet another person's life I will have to live. Reaching up with both hands, covered in fine, soft gloves, Ginny began to rub her face. If I keep my eyes closed, maybe it will all go away. I will be back where I'm supposed to be and Lisa and I can have a big laugh over my outrageous dreams.

It was not to be Ginny's lucky day. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see the two other occupants of the carriage staring at her. The woman had large brown eyes and a stern, down-turned mouth. The man, whose salt and pepper hair was cut very short, had sympathetic green eyes and a kindly face. Ginny had hoped to remember some information on who she was currently occupying before she had to speak, but since it wasn't her lucky day, she wasn't to be disappointed.

“You will not fade in the background here, young lady. It is your responsibility to make a fine marriage and no man wants a woman who cannot hold a conversation,” said the stern looking woman. Ginny surmised she was her mother and she was not happy with her.

The man held a hand over the woman's hand and said more gently, “We don't want you to be alone, Bethany. We want you to have a happy life. Your mother and I want to see you settled before...” Her father, she presumed, didn't finish his sentence. It was probably a conversation he'd already had with her on many occasions.

Ginny didn't know what exactly was going on, but she could figure most of it out. “Yes, sir,” was all she replied, hoping it would put an end to the conversation and she could sit quietly waiting to find out who she was. Again, she was not so lucky.

“Two seasons! Two! You should be betrothed by now. There were so many fine gentlemen available. If you would just talk to some of them. I can count how many times you danced on one hand. You are such a beautiful girl.” Her mother let out an exasperated sigh and turned to look out the carriage window.

“I will try harder, mother,” she replied, figuring it was what she was supposed to say. Since the woman continued to stare out the window, Ginny figured it was also the same thing she'd said in the past. Or rather, the same thing Bethany had said. Before she could expound more on a subject she was completely unfamiliar with, there was a knock from above.

“There now, it seems we have almost arrived,” her father smiled openly. “It will be a pleasure to finally meet Lord Whitmore in person. His correspondence has been most helpful.”

Ginny had no idea what that meant, so she decided to keep quiet. The carriage turned down a long drive and suddenly her mother looked almost excited.

“There. The house. Oh, my, how beautiful.” The woman was practically hanging out the window. “Come, Bethany and look. I do believe that Lord Whitmore is unmarried,” she said looking to her husband for confirmation.

“Yes, dear, he is unmarried, but I would not even try to make a match there. I am told he is not interested in marrying.”

“He has no heir, therefore, he must be interested in marrying,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“There will be enough marriageable men there for our daughter to choose from. Lord Whitmore is our host. Do not disturb him with your plans.” Ginny could tell by the look on his face that he meant what he said and he would broach no argument. Apparently, the woman knew this as well.

“Very well, dear. I am told that Lord Clarendon will be in attendance as well. Although his reputation is most disturbing.”

The two continued to discuss the possibilities and argue their pros and cons. Ginny, smartly, kept her mouth shut and listened. She had yet to even know who she was, so she wasn't about to offer up any advice. Ginny did want to know what was so disturbing about Lord Clarendon's reputation. It seemed an interesting topic, rather than how much money each unattached man brought to the table.

The feel of the carriage changed suddenly as they approached the house. Instead of the dirt road, they now rode on cobblestones. Ginny wasn't paying much attention, so when the carriage did finally stop, she was nearly thrown forward onto her parent's laps. Her mother gave her another stern look, while her father pretended not to notice. Before anyone could say anything, the door was opened and small steps lowered. Ginny's new father got out first, turning to assist her new mother down the steps. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ginny got up to exit as well. Grabbing her new father's hand, Ginny got her first look at the house.

House was not the word she would use. Perhaps, mansion or manor, but definitely not house. The carriage had entered some type of courtyard, with stone steps that led to huge double doors. Her new parents led the way up the stairs into an entrance hall that was probably bigger than Ginny's whole house in her time. The floors were marble tile, alternating black and white. In the center of the room, there was a beautiful inlay of a coat of arms, with dark reds and greens.

There was little furniture in the cavernous hall. Only a few benches and tables, set back against the walls. The grand staircase was in the center of the room, a good thirty feet from the doors. It looked like mahogany, darkly stained and richly ornamented with huge finial balls on either side. Ginny's eyes must have been open wide as she perused the entranceway because her new mother snapped her fan and hit her in the arm.

“Close your gaping mouth,” she hissed at her as a man came from behind the stairs and started in their direction.

Her father was the first to speak. “Good afternoon. Lord Whitmore, I presume.”

“Indeed. You must be Mr. Hamilton. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, sir.” Lord Whitmore, Ginny observed, was probably in his early to mid-thirties. His hair was a rich brown color, not at all thinning from the front, and trimmed short. He had almond shaped eyes and a strong jawline. Overall, Ginny would consider him good looking, but not necessarily “mega-hunkish.” He was trim, but not overly muscled, which didn't lend to the usual romance hero. No, Ginny decided, he probably isn't who I'm here to “fall in love with.”

“Please allow me to introduce my wife,” new dad turned so Lord Whitmore could kiss her hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine, my lord.” New mom looked like she just might burst. Ginny felt herself smiling over the thought, as she couldn't quite understand the excitement. He wasn't a rock star after all.

“And of course, our daughter, Bethany,” new dad beamed with pride.

Lord Whitmore turned his attention toward Ginny. His eyes, she could now see, were an incredible shade of green. Bright and vibrant, reminding her of Scotland, the thought of which made her a little sad. “It is a great pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Hamilton.”

“You have a beautiful home, Lord Whitmore. I look forward to seeing the rest of it,” Ginny stated, not lying. She was really looking forward to seeing more of this house/mansion. “I've heard the gardens are especially lovely this time of year.” Ginny heard the words leaving her mouth, but didn't know where they came from. Perhaps a bit of Bethany was popping out.

“Thank you. I am rather fond of my gardens. Perhaps you will permit me to escort you later,” he smiled as he took her hand and brushed a light kiss on the backs of her fingers. “Now, please allow my housekeeper to show you to your rooms. I'm sure you are tired after such a long journey.” Whitmore turned toward a small, round woman.

“Thank you, my lord. We are most appreciative,” her new father said as he took his wife's arm.

“I have a cold luncheon waiting in the dining room when you are refreshed,” Whitmore said hospitably. As he walked away, Ginny noticed his butt. Raising an eyebrow, she thought it looked pretty nice in his tight fitting pants. As a matter of fact, she rather liked the whole outfit, with the coat and boots. She just might like this time period after all.

The housekeeper wasted no time showing them to their rooms. Ginny had her own room, on the second floor with a window facing the infamous gardens. As she looked out her window, she was in awe. They really were beautiful. The housekeeper noticed her attention and said, “Lord Whitmore is famous for his gardens you know. He employs twenty gardeners to maintain it.”

“I can tell. They look outstanding. I'm happy to have a room with a view of them.”

“Your maid arrived before you and has everything put away. Do you wish me to call her up?” the housekeeper asked. The woman was a bundle of energy, not able to stop moving for even a moment. Her face was round and her eyes were kind. The housekeeper's body was robust, with large bosoms that bobbed with her every movement.

“Thank you,” was all Ginny said, wondering what her maid would do to her.

“Very good, miss,” the housekeeper said as she flitted from the room. For the first time since popping into another life, Ginny was alone. She wondered if she would remember some details of her new life before having to play the part. She also wondered if she would ever see her real home again.

“I have ordered a bath for you, miss,” her maid said after entering her room. Ginny had spent the solitary five minutes examining the room. It was decorated very tastefully, with simple, purposeful furniture. Besides the bed, which was a grand four poster type, she had a wardrobe, a vanity and a writing desk. The desk was set up next to the second of her two windows, so the correspondent could have the garden as an inspiration. The hearth was flanked by two over stuffed armchairs cushioned in a dark red, flowery brocade. The same pattern was used on the curtains and bedspread. The floor was covered in large Persian rugs, well made and cushiony, with colors to complement the reds in the fabrics and the soft yellow wallpaper. All in all, the room was the picture of its time period.

“If you will sit, I will remove the pins from your hair,” the little maid said, ushering her to the vanity. Without question, Ginny sat down in the chair provided and for the first time, looked at her new person in the mirror.

She already knew she was a tall woman, which would be easier to get used to since Ginny was tall in her real life. What she was not prepared for was her looks. Ginny was greeted by russet colored hair, with natural blond highlights that made it almost glow in the sunlight coming in from the windows. Her face was long, but thin, with big, blue eyes and nearly perfect white teeth. Her face was completed by high cheekbones and a pert nose. Although not supermodel gorgeous, she was quite pretty. The eyes on this face spoke of intelligence, not frivolity. Her lips were full and pouty and looked perfect for flirting, which was a good thing considering her need to find a husband.

The maid must have noticed her staring at herself, because she asked, “Are you alright, miss?”

Ginny turned her eyes toward the maid in the mirror. Was she?

After spending a few months “roughing it” in the wilds of medieval Scotland, she was now in a place where there would be more creature comforts. She still had nothing of her previous life, nothing of the little things she took for granted: no bathroom with running water, no TV with DVR and DVD. Although she knew she could live without those things, she wouldn't mind having her car and a grocery store full of chocolate bars again.

“I don't really feel myself today,” she said tentatively. She would gladly give up those comforts of the 21st century to have a little more information about the body she possessed. It was scary not knowing what was going on. It made one feel as if they would be caught at any moment, called a liar or impostor, and thrown out.

“A bath will set you to rights.” As the words hung in the air, there was a knock at the door. Two footmen brought in a large tin tub, followed closely by maids with buckets of steaming water. Once set up, Ginny's maid, rather Bethany's maid, assisted her in undressing. Once sitting in the tub, Ginny could feel all her worries melting away.

The maid washed her hair, then went about cleaning up the room. Ginny stared at the hearth, now empty, and thought about Ian. Had she fallen in love with him? Her medieval mega-hunk had truly gotten under her skin, in good and bad ways, but she didn't feel any intense loss. The sex was great and his company on most occasions was welcome, but it was more like losing a boyfriend, than a soul mate. Of course, Ginny had never lost a soul mate, so she could be wrong. Since she didn't feel like locking herself away and crying, she figured she was right.

Did she get it wrong? Was it because she hadn't fallen in love, like the romance novels all dictated, that she was stuck living another novel? Maybe she had to do things right this time. Not change the story, like she had with Ian. Follow all the plot lines of this novel to get her ticket home. Well, there was no way of knowing for sure, but at least it was a course of action Ginny could follow.

The maid excused herself to get a new bucket of warm rinse water. Ginny was alone to examine her new body. She was pleasantly skinny, not all bones, but filled out in curves. She finally had the flat stomach she'd always longed for in her own body. Her breasts were round and perky. Altogether, she figured any man would be pleased with her. Feeling down her stomach, she imagined the baby she was pregnant with before she left Ian and Scotland. Although Ginny wasn't saddened at not having to give birth without a real doctor, hospital and epidural, she felt a twinge of regret. It felt more like a disappointment than a true loss. As she stared at her big feet, Ginny was jolted upright suddenly. The memories came back in a flash, all at once that her mind was having some difficulty processing all the information. Just as she thought she would pass out from the overload, Ginny laid gently back against the tub, still breathing rapidly, but at least no longer in fear of losing her sanity.

It was all there. She was Bethany Hamilton, daughter of William and Eugenia Hamilton. Her father was the third son of the Earl of Wexton, a position now held by her uncle. Although her father had never taken a profession, in the church or the military, they lived comfortably on an inheritance her father received from an uncle and her mother's sizable dowry. Her mother was the daughter of a baroncy, a family that she seldom saw or corresponded with. Although neither were in any fear of gaining title, Bethany was still considered a good catch due to a sizable dowry of her own.

Her maid returned with a large pitcher of warm water to rinse her off. Before she knew it, Ginny was out of the tub, dried off and sitting at her vanity having her hair combed. At least now, she knew her own maid's name.

“Tabby, have you heard anything about the rest of the party in attendance?” Ginny had to really think about how she said things, not wanting to give herself away.

“Lord Clarendon is among the guests. He has quite the reputation, he does.”

“My mother said the same thing. Reputation for what, exactly?”

“A rake, he is, miss. It is said he has slept with most of the married women of the ton. Now he needs a wife to produce a 'legitimate' heir to his title.”

“Oh,” Ginny finally got it. He was a man whore and probably would continue to be such after he was married. Some of the books she read were coming back to her. The rake, libertine, lecher would be reformed by meeting the perfect woman. A woman of such heights that he would be soured to any other woman's attentions. Yeah, right.

So, was this Lord Clarendon to be her mega-hunk? Ginny figured she would meet just about everyone during dinner that evening. Just then, at the thought of food, her stomach gurgled noisily. For Ginny, eating was never a problem.

“Oh my, miss. You haven't eaten all day, have you? I will run downstairs and get you a tray. That way, we will have plenty of time to get you ready for dinner.” With that, Tabby the maid was gone. And Ginny was left wondering why it would take so damn long to get ready for dinner.

Chapter 2

When it was finally time to go to dinner, Tabby had pampered and primped Ginny to death. Her hair alone took over an hour, with dressing taking up another hour. In all fairness, Ginny was allowed some time to lay down and rest before having to present herself on a platter for all the eligible men to meet (or was that eat). There was a knock at her door, which Tabby immediately opened. Her parents were waiting for her to join them. They needed to show a united front: the desperate parents, the willing maiden, the sizable dowry. All these things would make Ginny, or Bethany, a much sought after prize in the marriage arena. Her dress was somewhat uncomfortable and completely impractical. First, there were so many layers to a gentlewoman's wardrobe as to be laughable. There were pantaloons, or what Ginny would call panties. Then a chemise, petticoats, stockings, and so on and so forth. Her shoes were merely slippers, which had no support. The dress itself was cut right under the breasts so if Ginny's new body had any tummy at all (like Ginny's own body did), a girl could easily hide that imperfection. Made of thin muslin, it was practically see through. Fortunately, with the dozen layers underneath, there wasn't any way to see any of it. The bodice was a square cut that showed the top of her cleavage.

Her hair was done up with a thousand hair pins, that pulled and tugged and made her itch. As if it weren't enough, Tabby intertwined ribbons and flowers into the mass as well. Soft tendrils floated down around her face, often making her want to blow the pieces out of her line of sight. Ginny figured that wouldn't be very ladylike, so she resisted the urge.

Walking stiffly behind her parents, a thousand rules went barreling through her head. Bethany had been drilled from the very beginning on how to act, what to say, which fork was which. Ginny's head was nearly exploding with all the information. It wasn't enough to be witty, oh no. You had to appear disinterested, while being witty. You could only dance with a gentleman twice, or there would be rumors. You must never be alone with a man, married or otherwise, unless he was very elderly or a relative. As their group entered the drawing room, where a large group had already gathered, Ginny found she was somewhat nervous. Not that she really cared what people thought about her, but she had some kind of undeniable feeling that if she disappointed her new parents, it would cut her like a knife. Dear God, Ginny thought grimly, what had these people done to this girl?

Their host, Lord Whitmore, approached Ginny's new parents with another gentleman in tow. Ginny could feel her mother's back stiffen and wondered what had gotten her ire. Slightly craning her neck to see the other gentleman, Ginny was rendered breathless. Oh my God, oh my God, kept cycling through her head. The man, or should she say mega-hunk, was tall, well over six feet. He had broad shoulders and long limbs. His face was long, but perfectly proportioned to his body. He had clean cut hair, so black it almost appeared blue. His eyes were dark, probably brown, but Ginny couldn't tell from her angle. He had a straight patrician nose and beautiful white teeth. His smile was her undoing, as it gave him an irresistibly roguish look. This man had to be the one she was here to meet.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. Miss Hamilton. May I present Lord Clarendon.” Lord Clarendon executed a perfect bow, taking her mother's hand and lightly kissing the back of her fingers. Turning to her father, he gave another more curt bow.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Ginny noticed that he moved around her mother to align himself better with her. “And Miss Hamilton. May I say it is truly a pleasure,” Clarendon said with that roguish smile, bowing slightly and taking her hand to kiss her fingers. Ginny could feel the kiss all the way up her arm, stifling the silly giggle that almost escaped her mouth.

“The pleasure is mine, my lord,” Ginny said almost breathless. He is a gorgeous specimen, she thought continuing to keep eye contact with his beautiful, smiling face. If he is a rake, he should know what he's doing.

“Lord Clarendon, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Hamilton to dinner this evening?” Whitmore was no fool. He could see that the Hamilton girl was quite taken by a pretty face. His long time friend was in need of a wife and settling down. One girl was as good

as another, especially when he knew that Clarendon was unlikely to be faithful anyway. Never taking his eyes off Ginny, Lord Clarendon smiled and said, “It would be my pleasure.”

Ginny felt a tingling all the way to her toes. Offering his arm, Ginny placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to escort her toward the dining room. His arm was all muscle, strong and confident. She could feel, more than see, her parents behind her. Her mother's disapproval was like heat on her back. Ginny didn't care, but there was a little voice in her head cautioning her with all the rules of polite society. It was in Ginny's (no Bethany's) voice, so she wasn't worried about being schizophrenic, but it was getting quite annoying having to listen to it all the same.

“Why is it that we have not yet met, Miss Hamilton? Have you not been presented yet?” His breath in her ear was intoxicating. It really was sad that she should react so strongly to him, after knowing him for all of two minutes. It came off as quite shallow. Just as Ginny would berate herself, she caught a whiff of his scent. Sandalwood and leather. Dear God, who cares if I'm shallow, she thought as they continued their trek to the dining room.

“I have attended two seasons, my lord. I have a bad habit of being rather shy. You probably didn't notice me because I worked so well at blending in.” Ginny had to consider every word. But judging by her memories, Bethany was a wallflower of the highest extreme.

“Hmmmm. Strange. I rather like to talk to the shy girls. You must have been very good indeed at blending in.” Ginny turned her head to see him smiling at her again. It was like having Hugh Jackman or George Clooney flirting with you. It just made one want to giggle.

“I don't remember seeing you much, my lord. I can't imagine not noticing you.”

“Oh, I am sure we attended some of the same soirées and balls. Some of them can be quite a crush, can they not?”

“Indeed. It makes it rather unpleasant to attend sometimes. Of course, when one is trying not to be noticed, the more people the better.”

“Do you wish not be noticed now?” he asked with no little subtlety, raising his eyebrow slightly.

“I have no issues with you noticing me,” Ginny said without looking at him. It was outrageous flirting on her part, but she figured he was the one she was here to fall in love with, so she might as well keep things going. Her rulebook would cry foul, but at this point, Ginny needed to use more of her wits than rely on Bethany's years of instruction.

“I am certainly glad to hear that, Miss Hamilton,” Clarendon stated as he pulled her chair out. Ginny noticed that her parents were sitting on the opposite side of the table, farther down. They would neither hear nor participate in any conversation she had at dinner.

Dinner was a bland affair. The first course was soup, which was some creamy potato leek concoction. Ginny was glad for it, since she had some recollection of the food they ate during this era, and the soup was likely going to be the last thing she ate tonight.

The second course was some kind of fowl, covered in a rich, creamy sauce. Ginny tried the meat, thinking back to her own mother expounding on how you can't not like something until you try it. After a few bites, she figured she'd eaten enough to not cause talk. She did hope that the third course would have some vegetables or potatoes or something other than strange meat.

In between courses, she was drawn into conversation with the woman to her left, a Mrs. Bradbury. The woman explained that her husband was the local squire and was an expert about the entire area. By expert, she meant gossip, and before long Ginny knew just about everything there was to know about local scandals, births, marriages and so on. Of course, Ginny didn't know any of the people she spoke about, so it seemed safer to just smile and look amazed by the antics of country folk.

After the third course, Lord Clarendon began to engage her again in conversation. He was truly too beautiful for his own good, or for Ginny's own good. She could barely keep from staring at him or his smile. She was certain that he was taking it as encouragement.

“Two seasons and not betrothed? How scandalous,” he said with a quirk of his mouth.

“Indeed. I seem to be quite a disappointment to my parents. You need not worry, though. I'm not desperate enough to corner a notorious rake such as yourself.”

“Miss Hamilton, you shame me. What would you know of my reputation?”

“Not much. Just that you apparently have one. Oh, and my mother has been shooting you daggers throughout the entire meal.”

He chuckled lightly. “Yes, I have noticed a certain... despair over our being seated together. I am quite surprised. I am not just a Viscount. My father is a duke.” A sadness came across his eyes as he reached and sipped from his wine glass. “I thought that was all the mothers of the ton cared about.”

“Well, it matters not. I couldn't care less if you were the Prince Regent himself.”

“Indeed,” he sounded rather perplexed, but mostly as if he didn't believe her. Ginny had decided during dinner that showing a lack of interest in him would be more fun. Lead him a merry chase instead of simply throwing herself at him. He didn't seem the type interested in anyone who was so plainly interested in him. Besides, she knew this way would be more entertaining.

“Are we not supposed to speak about the weather? Or do we have any acquaintances in common? Those would be the safe topics between unmarried individuals,” she said, hoping he would chose an unsafe topic instead.

“Would you care to discuss the latest gossip in London?” he asked, but Ginny shook her head vehemently.

“I've enough of gossip.” Whispering so her other dinner partner couldn't hear, “Mrs. Bradbury has regaled me with quite enough.”

She watched him run his tongue along his teeth. His look was that of wanting to be naughty. “Very well, Miss Hamilton. What would you like to talk about?”

“Are you as notorious as reported?” her eyes twinkled, knowing he couldn't resist answering her question.

“Do you find that gossip is entirely accurate?”

“I would say only about ten percent of the time. However, it is almost always based on some reality.”

Smiling, he answered, “Indeed. So now you may be relieved that I am only ten percent as notorious as you have heard.”

Smiling back, Ginny responded, “How disappointing! You are far too handsome to be only ten percent of the rake I've heard tale of.”

Laughing heartily and sipping from his wine glass once more, he stated, “I have a feeling that you and I will become good friends.”

“I hope so, my lord,” was the last thing said before the host declared the meal had come to an end. Ginny's plate had largely gone untouched in the third course, as well as her wine glass. This last detail did not go unnoticed.

“Did you not care for the wine?” Clarendon inquired as he assisted her from her chair.

“I'm not much of a wine drinker, my lord. It causes me quite a headache the next day. I prefer other beverages.”

Accepting his arm, he began to escort her from the room. “For instance, tea, perhaps?”

“Tea is fine. Water is excellent. But when it comes to spirits, I have always found whiskey to be very palatable.”

“Shocking, Miss Hamilton. Simply shocking. You must not let anyone hear such scandalous words.”

Rolling her eyes at the ridiculous separation between the sexes, Ginny simply replied, “Then it will be our secret?”

They reached the drawing room and Lord Clarendon released her hand. Grabbing it again, bowing over it and kissing the fingers lightly, he looked into her eyes. “Of course. Our own little secret.” With a smile, he walked toward the study where the men had gathered and Ginny turned at her mother's throat clearing to enter the drawing room.

Taking a seat next to her mother on one of the settees, Ginny smiled to herself. This is definitely going to be more fun than I realized, she thought, waiting for her mother to set her down over her being so intimate with a notorious rake. It didn't take long before her mother was lecturing her. Ginny simply continued to imagine what the sex would be like with the Viscount Clarendon.

After an hour of listening to her mother, Ginny wondered how long they would have to sit in this hen house before she could go to bed. Suddenly, the men reappeared and the party begun anew. Sighing to herself, Ginny realized it would be awhile before she got her wish.

Standing up, stretching discreetly, Ginny wandered over to the window, hoping that Clarendon would join her for some more witty repartee. She was quite surprised when Lord Whitmore joined her instead.

“Did you enjoy the meal, Miss Hamilton?” he asked, not looking at her, but looking out the same window she had been.

“Yes, it was lovely,” she replied, facing him and smiling.

“I noticed that you did not eat very much.”

“It has been a long day, my lord. I'm just a little tired. I wouldn't want you to think it was the food.”

Whitmore turned his head and regarded her carefully. He had gotten the impression that the reason she ate so little was because she was busy paying too much attention to her dinner guest. Not that he would think she would admit to that. Keeping his face schooled into an impression of peace, he said, “I am glad to hear it. My cook takes a lot of pride in her creations.”

“As she should. The soup was excellent. I am not one for rich sauces, but it was quite tasty none the less.”

Ginny was surprised to feel a certain calmness. Lord Whitmore didn't come off as snooty or arrogant as one would expect in a man of his title. Then again, neither did Lord Clarendon, which was probably why they were friends.

Turning his head back to the window, he said, “I noticed that you and Lord Clarendon were quite engaged during the meal.”

“Yes. He is a witty conversationalist. I enjoyed our discussion immensely.”

Turning to her, raising an eyebrow, he smiled. “Yes, he can be quite... witty. You should be careful, though. He does not always know how to school his discussions toward appropriate topics.”

“Good. I'm quite tired of 'appropriate topics'.”

“Indeed.” She felt him stiffen. Alarmed by the change in his demeanor, she watched him carefully. In Ginny's time, people would just say what they think or feel, sometimes without regard to the consequences. God knew she'd done that herself often enough. Now she was in a time when everything was spoken around, innuendo or reference. Certain topics were completely taboo, for anyone. Many more were only taboo to unmarried women.

Turning to face her dead on, his eyebrows knitted together, he meant to make himself very clear. Speaking more harshly than perhaps required, he said, “Miss Hamilton. I will not abide inappropriate behavior, especially from the daughter of one of my guests. I expect no scandals from my house parties. Do I make myself clear?”

Ginny was shocked to feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. All the rules kept battling her instincts inside her head. As demurely as possible, holding in the anger she felt, she simply replied, “I understand.”

“Thank you.”

He turned to leave when Ginny let slip, “Do you plan to talk to Lord Clarendon as well?” Ginny knew she should have just let it go, but she wouldn't be Ginny if she had.

“I beg your pardon?”

Turning toward him once again, trying to look serene despite being intensely pissed, she asked again, “Do you plan to inform Lord Clarendon of your 'no scandals' rule as well. Or would it only be my fault should a scandal arise due to our conversations on 'inappropriate topics'?”

Ginny watched him quirk his mouth to a smile and raise his eyebrow in response. “I suppose you are correct, Miss Hamilton. I shall discuss this with Lord Clarendon. I would not want any misunderstandings. Thank you for your suggestion.”

Damn, he's good, she thought. Even though she knew she'd gotten under his skin, he was able to turn it around and make her feel like she'd been wrong. It fascinated Ginny when someone could hide his feelings so well. Recognizing the discipline he had and appreciating the effort it took, she smiled at him and said,

“Thank you, Lord Whitmore.”

He bowed his head slightly and left her side. Not two seconds later, her mother came strolling over, grabbed her arm and announced that it was late and they should retire. Before leaving the room, Ginny glanced over at their host, who was speaking in hushed tones to Mr. and Mrs. Bradbury. Catching his eye, she smiled and tilted her head, hoping it looked like she was conceding this round, but to expect more. Ginny didn't like to lose.

Chapter 3

Ginny woke up the next morning feeling somewhat refreshed. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun had come up so it must have been after eight o'clock. Using the bell pull, she summoned her maid to help her get ready. It still goaded Ginny to require help with dressing, but there were too many buttons or ribbons or stays that needed attention for her to do alone.

Tabby knocked so lightly that Ginny barely heard it. Before Ginny could respond, Tabby stuck her head in and asked, “Are you alright, miss?”

“Yes, Tabby, please come in. I need help getting dressed.”

“Let me just run downstairs and fetch some hot water for you. I will return as quickly as possible.” Before Ginny could respond, the maid was gone. Meanwhile, Ginny could only sit on the edge of her bed and wait. She'd already used the “water closet,” a term she used in her own home, but that toilet at least flushed. She had no idea what to wear, what type of dress she needed for “morning.” She knew that women of this era, at this rank, changed their clothes several times a day. At home, Ginny would put on a pair of scrubs for work and would often fall asleep in them on her couch. This time period would definitely take some getting used to.

Tabby reappeared with a large pitcher of steaming water. She filled the bowl on her wash basin and took out a washcloth and towel for her. Ginny went about washing up while Tabby got out all the various parts of her wardrobe.

“Would you like to wear the pink muslin or your yellow dress with the flowered embroidery?”

What, huh? s he thought to herself. Ginny was never the height of fashion, often trumping style for comfort. She had no idea what Tabby just asked her. Drying off her face, she turned around and simply said, “You decide, Tabby. And from now on, just tell me what I'm wearing. Don't bother to ask.”

The look on the little maid's face was so precious that Ginny nearly laughed out loud. It was a look between choked, terrified and appalled.

“But you told me to never choose for you. You said I have not an eye for fashion.”

Staring at her maid in amazement, Ginny realized that Bethany might be shy, but she really could have a bite to her. And not a bite for those who deserved it, but taking it out on the only person she had absolute control over. Bowing her head in shame, even though it certainly wasn't Ginny who made the comment, she said,

“I'm sorry, Tabby. I shouldn't have said that. I have absolute faith that you know what you're doing and can keep me looking... fabulous!”

Looking up at the maid with a big smile on her face, Tabby still had a look of horror. Sputtering, Tabby said,

“But... but... but you said...”

Wrapping her robe around her, Ginny came over to the maid and pulled her hands into her own. Knowing that she was going against years of strict training, Ginny looked into her little maid's eyes and said, “Tabby, I don't say it enough, but I really appreciate all you do for me. I respect your opinion and value your help. You are more than just a servant. You're a person, with sense and kindness and... Well, I just want you to forget everything I've said before. Oh, and thank you.”

Tears popped into the maid's eyes. Grabbing her hands away, she wiped at the tears. “Thank you, miss.”

“Please call me Bethany. I may have been born into a home with more money, but that doesn't make me a better person. I pay you to help me, not put up with abuse. I might be in a bad mood sometimes, but that is no reason to take it out on you. And you don't have to thank me. I should be the one thanking you.”

Tabby looked paralyzed. Ginny began to worry that she had went too far. It looked as if her little maid could not handle being handed so much of her dignity back at once. Taking a deep breath, Ginny simply said, “So which dress do you think would make me look good as I parade in front of all those eligible bachelors?”

Tabby's eyes flitted back and forth for a moment. She then lifted her shoulders, looked Ginny straight in the eyes and said, “The pink would bring out your complexion, I think. I could do your hair more casually, to enhance your beautiful eyes.”

Smiling cheerfully, Ginny turned back to the wash basin. “Well, we better get to it. I have a lot of competition.” With that, Ginny went back to washing and Tabby went back to getting things ready. When Ginny left the room, she noticed that the halls were quiet. Making her way down the impressive staircase, she saw that there was no sign of anyone. Walking up to a footman, she asked, “Can you direct me to breakfast, please.”

The footman looked at her as if she had two heads. What the hell? she wondered as he walked her to the breakfast room. When she entered, there was no one there, no food on the sidebar, not even any plates or silverware. Turning to the footman, she asked, “How early is it?”

“I believe it is just nine o'clock, miss.”

“What time do most people get up?”

“Breakfast is usually served around eleven o'clock, miss.”

Two hours to eat. Dear God! Ginny didn't think she would make it that long. Suddenly, the butler came forward and asked, “May I be of some assistance, miss?”

“I must have woken too early, sir.”

“Please call me Pearce, miss. I would be happy to have cook make you a plate. Please have a seat.” He turned and directed her to the large, rectangular table in the room. He immediately pulled out a chair and asked,

“Would you like some coddled eggs and toast?”

Ginny had no idea what “coddled” eggs were, but figured they couldn't be that bad. “Yes, thank you, Pearce.”

“I believe Cook has made some blackberry jam,” Pearce said, looking at her for approval.

“That sounds delightful.”

“Tea, as well, miss?”

Tea, she thought grimly. Ginny had been without coffee for months and sometimes wondered if she would ever get some again. Smiling at the butler, she simply said, “Yes, thank you.”

With that, the butler disappeared behind a door. Looking around the room, Ginny noticed a newspaper at the head of the table. She walked over, picked it up and returned to her spot. The print was small and some of the articles were trite, but Ginny was enjoying getting a different perspective of the time period. For one thing, she was able to find out the year: 1802. Ginny doubted the paper was daily, so she wasn't sure of the actual date, except that it was July.

She became so engrossed in an article about scandals in the ton, that she never heard him enter. When he cleared his throat to announce himself, Ginny nearly jumped out of her seat. Pulling the paper away from her face, she found Lord Whitmore standing behind her, smiling.

“Well, Miss Hamilton, you seem to be an early riser as well.”

“Yes, it would seem.” Just then, the butler returned with a plate of food, a pot of tea, and the necessary utensils to go with it. Arranging the plate in front of her, Ginny felt ridiculous. She could look at it like it was a restaurant, but it just felt wrong to be so waited on. She would have preferred to go to the kitchen herself and make her own meal.

After he completed his task by pouring her some tea, the butler turned to Lord Whitmore and asked if he was ready for his breakfast. It must have been then that he realized that Ginny was holding the newspaper, because he stared at it in her hands.

“I'm sorry. I noticed this while I was waiting.” Ginny quickly folded it back up and handed it to Lord Whitmore.

With a smile, Whitmore took the paper from her hands and turned to the butler. “Yes, Pearce. The usual, please.”

If looks could kill, Ginny'd be dead. Pearce, the butler, seemed quite put out by her absconding the paper from its rightful owner. Ginny felt bad, but couldn't understand why. It wasn't like she'd ruined the news by reading it.

Sitting down across from her, instead of at the head of the table, Whitmore watched as she ate her breakfast. He noticed that Bethany tentatively ate her eggs, as if she'd never before had coddled eggs. When she discovered the jam, she cheerfully scooped up some onto her plate and dabbled it onto her toast. Paying no attention to him, she sipped her tea and continued her meal. Whitmore was intrigued.

“Does the food meet your expectations?” he asked while she sipped her tea.

“It's quite good, thank you. The jam is spectacular. Nothing like I've had before.” Oops, she thought squinting her eyes slightly, was that too much information?

Before he could respond, the butler returned with another tray. She noticed his plate was similar to hers, except his had the added bonus of some kind of undercooked looking meat. Ginny was glad it hadn't landed on her plate. What truly surprised her was the small pot that contained a liquid far darker than tea.

“Is that coffee?” she asked, surprised and hopeful. Ginny didn't live on coffee, but she enjoyed her morning cup. Giving it up wasn't the worst of her sacrifices, but it felt good to get something familiar back. Whitmore quirked an eyebrow at her. “Yes, of course.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't know that was a choice.” Looking at the butler, she asked, “May I have some coffee?”

Whitmore smiled. She looked absolutely desperate. When the butler returned with the coffee, she added a little sugar and cream, then smelled the aroma before sipping the hot liquid. The change to her face was noticeable. It went from anticipation to relief, like a drug addict getting his first hit of the day.

“I do not believe I have ever seen a woman drink coffee before.”

Ginny scrunched up her face and looked across the table. “Really,” was all she replied. She knew she had to get used to the way things were. Feminism was probably only in its beginning stages and probably not at all among her class. Women were still owned by men, never being able to hold property and with very few career choices.

Whitmore sensed a change in her demeanor. He didn't understand it, so he went about eating his breakfast and reading the newspaper. As he read an article about Napoleon, he grunted. The problem with empires, he thought grimly, was having to deal with too many things at once.

“Which article are you reading?” Ginny asked, curious about his grunt.

“Napoleon conquering the Continent.” He was curt, figuring she was just as curt to him earlier. Ginny had a high level view of history, not entirely certain of all the details. Of course, she knew that eventually Napoleon would be defeated at Waterloo and sent to cool his heels on Elba. Skipping any details that might come out later and prove her ability to “see into the future”, she simply said, “After being defeated in Egypt, I would think England has little to fear from Napoleon.”

Pulling down the paper, Whitmore looked back at his astute guest. She was young, but seemed not to be as frivolous as the other young ladies attending his party in the hopes of meeting a future husband. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded her somewhat differently. “It would be irresponsible for England to become complacent. The Treaty of Amiens does not ensure our safety against a man so insistent on conquering the world.”

“I agree. England should continue to build up its resources in the event Napoleon gets any grand ideas.”

Ginny had no idea what she was talking about or if her facts were even remotely accurate, but she had to admit that she sounded good.

Turning his head slightly, he said, “You are well informed, Miss Hamilton. I imagine that comes from reading the newspaper.”

“Also from reading anything else. I guess I was never one for embroidery.” Ginny knew from her memories that Bethany did do embroidery, but never much cared for it and wasn't very good at it. She continued to regard him to see his reactions. After their battle over “inappropriate topics,” she wondered if this might be included.

“I find reading to be an admirable pursuit. Expanding one's mind is always beneficial.”

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Even for a woman?”

A smile played across his face. “Even for a woman.”

“I think, perhaps, that you and I may see eye to eye on certain subjects, Lord Whitmore,” she said, smiling back at him.

“Indeed.”

When she had finished her breakfast, Ginny had to admit that she had no idea what she was going to do next. Normally at home, on a day off, she would plop in front of her computer and catch up on email. There were always shows recorded on her DVR to catch up with or somewhere to go hiking. But here, she was at a loss. She rose from the table, about to head back to her room, when Lord Whitmore spoke.

“Would you care for that tour of the gardens now, Miss Hamilton?”

Hallelujah, she thought. Something to do! “Yes, that would be lovely.” Lovely and delightful were becoming very much part of her everyday vocabulary. Goodbye to awesome and bitching!

Whitmore stood and offered her his arm. They strolled together to the upper terrace, where he then took her down the rounded stone staircase to the lower level. He was pointing out aspects of his design, flower and tree placement and certain statuary of which he was rather proud. Ginny soon became caught up in his enthusiasm.

“I have a maze, you know.”

“I did not know that. Is there a secret to it?” she asked, knowing his answer before he said it.

“It wouldn't be much of a secret if I told you, would it?” Bingo, she'd guessed right.

“The land around your home is vast and it is a beautiful time of year. Everything is so green and lush. Perhaps I will go walking later.”

“Do you ride, Miss Hamilton?”

Damn, not horses again, she thought. Turns out Bethany was an adequate rider, but would that transfer to Ginny? She didn't know and was a little afraid to find out.

“A little. I hate to admit that horses sometimes frighten me. The whole 'minds of their own' thing, I guess.”

Laughing out loud, he remarked, “Miss Hamilton. I am surprised. You seem so confident in other areas that to admit this weakness seems unimaginable.”

Smiling in return, enjoying their banter, she replied, “We can't all be good at everything. I'm afraid I'm only good at almost everything.”

Stopping, he turned to her, looking into her eyes and said rather seriously, “I am sure you are.” The smile was gone, but he didn't seem unhappy to Ginny. If anything, she thought he might kiss her. He stared at her like she was the main course on his dinner plate.

Turning her eyes away first, not sure the reason for her sudden shyness, she pointed out some pretty pink flowers and asked what they were. They continued walking around the garden, discussing different varieties of roses and tulips. Their conversation continued, but they kept to safe topics. Once they reached the end of the garden proper, Whitmore showed Ginny some of the walking and riding trails that traversed the countryside, but were still considered his property.

“I shall take you riding tomorrow. We will leave after breakfast.”

Trying to ignore his pushiness, she said, “Would that be proper, my lord. We'll be unchaperoned.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment. “Would your mother join us?”

“Not at that time of the morning.” Ginny realized that her parents were only now rising. By the time they returned to the house, everyone else would be having breakfast.

“Yes, it would be improper. However, if we stay along the trail, in highly visible places, I do not see any issue with it.”

Raising her eyebrow, she said, “Doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you.”

They turned and walked back to the house. Ginny was beginning to wonder if Clarendon was the one she was here to fall in love with after all. Could it be Whitmore instead? Most of the novels she read were pretty transparent. The hero and heroine were obvious, although sometimes there were subplots that involved lesser characters. It wasn't like she always knew who was going to get it on with whom. Still enjoying the gentle breeze and captivating gardens, Ginny would have to keep an open mind.

Chapter 4

The afternoon was spent playing silly games that the unmarried, pure girls came up with. Outdoor pursuits included lawn bowling and archery. Indoor games featured charades and cards. All in all, Ginny kept to herself to avoid the giggles and sighs of those trying to make good matches. Late in the afternoon, she found herself in the library, looking over the books Lord Whitmore and his family had collected over the past decades. The room smelled like an old used bookstore: glue, leather and dust. Walking past the volumes on every possible subject: horticulture, farming, seamanship, etc..., she came upon some fiction.

Selecting a book based solely on the title, she found a big, leather armchair located near the window. Ginny sat down and opened the book, only to find herself preoccupied by the view out the window. It was moments like this that Ginny was lost to the surrealness of the moment. She was in 1802, with relative strangers, trying to flirt her way into a marriage that she didn't want. It was these quiet times, when she wanted to go home, visit her parents house and have her mom's pot roast.

So involved in her own thoughts, Ginny didn't hear him enter. “What has your attention so completely, Miss Hamilton?” His beautiful eyes and his perfect smile stared at her while she continued to stare out the window.

“Head in the clouds, I guess, Lord Clarendon. What brings you to the library, when there are so many activities to be enjoyed?”

“You.” His frankness finally drew her out of her reverie. “I had hoped you would take a turn around the gardens with me. Your mother has agreed to walk with us.”

“My mother agreed to allow you to walk with me? Really?”

“I may have an over-exaggerated reputation, Miss Hamilton, but I am still quite rich and quite titled. It does have a tendency to open certain avenues that might have once been thought closed.”

He really was too cute for his own good. “I would be delighted to walk with you, my lord.” Ginny stood and placed the book back where it belonged. Clarendon looked as if he was going to say something, but then refrained. Ginny wondered if he was curious as to why she would clean up after herself. Offering his arm, Ginny placed her hand, once again, into the crook. His muscled were taunt, as if he were nervous. They walked to the terrace in silence, stopping in front of Bethany's mother. Her mother was so engaged in a conversation of gossip, that she didn't even notice them walk up.

“Mrs. Hamilton, I beg your pardon,” Clarendon said, smiling and charming. “Perhaps we could take that turn now?”

Turning her head, she looked put out. Turning back to her friends, she said over her shoulder, “Stay where we can see you. I shall stay here.”

Raising an eyebrow to Ginny, Lord Clarendon simply replied, “Of course.”

Ginny and Clarendon walked down the same staircase Whitmore and she had used earlier. Keeping to the path, they wandered silently past the flower beds. Is something wrong? she wondered as they continued their walk. Is he nervous? Did I do something wrong?

Ginny now wondered if Lord Whitmore had taken her advice and had a little discussion with Clarendon about his inappropriate topics. “It is a lovely day, is it not, my lord?” Aaahh, the small talk of the English aristocracy... so entertaining.

“It is, quite lovely. Did I say something to offend you last evening?”

It would seem, Ginny realized, that Lord Whitmore did have a talk with him. “Absolutely not. I enjoyed our conversation. I was in no way offended. Frankly, I don't see the reason to be so roundabout with what I want to say.”

“I got the impression from Whitmore that perhaps we should restrict our discussions to the weather.”

Ginny stopped and faced him. “He seems to be afraid of a scandal. Considering your reputation, he may have reason for that.”

Looking into her eyes, smiling his roguish smile, he spoke quietly, “I believe you may be my only source of consolation during this party, Miss Hamilton.”

“Now, what shall we talk about that is not on the safe list of topics?” Ginny wondered how far she could push it and not be deemed a troublemaker, not that Ginny was above being a troublemaker. Clarendon considered this for a moment. He was very good at making small talk and making girls giggle. So far, Bethany seemed quite immune to his charms. She found him attractive, he knew, but she hadn't pursued him and continuously engage him in meaningless chat.

Finally, she asked, “What sort of things did you do as a youth, my lord? Were you the rapscallion I imagine or were you quite reserved?”

Interesting question, Clarendon thought to himself. “I was quite the hellion, Miss Hamilton. I went through governesses and tutors on a nearly daily basis.” As he spoke of his childhood, they continued their walk around the garden. He was in his element, speaking about himself. He also enjoyed an audience that he knew would not judge him.

“So you see, Miss Hamilton. I may be quite irredeemable.”

“Lord Clarendon, I know it is quite improper, but I would prefer if you called me Bethany,” Ginny said, knowing that she would really prefer he call her Ginny, but could not think of any logical reason why he should do that. “At least when we are alone.”

He smiled and said, “I would like that too, Bethany.”

When he said nothing else, she stopped him, bunched up her eyebrows and asked, “And may I call you by your first name?”

“Well, now, that would be even more improper. My mother never referred to my father by his Christian name, even when alone.”

“I'm not your mother, my lord.”

“No, you are definitely not. My Christian name is Miles. I would be honored if you called me Miles when we are alone. I would be very careful not to refer to me as such in company such as your mother or Lord Whitmore though.”

“I spoke to Lord Whitmore for most of the morning and never got the feeling that he would allow me the same courtesy.”

“I daresay not.” Continuing their walk, he asked, “You spent this morning with Lord Whitmore?” Miles was striving for nonchalance, but thought he may have sounded curiously desperate.

“Yes. I woke up very early, not even realizing that most people didn't get up until after ten. The only other person up was Lord Whitmore. We had breakfast together and then took a stroll through the gardens.”

“And what did you have to talk about. You could not have been expounding on the weather for all that time.”

Miles hated to admit that he was extremely curious. Whitmore had on many an occasion expressed a desire not to marry anytime soon. He had traveling plans that he didn't want interrupted. For him to spend so much time with an unmarried woman would be strange for a man with his plans.

“Mostly we talked about politics. I stole his newspaper this morning and read it before he came to breakfast. We discussed the articles.” Ginny paused for a moment, wondering if she should ask him about Whitmore. In the end, she figured it didn't really matter. “Tell me, Miles. Have you known Lord Whitmore long?”

“We went to school together. I tried valiantly to get him into trouble and he tried just as valiantly to keep me out of it. So, you see, we were meant to be friends.”

“He has been very kind to me, taking time out of his day to entertain me. I was surprised though. My father made it very clear to my mother that Lord Whitmore didn't want to get married. At his age and considering his need for an heir, I was curious as to why. He didn't seem the type of man who...” Ginny stopped, waiting to see if Miles would pick up her unspoken question.

“The type of man who what, Bethany?” Well, he either didn't pick up the unspoken question or he was forcing her to ask him. Either way, she couldn't help but smile.

“Between you and me, my lord, I've heard that some men do not seek out female attention. Instead they prefer only... male attention.” Ginny couldn't have said it any better, judging by the look on Clarendon's face. Miles motioned to a bench under a tree in the garden. After Ginny sat down, he sat next to her, and considered his words carefully. “Whitmore came into his title early. His father died only a month after we left the university. While I was gallivanting across the Continent, he was busy learning the estate and caring for his mother and sister. Now, with his mother living with her brother and his sister married, he now has time to travel as he has always wanted. I assure you, Bethany, Whitmore is only interested in female attention.”

Wondering at her reaction, he was quite surprised when she said, “Good for him. He should take some time to do what he wants for once. I'm sure he has to deal with a lot. This holiday would be just the thing. I only wish that travel were an option for me.”

“Perhaps your husband will take you on your honeymoon. I have always wanted to go back, myself.”

Did he mean what she thought he meant? Well, at least it solved the mystery of who she was here to fall in love with. Now she had to figure out what the big “problem” they would have to face was. Solve the problem, get married, have incredible sex, and now maybe get to travel through Europe. The story is really shaping up, she thought.

“Whitmore is planning a soirée this Friday. I am hoping to encourage some dancing. Would you be kind enough to reserve a dance for me?”

“Of course,” Ginny said tentatively. She was scouring her brain, trying to see if she could dance or not. Bethany must know all the steps and hopefully Ginny wouldn't muck it up by thinking too much. Her face must have been furrowed, because Miles said, “I promise to behave myself.”

What, she thought. “Oh, no, Miles. To be honest, I'm not the best dancer. I just don't want to embarrass myself. I would hate to see you humiliated by my bad showing.”

Looking into her eyes, lowering his voice although they were alone, he replied, “I cannot imagine ever being embarrassed by you, Miss... I mean, Bethany.”

His voice was like a caress. Ginny found herself staring at his eyes, those deep chocolate brown orbs. She couldn't help but lower her gaze to his mouth. She watched as the corners rose into a smile. Raising her eyes back up, she saw the gleam in his eyes. Apparently, Miles Clarendon, the Fifth Viscount Clarendon, now knew that Ginny was more than willing to kiss him, if given the proper chance. Miles Clarendon was the type of man who used his position and his good looks to his advantage. When he told Miss Hamilton that his reputation was probably only ten percent of what people said, he hadn't been quite truthful. Although he was sure he wasn't nearly as bad as most of the gossip, he certainly wasn't an angel either. The truth was, he liked women. He liked them so much, he had endeavored to savor every type he could get his hands on.

Whitmore, on the other hand, had always been more subdued. When seeking out female attention, as Bethany had put it, he was extremely discreet. He knew of only a few of his paramours, one being a young widow of a former friend of theirs. He was honorable to an extreme, which is why Miles was so confused by his behavior towards the young Miss Hamilton.

Whitmore would not shower attention on a woman he did not intend to marry. Miles had little doubt he would consider it lacking in chivalry to get a girl's hopes up like that. As far as Miles could remember, Whitmore had never even danced with an unmarried girl, sticking strictly to married women or widows. And so, it seemed to Miles that Whitmore might just be interested in Miss Hamilton after all. This was a conflict to their friendship since Bethany was the first girl he'd met that he felt he could marry. She was a pretty girl, not beautiful as some of the women of the ton were, but very pleasing to the eye. She was extremely intelligent, but also witty and unconventional. Bethany came off as much more mature and willing to test the limits of polite society.

After returning her to her mother, Miles went in search of Whitmore to ask him exactly what his intentions were toward the girl. Certainly not out of chivalry, but more out of respect for their lengthy friendship. His quarry was found in his study, looking over ledgers and making notes.

“Good afternoon, Whitmore. I see you have managed to find the least amusing thing to do at your party.”

“Clarendon,” was his only reply. Miles was used to being put off until Whitmore was ready. After a moment, he put the ledger to the side and sat back in his chair, giving his friend his full attention.

“What can I do for you, Clare. I had noticed you walking about the garden with Miss Hamilton earlier. Has your pursuit ended so quickly?”

Before answering, Miles went to the sidebar and helped himself to some wine. Turning, he gestured to ask if Whitmore wanted some. Shaking his head in reply, Miles poured himself a glass and sat down in the overstuffed armchair on the other side of Whitmore's desk.

Taking a sip and deciding to be rather blunt, he asked, “So, are you interested in the Hamilton chit?”

Whitmore regarded his long time friend carefully. Clarendon knew his intentions, as well as the fact that he did not wish to marry until his return, so why was he asking such a pointed question. It occurred to him that maybe Miss Hamilton had said something. Had he inadvertently given her the impression that he was seeking her hand. He certainly hoped not.

“She is a guest in my home, Clare. That is my only interest in her. Why do you ask?”

“She mentioned that you two spent some time together this morning, alone in your garden. That seems unusual for a man not interested in marrying.”

“Did she think that I had other intentions?” Whitmore was now worried. He would never intentionally demonstrate feelings he didn't have, certainly not at the expense of a young lady.

“No. She asked me about you. I told her your plans and she seemed quite... happy for you. Said you deserved the holiday and she hoped you enjoyed yourself.”

“Well, then.” He didn't know how to feel about that. Whitmore certainly admired the girl, appreciated her beauty and intelligence, and enjoyed their discussions. He also wanted to continue their “friendship” until the end of the party, but why was he feeling somewhat put off. Was he not as eligible as the rest of his guests, as Clarendon? Shaking his head over his own stupidity, he let it go. He'd been given a reprieve from a marital death sentence. He should be happy, not distressed.

Before he could stop himself, Whitmore asked his friend, “What about you, old friend? You seem to be spending a great deal of time with her and here it is only the second day.”

“I am considering courting her. She is more than ample to be a good wife. She is also unconventional enough to suit me.”

“What do you mean, unconventional?”

“Well, our conversation was not limited to the weather.” Noticing his friend's face, he hastened, “Now, Whitmore, nothing scandalous. She is simply honest and mature. Not a single giggle the entire time we walked together. I have to admit that most of the girls coming out are childish and off-putting.”

“I certainly agree with that assessment. So, you wanted to make sure that I was not interested as well?”

“Indeed. No woman is worth losing a friend over. Now that I have your assurance, I will consider her more closely. Thank you, good man.” Clarendon continued to drink his wine.

That funny feeling returned to Whitmore. An altogether strange feeling he didn't think he'd ever felt before. Rather than analyze it, he simply returned to his ledger.

Chapter 5

After returning to her room, Ginny found Tabby examining all her gowns for just the perfect one. Smiling, she asked, “Well, Tabby. What's it going to be?”

“I thought to bring out your hair this evening, miss. I thought the white gown, with burgundy accents would do well.”

“Sounds good.” Ginny went about removing the clothes she'd worn today. Then, using the leftover water in the basin, she began to wash herself, removing the sweat of the day.

“Some of the servants were talking today, miss.”

“Really. And what was their topic?” Ginny dragged out each word for dramatic effect.

“It seems that one of the young ladies had both the attention of Lord Whitmore and Lord Clarendon.”

“And this was gossip because...” Ginny asked, knowing that many of the young women in attendance were already talking about her behind her back. First of all, she didn't play silly games with them. They were all eighteen or nineteen years old, Ginny was thirty and had little tolerance for immaturity. Second, none of them could corner the two most eligible bachelors by themselves. The group moved together en masse, excluding Ginny of course. When Lord Clarendon escorted her privately through the garden today, it caused quite a stir.

“Well, the way I heard it, this lady did nothing to cause such attention. It seems both gentlemen asked for her company, without her needing to flirt at all.” As it was turning out, Tabby had a quick wit and a sarcastic sense of humor. Ginny was thrilled. She and Tabby were truly well matched.

“How scandalous! Now, the question is... which man should she choose? The stable, but perhaps somewhat dull, earl. Or the future duke who has a reputation for seeking out as much female company as possible. Mostly female company that already has husbands.”

“That is a good question. I would not want to be the lady to make such a decision.”

“Well, it seems that the stable earl has decided to put off marriage in lieu of a trip to the Continent. So that only leaves the future duke. Have your sources determined if any of the other eligible gentlemen are worth this particular lady's attention?”

“The gossip is quite interesting concerning the other gentlemen. Mr. Frederick's likes to gamble and drink. Lord Huntington frequents loose women. And I haven't heard anything about the others, but I will keep my ears open for you.”

“Thank you, Tabby. You are proving quite resourceful.” Tabby beamed with pride. Apparently acknowledging someone's contribution can make all the difference to that person's self-esteem.

“So, Bethany, you divide your time between a man known by his bad reputation and the one who has no interest in getting married. How do you plan to make a good match when you will not speak to any of the other delightful gentlemen here?” After only thirty seconds in her parent's company and she was being raked across the coals.

“That young Mr. Thompson seems quite nice. I am told he is in trade, being only a cousin to an earl and having to make his own way in the world, but he has done quite well in doing so. I shall request to Lord Whitmore that he be your dinner partner this evening.”

Nothing amazed Ginny more than the fact that she said absolutely nothing and yet everything was decided for her. In her great wisdom, she choose to remain quiet. If everything was decided, she couldn't be blamed for the outcome. If only real life were so simple.

Her mother did get her wish. That young Mr. Thompson did escort her to dinner. He was handsome, but short, only barely the same height as Bethany. Not that it mattered, as it was obvious nothing would come of it. If Ginny wasn't sure of that before dinner, his incessant talk of the beautiful and talented Miss Jennings certainly eliminated any doubts. When not speaking of her many attributes, he would stare quietly across the table at her. Ginny turned to her other dinner partner, Mr. Bradbury, and spoke to him about his duties as the regional squire. Not a topic of great interest to her, just better than listening to the lovesick Mr. Thompson talk about the superior Miss Jennings.

After dinner, Bethany's mother pushed her to join the other young ladies to get to know them better. So, not wanting to be harangued any longer, Ginny did as she was told and wandered over to the group. The current topic was who would be the first to become betrothed. Seeing her chance to speak, Ginny remarked, “I believe that Miss Jennings may be receiving an offer soon enough.”

Not having been noticed until she spoke, the girls all turned and stared at Ginny. The girl introduced to her as Miss Alvinia Slowden-Plough looked her square in the eye and asked, “What makes you think that?”

Every girl stared at Ginny with rapt attention. Obviously they were too busy gossiping about her to consider that she might be a woman of information. “Mr. Thompson spent the better part of dinner describing Miss Jennings's many attributes. Your talent and beauty surpass us all.”

Miss Jennings blushed and Miss Slowden-Plough snorted in derision. “Really, Miss Hamilton. I would say you have not been paying much attention to the rest of us and our dealings with the other gentlemen. Why, Lord Huntington complimented me before dinner on my selection of gown. He said it brought out the color of my eyes.”

Smiling the fake smile of pretending you care, Ginny replied, “How nice for you. I have not yet spoken to him, but he seems a very astute fellow.” Ginny wondered for a moment if any of the girls picked up on her sarcasm.

Alvinia, who was just warming up, continued to regale the troop with all the compliments she'd received over the past two days. Rolling her eyes and praying for patience, Ginny stood still and waited to be saved. Alvinia was that girl in high school who absolutely knew she was better than everyone else and had no qualms about letting you know exactly what was wrong with you, in the hopes of masking her own insecurity.

“Really, Trinity, you need to stand up straighter. No man likes a slouch.” Turning an eye to Ginny, she said,

“Miss Hamilton, Bethany, isn't it?” Ginny nodded. “I believe you should discuss with your maid your hairstyle. It seems a bit old fashioned to me.” This caused a round of nervous giggles from the group. Ginny smiled and said, “Thank you, Alvinia. I shall consider doing just that. I should tell you that you have something in your teeth. I believe it may be parsley.”

Gasping, Alvinia quickly left the room in search of a mirror. All the girls looked at Ginny with something close to awe. Ginny guessed that up until that point, they were too afraid to speak a word against Miss Slowden-Plough. There was only one way to handle a bullies: humiliate them. The men began to rejoin the group, so the giggle fest was about to begin. Putting on a face of blank contentment, Ginny wandered to the other side of the room, once again taking her position at the window. Who will approach me tonight, she thought, not really caring if anyone did. One of the best things about living someone else's life was that you could totally screw it up and not care otherwise. Tonight it would be Lord Huntington's turn. He was older, probably into his forties, with attractive eyes and graying hair. He was soft spoken, but as Ginny had sarcastically stated earlier, quite astute. Luckily for Ginny, he wasn't prone to flattery or hyperbole like some of the other gentlemen. All in all, they had a very satisfying conversation about his country home in Suffolk.

Later when readying for bed, Tabby asked how the evening went. Putting on her nightgown, Ginny sat to have her hair let down and said, “I am beginning to realize that none of these men care about me.” Tabby snorted as if to say no kidding.

Laughing, Ginny continued, “I mean, none of them ask questions about me. I know all about Lord Clarendon's childhood and Mr. Thompson's love of Miss Jennings and Lord Huntington's country home in Suffolk. But I can't remember a single one of them asking me what I like to do or where I live most of the year. Do men not want to know anything about the woman they might marry?”

“I think not, miss. I believe they are more interested in knowing that you can make polite conversation and not embarrass them. They may want to know if you plan to spend all their money.”

“What a shame. How about you, Tabby? Do you have anyone special in your life?” It pained Ginny to have to ask. After having Tabby as a maid for over two years, she realized that Bethany knew absolutely nothing about her. As far as she was concerned, Tabby was a non-person.

Blushing, Tabby kept brushing Ginny's hair. Finally, when Ginny thought she wouldn't fess up, Tabby said quietly, “The head groomsman at your parent's estate and I are familiar. He had brought me flowers on my birthday.”

“Well, Tabby, if I have the good grace to get married, I will promise you this. I will hire my parent's groomsman and bring him with us. You certainly deserve love in your life as well.”

Blinking back the tears, she bowed and left the room for the night. Ginny stood for a moment beside her open window and looked out at the garden below. Smelling the jasmine and roses, she enjoyed the gentle breeze that cooled down the room. Smiling, she went to bed.

Outside her room, down in the garden, Lord Whitmore wandered his domain, keeping to the shadows as he smoked his cigar. Catching a glimpse of Miss Hamilton at her bedroom window, he stopped and stared. With the light behind her, he could clearly see the outline of her body through the thin cotton of her night gown. He noticed her long legs, her curved hips and especially, her large breasts. He found himself looking forward to tomorrow's outing with her. Now that he knew that she knew he was unavailable, it seemed safe enough. If only he could get over this feeling like he was missing out on something. At least if she married Clarendon, he could still talk to her on occasion. Frowning slightly, he just didn't know if that would be enough.

Chapter 6

Tabby entered the room less reticent that morning, now that Ginny had forged a new relationship between them. Setting down the hot water, Tabby went about choosing clothing for the day.

“I am thinking you should wear the yellow dress today, miss.”

“Oh, Tabby, I forgot to tell you. I'm going riding with Lord Whitmore today.”

“Really?” It wasn't so much the word she used as how she said it. Like there was more to Ginny and the dull earl than she let on the day before.

“Yes, really. I told you he has no interest in marrying.”

“Then why does he have such an interest in spending time with you?” Ginny realized at the moment how much Tabby reminded her of Lisa, her best friend from her own time period. Not so subtle sarcasm, mixed with genuine friendship. It made her sad for a moment realizing it.

“Are you saying I have nothing to offer a man but marriage?” Two could play at that game. Silent for moment, clearly considering her words carefully, she said, “You have a lot to offer. I doubt any gentlemen within fifty miles could see it though.” Smiling, Ginny thought that she met Lisa's former self, if she had believed in reincarnation.

“Thank you for the compliment. Now, what am I wearing?”

“You have a lovely red riding habit. Who will be chaperoning you this early in the morning?”

“No one. Lord Whitmore feels that if we stick to open spaces, it should not be a problem being unchaperoned.”

“Really.” There was that word again. Ginny decided to continue getting washed up and ignore all the implications of that one word.

Entering the breakfast room, Ginny found Lord Whitmore already sitting down, waiting for his breakfast. As soon as he saw her enter, he jumped up and pulled out the chair across from his. He felt ridiculous. He woke up early in anticipation of their ride today.

“Thank you, my lord.” Ginny noticed he seemed more animated today. Pearce entered with his breakfast and quickly turned to her.

“Would you care for some eggs and toast again this morning, miss?”

“Yes, thank you, Pearce.”

“Cook has made up kidneys this morning.”

Yikes, did he say kidneys? As in the bodily organ? “No thank you, Pearce. Not this morning. I would, however, like some coffee please.”

“Very good, miss.” And with that, he disappeared behind the corner door. Ginny observed that Whitmore was watching her carefully, not eating his breakfast.

“Please don't wait for me, my lord. I wouldn't want your breakfast to get cold.” It seemed more fun to flirt with him now that she knew nothing would come of it. He was safe and they could be friends. She didn't have to worry about doing exactly the right thing. She could almost be herself. He regarded her for another moment and went about buttering his toast. “Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Hamilton?”

“Yes, I am. I have been fortunate enough to receive not only your attention, but the attention of a few of your guests.”

“Lord Clarendon speaks quite highly of you.”

“Does he? I'm glad. He regaled me with stories of his youth yesterday. Quite the scamp.”

“Did he tell you that we went to school together?” Whitmore now worried about what Clarendon may have told her of his childhood. He hadn't been nearly as reserved as he was now.

“Yes. He said that he spent most of his time trying to get you into trouble and you spent most of your time trying to keep him out of it. He didn't mention, however, who was more successful.”

Quirking his lip into a smirk, he replied, “Unfortunately, Miss Hamilton, Lord Clarendon was more successful.”

“Really. I should hope you will have some stories to tell me while we ride this morning.” Ginny found she was very interested in hearing how this staunch earl got into trouble.

Pearce returned with her breakfast and they ate in companionable silence. When finished, Whitmore pulled her chair out for her and provided his arm. As they walked out the door, Pearce handed Whitmore his riding crop and hat. Ginny took the time to attach her hat as well while gazing in the hallway mirror. On their way to the stables, Ginny began to feel anxious about their ride. She could feel her steps slowing as they made their way across the cobblestones of the courtyard. The huge butterflies in her stomach were now making her nauseous. Fine beads of sweat broke out across her forehead and her breathing became unsteady. Ginny didn't know if she could do it.

Ginny had ridden horses before, but never sidesaddle. The thought of one of her legs dangling uselessly made her stomach do all new flips. She hadn't really cared to ride astride either, but at least she felt a little more in control. Whitmore noticed her hesitation.

“Are you alright, Miss Hamilton?”

Stopping him, Ginny turned to him and begged, “Please tell me we won't gallop or go very fast or jump over anything.”

Staring into her eyes, seeing her fear, Whitmore felt awful, like he was throwing her to the wolves. “I promise we shall take only a leisurely ride, no fences and no hard riding. I merely want to show you around the estate. If you would prefer, we could take my curricle.”

Curricle? What's a curricle? she thought to herself frantically. It had to be better, but something stopped her from agreeing. Ginny liked a challenge and as long as they went slow, she figured it was better than chickening out.

“No. I think we should ride. I appreciate you being willing to take it slow. I'm sorry if it will ruin the ride for you.”

His face was unreadable, but he seemed to be stifling a smile. Clearing his throat, he looked at her with all due seriousness. “The pleasure of the ride is spending time with an intelligent lady of information. Not charging the hills as if in battle.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Ginny smiled. Her breathing calmed down and she wasn't as sweaty. “Thank you, my lord, for being so understanding and not making fun of me.”

As they continued on their way to the stables he said, “I would not make fun of you, Miss Hamilton. That would be very ungentlemanly, would it not?”

“Yes, but that doesn't always stop someone from doing something, does it?”

“No, it does not. I do try to be a gentleman most of the time.” Quirking his eyebrow and looking down into her eyes as they walked, he made her smile. He was full of simple gestures that spoke volumes. There weren't many people who could express so much with only their facial expressions. Whitmore chose one of his most docile mares for her. After it was saddled, he assisted Ginny with mounting. Putting his hands on her waist, she put her foot in the stirrup and he lifted her with ease. As she was lifted, she still had to maneuver her other leg around the pummel and fix her skirts so they were decent. It all just seemed like too much work to be worth it.

Whitmore mounted his horse like a professional and they were soon on their way. Ginny had to use her crop to goad the horse forward, since she had trouble bumping its flanks with only one stirruped foot. She also didn't want to hit the horse too hard to send it galloping away. The two kept the leisurely pace Whitmore had promised. It turned out better for conversation.

Whitmore pointed out many landmarks and commented on some of his tenant's lands. He showed her the lake and trout stream, the mill, the outskirts of the closest village called Headley. Soon they were amongst nothing but the wilderness, so she finally had time to ask questions.

“So, what kind of trouble did you and Lord Clarendon get into?”

He laughed out loud, a boisterous sound that would make anyone smile. “I had hoped you would forget to ask me that, Miss Hamilton. It appears there is nothing amiss with your memory.”

“Like an elephant. Now, stop stalling and start spilling.”

Quirking his eyebrow, he said, “You do have the strangest vocabulary sometimes.”

“And you have a strangest tendency to stall.”

“Right you are.” He seemed to think about what stories he could tell her and those he definitely could not. The story about how they both pursued the milliner's daughter, only to find out later that they not only both caught her, but did so in the same day, seemed wholly inappropriate. He settled on a tale from when they first met, where they stole their Latin teacher's discipline stick and framed a rather tiresome schoolmate with the crime.

His face was so animated in the telling of the tale, Ginny could feel his enthusiasm. She laughed out loud at his description of the boy's face upon finding the stick in his possession at the same time their teacher found it.

“That is truly dreadful. Whatever happened to that poor boy?” she asked.

“Oh, he is married, with a dozen children and keeps his mistress well occupied.” As the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. How had it come that he forgot who he was with and instead treated a young, unmarried lady as if she were one of his male friends?

Before he could apologize, Ginny replied, “A dozen children and a mistress... one would wonder when the poor man sleeps.” Laughing at her own joke, she noticed that Whitmore looked appalled. Her laughter died and her smile faded. It was then that she realized what they had both said and knew the reason for his distress.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Hamilton. That was extremely inappropriate. I apologize for my remark.”

Stopping her horse, which at their speed wasn't that difficult, Ginny took a deep breath. By the time Whitmore noticed and turned his horse around to face her, she looked extremely vexed. Before he could say another word, she said, “Do I look so fragile, sir, that any words you say to me would have some kind of power to... disturb me?”

Whitmore bunched up his eyebrows and looked thoroughly confused. “It was inappropriate. I was only apologizing.”

“Was my remark any less inappropriate?” She took a deep breath and tried to phrase her comment so he would understand. “I am not so sheltered that I don't know what happens between men and women. I'm not asking to have a conversation with you proving this knowledge, but why must everyone apologize all the time for being honest. You answered my question. You did not reveal the forbidden secrets of the universe. I grow weary of having to pretend all the time.”

Ginny felt like she'd reached her limit of “things she could not say.” Judging by the look on poor Lord Whitmore's face, she was really tripping the light fantastic on his gentlemanly sensibilities. He had spent years learning all the rules, only to have her come along and burn the rulebook. It was just as well... she knew they had no destiny together, so couldn't she have one man she could talk to without having to worry that she'd crossed some invisible line?

His scrutiny was almost painful, it looked as if he battled with whether to chastise her or kiss her, which was exactly the feelings he was warring with at that moment. Whitmore had never socialized with innocents, only married or widowed women. He could innocently flirt if necessary, but was more often used to the same kind of honestly that she requested with only men or married women.

“You must realize that any discussions we have could only be limited to certain topics.”

“When we are around others. But when we are alone, can we just see where the conversation takes us. Do I have to always worry that the wrong word will have you angry and chastising me. Can't we just be friends?”

“Are you so open with your female friends?”

“Yes. I don't go around revealing deep, dark secrets, but I do open up and share things with my friends. I don't think you give me much credit, Lord Whitmore.”

He hadn't even thought of it that way. As far as he was concerned, he gave her a lot of credit. Credit for being intelligent, thoughtful and insightful. “I... I can try, Miss Hamilton. I cannot promise anything. I have had too many years of training to be able to completely let it go.”

“Thank you. Now that we have that decided, can you please call me Bethany?”

Whitmore groaned. This was proving harder than he realized. “I do not think that would be appropriate.”

Once again, as the words came out of his mouth, her expression changed completely. Where she had finally relaxed, she began to tense up again.

“I will try... Bethany.” He knew he should stop this behavior and bring them back to a more correct, distant relationship, but he couldn't. The truth was, he enjoyed her company too much to give it up. He just started to relax when she spoke again.

“And may I call you by your first name?”

By this time, he was almost used to her strange requests. “Colin. My given name is Colin.”

“Thank you, Colin. I promise not to call you Colin unless we're alone.” She said it as if that made it better. He began to worry that maybe she did have hopes of a personal attachment with him. Bethany soon put those fears to rest. “Now, how is it you can travel to the Continent when Napoleon is running around like a crazy man?”

Would she ever cease to surprise him? He smiled and answered her questions. Even asked her about her personal life and where she grew up. All in all, the conversation wasn't terribly inappropriate, but much more than about the weather.

On their way back to the house, he asked her something that he'd been wondering about. “I notice you thank the servants a great deal. Why is that? Why do you thank them for doing what they are supposed to do?”

Taking a deep breath and knowing that Colin just opened a Pandora's box that would never again be closed, she said, “Because they do me a service. A service for which I'm appreciative. It's only right to say thank you.”

“I have overheard many of my guests commenting that your behavior could lead to servants getting ideas of being better than they are.”

“Really. How shocking! I will be honest with you, Colin. I don't think you are a better person because you're an earl and Pearce is a butler. He works very hard. Is, as far as I can tell, always available, day or night. Runs the other servants like a drill sergeant and maintains order in your household. I know I couldn't do his job. Wouldn't that make him better than me?”

Colin considered her argument and replied, “What of education and breeding?”

“Ah, yes, breeding.” She was going to say “inbreeding” but decided against it. “If Pearce was born in your place instead of you, had the same advantages, do you think then he would be up to society's standards?”

“His parents would then be part of society and therefore he would have the breeding.”

“What if he were accidentally switched at birth. Or if someone of society found a baby on their doorstep and decided to raise him or her as their own. You wouldn't know the parents. Would that make a difference? Or even better, if some society woman got pregnant, without her husband's knowledge, by say... the footman, do you think you would be able to tell the difference if you were never told?”

He eyed her with suspicion. It didn't matter what he said, he knew she would have an answer. He was somewhat shocked by her brutal honesty. She seemed to know all too well the inner workings of male/female relationships. The truth was he felt the same way. It was the reason he paid his staff well and treated them with respect. “You may have a point, Bethany.”

“Good. Then I have won one as well.”

“What do you mean?” he looked at her again with suspicion.

“The first night we were here. Our talk about 'inappropriate topics.' I conceded to you that causing a scandal would be unfair to you as my host.”

Colin burst out laughing, nearly falling off his horse. “And yet, here we are having one inappropriate conversation after another. I fear, Miss Hamilton, you have conceded nothing.”

“Very well. I will let you win the next argument. Alright?”

“I should say I look forward to winning any argument with you, Miss Hamilton. I imagine it is not an experience I will savor often.”

“Surely not, Colin. Now, do you want to talk about women's rights?”

They rode on together, heading back to the stables. Ginny's face alight with her passions, Colin's with wonderment over someone so young having so many opinions. Most of which, he was certain, her parents would be aghast over.

Chapter 7

The next few days flew by before her eyes. Every morning she spent with Colin, discussing the news, or arguing over social injustices. He was nearly delirious after their discussion of women's rights. Ginny couldn't believe how set he was in his ways, that women should be cared for and sheltered. It goaded her more than anything when he said that she was special because she could discuss certain topics without fainting.

Many of the afternoons were spent with Miles. Although she never sought out his attention, he always managed to show up everywhere she went. They had taken several long walks around the estate, discussing their families, their responsibilities and why he needed to get married. It wasn't terribly romantic, but marriage in their class was not about love. It was about good breeding and raising oneself up advantageously. In the case of Bethany and Miles, she would be elevated to new heights, marrying the son of a duke. After all the hub bub of the past few days, Ginny was relieved to learn that the men had planned a morning outing to shoot. She would have peace and quiet for a few hours, until the giggling horde of marriage desperate girls got up and going. After her breakfast, she found a book and walked down to the lake. Whitmore had set up a gazebo, with seating that looked like Adirondack chairs. In the shade of the ivy covered gazebo, Ginny found some quiet to enjoy her book.

Engrossed in the pages of an early romance novel, Ginny hardly noticed the group of children who were fishing by the lake. Occasionally she would hear their squeals of laughter or their cries over losing their line. It was a familiar sound, having lived in a family friendly neighborhood back home, that she thought nothing of it.

Suddenly the quiet was shattered by screams. Looking up from her book, Ginny noticed that a group of children by the lake were screaming and pointing. In the middle of the lake, there was a young boy, trying to keep his balance on a piece of wood. In the next moment, the boy disappeared under the water, only to come up sputtering and yelling for help.

Ginny didn't even think. She got up and ran to the lake where the other children were yelling instructions to the young boy to hold on. One of the children had run off toward the house, apparently seeking help. Ginny reached the lake in time to see the boy go under and not come back up. The children kept screaming, but she barely heard them. Having spent some of her career in the emergency room, Ginny was used to trauma and drama. She'd trained herself to perform, not panic. With a single-mindedness, hearing only the thoughts of what she should do and how to do them, she went about going into the water. Realizing that her dress would weigh her down too much, Ginny quickly unbuttoned what she could and pulled the dress over her head. What buttons she couldn't reach were torn off. Next came her petticoats, slippers and stockings, then she was diving into the water. It was cool on such a warm day, but it never even entered her mind. Her only thought, drilled over and over again in her mind, was get that boy. The water was murky and brown. It carried the smell of stagnant water, pungent with algae. She swam to the middle, where she'd last seen his small head before it failed to come up again. She dove down, opening her eyes to the brown water, feeling around for what she couldn't see. The mantra continued, holding back the panic: get that boy, get that boy.

She came up sputtering for air. Quickly filling her lungs, she dove down again and almost immediately felt the lifeless arm. It was lucky to find him so quickly. She knew that God must surely be smiling down on her. Dragging him back to the surface of the water, she began the swim back to shore. The closer she got, the more muddy the bottom, pulling at her feet and slowing her progress. Finally, she was able to climb the bank and pull the boy with her. The lifeless body was heavy, dead weight, but she pulled from strength that she didn't know she had. She laid him by the shore of the lake.

The children were all talking at once, but Ginny heard only the little boy's name: Gerard. Pulling his head back, Ginny blew two puffs of air into his lungs. Come on, Gerard, breath, dammit, she thought. After years of training, taking basic life support probably a dozen times, the steps were easy and familiar. Ginny put her fingers to the child's sickeningly white neck and felt for a pulse.

God was once again smiling down on her, because Gerard still had a pulse, which meant he had a chance. Every five seconds she would push air into his lungs. In between she would pray and beg God to help him. After what seemed like forever, but was in reality probably only a minute, Gerard lurched over and began coughing up all the water. Ginny helped turn him to his side and was slapping his back to get the water out of his lungs.

She barely felt the jacket thrown over her shoulders, barely heard the talk of everyone who was suddenly by the edge of the lake. All she heard was this little boy, now breathing and crying and clinging to her as if she were his life force. She felt her own tears, streaming down her face. Slowly, the sound of the boy and of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears began to subside. Looking up, she noticed she had an audience, staring at her in awed silence.

Whitmore and the other men had just arrived back at the house after the shoot. They had bagged several birds, not that it mattered. They were men and they liked to shoot at things. All in all, a good morning's recreation was had by all. During their walk back, there was no shortage of good natured ribbing, mostly surrounding Mr. Thompson nearly killing a dog.

“Clarendon, you seemed to be in a subdued mood today,” Whitmore was quite surprised that Clarendon had joined in the festivities, mostly sticking to the outer edges and keeping quiet and to himself. Acknowledging his friend, he smiled. “I have had a lot to think about as of late.”

“Really. For instance, marriage... perhaps.” Whitmore had never been capable of great subtlety and this was no exception.

“Indeed. I have received word that my father is nearly dying again. This would be, what... the fifth time at least. My mother was most persuasive in trying to get me hitched up.”

Slapping his friend on the back, he said, “I am sorry, old man. But it is the way of the world, is it not?” It suddenly occurred to Whitmore that his old friend would probably be making an offer to Miss Hamilton, since she had been the only girl at the party that Clarendon had spent any time. The feeling of loss both confused and infuriated him. After all, he had his plans, and marriage was not one of them.

“You need not look so forlorn on my account, Whitmore. It is not like marrying is the worst chore to be done by man.” Thankfully, Clarendon misinterpreted his reaction. Whitmore was not about to correct his assumption.

Coming to the side door, the servant's entrance, so that they could deposit their muddy boots, a boy ran up screaming. Whitmore, not thinking twice, ran to the boy to find out what was going on. A few of the men followed, most continued on their way figuring it didn't concern them anyway. Reaching the boy, Whitmore asked, “Stop screaming, boy. Tell me what is wrong.”

Panting from the exertion of running from the lake, he sputtered, “Gerard... cannot swim.... in lake...”

That was all it took for Whitmore to take off in a full run for the lake. He barely noticed Clarendon and Thompson close behind him. He found himself angry. Why would their be unsupervised children by the lake? It was an accident waiting to happen and someone would pay dearly. When the lake came into sight, Whitmore could hardly believe his eyes. There, dragging a small boy onto the shore was a very wet and mostly naked Miss Hamilton. As he pressed on, he could see her leaning over the boy, kissing his face, then turning her ear to listen. Is the boy alright, he thought as he reached the shoreline. Once close enough, he saw she wasn't kissing the boy, but blowing air into his mouth. Every few seconds she would repeat the process, then turn her ear to the boy's mouth and listen. Suddenly, the boy lurched to the side and vomited water all over the ground. As Bethany turned him, she was slapping his back. It was then that Whitmore noticed that through her very sheer chemise, Bethany's breasts were visible. He was sure that the rest of her would be just as visible were she to stand up. Quickly, he removed his coat and threw it over her shoulders as she clung to the small child, whispering soothing words as the boy cried. A moment later, Bethany looked up and saw the large group of people who had now gathered around the lake. Not a moment later, a large woman came forward, screaming for someone named Miss Jones. Whitmore ignored her screaming and turned to kneel next to Ginny. She must have noticed her near nakedness, because she had put her arms through his jacket and closed it up as much as she could. Turning toward Whitmore, she said, “I'm sorry, my lord. Can someone fetch me a blanket?”

Looking into her eyes, knowing what she had done to save that little boy, Whitmore had an overwhelming urge to pick her up and walk off to somewhere more private. The surge of sexual emotion hit him like a ton of bricks. Before it could completely drown out his better sense, he rose to his feet and called to one of the servants who had arrived during the commotion.

“Henry, please run to the house immediately for some blankets.” Before the words had left his mouth, the young footman was running at full tilt back to the house. Meanwhile, the large woman kept screaming for Miss Jones.

The large woman, a guest named Mrs. Mary Rodendale, seemed near apoplexy by the time a slight woman in her thirties approached. Mrs. Rodendale began to scream anew at the sight of the woman. Meanwhile, Miss Jones said nothing, receiving each scream as if it were a physical blow, wincing at each word. Both Ginny and Whitmore watched in horror as the abuse continued.

Whitmore walked over to Mrs. Rodendale and asked, “May I be of assistance, Madam?”

Gaining some composure for her host, Mrs. Rodendale turned and answered, “This woman is Gerard's governess. It is obvious that she allowed the children out of her sight, which led to this... this debacle.”

Before Whitmore could say another word, Mrs. Rodendale began to ream the poor governess once again. When she finally stopped, she simply said, “I cannot deal with this right now. I believe my headache is coming back. Please excuse me, Lord Whitmore.” And with that, she began to walk back to the house, her daughter in her wake trying to hold her arm. Never once did she spare her son a glance to make sure he was alright.

Ginny felt her face flush, not from the embarrassment of sitting on the ground in see through clothing like some drunken college girl at a wet t-shirt contest. No, she wasn't embarrassed, she was pissed. How dare that woman. It may very well be the governess's fault for poorly supervising this child, but she didn't even bother to see if the child was alright. Acting as if the ordeal was worse for her than it had been for him. Her behavior was so grotesque that Ginny thought she just might run after the woman and start pounding her head into the ground.

The thought of her half naked going all WWE on some fat, obnoxious woman made Ginny smirk. Thankfully, it also calmed her down enough to know that Lord Whitmore would probably be displeased by such a display. Not that Ginny could fathom why she would care so much what Lord Whitmore thought of her.

The footman returned with several blankets. Whitmore immediately placed a blanket around Ginny, then turned and picked up the boy into another blanket. After transferring him to the arms of the same footman who fetched the blanket, he turned once again to help Ginny off the ground. “Henry, take the boy to the nursery. Have Pearce fetch the doctor to attend him.”

“Yes, my lord.” The footman, who didn't even break a sweat to get the blankets, was now effortlessly carrying the sixty pound child up the hill to the house. Ginny was duly impressed. Walking with Lord Whitmore towards the governess, who was still standing in the same spot, Ginny felt sorry for the poor woman. There were still a number of guests milling around, including many of the bachelors she was there to impress. Judging by her appearance, she doubted she was doing a good job. Of course, seeing her practically naked may have helped her cause a great deal.

“Miss Jones, is it?” Whitmore asked, sounding impatient.

“Yes, my lord.” The woman was defeated, probably from years of verbal abuse at the hands of Mrs. Rodendale.

“Please tell me what happened.” Whitmore's stare could be intense, so he glanced at the ground, looking as if he were fascinated with his boots.

“The children tricked me. They asked me to fetch something from the closet and then locked me inside. I yelled until one of the maids let me out. By that time I went to look for them, I heard the screaming and came down here.” The governess was crying, but still holding it together enough to explain. “I never imagined this would happen.” The poor woman was now sobbing, for both what had happened to the boy and what would happen to her.

Ginny went to her side and tried to offer her comfort. She couldn't hug her without opening the blanket and revealing even more of herself to the crowd. Reaching one arm from under the blanket, still clad in the sleeve of Whitmore's jacket, she patted the woman gently. “Do they do that sort of thing often?”

Looking up into Ginny's eyes, she replied, “They learn how to treat me from their mother and you can plainly see how she treats me. I have been trying to find another position for months, but without a reference from my current employer, no one will hire me.” She spoke so quietly that only Ginny could hear her. Turning toward her host, Ginny remarked, “I need to get out of these wet clothes. Miss Jones will accompany me.” Eyeing Whitmore to see if he would object, he merely nodded and they all walked back to the house. Miss Jones bent down and picked up Ginny's clothing and carried them for her. Then they walked ahead and Clarendon caught up to Whitmore's side.

“Damn interesting woman, wouldn't you say, Whitmore.” His voice sounded angry, which caught Whitmore's attention.

“Indeed. Why do you sound so ill-tempered?”

Raising an eyebrow, he simply replied, “Do I?”

Clarendon broke off from the group as they approached the house and kept walking toward the gardens in the back. Once there, he wandered among the tulips trying to contain his temper. What was it about that woman, he thought grimly. How does she have the power to make me feel like a schoolboy? He was all too aware of how his body reacted to seeing her wet and practically naked. No woman had made him lose his carefully crafted control before. The erotic thoughts that ran through his head, while she whispered to the child who had nearly drown, nearly overpowered him. Did this mean something? Was she the one he should marry?

Clarendon didn't want a love match. He didn't even want to respect his future spouse. What he wanted was a woman he didn't mind sleeping with long enough to produce an heir, then go about his business as usual. He didn't want his life to change, only to fulfill his obligations as a future duke. And yet, over the past few days, he found himself pursuing her. Constantly seeking her out and spending time with her. It was no mystery that he wanted to bed her. If she would only marry some other chap, then he could go about making her his lover. That was the type of relationship he wanted with her. But marry her? When he went about his extra-curricular activities outside the marriage, then she might very well do the same. But for the life of him, he couldn't understand why that should bother him so much. So now, he had to find a way to get her more involved with everyone else. The other bachelors seemed to think she was unobtainable, now that he had staked his claim. Things had to change, he had to get her married off as soon as possible. There were so many possibilities from which to choose. Suddenly, as he made a second pass of the rose bushes, an idea formed in his head. It was childish, but certainly most of the available gentlemen would be more than willing to partake in a little bet. It was deuced boring in the country, so many would do it just for the amusement. Others would partake to prove their manliness. Either way, it would get the other bachelors to start paying attention to Miss Hamilton and it might just lead her to the altar in record time.

Chapter 8

By the time Ginny reached her room, Tabby had already been summoned and was arranging for a bath. Ginny escorted Miss Jones into her room and walked behind a screen that was placed to hide the tub. She went about peeling the wet clothing off her body and handing it to her maid. Her body smelled of the stagnant lake water and Ginny could only imagine what might be lurking in her hair. Not a fastidious woman by nature, she still enjoyed being clean. Ginny almost felt bad about Colin's coat, since it was now just as disheveled as she was.

“Why don't you have a seat, Miss Jones? I am going to have a bath, then we can walk up to check on Gerard.”

“I am sure that my employment will be terminated, Miss...” Miss Jones stopped, realizing she had no idea what this woman's name was.

“Hamilton. Bethany Hamilton. Please call me Bethany.”

Smiling as if she expected the other shoe to fall at any moment, Miss Jones said, “Bethany. Please call me Sarah. As I was saying, I would doubt that Mrs. Rodendale would care for me to check on her son.”

“Don't worry about that fat windbag.” Hearing a small gasp from Sarah made her correct herself. “I'm sorry. I meant to say Mrs. Rodendale. If you wish, I will speak to her on your behalf.”

“I fail to see what good that will do other than get her to make rude remarks about your character behind your back.”

Ginny barked out a laugh. “And why should I care if she speaks ill of me? She's a bully, Sarah. There is only one way to deal with bullies.”

“I used to be able to handle women like her. But now...” Sarah stared off into space, as if she were remembering a better time. Ginny took the silence as just that.

“What happened? You strike me as someone who used to know her way around society.”

Sarah regarded the screen behind which her new champion stood. If there was one thing she'd learned in her time as a lady, and more importantly, as an employee, it was that no one was to be trusted. And yet, this woman seemed different. She seemed capable of loyalty. How strange.

“My father was a baron with an estate in the town of Bridgewater, in Somerset. My three sisters and I grew up there until I was nineteen. My mother had died when my youngest sister was born. Then my father died many years later without an heir. His cousin was all too ready to take over the title and estate. We were not welcomed by his family. Since I was the oldest, I became a governess for a family connected to a neighbor of ours. Our town vicar and his wife took in my sisters and continued their education. Two of my sisters are married and my youngest sister has only just turned seventeen.”

There was a knock on the door. Several maids began to enter the room and fill the tub behind the ornamental screen. After they left, Ginny sat in the tub and washed away the grime. She thought about Sarah's story, so Jane Austen-esque. All that remained for Sarah was to find a rich gentleman who would keep her from ever having to work again.

Once her hair was washed, Ginny began their conversation again. “I'm sorry to hear that Sarah. Perhaps Lord Whitmore can help you find a better position. You shouldn't have to take that woman's abuse, as well as the abuse of her spoiled children.”

“No one said life was fair.”

“Indeed. But if you're not happy, you are the only one who can change your life. If that's a possibility, wouldn't you want to try?”

Silence fell over the room again like a blanket. Ginny finished in the tub and went about drying her hair. Tabby quickly pinned it up and got her re-dressed so Ginny could check up on the boy. “You are welcome to hide in here, Sarah, if you'd prefer. But you can't hide forever.”

Walking up the stairs, Ginny quickly found the nursery. It was easy enough to find Gerard's room, it was the loudest. Entering the room, there were children everywhere. A rock concert couldn't compete with the noise level. There were seven or eight children running wild and one very harried maid in the center of it all. When the maid spotted Ginny, she begged for help with her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Ginny shouted at the top of her lungs, “SHUT UP!”

Every child stopped at once and stared at her. Okay, now I have their attention, she thought. “Who is related to Gerard?”

Two girls came forward, maybe twins, although they could just be close in age, and stuck their chins in the air. “We are his sisters. Why do you want to know?” Ginny didn't have the patience for their practiced snootiness.

Turning first to the other children, she said, “The rest of you, out. Go back to the classroom and learn something.” When the kids didn't move, she screamed again, “NOW!”

Five little bodies left with all undue speed. Turning to the maid, she said, “You had better keep an eye on them. You've undoubtedly heard the mischief they got themselves into earlier.”

The maid did a small curtsy and left the room. Now she could address the young Rodendales. First she walked over to Gerard, lying quietly in bed. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I fell off my boat and then I woke up next to you.”

Ginny smiled. “I had to go in and get you. Does this seem like something you ever want to do again?”

Gerard's eyes grew to be saucers. “No, miss. Not ever again.”

“Good. Then I expect that you won't be making anymore boats and trying to sail them unless you learn how to swim. Now, which one of you little monsters came up with the idea to lock your governess in the closet.”

Gerard at least had the brains to hang his head in shame. His two sisters, on the other hand, smiled as if to say: What are you going to do about it?

Ginny grabbed the snootier looking of the two girls and promptly walked her to the closet and tossed her inside. The girl was so shocked that she didn't even fight back. After years of torturing their staff and getting away with it, they felt immune to any punishment. If they did something wrong, they would simply lie and their mother would believe them over the staff. Well, Ginny didn't care because she wasn't going to lose her job.

Closing the door and locking it, she then turned to the other two. The girl in the closet was screaming bloody murder while Gerard and his sister continued to stare. Gerard's sister finally sputtered, “You... you can't do that... I'm... I'm... going to tell Mother!”

“What are you going to tell her? That one of Lord Whitmore's esteemed guests, a young lady who he has spent a great deal of time, was torturing your sister by locking her in a closet. The same closet that that same little girl probably locked her governess in while her little brother went out to nearly drown in the lake. Is that what you would tell your mother?”

The girl was speechless, which could not be said for the girl in the closet who continued to scream. Finally, finding her voice and sticking her chin in the air in a practiced haughtiness, she said, “No, I shall tell her that you came up here just to be mean to us because you are jealous of us.” Aaaah, the delusions of youth... how refreshing.

A slow smile crept onto Ginny's face. “And when she is forced to go to Lord Whitmore with your accusations, who do you think he will believe. You or me?”

The light bulb finally lit up over the girl's head as she understood her position. Lord Whitmore had spent a great deal of time with Bethany, which would be translated as nothing short of courtship in the young preteen mind. When her mother went to complain about the woman he planned on making his wife, Lord Whitmore would undoubtedly listen to what Bethany had to say and then dismiss her mother's accusation. In turn, the humiliation her mother would feel would then be transferred to the children in the form of their mother's unbridled anger. Seeing her position and recognizing the hopelessness of it, the girl relented by bowing her head in shame.

Ginny opened the door and the trapped girl came at Ginny with fingernails blazing. Ginny only had to turn slightly and put her foot out to trip the girl. Falling flat on her face, her sister quickly grabbed her up and held her back. She whispered into her ear and the little girl immediately calmed down.

“Listen up. That goes for you too, Gerard. Because of your antics, Gerard almost died today. If I hadn't been there, he would be dead and you would have that on your conscience, if you possess such a thing,” Ginny muttered the last part under her breath. “Learn from this. Learn that there are consequences to your actions. You may also want to consider how you treat other people. Your family may have money but that does not give any of the you the right to treat people, especially adults, without all due respect.”

Each of the children stared at her, each with a different expression: Gerard's was of awe, closet girl looked incensed and the one Ginny now presumed was the oldest looked resigned.

“Let me tell you about something called karma. Have any of you heard that word before?” Ginny voice had softened in the hopes that they would at least hear her out before completely ignoring everything she said. Each kid shook their head.

“Karma is a term meaning... What goes around, comes around.” Still, totally blank expressions. “When you do something bad, something bad will happen to you. Do you understand now?”

The girl from the closet, probably wanting to look superior to her siblings asked, “Who is going to do the bad thing?”

“Who knows,” Ginny realized that she'd chosen a tough topic to explain to children. “But today, one or all of you locked Miss Jones in a closet, presumably so you could go off and play and avoid learning something. That was a bad thing. You should be respectful of Miss Jones. She is here to teach you what you will need to know to succeed in life. The bad thing that happened to you was your brother nearly drowned. Do you see how what you did led to what happened to him?”

Two sets of eyes started darting around in shame. Closet girl simply lifted her chin and stared back condescendingly. “Our mother says we deserve everything we have. Everyone else is just jealous of us.”

“I'm sure she tells you that all the time and I'm not about to get into a discussion of what's wrong with your mother. All I'm saying is this: Do bad things and bad things happen to you. But, there is another side. Do good things and good things happen to you.”

“I don't believe you.”

Wow, this girl is messed up. “You don't have to believe me. Eventually you'll see that I'm right.”

Just then, Whitmore and another man entered the room. Judging by the bag, Ginny assumed it was the doctor. He was smiling at her as he bowed to her. He was tall, over six feet, with deep, blue eyes and a patrician nose. He had long side burns, but no other facial hair. His hair was a sandy color, cut short as befitting the fashion. His smile was warm and friendly. She would guess he was in his mid to late thirties. Whitmore took his cue and said, “Dr. Cummings, please allow me to introduce you to Miss Hamilton.”

Looking her in the eye, smiling warmly, he pronounced, “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Hamilton.”

The doctor then turned his attention to the bed, where Gerard was lying down. “Well, young man, it appears that you have a lot to be thankful for.”

Whitmore looked at Gerard's sisters and announced, “Girls, please follow me. Miss Hamilton, could you please explain to the doctor exactly what you did today. He is greatly interested.”

“Of course.” Ginny watched as Whitmore led the two girls out of the room. She hoped he was going to take a switch to their backsides. Pivoting to face the doctor, she asked, “What do you want to know?”

“I would like to speak to you after I examine the boy, if that would be fine with you.”

“Of course. I'll answer whatever questions you have.”

Ginny watched the doctor do what little was in his knowledge to do. When completed, he asked the boy a series of questions to gauge his mental capacity and then declared him very lucky. “You will need to rest a few days, son. I have little doubt you will be fit as a fiddle soon.” Tousling Gerard's hair, he again turned to face Ginny.

“Miss Hamilton, shall we?” he said while gesturing to the door. Smiling, she preceded him out. In the hallway, they met Lord Whitmore and another woman. Lord Whitmore introduced her as Nurse Beggins. Apparently, she would care for the boy over the next few days. Before the nurse could disappear into the room, Ginny offered a few suggestions. “I think it would be best if he slept sitting up tonight. Just in case he still has water in his lungs. Also, someone should be with him throughout the night to make sure he doesn't have any trouble breathing.”

The nurse turned to the doctor for confirmation. “A sound suggestion, Miss Hamilton. You seem to know a lot about medicine.”

“I read a lot,” was her only reply. The nurse entered the room and Whitmore offered Ginny his arm. The men exchanged some conversation on the way back down the stairs, obviously they had known each other a long time and socialized with the same people.

Whitmore directed Ginny to his study and pulled the bell pull. A moment later Pearce arrived and Whitmore ordered tea. Ginny sat in one of the armchairs across from the desk and the doctor took the other. When Whitmore was seated behind his desk, the doctor began his questioning.

“Where did you get the idea to breathe into that boy's mouth?”

“The idea was not mine, Doctor. An Englishman had suggested it over fifty years ago, I believe. I don't know if he was a doctor. I remember reading about it somewhere. It certainly couldn't hurt, so I gave it a try.”

“Fascinating. What made you suggest him sitting up?”

She was going to have to lie on this question. The other one was easy, she did remember reading once how a British man suggested mouth to mouth after doing it successfully. Ginny didn't want to reveal too much medical knowledge since that would lead to suspicion.

“I remember a friend having breathing problems growing up. She said it was easier to breathe while sitting up during her episodes. I used the same principle here.” That would have to do, and Ginny hoped the questions would stop.

“Interesting. A good plan, to be sure. Thank you for your suggestions.” Ginny was amazed. She didn't meet many doctors who took suggestions well, let alone at all.

“One more thing, Miss Hamilton.” Uh oh, here it comes. “Where did you hear about...'karma,' was it?”

What? “I wasn't aware that you were listening.” Ginny looked at Whitmore, who was smiling back at her.

“Please don't be offended, Miss Hamilton,” Dr. Cummings seemed truly distressed over revealing their eavesdropping. “When Lord Whitmore and I walked up, we heard you talking and didn't want to disturb you. Once we heard what you were saying, I must say I was quite... impressed with how you handled the children.”

“Oh, well, karma is from India, I believe. Of course, to them, bad things transcend to new lives after reincarnation.”

“Fascinating. Miss Hamilton, perhaps I could come by tomorrow, in the afternoon and we could take a turn about the gardens together. I would so much like to hear more about your knowledge.”

Ginny tried to look serene, but was now flooded with doubts. Was she supposed to fall in love with the doctor? He was certainly handsome, but he wasn't titled. Didn't that make a difference? Meanwhile, she still had to nail down if Clarendon was the one. It was getting too confusing.

“I would be happy to answer any other questions. We could go now, if you wish.”

“I am sorry, but I have to attend the Widow Sheppard. She took a bad tumble a few days ago and I need to check on her. I was on my way there when Whitmore's footman waylaid me.” The doctor smiled in the direction of their host. “So, if you two will excuse me.”

The doctor bowed to Ginny. Before thinking, she stood up and thrust out her hand. Both men stared at her peculiarly. Ginny was about to retract her hand, realizing her mistake, but the doctor was quicker. Taking her hand, he kissed the backs of her fingers lightly. He smiled again, performed a curt bow toward Whitmore and left. Ginny sat back down as quickly as possible.

“I believe the doctor is quite taken with you, Miss Hamilton.”

Ginny regarded him for a moment, before saying, “What happened to calling me Bethany?”

He stared back into her eyes, his face the picture of serene. The silence continued as they both seemed disinclined to break it. Ginny felt her eyes dip to his mouth, her own lips parting slightly. Her breathing deepened as she waited for what must be inevitable in a romance novel. Looking back at his eyes, she noticed he was now looking at her mouth. Under the scrutiny, she licked her lips slowly, then bit her lower lip. His gaze went back to her eyes and he stood up. Before he could make his way around the desk, Pearce reappeared with the tea.

Dammit, she thought. Why haven't I at least been kissed. Hell, I don't even know who I'm here to fall in love with yet.

Whitmore stood still as the butler laid out the tea service. When complete, he bowed to his employer and left, closing the door behind him. Ginny knew there would be no kiss. The moment was gone. It's just as well, she concluded. She was still pretty sure it was supposed to be Clarendon anyway.

“May I pour you a cup of tea?” His voice was curt, maybe perturbed. Perhaps he was just as disappointed with their interruption as she was.

Knowing she should probably just go, she said instead, “That would be delightful.”

After serving the tea and offering her a tart, he sat himself back behind the desk. Taking a sip of his tea, he mentioned, “I was quite impressed with what you did today.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“What happened to calling me Colin?” Ginny looked up to see the smile on his face. Colin seemed so genuine, you got what you saw. She smiled back.

“Very well... Colin.”

“Every day you say something or do something to surprise me. And in a good way. It makes me look forward to what might be next.”

Ginny stalled by taking a sip of her tea. How should she respond to that? He didn't want to get married, so did he want to start some elicit affair? Not that she would be opposed, it wasn't like Ginny was the prude, but she knew she couldn't enjoy it with Bethany's rules screaming in her head. In the end, Ginny decided to just be Ginny. “I'll try not to disappoint you tomorrow. Perhaps I'll bring up a topic of conversation that will truly make you blush. Oh, I wanted to ask you what you did about the Rodendale girls. I admit I hoped you spanked them.”

“I did speak to them. I had already spoken to Miss Jones and ascertained that she was not at fault. I am afraid that Mrs. Rodendale has already decided to release her without reference.”

Ginny saw red. “That over-sized windbag. Not only does she teach those kids to be rotten, spoiled brats, but then she personifies a lack of any personal responsibility.”

“Indeed. I have told her that maybe it would be better if she left with the children. My hospitality extends only so far. Miss Jones, on the other hand, has accepted my invitation to stay for the time being. Just until she can work out new arrangements.”

Ginny suddenly wished he had kissed her. “That is very kind of you, Colin. I'm truly impressed.”

“Whatever for? I am a fair man, Bethany.”

Silence followed while Ginny studied the man across the desk. Finally, she asked, “Have you ever had a female friend before, Colin?”

“No, I have not. But I must say that I feel as if I have been missing out on something.”

Finishing her tea, Ginny excused herself. Who was it to be? Whitmore, Clarendon, the doctor. Had she somehow screwed up this book too? It seemed so cut and dry in the beginning and now it was all muddled. God help her if another good looking character were brought in. She might end up marrying an entire horde of romance novel hero types.

Chapter 9

The following day went by without any major incidents. Colin wasn't at breakfast, leading Ginny to believe he might be avoiding her. What would have happened if he had kissed her yesterday? She thought that they would probably be getting married. Walking back to her room after breakfast, she chuckled to herself at the thought. Most people in her time did far worse and then moved on to someone else. The doctor made good on his promise and came back in the afternoon. Ginny found herself enjoying their time together. He revealed that both his father and grandfather had been doctors. Instead of being bitter over having his career chosen for him, he truly wanted to learn more so he could help his patients. Ginny had swore she wouldn't, but did tell him a few things that he could use in the future. Nothing extraordinary, just common sense, like sterilization and cleanliness. She may have called bloodletting

“barbaric” and proved her point as to why it wouldn't work.

He talked about his late wife and how it had devastated him in the end that he could do nothing but give her laudanum to make her comfortable. The symptoms he described sounded like cancer, but in the end it didn't really matter to him. She was still gone. He also casually mentioned that they had not had children and he really should remarry. Which in turn made Ginny groan internally. It wasn't as if she didn't have enough problems.

Entering her bedroom, she went to pull the bell when Tabby popped her head up from behind the bed. Ginny let out a yelp in surprise.

“Sorry, miss. I was searching for an earring I dropped.”

“Dear God, Tabby. You scared the sh... You scared me.” Ginny began to remove her gloves, when she asked,

“How was your day?”

When no answer came, she turned and looked over at the maid. Her face was pale, even in the candlelight. Her mouth was gaping open and it made Ginny look behind her to check for the bogeyman.

“What?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Miss, I have something to tell you and... well... it is just...”

Walking over to the maid, she had her sit down at her vanity. Getting down on her knees, she could almost see directly into the shorter woman's eyes. “Just spit it out.”

“Some of the servants have been talking.”

“About...?”

“It seems that Lord Clarendon has made a bet with some of the other gentlemen. The bet is who will get you to kiss them first.”

At first, Ginny wanted to laugh, but knew that was not how a young lady of this time would handle such a situation. Instead, she merely mentioned, “Well, that explains all the attention I received today.”

“What do you mean, miss?”

“It felt like every bachelor attending this party, with the exception of Lord Whitmore and Lord Clarendon, were seeking my attention. The only time I didn't feel like I was on display was when I was with the doctor.”

Tears formed in the little maid's eyes. “I am so sorry, miss. I think it is just beastly. That Lord Clarendon should be horsewhipped.”

“Did you happen to find out how much the bet was up to?”

“The footman was not exactly sure, but he did say he thought it was up to fifty pounds. Do you know what I could do with fifty pounds? I would be able to marry Lyle, that is for sure.”

“What could you do with thirteen pounds, Tabby?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean to win the bet. I just have to find a partner willing to let me kiss him and split the loot.”

Tabby scrunched her eyebrows together as if something just occurred to her. “I remember the footman saying that Lord Whitmore was included as a potential winner, but he didn't know about it. The footman said that Lord Whitmore would not care so much for either the gambling or the what they were betting on.”

“Perfect,” Ginny said out loud, but was thinking carefully on how she was going to get him to go along with her.

“You're not mad, miss?”

“Tabby, if I can pull this off, you'll be thirteen pounds richer. And I will teach those miscreants a lesson.”

“Why should I get any of the money?”

“You told me about the bet. Besides, I don't need it and you can put it away towards what you need to marry Lyle.”

“You are far too good to me, miss.” She practically whispered the declaration.

“Ha! I owe you a lot. Now, let's get me ready for bed so I can plot this thing out.”

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny entered the dining room to find Lord Whitmore hiding behind his newspaper, sitting at the head of the table instead of across from where she usually sat. The only sign of life was a hand that would occasionally dart out to pick up his cup and then disappear behind the paper again. Pearce pulled out her chair. “Cook has made some very good sweet rolls this morning, miss. Would you care for one along with your usual breakfast?”

“Now, Pearce, of course I would. I may even ask for another one if they are as good as you imply.”

Pearce raised an eyebrow at her and quirked what may have been a smile before quickly regaining his composure. The butler disappeared behind the door.

When no response came from behind the paper, Ginny spoke to no one in particular. “What a lovely day it is. How shall I spend my morning? Perhaps a walk along the trails into the countryside or I could go swimming in the lake again. The water was quite refreshing.”

Finally, a face appeared from behind the paper. Ginny ignored it, staring at the wall instead. She examined a painting, a landscape in oil, with a practiced eye that she didn't truly possess. Honestly, they all looked the same to her sometimes. Finally, Whitmore lowered his paper, folded it neatly and cleared his throat. Turning her head suddenly at the noise, she quipped, “Lord Whitmore. I hadn't noticed you there. Have you been there all along?”

“You do amuse yourself, do you not, Miss Hamilton?”

“All the time,” she replied smiling. “I can't help thinking that I must have done something to offend you. I didn't see you at breakfast yesterday. Nor did I see you all day for that matter. Then at dinner, you seated me at the far opposite end of the table from you. When the men returned from whatever it is you men do after dinner, you were conspicuously absent.”

“I assure you, I was in no way offended by anything you did.” His curtness contradicted his reply. She needed his help, but was in no mood for games. To hell with him, she thought. Changing her tone to one of indifference, she said, “Good. I'm glad.”

He gave her a perplexed look just as Pearce reappeared. He deposited her sweet role and coffee, bowed and returned to the kitchen. She took her time adding her sugar and cream, then sipping her coffee to make sure it was just right. Feeling like a child, she refused to look at him. She just kept sipping her coffee.

“Bethany, are you angry with me?”

Raising her eyes to the ceiling, she prayed for patience. Is he kidding? Men are so obtuse. “I was thinking of asking you the same thing, my lord.”

Facing him again, she saw the look of conflict in his face. Oh God, she thought gloomily, does he want to marry me now? Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she thought it couldn't get any worse.

“I had some business with my estate manager yesterday. I needed to make sure everything was set before I left in a few weeks. That is why you did not see me all day. As for dinner... many of the gentlemen mentioned that I was monopolizing your time. I thought it best to put you in a position where you might converse with the other guests.”

She gazed at him for a moment. “I'm sorry. It sounded as if you were upset with me. I guess I get offended easily. Please forgive me.”

Smiling with only half his mouth, he said, “I am sorry as well. I would not have you thinking you did anything wrong.”

Trying to catch him while he was being so agreeable, she asked, “Colin. Do you think I might have a moment of your time today to discuss an issue I'm having with some of your guests?”

“Of course. Can you not discuss it here?”

“No, I would prefer somewhere we won't be overheard. Perhaps a turn in your gardens after breakfast?”

“Certainly.”



The rest of the breakfast was companionable. Whitmore discussed some of the articles he'd read, she told him about the doctor's visit. He watched her as she cleaned up her crumbs off the table and stacked her dishes neatly. He smiled at her consideration. When she completed her task, Whitmore pulled out her chair and provided his arm. When finally they were in the midst of the gardens, near the fountain in the center, she felt it was safe to ask for his help.

“Colin, my maid found out that some of the gentlemen have a wager going.”

Before she could continue, he spouted, “Clarendon, right?”

“Yes. It's my understanding that he was the originator of the bet.”

“What is it?” Ginny could tell by how he stiffened that he assumed it had to do with him. She was half tempted to ask, but decided against it. Better to just get this done.

“Fifty pounds to the man I kiss first.”

“What!” he bellowed. Gaining his composure, he asked, “Are you certain?”

“The footman who provided the information to my maid was serving the drinks to those involved. So, yes, I'm sure.”

Bowing his head, he reached up and rubbed his temples. “I will speak to Lord Clarendon directly after breakfast.”

“No, I'm not asking you to do that. I have a better idea.”

Searching her face for the hidden joke, he asked, “Better idea?”

“Apparently, you are part of the bet. If I kiss you first, you win fifty pounds.”

Incredulous, he asked, “You will kiss me, so I can win fifty pounds?”

“Actually, I thought we could split the winnings. Twenty-five to you and twenty-five to me.”

He pivoted on his heel and began to walk back to the house. Lifting her skirts, Ginny ran after him. “What? You don't like the idea.”

Whitmore stopped so abruptly that Ginny ran right into his back. She noticed how strong his back felt, like hitting a muscled brick wall. It wasn't long before she was thinking how it would feel to run her hands up and down his back. Berating herself, she tuned her attention back to the current situation.

“Miss Hamilton, surely you can not be serious. If I were to kiss you, or you me, it would indicate some sort of... understanding. I believe I have made myself clear that I do not wish to marry.”

Groaning softly she said, “Dear God, Colin, it's just a kiss. It doesn't have to mean anything. And it can just be done in front of Clarendon. Even if everyone finds out, you can always deny it later and still be twentyfive pounds richer.”

“I do not need twenty-five pounds, Miss Hamilton.” It couldn't be good that he was back to calling her Miss Hamilton, but Ginny forged on anyway.

“Then let me put it another way. This is incredibly humiliating. As it is, I'm the most talked about guest in your house. All the women talk about me like I'm some sort of whore. All the men, well, since seeing me practically naked after saving that child talk about... well, you can guess.” Pausing to take a breath, she continued, “You don't want to get married and that's great. I don't either, but I don't have any choices. My parents fully expect me to be engaged before we leave here or I get to listen to endless hours of my mother listing all my inadequacies. Lord Clarendon has led me to believe he's interested, but obviously he's not if he makes up some stupid bet to encourage every other man to come after me. There can only be two reasons for that: One, I'm not worthy enough unless all men desire me and Clarendon likes a challenge or two, he's not interested at all and is trying valiantly to pawn me off on someone else.”

Whitmore didn't mention the third possibility that Clarendon was more interested in her as a future lover than a present wife. Regardless, he was starting to see her point of view. Any of the possibilities were humiliating and could potentially cause a scandal that she would not survive.

“Look. I understand if you don't want to do it, but don't you dare dismiss me as if I'm being ridiculous. It's so damn easy to take the moral high road when you have a fabulous holiday to look forward to. I guess the view isn't so great from the cheap seats.” With that, knowing full well he didn't understand a word she just said, she walked away. Instead of heading back to the house, she walked quickly to the back of the gardens, heading toward the hedge maze. She thought she was forever turned off to the idea of going through the maze after listening to the cackle of giggly hens get lost and scream for help. Right now, she needed the privacy that being lost could afford.

She entered the maze and made as many twists and turns she could to ensure that it would take her a while to get back out. Once she calmed down a bit, she strolled around quietly, not really trying to find her way out. It just doesn't make any sense, she realized. She'd read over a dozen of those books and couldn't remember a single time where she couldn't figure out who the mega couple were. Sure she might already be engaged or the mega hunk would have some competition, but it was always so obvious who the heroine would eventually knock boots with.

Was she supposed to kiss Colin and then he would realize that he loved her and wanted to marry her? Would Miles be so jealous of seeing her kiss Colin that he would come to his senses and try to make it up to her? Maybe she takes a step down and marries Dr. Cummings, not that her real mother would ever have thought of marrying a doctor as “stepping down.” Was there someone she hadn't even met yet? So lost in her thoughts, Ginny didn't even realize she was at the entrance of the maze. Looking around, she realized she made it in and out without even thinking. That certainly didn't explain why the chattering hens had gotten lost. God knew they never gave any thought to anything, except maybe their clothes and hair. Their brains were so vacuous that even light couldn't escape.

Walking back to the house, tired and defeated, Ginny figured she would spend the day in her room. She wasn't in the mood to entertain a bunch of guys who were only interested in winning a bet. And she didn't feel like joining in the festivities of a bunch of immature girls. Maybe she could seek out Miss Jones. The woman was smartly keeping to herself. It would give her someone to talk to, about something other than marriage. That sounded great to Ginny.

As she was climbing the steps to the outside terrace, she heard his voice. “May I speak to you in my study, Miss Hamilton?”

“Sure,” she replied, preceding Lord Whitmore into the house. He followed closely behind her as she walked into his study. Closing the door, he motioned her to the leather armchairs.

“I have given a lot of thought to what you said in the garden. And though I am not enthusiastic about your plan, I understand why you want to do it. Relieving those men of their money would have a certain level of revenge attached to it.”

Ginny remained silent. She wasn't sure if he was offering to do it or just saying he understood why she wanted to do it. Either way, she knew to let him get to it in his own time.

“After dinner, I will ask Clarendon to meet me in the garden to discuss some estate business. I often go out to smoke, so he will not think anything of it. You will meet me by the Diana statue on the east side of the garden. He will discover us there.”

Holy crap, he's gonna do it, she thought merrily. A small smile formed on her face. She was about to thank him when he said, “Do not thank me, Miss Hamilton. I do this as a favor to you, as my friend. As long as we both know that it means nothing, it will be well worth seeing the look on Clarendon's face when he discovers us.”

“Indeed. Thank you anyway. I promise I won't be following you around, falling in love with you over one kiss.”

Smiling in return now, he stated, “You have never been kissed by me, so how can you say that?”

Uh-oh, Colin is back to flirting. “I guess you're not that charming, my lord.”

The smile on his face spoke of meeting challenges left on his doorstep. “You best go. I have a lot of work to do today. Tonight, then?

“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.

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.

“My goodness, Bethany, you were meant to sip that.” Her mother looked horrified, but Ginny felt the warmth spreading and was enjoying the effects.

“Sorry, mother, I needed the courage.”

Eugenia took the glass from her daughter and put it back on the tray with the bottle. Part of her was thrilled that Bethany had landed an earl, but another part was concerned. After listening to her daughter's story, she realized that this might not be a good match after all. It would pain Eugenia if her only daughter, her only child, was ill treated because a stubborn earl was forced to marry her. She also knew that Whitmore would not have agreed to the plan if he didn't truly want to kiss Bethany. God knew they spent enough time together that most of the guests figured he was courting her.

Eugenia paced about the room, busying herself with straightening items on the vanity or staring out at the gardens. After a few minutes of watching her mother, Ginny laid back down, put the compress on her eyes and enjoyed the effects of the shot of brandy.

After what seemed like forever, there was a light knock on the door. Eugenia immediately opened it and Bethany's father walked in. His face was drawn and he looked tired. Ginny felt more awful about how her plan had gone awry.

“I have spoken to Lord Whitmore. We have decided that it would be in everyone's best interest that the two of you should marry as soon as possible. He will speak to a bishop friend of his to obtain the special license. You will be married by the end of the week.” His speech came as no surprise, but it still irritated Ginny to have her life, or Bethany's life, decided for her.

Ginny stood up and began to pace just as her mother had. Finally turning to look at her father, she said, “I don't wish to marry the earl. Didn't he explain what happened? Why we were kissing?”

“Bethany, do you think me so old that I do not know exactly why he was kissing you or where that kissing would have led if I hadn't arrived with Lord Clarendon?” His voice was exasperated and he was touching on topics Ginny didn't want to broach. Talking about sex with one's own father was creepy, even if he wasn't exactly her real father.

“He didn't mention the bet?”

“What bet?”

“The bet Lord Clarendon made with all the eligible men here. Fifty pounds to the man who got me to kiss him first.”

“What!?” William Hamilton looked close to murder. “Are you certain?”

For the first time, Ginny felt some hope. It was, unfortunately, short lived. “Yes, Tabby heard of it first and told me. Then, when we were walking back to the house tonight, Clarendon admitted it. That was what I was trying to explain to you in the garden.”

“So, Lord Whitmore wanted to win the bet?”

Uh-oh. “No, he didn't even know about it until I told him. He was going to talk to Lord Clarendon, but I persuaded him to... let me kiss him to win the bet. I wanted to rub it in Clarendon's face for being so insensitive.” Ginny turned to her mother and gave her a pleading look. She needed an ally and Eugenia was the only one available.

“Perhaps we are being too hasty, darling. It seems that Lord Whitmore was only trying to help Bethany right a wrong.” Way to go, Mom!

William turned his gaze directly on Ginny and said, “Right a wrong, was it? I must say, Bethany, you must think me quite gullible. I saw how Whitmore was kissing you. If you needed only to kiss him to win the bet, why was he...” Ginny didn't think that Bethany's father was capable of finishing his sentence. Instead he walked to his wife and whispered in her ear. Ginny knew all was lost when she heard her mother gasp. That's it, game over!

“Bethany. How could you?” Both her parents gave her their most practiced stern looks. As Ginny opened her mouth for one last appeal, her father cleverly nipped it in the bud. “If it was to win a bet, why did Lord Whitmore tell Lord Clarendon to go away? Why did he not stop and collect his winnings?”

Ginny had no answer and her father very well knew it. He would then place the final nail in her coffin. “You will meet with Lord Whitmore tomorrow morning. He has something to ask you. My suggestion to you is that you answer in the affirmative. Do I make myself clear?”

Bone tired, confused and annoyed, she simply replied, “Yes, father.” Both her parents took their leave, and Ginny sat down on one of the chairs by the fireplace. Staring into the dark space, blackened by countless blazes, she wondered if this was how it was supposed to be. Something didn't feel right about it. Perhaps she drove the story this way because she preferred Whitmore to Clarendon. Clarendon was far more handsome than Whitmore, but in the end, she was far more compatible with Colin. He made her think, challenged her beliefs and listened to her opinion. She didn't think a relationship with Miles would be so fulfilling. Still, she was forcing him into something he didn't want. So, after one more quick shot of brandy, that her mother should have removed when she had the chance, Ginny made her way downstairs toward Colin's study. She didn't know if he was still awake or even if he was still in his study, but she felt the need to speak to him, find out what he was really thinking.

As she approached the door, Ginny saw light under the jamb. Knocking lightly, she heard him call out a curt reply to enter. Opening the door, she saw he wasn't behind his desk but staring out the window. She entered quickly and closed the door behind her. Having not seen Tabby to find out any gossip, she didn't need anyone seeing her in his study so late to cause some.

With her stomach churning, she whispered, “Colin.”

Swinging around abruptly, he stared into her eyes. The same green eyes that stared into hers in the moonlight. She nearly rolled her eyes over her romanticizing the situation that led her here. She really needed to control herself.

“Miss Hamilton. I believe I asked your father to have you come by in the morning.” His reply was sharp, as if he had no intention of dealing with this situation right now. Ginny knew she'd made a mistake.

“I apologize for disturbing you, my lord.” Ginny quickly turned and went back to the door. Before she could put her hand on the knob, he was there, standing beside her.

“Miss Hamilton, perhaps we should have our discussion now.” Ginny gazed into his eyes. What she saw led her to believe he could be reasonable, so she relented. She walked back into the room, taking one of the familiar armchairs.

The room was lit by a number of candles, but the corners still lay in shadows. Any other time, Ginny would have thought the atmosphere romantic, but considering the situation, it seemed morose. She could still smell the cigar scent on his clothing and a faint smell of liquor. She wondered if he started drinking after her father left him or during. He couldn't very well be blamed for either.

Sitting next to her, rather than at his desk, it appeared he would be at least civil. “I wanted you to know that if you wish, I will defy my father and refuse to marry you.”

“If I wish? This seems to have little to do with what I wish, Miss Hamilton.” His formality was a bad sign and his point was well taken. It was, after all, her plan that brought this about.

“You're right. I will simply refuse you.”

Colin, who had been sitting up straight, on the edge of the chair, now leaned back and regarded her. Steepling his fingers together by his face, his stare was intense, made more so by the candlelight. Taking a deep breath, he asked, “And when it gets out that we were... intimate in the garden and we are not married, how do you think that will reflect on me?”

“I doubt it will affect you at all. I imagine my reputation will be in shreds, but it was my plan, therefore my fault. I wouldn't want to ruin your life over my impetuousness.”

“I am glad you realize how this situation was entirely of your making. I imagine most women would turn an accusing finger back at a man.”

His condescension was infuriating. Ginny stood up and paced the room for a moment, trying to calm down. What an arrogant prick, she thought. It was time for someone to put him in his place.

“Point my finger back at a man? Like, say, Lord Clarendon? The man who made the bet in the first place. The man who had so little concern for my feelings or reputation that he set about to destroy both. Or say, maybe, you, Lord Whitmore. Perhaps you'd care to explain to me why if we only needed one kiss to win the bet, we needed to 'practice' first. Or why, and here is the real clincher, the most pertinent reason why my father thought my explanation was total bull, was when you told Lord Clarendon to 'go away' instead of turning around and acknowledging your win.”

Ginny's face was flush and she was panting in anger. At least she was willing to acknowledge her culpability, whereas this man would play the passive-aggressive victim. Sorry, but Ginny wouldn't allow any free passes on this one.

Standing up to face her, and probably try to intimidate her with his height, he reached out and grabbed both of her shoulders, drew her close and kissed her hard. Ginny went completely still, stiff as a board and curious how their argument had turned to this. They say that sexual passion can be born of any strong feeling, positive or negative. They would be right.

Releasing her shoulders, Colin began to rub her upper back and shoulders. When she still didn't respond, he reached up with both hands and cupped her cheeks. “Bethany, open your mouth again. Just like before.”

Pushing him away, staring into his eyes, she asked breathlessly, “Why? Why do you want to kiss me?”

Growling low and deep, he responded, “I just do.” He then grabbed her face again, gently this time and kissed her again. This time, Ginny reacted to his touch, opened her mouth and kissed him back. He explored her mouth with his tongue, tasting her. He wondered why she tasted like brandy. His hands slowly made their way down her slender neck, over her shoulders and down her chest. Finally resting on her breasts, his fingers coaxed her nipples erect, making her gasp in his mouth.

His breathing was labored when he finally pushed her away. He turned around and walked back to the window. “Go to bed, Bethany.”

His words were icy and strained. She turned to leave, knowing that any further argument was fruitless. Before she opened the door, he spoke again, arrogantly and self-assured, “Know that we will be married within the week. There will be no refusal.”

Instead of responding, Ginny left. Her body felt oddly cold, like she'd been doused by ice water and left standing in the wind. She realized she was too tired to think any further, all her anger spent and the passion she felt during his kiss unrealized. Tomorrow would be another day, another chance to screw up someone else's life.

Chapter 11

While getting ready for bed, Tabby had nothing to report on any gossip. After telling her maid the entire story, Tabby promised to keep her ears open and report any news back to Ginny. Crawling under the covers, Ginny laid on her back and stared up at the canopy above her bed. It was a ruffly thing, not particularly attractive. She could feel the strain of the day slowly leaving her body. It may have been the exhaustion or it may have been the brandy, but before long, she was sound asleep. Ginny woke up at the same time as any other day. When Tabby arrived, she said that the staff now knew of the impending wedding to take place here on Friday.

“Well, I suppose Lord Whitmore had to tell them so they could prepare, huh?” Ginny's enthusiasm was nonexistent.

“Pearce has the whole staff on double duty. He has footman on alert to deliver the invitations. His lordship has already sent a missive to his sister and mother so they can be here. The guest list has already been decided, with much of the local gentry on the list.” Tabby went about her story as she prepared Ginny's clothes. Ginny tuned her out and began to think.

Maybe this is how it is supposed to be. Maybe after the wedding, he'll learn to love me and we'll live happily ever after. Maybe it was always supposed to be Colin, not Miles or Dr. Cummings. Maybe I should stop thinking and learn to go with the flow.

“Miss...miss,” Tabby was waving a hand in front of Ginny's face to get her to return to their own planet.

“Sorry, Tabby. I guess I was lost in thought. Did you need something?”

Smiling sweetly, as if to say she understood, Tabby shook her head and got Ginny dressed. Once her hair was done, Ginny went with a certain level of trepidation to the breakfast room. She could just imagine the conversation this morning. No more discussions on Napoleon and local government... now it would be about wedding stuff. Or worse, nothing at all, since it was quite apparent that Colin didn't want to marry her anyway.

Entering the room, Ginny was relieved to see it empty. Pearce appeared from nowhere, pulling out her usual chair. “The usual, miss?”

“Yes, Pearce, thank you. Where is Lord Whitmore this morning?”

“He is in his study, miss. May I be the first of Lord Whitmore's staff to say congratulations. I am sure you will make a fine mistress of Wellesley Hall.”

“Thank you, Pearce. I am quite pleased that you will be my butler.” Ginny realized how stupid that sounded, so instead of shutting up, she made it worse. “You are so efficient, it's like there are three of you.”

“Thank you, miss. I look forward to calling you Lady Whitmore.”

Smartly keeping her mouth shut, she smiled. He left through the mysterious side door, that once she was married, she was totally going through it to see where it led. God, she was childish sometimes. While eating her breakfast, Ginny wondered if she was still supposed to have her meeting with Colin this morning. He already knew her answer, or rather, her answer did not make a damn bit of difference, so did she have to suffer through a painful and embarrassing meeting? As much as she wanted to duke it out again, she figured he would just kiss her again to shut her up.

Considering his kisses, she thought that maybe it was worth going in and starting a fight. In the past day, it was the only pleasant thing to happen to her. With her breakfast completed, she wandered down the hallway toward his study. The door was closed, so she knocked and waited for his reply.

“Pearce is that you? Come in already, dammit.” Well, that didn't bode well. It looked like she was in for a fight after all. Could be worse, he could hit her instead of kiss her.

Opening the door, she quickly said, “It's not Pearce.” Not that just looking up wouldn't have made that point obvious. “Would you like me to fetch him for you?”

“No, sit down. I have some questions for you.” Ginny took her usual chair while Colin walked to the door and yelled for his butler. As Colin spoke out of earshot, Ginny speculated why she actually listened to him. Perhaps she was setting a bad precedent, since Ginny was not the obeying type. She wouldn't want the earl to think he could get away with ordering her around.

Returning to his desk, looking extremely put out, he turned his annoyed look toward her. “You will need to discuss who you want invited with your parents as soon as possible. The invitations will need to be posted today.”

“Alright,” Ginny dragged out the word to emphasize her displeasure.

“You will need new clothing. There is a modiste in town who I believe keeps some nicer fabrics in supply. You and your mother should go into town today and speak to her. If she can't make you a dress so quickly, perhaps she can alter one of yours to make it appropriate.”

“Alright.”

“What is your favorite flower? Preferably something I have on hand in the hothouse or garden.” His militarylike tone was wearing thin. Ginny guessed it was time to turn on her “charm.”

“Why don't you tell me what my favorite flower is. That way, it would save me the trouble of giving you the wrong answer and then having to listen to you complain about it.” When it came to sarcasm, Ginny was lord and master.

His look turned murderous. Ginny realized her blunder. Don't poke a bear unless you have a big gun as protection. She considered her options, one being running away and fast. She peered toward the doorway, considering her ability to reach it in time.

Anticipating her, he said, “You would never make it.”

Better to play dumb. “Whatever do you mean, my lord?”

“You had better start being grateful for all the time and expense I am going through for this, Bethany.”

“Or what? You'll actually be nice to me again. We could go back to being friends and speaking to each other as equals. I guess I'm not one to live under a police state. I was never a soldier and I don't like taking orders. Not to mention, I told you that if you didn't want to marry me, I would refuse you.”

“We are not equals, nor will we ever be. I am certain your father did not accept this kind of behavior. I will not either.”

“Do you want a child or a wife?” she said with a voice matching his tone.

“I want a wife who will appreciate all I can do for her. You will want for nothing, Bethany. All I ask in return is obedience.”

“Well, it seems we have a problem, because I don't want anything from you that would require my providing unquestioned obedience.”

“Dear God. Why must you be so impossible about this?”

“I'm sorry, Colin. I can't provide you what you want. After the time we've spent together, you'd think you would realize that.”

His head in his hands, Colin realized she was right. One of the reasons he was able to be friends with her was because she thought for herself. She didn't rely on his opinions and didn't follow along. Now, with the two of them to be married, why would he want her to change. He knew why. It was because he didn't want to get married yet. He didn't want to lose his one chance to go abroad and live out his youth. He wasn't ready to raise children. He wasn't willing to give all he worked for up because of some stupid stunt perpetrated by his youthful guest. And mostly, he wanted her to feel the same pain he felt. He stood up and walked past her. Ginny turned to watch him as he went to the door and locked it. Turning back toward her, she became truly scared. What was he going to do that required him locking the door. Was he going to show her just how much stronger he was than she? To hell with this. Ginny quickly stood up and got on the opposite side of her chair from him.

What the devil, he thought. Is she afraid of me now? Am I acting that badly? “Come here now, Bethany.”

“No.”

Letting out a sigh, he walked back to his desk and sat down. First he looked at her, then at her chair. Ginny turned to look at the door, then back at him. What the hell, I might make it. She ran toward the door and reached down to find the key gone from the lock. She hadn't noticed that he'd taken it.

“Looking for this?” Colin was so close, she could feel his breath in her ear. She turned slowly and faced him. Placing the key back into his pocket, he walked forward until she had no choice but to have her back up against the door. There was no escape, even if she got around him. Jumping out the window was no option, even if they were on the first floor.

Putting his face right up to hers, he whispered, “I won't have you afraid of me, Bethany.”

“Then stop scaring me, Colin.”

He chuckled at her then bent his head to kiss her. She would be his wife soon enough, so it didn't seem unreasonable to take a small taste before the ceremony. When she didn't loosen up, he took his hand and pulled on her chin to get her to open her mouth. She finally relented and began to kiss him back. With her up against the door, he could use his hands to explore her tender skin and body. Ginny hated herself for relenting. She wanted nothing more than to kick him in the nuts right now, steal the key and get the hell out of there. Or did she? It was becoming painfully obvious that she wanted him. Not only physically, but she wanted the friendship back as well. So, if she was going to relent, she might as well get something out of it. Taking her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. Colin pulled away from her lips and began to kiss down her neck. First he pulled her arms away from him, then he pushed the sleeves of her gown down off her shoulders. He kissed the newly exposed flesh. Colin reached up and cradled one of Bethany's breasts with his hand. Just as Ginny felt herself slipping into the passion of the moment, there was a knock on the door.

Ginny screamed. It had been so quiet, just their breathing and heartbeats. Then, out of nowhere, a loud insistent knocking.

“Are you alright in there?” It was Pearce, obviously back from whatever task Colin had sent him on.

“Yes, of course, one moment, Pearce.” Colin took her sleeves and placed them back where they belonged on her shoulders. Knowing he had to handle things differently in order to get her to capitulate, he asked gently,

“Please have a seat. We have much to discuss.”

“Alright,” she replied, returning to her chair.

Colin opened the door and spoke to his butler for a few minutes. Ginny heard him say thank you and he was soon behind his desk again. His face a mask, nothing showing beyond what he wanted shown. He now knew how to handle her and used this knowledge to his advantage.

“I believe you will find the modiste in town quite useful. She has made many wedding dresses for local society. Can I have the carriage ordered for you and your mother after breakfast?”

Ginny knew she was being played, but wasn't in the mood for more drama. “Yes, thank you.”

“Perhaps you can join your parents for breakfast and determine if there is anyone within a reasonable distance that you would like invited to the wedding.”

“I don't know for sure, but since we live so far from here, I would doubt it. Perhaps my parents have relatives nearby, though they've not mentioned it to me. I will definitely ask, though.”

“Thank you.”

“Your welcome.”

With that, Colin went back to his paperwork and Ginny left. She closed the door and leaned against it. She did like kissing him and she loved talking to him about almost anything. She thought he was truly someone she could fall in love with, someday. She just wanted to do the right thing, but like life, she didn't always know what that was. And like life, everything could come crashing down before her eyes.

Chapter 12

The next fews days flew by in a flurry of activity. Flowers needing arranging, tables set up, food prepared, the ballroom cleaned, dresses fitted and vicar employed. Ginny found herself alone less and less as she was consulted on preparations, pinned and prodded by the modiste and tortured by her own maid trying to figure out the best hairstyle for the ball after the wedding. It should have all been fun, exciting, but instead, it was torturous and annoying.

Colin ignored her the entire week, even going so far as to leave a room when she entered. How could the other guests not notice? Rumors started to fly, mostly perpetrated by the men who entered the bet. They were all informed that they had lost and Whitmore had won. They all assumed that was the reason for the swiftness of the ceremony. And they all told as many people as would listen, speculating and exaggerating the current state of the bride's womb.

Ginny felt humiliated. She didn't care what other people thought about her, but she did care what Colin thought. And since he was making his feelings on the subject perfectly clear, the talk from everyone else hurt just that much more. Her mother spent a lot of time with her, trying to cheer her up. Eugenia was even able to make her laugh, trying to explain the birds and bees. She became so flustered, and Ginny kept asking ever more embarrassing questions for her own amusement, the whole situation was not just hilarious, but completely useless as far as practical information was concerned. Not that Ginny didn't already know everything she needed to know.

The day before the wedding, Colin's mother and sister arrived. Ginny wasn't there to greet them since she was busy with her final fitting. The modiste was going on and on about her creation. To Ginny, it looked like every other gown in her closet. At this point, Ginny would rather get married in a pair of jeans and her favorite old sneakers.

After the dressmaker finished, Ginny was summoned to the private family drawing room to meet her future in-laws. She was nervous, but again didn't understand why. If she didn't like them, she would probably barely ever see them anyway. She only had to make nice for a few days. Entering the room, every eye turned at once to look at her. Smiling, taking a deep breath, she went to stand before an elegant older woman, with her silver white hair done in a bun. Colin had gotten his eyes from her, but it would appear nothing else. Ginny had seen a portrait of his father and didn't think he looked much like him either. Genes could be a funny thing, but infidelity was even funnier and probably more likely. Colin, from across the room by the window, stated, “Mother, please allow me to introduce my fiancée, Miss Bethany Hamilton.” His voice was matter-of-fact and his face was the picture of nothingness. It made her angry that he would treat her with such insignificance in front of his family. Once the introduction had been made, he turned back to gaze out the window.

Ginny curtsied to the woman who stood up and gave her a hug. “It is such a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hamilton. You are such a lovely girl.”

Smiling genuinely for the first time in days, Ginny replied, “Please call me Bethany. And the pleasure is mine, Lady Whitmore.”

“Pish-posh. It is not everyone who would marry my stubborn son. Now, please let me introduce my daughter, Lady Evelyn Collingsford and her husband Lord Collingsford.”

Ginny turned toward the couple on the opposite settee. Colin's sister resembled his mother to a tee, although where the mother's hair was white, the daughter's was a lightly highlighted brunette. Both women were an average height and trim of body. Lord Collingsford was tall, with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. He was quite handsome, in a boy next door sort of way.

“I'm so glad you could all make it on such short notice. I hope it didn't inconvenience you too much to be here.”

Colin snorted from the window and Ginny turned a glare in his direction. The look wasn't lost on the Collingsfords, who in turn exchanged a glance. Ginny needed to get a hold of the situation and fast. Nothing put people at ease like serving refreshments, according to the Bethany handbook on etiquette.

“Shall I order some tea?” she asked smiling at her future in-laws.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” Lady Whitmore exclaimed. “Then you shall sit next to me so we may become better acquainted.”

Ginny went to pull the bell pull, which was located next to Colin. He couldn't be bothered with walking the two feet to pull it for her. Ginny had deluded herself during the week that everything would be alright, but now, his behavior in front of his own mother, seemed to indicate otherwise. After speaking to the footman, Ginny sat next to Lady Whitmore. The dowager countess was asking so many questions that Ginny wasn't even sure what she was answering half the time. Both Colin's mother and sister did everything in their power to make Ginny feel better, knowing that Colin was behaving so badly. After the tea was served, Lady Whitmore asked, “So, Bethany, do you hope to start a family right away?”

At this, Colin finally decided to join the conversation. “Mother, we have yet to discuss babies.”

“I was only thinking that I would love more grandchildren. You see, Bethany, I do not live far from my daughter so I am graced with seeing my two grandchildren almost every week. I know it is not fashionable to want to be around children, but they are so sweet.”

Ginny smiled. She remembered how her mother would fawn over her nieces and nephews every chance she got. Being a grandmother was the best of both worlds: access to cute kids and being able to leave when you're tired.

Before she could answer the countess, Colin said, “Bethany is too busy reading to want to deal with children.”

What? Ginny took a deep breath before she said something to her ass of a fiancé. She put on her nearly perfected fake smile and said, “My first morning here, Colin caught me reading his newspaper. I thought the butler would flay me alive for having taken it. It was our first conversation, discussing the articles.”

“Yes, mother. Bethany is full of opinions. Damn near bluestocking, some might say.” He didn't even bother to turn from the window, like he said his insult in passing.

Choosing to ignore his tone, she expounded, “It's true. I love to read and learn about different places. One of my favorite topics is discussing the new American form of government. Colin and I used to have pretty lively discussions over it.” Ginny had trouble keeping the regret from her voice. Before her son could make another nasty comment, Lady Whitmore said, “Really. I should like to know more about it. Perhaps you and I will have a chance to discuss it. I see that Lord Collingsford seems quite interested in the subject as well.”

“I am indeed, Miss Hamilton. I am quite involved in Parliament and would love to hear your take on the American system. I know so few people who know anything about it.”

“I am quite familiar. How long had you intended to stay after the wedding?”

Lord Collingsford, who up until that moment kept quiet and observed the dynamic, said, “We have no set plans. Obviously Lady Collingsford does not wish to be away from the children for too long.”

“Why didn't you bring them along? I would have loved to meet them.”

The conversation continued, but Colin stopped listening. Staring at the window at his beloved gardens, he thought of all he was going to miss by being stuck here making heirs and living with a woman he could only look upon with contempt. She was the same girl he'd met a fortnight ago, with the same opinions and the same quirky sense of humor, but now it had all soured. If only he'd met her on his way back from his holiday, they would have been a good match.

Lost in his own thoughts, mired in his anger, Colin didn't even notice that his mother and sister had taken their leave. Turning in time to see Ginny collecting the cups and placing them back on the tray. He watched her as she used a napkin to wipe up a spill on the table. “What are you doing?”

Not even bothering to look up, she replied, “Cleaning up, Colin. Perhaps you'd like to tell your mother how horrible I am for cleaning up after myself. Or how I sometimes sleep with my mouth open. Or how I don't like mutton.”

Before he could reply, she walked out of the room. Am I really going to marry this man tomorrow? Why would I marry someone who acts like a damn child who didn't get his way? And why would I ever have children with that man?



Ginny woke up early as usual and rang for Tabby. When the little maid entered the room, she was a bundle of excitement. Chattering away about this and that, Ginny stopped her.

“Can you just get me dressed so I can go and talk to Lord Whitmore?” Ginny hadn't slept a wink, all because she wondered if she should go through with it. She felt that if she married him, she would be caught in a quagmire she couldn't escape and might be stuck here. It wasn't until she'd married and got pregnant in her last novel adventure that she ended up here. Ginny was sick trying to figure out what to do.

“Miss, I would imagine he is getting ready himself. It would not be proper for you to go to his chambers, especially this time of the morning.” Tabby looked distressed.

“I'm marrying him in a few hours, Tabby. Do you think it will make a difference?”

Looking pensive and using an intuition Ginny didn't know she had, she asked, “Will you be marrying him in a few hours?”

“I don't know.”

“Miss, I know he has been... distant, but it is most likely because he is nervous. Marrying is a big change for a man who has been a bachelor a long time. You mustn't read too much into it.”

“I just need to be reassured, Tabby. If he really wants to marry me, he'll tell me, right?”

“Wait here.” Before an objection could be uttered, Tabby was gone. Standing in her nightgown, Ginny walked over and sat in one of chairs. Lifting her legs, she tucked them up against her and wrapped her arms around them. Ginny was beginning to feel childish. Tabby was right... just do it and pick up the pieces that fall later.

The door opened and Ginny turned to find her fiancé standing in the doorway. “Your maid said you needed me for something.” He was fully dressed, in black coat and pants. His white shirt and cravat stood out against both the black outfit and his tanned skin. The only color was on his burgundy waistcoat. Ginny thought he looked very debonair.

“I wanted to talk to you about the wedding.”

“Everything has been taken care of, you need not worry about anything.”

“I'm not worried about the ceremony. I was worried about the groom.” The last word was almost a whisper, waiting to see his reaction.

Colin closed the door and walked to the hearth. It felt to Ginny that he was holding something back. Anger, regret. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. “You pick a fine time to worry about me, Bethany. In a few hours, we will be man and wife.”

Ginny could read the writing on the wall. This was not going to go well. He would behave today, but tomorrow or whenever their guests left, he would change into something horrible. Ginny didn't worry he'd beat her. God knew if he tried he'd be in for a big surprise in the form of a frying pan, but he would be cold and distant, probably cruelly so.

Exhausting the air from her lungs in a heavy sigh, she proclaimed, “I made a mistake. I will not marry you today.”

“The hell you won't.” His eyes flashed with something, not anger, but despair. He grabbed both her arms and pulled her out of the chair. His hands shook as he grabbed her face and began to kiss her. He forced his tongue into her closed mouth and he rubbed her back gently. He hadn't touched her all week, not since that morning in his study. Ginny was instantly drawn in, kissing him back with as much fervor as he was showing her.

Not realizing how it happened, suddenly Ginny was lying on her bed and he was on top of her. Straddling her legs, Colin continued the kiss, while slowly exploring her body with this hands. He was all to aware that there was only one layer separating him from her and could be easily disposed of at a moment's notice. They both stopped thinking and began only feeling. Ginny's hands reached into his hair then came down to rub his chest. She realized he was more muscle than she originally thought. Soon her hands were unbuttoning his jacket, wanted to touch the flesh underneath.

Colin had found her breasts and coaxed the nipples erect with his fingers. It pained him not to kiss them, taste them. Reaching up, he pulled the ribbon at the top of the nightgown. Before he could pull it down, feel the soft flesh underneath, the door opened and in walked Tabby.

“Oh, I am sorry, miss... I will... please excuse me...” Tabby sputtered before leaving the room. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Colin collected his senses and stood up immediately. The only evidence of their encounter was his bulging erection through his tight pants and a few buttons undone on his jacket. Using the back of his sleeve, he wiped at his mouth and walked over to the hearth to calm down. Ginny sat up and closed her eyes. What the hell? How was he able to do that to me? To take her mind off what had happened, she consciously worked on slowing down her breathing. Once she'd achieved that, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was staring back at her, his face unreadable, hard as stone.

“Will you be there today?” Only his voice betrayed his feelings, again he seemed desperate.

“Do you really want me to be there?” Ginny was never one to take what she could get. She always seemed to want more.

“Yes, please.”

His simple declaration was enough to put her at ease. Maybe it could be alright, she thought. She nodded her affirmation. He bowed and left the room, with Tabby entering right afterward.

“That is why you should not go to his room before the wedding. I would not have walked in on you there, would I?”

“No, you wouldn't have. I'm hungry. Can I get some breakfast?”

“I will have a tray brought up, miss. I am not going to let you out of my sight again.”

The ceremony was the usual, maybe the words were changed around a bit, but the “I do's” were the same. Of course, that word was used again. “Obey.” What was the point? It wasn't like most women didn't do exactly what they wanted anyway.

After the ceremony came the wedding breakfast. Then the endless number of well wishers. Many of Whitmore's tenants attended a small garden party after the breakfast. Ginny was introduced to dozens of people, many of whom she would have to call upon and work with to make sure everyone was benefited. By four o'clock, Ginny was already worn thin and she still had the ball that evening. It seemed incomprehensible to her all the duties that went along with a wedding. It wasn't much different in her time, many brides nearly going crazy from all the planning. It was a strange way to start a new life. Tabby undressed her, gave her a cold compress with lavender oil to put on her eyes and ordered her to lie down for a couple of hours until it was time to redress her in her ballgown for the next leg of her day. It wasn't a wedding, it was a marathon and Ginny was certain she wouldn't make it. She had only the last leg to look forward to, the wedding night. She supposed she could dance with a few men to get to have that at least. Tabby was in rare form, dressing and doing her hair. Ginny had to admit that she looked quite stunning, in her satin and lace ballgown and her hair done up. She looked elegant, befitting the new Countess Whitmore. Ginny could feel Bethany's cheers inside her head, surpassing all her hopes of a good match. Of course, it remained to be seen if it was a good match.

Her parents met her at her door and walked down the staircase and to the doorway to the ballroom. It was there that she saw Colin again. She'd lost him during the garden party and barely spoke to him at the breakfast. She knew that they would be expected to dance once together, then she would be whisked off to dance with just about everyone else.

Holding out his arm for her, he looked down and said rather staidly, “You look beautiful.”

Gee, thanks, she thought at his lack of enthusiasm. Putting on her fake smile, she looked back up at him and replied, “And you look very handsome, husband.”

There was a flash of something at her mention of the word husband, like he'd forgotten that part. He quirked his lips to a smile that was more creepy than reassuring. That familiar feeling was filling her again. The same one she'd had all week that warned her against marrying him. She took a deep breath and told herself that it would be alright.

The doors were opened and Ginny met a magnificent sight. Hundreds of candles lit up the large ballroom, with dozens of guests lining up to view their entrance as man and wife. Colin led her forward, where she plastered her fake smile on her face and acknowledged those she knew. The quartet began to play a quadrille and before she could object, Colin lined her up for their one and only dance. Refusing to think, she let the music move her to the steps that Bethany had learned years before. Surprisingly, she got through it without hurting herself or others. Once complete, her husband took off, blending into the crowd so she wasn't able to locate him. Just as well, she thought, she was tired of feeling bad about what had happened.

Ginny was forced to dance with several other men before she was able to escape to the terrace. There were a few others on the terrace, enjoying the cool breeze of the late July night. The stars shone brightly above and Ginny relished the alone time she had. It would not last.

“I must say you make a beautiful bride, my lady.”

“Thank you, Lord Clarendon.” Well, it just gets better and better. Coming to stand next to her, he stared up at the sky as she had. Watching him from the corner of her eye, he looked silly, like he was trying to solve the mystery of the universe.

“I hope to see you in London more often. Perhaps you can save a few dances for me at the next ball we both attend.”

“Perhaps.” What was he up to, she was searching her mind for a reason for the changed attitude.

“Lady Whitmore, I owe you an apology. The wager was childish, to be sure. But you must know that I never meant for this to happen. I had been drinking and some of the other men made a comment about my monopolizing your time. It was truly poor judgment on my part. Please say you will forgive me and allow me to be your friend once again.”

Ginny thought it was a nice speech and she didn't believe one damn word. Turning to look at him, she smiled and said, “Of course I forgive you, Miles. I'm sure we can remain friends despite your egregious lack of judgment.”

Miles laughed. He knew she was on to him and loved the way she could turn it back on him. It was not the first time that night he felt he'd made a huge mistake in letting her go to Whitmore. He only hoped it would be the last and he could move on. Perhaps even still having her as a lover, rather than a friend. His stare was intense and spoke of carnal desire. Ginny didn't think it was right of him to be so openly appreciative of her on her wedding day. She wasn't the only one.

“Bethany, it is time.” His terse tone was not missed by Clarendon.

“Good evening, Whitmore. You certainly have a beautiful bride here.” Clarendon bowed to Ginny and started to walk toward the ballroom doors. Under his breath, so only Colin could hear, he said, “Don't do anything to ruin it. There are many who would take your place in a heartbeat.” With that, he was gone. Ginny was escorted through the ballroom, receiving well wishes from the crowd. The married or widowed guests gave her knowing looks. The single girls, especially Lavinia Slowden-Plough, stared daggers at her as she passed. Ginny kept her chin up and she smiled her way through. Through to what, she still wasn't sure.

Chapter 13

Colin escorted her right to a new door, her new room. This room was attached to his private bedroom. Bowing to her, he left her alone. She opened the door to a room twice the size as the one she had previously occupied.

The opulence was overwhelming. Rich fabrics, the color indeterminable in the candlelight, covered every surface: chairs, bedspread, canopy and curtains. Deep Persian rugs covered the floor and the furniture, all a solid cherry wood, filled the remaining spaces. She had two large windows again, still facing the gardens. A door to the right opened and Tabby came in to assist her in undressing. Over her arm lay a satin nightgown, ordered special for her wedding night.

After washing and changing, Ginny went to sit on the bed. The mattress was so comfortable, she almost fell asleep waiting for Colin to show up. Deciding that would put a damper on her “best sex ever,” she got up and began to pace around the new room. Going to the vanity, she opened an exquisite little box. Inside, there was jewelry: diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires. The pieces were gorgeous, much more lavish than anything Ginny had ever owned, let alone Bethany. As she examined each piece, she didn't hear the adjoining door open and close.

Feeling his presence before she heard him, Ginny turned and stared at her husband. Most of his body was still in shadow, but she could feel his intense gaze. Ginny closed the box and walked back to stand by the bed. Colin stood in only his dressing gown. He hated that he still wanted to punish her for her mistake. He removed the gown and folded it neatly over the chair by the hearth. Turning fully toward her, standing completely naked in order to embarrass her, he waited to see how she would react. Her response was only to stare, starting at his toes and working her way back to his eyes.

Ginny noticed that her husband's body was much better than she had imagined. There was no fat on him, only broad shoulders, muscled chest and well toned legs. She'd caught sight of his butt when he turned and it looked model perfect. His chest had a smattering of hair that she found she wanted to touch. She was disappointed to see his penis flaccid, but she hoped she could change that. Wondering why women had special lingerie made for their wedding night when it only ended up as a pile on the floor, Ginny reached down and lifted the nightgown over her head and stood before him naked as well. She saw his careful perusal of her body, spending a bit more time on her breasts. She saw that what was once flaccid was now a raging erection, big and demanding.

When he still didn't move, Ginny walked to him, putting her hands on his chest and feeling the soft hair. She found his nipples and played with them for a moment, feeling them tense beneath her fingers. Moving closer, she began to kiss his neck and shoulder. When he still didn't move, she decided it was time to be more bold. Flattening her hands against this chest, Ginny moved them downward. She knelt down in front of him, coming face to face with his arousal. Her hands completed their journey by moving around the back and grabbing his firm buttocks. She could feel his unsteady breath and his impassioned stare, but still, he did not move.

Pulling her hands to the front, she wrapped them around his erection, feeling the soft skin, the bulging veins and the bulbous head. While one hand caressed the shaft, the other cupped his sack. At her touch, she heard his quick intake of breath, knowing that what she was doing was affecting him. When he still made no move to touch her, she took him in her mouth, using her tongue to play with his sensitive tip. Colin watched his wife with awe. First, she seemed more curious than appalled by his display of nudity. Then, when he refused to move out of spite, she took matters into her own hands, quite literally. Now, she was using her mouth on him and it was nearly enough to drive him mad. As much as he would love to allow her to finish him right now, he had to consummate this marriage. And to do that, he needed her ready and willing.

Pulling away from her, Colin knelt in front of his wife. When she moved to kiss him, he instead bent to kiss her breasts, lick the nipples he'd felt through her clothing, never in the flesh. She put her hands on his shoulders and when she leaned forward, he could feel her long hair on his back. He was aching for her so badly now it was like the most blissful torture. He stood up and held out a hand to her. She took it without question and followed him to her bed. Climbing up, Ginny laid back and Colin went back to kissing and tasting her breasts.

As much as he was angry at her, he didn't want to hurt her physically. So he took his time, using his hands to explore her body, using his mouth to tease her breasts and nipples. Slowly he reached down between her legs and began to rub her gently. He felt her shudder from his invasion, felt her muscles tighten to the sensation. Ginny laid back and let him take control. His hands were not as adept as Ian's had been, but she was in a different body, so that may have had something to do with it. She opened herself up to him, allowed him to play with her nub, felt her body react to the sensitivity. Colin began to enter her with his finger and that was nearly her undoing. As he continued his assault, rhythmically moving his finger in and out, Ginny could feel the familiar budding of passion, the building of her orgasm.

Suddenly, his tongue was there, teasing her clitoris and making her cry out in pleasure. She couldn't think, she could only feel. It was one of the few times her doubts were laid to rest. How could he not care when he was able to give her so much pleasure. And then, through a burst of light, she came with a shudder. Her body, her center, was racked with waves of titillation. Ginny could only remain still, enjoying the effects of his teasing.

Colin felt her wetness, knew she was prepared. He surprised himself by using his mouth on her. It was more than he wanted to give her, more than she deserved. Although he wanted her wet, he hadn't considered giving her too much pleasure. He found he couldn't resist the urge to taste her, to know every part of her body. Kissing his way up her body, Ginny felt hypersensitive to his touch. The urge to have him inside her, born from the earliest time and bred over thousands of years, was making her beg him to come to her. She opened herself up, both physically and emotionally, letting him join with her, become one. Lifting her hips, he slid inside slowly, deliberately. Meeting her resistance, he pushed through as quickly as possible, embedding himself in her. Her walls were tightly clinging to him and he had to fight the urge to move. Instead, he waited for her to make the first move, to let him know she was ready. It was killing him. She was so hot and wet and willing. Colin had plenty of willing women before, but never someone so innocent, untrained. It was more than he could handle. Panting over his invasion, reveling in the pleasure, fighting against the pain, Ginny soon felt as if she couldn't take it anymore. She pulled her hips away, then pushed them back. Colin joined her in the tempo of lovemaking. He would pull out, then come rushing back in to fill her. Despite the soreness of her torn flesh, the pain was forgotten to the building thrill his erection was creating in her. The new orgasm that was being beckoned. Ginny wrapped her legs tightly around Colin's waist, anticipating the rushing feelings. The faster he rocked, the more desperate the feeling. It was a burning, a longing. The female orgasm is hard to describe, and harder to achieve. Ginny relished how easily she achieved such bliss in this world, the romance novel world. All at once, her release was found, exploding through her body. She gripped his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. A moment later, Colin found his release, spilling his seed deep inside her. He grunted and scrunched his face, enjoying the waves that were washing over him. Opening her eyes, she stared at his face until he looked down at her. Ginny reached up and brushed his cheek, hoping he would lower himself and kiss her as he had done those few times before. Instead, he moved off her and rolled onto his back, leaving her cold and exposed. As she turned to snuggle to his side, he quickly rose and walked to the wash basin in the corner.

Once there, he went about pouring water into the basin, grabbing a cloth and removing the proof of her virginity. Lying on her side, she watched him go about the task. When clean, he grabbed his robe, put in on, tied it in place and walked to their adjoining door.

When the door closed, Ginny realized that the entire time Colin had been in her room, before, during and after their lovemaking, he had not spoken a word. No words of tenderness. No words asking if she was alright or if she had been pleased. No words of anger either. For that matter, he had not once kissed her on the lips. It was as if he had made the whole affair as impersonal as possible. She was simply a means to an end, nothing savored, nothing risked.

Ginny wanted so much to walk through that door, scream at him over his callousness, but the thought scared her too much. Some people say that the opposite of love is hate. They're wrong. The opposite of love is apathy. And Ginny was too scared to think he was now apathetic to her. That was a tall hurdle to overcome. Not that she loved him, she didn't. But she did have to live with him until whoever saw fit to send her either to the next novel or home.

Rising from the bed, Ginny walked over and washed herself up. Then, she picked up her new satin nightgown off the floor and put it back on. Without thinking, without feeling, she climbed back into bed and pulled up the covers. Sinking deep into the mattress, Ginny felt herself slipping into the oblivion that only sleep could provide. Before she could surrender completely, a thought occurred to her. Why would he have even bothered having sex with her if he didn't care? The answer was so simple, and so disturbing, that it brought tears to her eyes. Once consummated, the marriage could not be annulled. Ginny was stuck until death did one of them part.

Ginny had a strange dream. Colin was standing over her, presumably staring at her, she couldn't quite tell in the dark. Then he was gone. It seemed the perfect metaphor for their relationship so far. She woke up at her usual time, but didn't have the energy or spirit to get up. Many of the guests were leaving early this morning and she should get up with Colin to bid them farewell, but couldn't face all the knowing smiles and jeers. Instead, she would let Colin do it, since it looked as if his life wouldn't change in the least. Late in the morning, Ginny could no longer ignore her screaming bladder. She got up, rang for her maid, and then went about taking care of business. By the time she left the water closet, Tabby was entering her room from the side door.

“I have a bath being made ready for you, my lady.”

“Thank you, Tabby. Do you think you can call me Bethany?”

Tabby walked back through the same door, with only her laughter left behind. As Ginny rounded the bed, heading for the door, she noticed something on the side table. It looked like a letter. She was almost certain it hadn't been there yesterday. Walking over tentatively, she picked it up as if it contained some incendiary device. Turning it in her hands, she saw it had her name on it.

She opened the letter. Inside was only one thing: a banknote for fifty pounds. Ginny stared at the piece of paper for a long time. At first she didn't quite know what to make of it. Then she realized it was Colin giving her the winnings from the bet. He was paying her for services rendered. Before she could stop herself, Ginny flew through the side door. Tabby watched her pass as she slammed open the next door that led to Colin's dressing room. Then once more through the door that would lead to his bedroom. Knowing that he wasn't likely still there, she checked anyway, still clutching the banknote in her hand.

Coming back into her own dressing room, Tabby stared at her with wide eyes. Ginny's look was murderous and there was only one person who deserved her anger. Muttering to herself, she re-entered her own bedroom and threw the banknote back on the side table. Ginny was no longer thinking clearly, she only wanted to hurt someone. Tears were streaming down her face and she was pacing like a caged animal.

“My lady. Are you alright?” Tabby stood in the doorway, ready to bolt if necessary.

“NO! That bastard!” Ginny crumpled to the floor and Tabby ran over to put her arms around her.

“What happened?” asked the little maid, trying to offer comfort.

Looking at her maid, speaking in a deceptively calm voice, Ginny said, “I'll tell you what happened. I made the biggest mistake of my life. I married a man I thought was honorable and it turns out he's just a huge prick.”

“But, my lady, you have only been married one day.”

“Sometimes that's all it takes.” Ginny picked herself up and then helped her maid. “Come on, Tabby. I need to get dressed and hunt down my husband. If he's at all smart, he'll be armed.”

Chapter 14

After a quick bath, Tabby dressed her simply. Even simply dressed took time and Ginny was itching to find her husband by the time she left her bedchamber. Walking down the staircase, careful to avoid any lingering guests, Ginny went first to Colin's study. Finding it empty, she decided she would be better off asking Pearce where he was rather than wandering the grounds and potentially running into her parents. She pulled the bell in the study and Pearce arrived as if he'd been waiting behind the door for someone to ring. Entering the study, his face the mask of serene, he asked, “Yes, my lady. What may I assist you with?”

“Pearce, where is my husband?” Ginny tried to keep her voice even, but she was only human. Pearce's face took on a confused look. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He seemed to be struggling with what words to use.

“Spit it out, Pearce,” Ginny was not able to keep the annoyed sound from her voice. She felt badly, it wasn't Pearce's fault she was so angry, so more gently she said, “Just tell me, Pearce.”

“Lord Whitmore left this morning, my lady. He said you were aware of it.”

She could now add lying bastard to his list of growing attributes. Ginny heard people walking toward the study and she didn't want this to be overheard. “Pearce, please close the door.”

Pearce walked over and closed the door. When he turned back to her, she offered him a seat, then took the second armchair, “her armchair” as she was coming to call it. “Please start at the beginning.”

“His lordship called his valet up to his rooms late last night, after the two of you retired. From what I learned from Charles, his valet, he was told to pack for an extended journey. His lordship had already planned his trip to the Continent, but I assumed that was postponed due to his marriage. He called me up last night and asked that I have his carriage ready first thing in the morning. Just after dawn this morning, the footman packed up the carriage and his lordship and Charles left. I asked him if he had any instructions for me to give you, my lady. He said you were aware of his plans, sanctioned his leaving and would be in charge in his absence.”

Ginny dropped her eyes to her lap. Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly and tried to figure out how she should handle this. Her husband had abandoned her, with no word of when he planned to return, and she was saddled with running an entire estate by herself. Great, just great, she thought to herself as the butler waited patiently for instructions.

“Pearce, you are to tell no one of this. If anyone asks where Lord Whitmore is, you tell them he was called away on urgent business. You are not to tell any of the staff that he left here without my knowing. Please try to quash any rumors among the staff as well. I know it will be difficult, but I have a great deal of faith in your abilities.”

“Of course, my lady.” Pearce was back to being his usual robot self.

“I have never run an estate before, so I will rely on you quite a bit. If I ask silly questions, please bear with me. If I keep asking the same question, again, keep in mind I'm learning. Now, when do the last of the guests leave?”

“All but your parents, Lady Whitmore and Lord and Lady Collingsford leave tomorrow, my lady.”

“Good. We can keep up the pretense up for another day. Now, what do I do first?” Ginny looked imploringly at her butler, clueless and not wanting to screw everything up.

“You may want to visit with the housekeeper, my lady. She can explain the workings of the staff and household. Perhaps you should meet with the estate manager, Mr. Stevens, as well. He can give you information on the estate and tenants. I shall order a carriage for you this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Pearce. When this is all over, you will be in for a big raise.”

It was a grueling session with the housekeeper. Mrs. Simmons took her on a tour of the entire house, kitchens and even the root cellar. She showed Ginny the kitchen garden where they grew all the vegetables and herbs used in the house. Mrs. Simmons sat down and showed her all the accounts, receivables and payables. All in all, Ginny was confident that she wouldn't have to do much with Mrs. Simmons around. After a private luncheon, as Ginny was still trying to avoid her parents and in-laws, Ginny was driven on a curricle by one of the groomsmen. It reminded Ginny to ask her parents to send Lyle the groomsmen to Wellesley so Tabby could have her sweetheart near. At least one of them should be happy. The trip was pleasant, even though the hot sun was making her sweat through her many layers. They arrived at a small house, set back into a wooded part of the estate. It was white clapboard, with a few windows in the front and well maintained flower garden. The house was surrounded by a white picket fence with a cobblestone pathway to the door. Ginny made her way up the path and knocked on the door. She waited a few moments, but didn't hear anyone approaching, so she knocked again, this time harder. After a few more moments of waiting, Ginny tried the knob. It was locked. So she went back to the curricle. The groomsman, who had been watching the entire episode, suggested she try around back. There was apparently a larger garden and a door to the estate manager's office. Ginny thanked him and took his suggestion. Walking around the house, within the fence, Ginny glanced in every window, but saw no movement.

There was no one in the backyard either, but Ginny saw another door. She promptly knocked, but again, no answer. Trying the knob, this time she found it open. Walking inside, she saw a neat office: a desk and chair, several shelves loaded with ledgers, and two extra chairs for guests.

“Hello, is anybody here?” Ginny had a moment of foreboding that she couldn't quite understand. Nothing was out of place, everything was neat and clean, with no dust or cobwebs. No papers strewn about, no furniture overturned. It looked as if the room's occupant had just stepped out. But something wasn't right and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Walking back to the front of the house, Ginny asked the groomsman, “Does Mr. Stevens have a housekeeper?”

“Indeed, 'e does. Good ole Mrs. Johnson. She lives in the village with 'er 'usband.”

“Why isn't she here?” Ginny wondered aloud. God knew there were always people at Wellesley Hall, but that certainly didn't mean that a housekeeper worked for Mr. Stevens everyday.

“Could be 'er day off, my lady. I could take you to see 'er, if you wish.”

Ginny had no reason to go and see the housekeeper. It probably was her day off, but something just kept nagging at her. Maybe it was from reading too many romance novel on her worst vacation ever. Something always went wrong, so why should her life in this romance novel be any different. Of course, wasn't it enough that her husband had abandoned her the day after her wedding? No, she didn't think so.

“Yes, please. I would like to talk to her.” The groomsman helped Ginny back up onto the seat of the curricle and then climbed up himself. Leisurely driving toward the village, Ginny wondered what had felt so wrong about the situation. It was Saturday, and many servants had only Sundays off. But that wasn't it either. Maybe it was the lack of papers on the desk. Bethany had been to her father's estate manager's office on occasion and remembered that his desk always looked like a hurricane had hit it. But, maybe Mr. Stevens and her husband had cleaned up a lot of outstanding issues in preparation for his extended holiday. Feeling foolish, she was about to tell the groomsman to forget it when they arrived at the small house on the outskirts of the village. She still would have told him to drive on except that Mrs. Johnson was standing right in her front garden, pulling weeds. Looking up at them, she stood up and walked over to the curricle.

“Good day, my lady.” Mrs. Johnson was of average height and of medium build, not fat, but not skinny either. She had her mousy brown hair pulled back in a bun, which showed off a generous smattering of grey. She wore a large apron, covered in dirt. “What brings you by today?”

“Actually, I was looking for Mr. Stevens and thought maybe you knew his schedule. I hate to bother you on your day off though.”

“My day off, my lady?” Something about Mrs. Johnson's voice was strange, like she thought Ginny must be pretty dense. “Mr. Stevens quit the other day. He told me that you would recommend me to the new estate manager when he is hired, but that I would not be working until then.”

“What? Mr. Stevens quit. My husband didn't tell me that and as far as I know, no one on our staff knows he quit either. When did he leave?” Ginny began to search her brain, but didn't remember meeting him at her wedding. Of course, she had no idea what he looked like, so maybe she did and just didn't remember. God knew her husband hadn't been very good at making introductions.

“Why, it was only a couple of days ago, he told me to stop attending the house.”

“Did he say why he was leaving?”

“Yes, he said he got a new position in Sussex. The house is closer to his aging mother and he wanted to be able to spend more time with her.”

Ginny didn't want to freak out in front of Mrs. Johnson. “Thank you for the information. I will certainly recommend you to the new estate manager when I find one.” Smiling, Ginny took her leave and walked back to the curricle. “Let's go, Thomas. I have to get back and talk to Pearce again.”

“Of course, my lady.”

The ride back wasn't memorable, mostly because Ginny was busy trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. She'd never run an estate, knew about as much about farming as any of the girls from Sex in the City and wasn't even sure she had the right to spend her husband's money. Ginny refused to think it could get any worse because that is precisely when it does.

Back at the house, the groomsman helped Ginny down from the carriage. Just as she walked up the stairs, Bethany's parents opened the door and stared at her. It was plainly written on their faces that they knew something was up and were prepared to torture the information out of her. Taking a deep breath to prepare for the revelation that their new son-in-law was a lout, Ginny entered the house.

“Young lady, we need to speak to you.” Eugenia looked like she'd been suffering from non-stop constipation for a week. Her face was red and pinched, her back ram-rod straight. “Your mother-in-law is waiting upstairs in the family drawing room.”

Oh, goody, Ginny thought sourly, now I get to tell Colin's family what a jackass he is too. There is no escaping the good times wagon today!

With a look of pure resignation, Ginny followed her parents up the stairs to the family drawing room. As she entered, both her mother-in-law and sister-in-law turned and watched her enter. Lord Collingsford stood up and appeared very anxious. No one said a word, they just stared at her astonishingly.

“Mother. Father. Why don't you have a seat.” Ginny turned and closed the doors, hoping that the news of her husband's betrayal would not reach any of the other guests who remained. Turning back to her audience, oddly exhausted from the day's events, Ginny began her grim story. “Colin has decided to take his extended holiday to the Continent. He did not inform me of this himself, I had to find out from the butler. Somehow I'm supposed to run this house and estate on my own.”

Finishing her speech, Ginny went to the nearest chair and dropped into it. Shoulders slumped, eyes half closed, she looked like just relaying the story had been draining. Quite frankly, it had. Ginny didn't have any more energy to exert, so she sat there like a jellyfish, with no backbone. She waited patiently for the commentary. Perhaps, intense questioning from his family.

“Well.” It was surprising to hear Eugenia say so little.

“Oh, my,” came from her mother-in-law.

Assorted sighs were exchanged between Lord and Lady Collingsford.

Last, but not least, came William, Bethany's father. “I will hunt him down and teach him a lesson in gentlemanly behavior. If he never intended to be a husband to you, Bethany, I would never have allowed this union to take place.” His voice was calm, but his face was blotched and red. “It matters not. Bethany, we will immediately petition for an annulment. The scandal will be difficult to weather, but I will not have you live this way.”

Ginny found her first smile of the day. Not that he was really her father, but it was always nice to learn you have a protector. Even if it should have been her husband instead. Unfortunately, she needed to put an end to his hope. “There will be no annulment, Father.”

“Bethany, you will still marry. There are plenty of good men who will overlook this incident when they learn you were the victim.”

“Father, the church will not annul this marriage after... last night.” Ginny felt her gaze turn down. He may not be her real father, but it still wasn't something she wanted to discuss in front of Bethany's family. However, it was what it was and they needed to know.

Peering up to see his reaction, Ginny saw William's shocked face as it turned away from her. “I assumed... I had not realized.”

“Better not to dwell on it. Bethany, I am at your disposal. I know nothing of running an estate, but I am sure together we can make it work.” Ginny smiled at her new mother-in-law. She had been wondering whose side she would take, if she would take sides at all. Ginny didn't want her to hate her son for his bad judgment, and she didn't want to take the brunt of her anger over the possible scandal.

“Thank you, Lady Whitmore,” Ginny whispered.

“And Lord Collingsford and I would be happy to help. And I know that my brother employed the best estate manager around, so he will take care of most of the day to day issues.”

“I'm sorry to tell you, Evelyn, that my husband's estate manager, Mr. Stevens, quit a few days ago and is gone.”

“What!?” William never screamed, hadn't yelled in years and would barely speak above a quiet voice. His exclamation at hearing this news nearly made Eugenia fall out of her chair. William's face took on a dangerous color and he was breathing fast and heavy. Ginny noticed he was sweating, although the room was not warm.

In an effort to placate him before the news gave him a heart attack, Ginny said, “Father, don't alarm yourself. I'm a strong girl and I obviously have lots of help. I will get through this. It was my mistake that led me here. I take full responsibility. Everything will be fine, you'll see.”

Her father seemed to calm down, at least his face wasn't so red anymore. He smiled weakly at her, feeling the force of his own guilt. After all, his daughter did try to tell him that Lord Whitmore hadn't planned on marrying yet. The indiscretion could have been covered up or glossed over, but in his pride, he demanded marriage. Now his only child would be made to suffer for it. “Your mother and I will stay until you are settled. I know a man who would make a great manager. He was recently released from the Warwick estate when the old earl died. I will write him immediately to see if he would be interested in the position here.”

“Thank you father. I wouldn't have had any idea where to hire a new manager.”

Lady Whitmore, whose face held a perplexed look, suddenly inquired, “What mistake led you here?”

Ginny got up and rang the bell. “This is going to take a lot more tea.” Sitting down, she started from the beginning of the story.

Chapter 15

One year later

Colin was lying in bed, a beautiful senorita draped over him like a coat, dark locks spread across his chest. The pension where he was staying had views of the sea. They were so close he could hear the waves crashing against the shore and smell the salt in the air. The small town of San Sebastion was to be his last stop on his journey through the Continent. Truthfully, he was relieved. He missed his home. Maneuvering his way out from underneath the woman, Colin quietly got dressed. He had no interest in waking her, no interest being with her. His guilt had eaten away at his soul from almost the beginning of his journey. Paris, Milan, Rome, Barcelona, now here. A different woman in each city, a different betrayal of his wedding vows. He could still vaguely remember a time when he was a consummate gentleman, not even speaking to a girl if he thought she would get the wrong impression. Now, he was a rake, taking the advances of any pretty girl who was looking to supplement her meager income by becoming his demimonde. Colin had lost interest in sex, barely achieving an erection most nights. The woman would never comment, in fear of losing the gifts and dinners, the jewelry and clothing. Most nights, he would lie with the woman, wrapping his arms around her and pretending she was his wife. It took almost a year for him to admit that he wanted his wife back, wanted the relationship they had before the kiss. He wanted someone to talk to, debate with. He wanted her witty intelligence, her uncanny insight. Plainly, he wanted her. Bethany. He had often considered returning earlier, but was afraid. Was she engaged in an affair with someone else? The threat that Clarendon made on his wedding night constantly played in his mind. Well, he had messed it up and he was still trying to figure out how he would get her back.

With the last girl, the one lying in his bed at the moment, he hadn't even consummated their relationship. She was an after thought: new city, new girl. Esmerelda was beautiful, but only spoke enough English to get by and his Spanish was deplorable. She attached herself to him almost immediately, as he checked into his lodgings. He wondered how many other foreigners she'd slept with, how many other men had made her rounds.

Staring out at the sea, Colin felt tired. Tired of running away. He wanted his life back. He was the Earl of Whitmore and he needed to start living that life again. He needed to be a husband to his wife and possibly a father to his child.

Colin had received many letters from Bethany over the year. At least he thought they were from her. He would refuse to read them, since they would only exacerbate his guilt. It had only recently occurred to him that he may have left Bethany pregnant after their one night together. At this moment, he could be a father, albeit an absent one. The letters had stopped a few months back, leaving him no chance to hear about home. The situation with Napoleon had gone from tolerable to bad to worse in the course of the year. The treaty of Amiens had been broken and it was no longer safe to be English and within the confines of Napoleon's realm. That was only an excuse. He didn't really need one. It was time. Tomorrow was his one year anniversary. He, of course, would miss it. He vowed it was the last thing he would miss. Colin booked passage to London. Although arriving in Southhampton would be quicker, Colin was unable to find any ships to take him. The quickest ship was leaving today, at high tide. He would be on it and he would make it up to her. He vowed to be the husband he should have been a year ago. He vowed to be the best husband he could be.

Colin remembered how Bethany had owned up to her mistakes. When they were caught kissing, she took immediate responsibility. She was willing to forgo his proposal and live with the scandal. She never wanted to ruin his life. In exchange, Colin wanted to punish her. He made her marry him, led her to believe that it would work out and then left her to clean up the mess. His staff was competent, so she had little to worry about, except possibly a pregnancy.

Bowing his head in shame, he set out to get breakfast. He barely ate anymore, barely slept. He was a shell of his former self, but that would change. It would change as soon as he boarded the ship.



Tonight is the night, Ginny thought longingly. She'd waited an entire year and why? She certainly couldn't say. Her husband had left her the day after their wedding so he could sleep with a bunch of tarts in Europe. It was her turn. Not to sleep with a bunch of tarts, just one tart. And, quite frankly, he had actually changed. No longer the man whore of rumor, he had become the respectable one. He had become what her husband had once been and had ought to have stayed.

Lord Clarendon was invited to a private dinner. A private dinner that would lead to much more, if she had any say. And since the man had been actively pursuing her for the past year, she didn't think it would take all that much convincing.

Ginny was currently staying with her in-laws, the Collingsfords. She and Evelyn had become the closest of friends over the past year of waiting. Waiting to see if her errant husband would return and beg her forgiveness. The first few months, she thought she could forgive him after what had led to their nuptials. After all, it was her fault. Then, the next few months, she thought she would make him work for it. He would have to be at her beck and call in order to hope for a reconcilation. But today, when he still didn't appear for their one year anniversary, that had sealed the deal. She was going to sleep with Miles, with very little actual sleeping involved.

Ginny was most surprised by her sister-in-law's approval. Evelyn had even suggested the arbitrary date as a last stand. If he couldn't be there for that one date, he didn't deserve his wife's fidelity. After the year of hell he'd put her through, why should Ginny care about their wedding vows?

It was a horrible time of year to be in London. Hot, sticky weather only emphasized the existing pollution. Ginny had been to modern London several times. It was a beautiful city, but one couldn't escape the bad air. It seemed strange that two hundred years earlier, it was just as polluted, maybe even worse. In the future it was vehicles, in the past, factories with no emission standards. One had to avoid garbage and human waste being thrown from windows and into gutters. It was said that someone could walk across the Thames and not get his feet wet on all the garbage.

Regardless, Ginny couldn't have an illicit affair in the country, not in front of her husband's staff. As much as what he did hurt and humiliated her, she couldn't be so callous in return. It was a matter of pride on her part, as well as the fact that she figured he'd be back someday and they would have to live together. And so, her sister-in-law Evelyn had not only sanctioned the rendezvous, but encouraged it. She offered her home and staff, who were extremely loyal and not prone to gossip. Well, not as much gossip anyway. Ginny felt comfortable having her fun, enjoying her friend's company and avoiding the meddling old ladies of the ton.

She and Miles had already crossed certain boundaries before this night. The first time he kissed her, they were with a large group at Vauxhall Gardens, towards the end of the little season. Ginny, depressed over her lack of finances to pay off even the most basic of bills, was not inclined to even attend the season. Of course, Evelyn wouldn't hear of it and insisted that she come and stay with her. Even bought her some new dresses that Ginny tried to decline, but her sister-in-law persisted in making her take. It was almost time to return to the country, when during a dinner party Miles suggested the outing. “It would be good for all of us to get out. Vauxhall will be closing down soon, so we need to take advantage. There won't be a crush, with many too skittish of the cold.”

“That is a delightful idea, Lord Clarendon. Collingsford and I have never been together, have we dear?”

“No, I believe not.”

“We should invite a large group. It is infinitely more fun with many, rather than fewer.” Evelyn was already organizing, a favorite pastime of hers.

And that was how it happened. Without so much as a word from Ginny, she was invited and accepted the invitation. During the entire conversation, her only question was: What the hell is Vauxhall? She remembered vaguely reading about it in one of the romance novels she'd read, but couldn't quite place it. The next evening, leaving in a carriage with Evelyn, her husband and Lord Clarendon, Ginny was treated to her first view of the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall. Holding Miles' arm, Ginny viewed the gardens, the supper boxes and the grand rotunda. There was an orchestra, playing a variety of tunes that many guests were dancing to. There were several paths, lit by lamps, that led off to who knew where, but Ginny could likely guess. All the guests were dressed in masks and domino costumes. All in all, it reminded Ginny of a country fair, without the ferris wheel. There were booths hawking an assortment of items, roving entertainers: jugglers, acrobats and such. There were even pickpockets and petty thieves, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. The mood was festive, but Ginny hadn't been in a festive mood since the summer.

Sitting in their supper box, drinking some dreadful punch, Miles tried to cheer her up. “Perhaps you would like to see the gardens?” He lifted an eyebrow to her.

“That would be difficult at night, my lord.” Lifting an eyebrow right back. A look came across his face that suggested he was well aware of what time of day it was. Ginny knew she was supposed to flirt, be clever with her refusal, but it had never been in Ginny's nature to beat around the bush. So they stared at each, challenging the other to come up with the next response.

“Would you care for more to drink?”

Squinting her eyes slightly, disappointed in his lame riposte, she answered, “No, thank you. If you would like to go for a walk, please don't let me stop you.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left you alone?” Ouch, she thought, low blow.

“You wouldn't be the first, Miles.” Ginny turned slightly to stare out at the few folks still milling around the supper boxes. Most had taken off for the dancing or other entertainments.

“That was not what I meant.” Turning back to look at him, Ginny instantly felt bad for her assumption. Miles looked forlorn, his face drawn in shame. Obviously, he hadn't meant to cut her so deeply. “Please accept my apology. I only wanted to make you smile again. It is a sight I have not seen in some time.”

Casting her gaze to her lap, she replied, “I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a bit oversensitive right now. I think I would like to go for a walk.” She smiled back, not quite happy, but aiming for reassurance. They wandered down the dark paths through the gardens, occasionally coming across two bodies in shadow. Not being able to

resist after the first time, Ginny turned to Miles and asked, “What type of foliage do you imagine that was, my lord?”

Smiling, but never turning to look at her, he replied, “I am not familiar with flora that is quite so... boisterous.”

“Are there wild animals loose in the gardens?” To emphasize her fear, Ginny put her hand to her breast.

“It would seem so, Lady Whitmore. A very rare species of rutting pig, perhaps.”

“You may be right. I believe I heard it snorting.” With that, Ginny found herself laughing. The sound of her laughter was intoxicating to Miles. He had spent the last few months trying to make up for his stupidity in letting her get away. At first, Miles would never have considered cuckolding his good friend, even with Whitmore's behavior being so unseemly. But, after several months of close contact with Bethany, he felt his devotion to friendship wearing down. He had wanted her for a long time, but now it bordered on physical pain. Regardless, he needed her to make the first overture, not wanting her to think that his behavior was an elaborate plan to seduce her.

Miles Clarendon was never known for his charity. If he was showering a woman with attention, it was for one purpose only. Bethany had been the exception. As much as he wanted her, he never made any sexual advances toward her. He feared losing the friendship they'd developed. Not that the ton weren't gossiping and speculating. Especially since he was not reported to be with any other woman, not even the convenient women of Miss Love's fine establishment.

Finding an empty bench, Miles offered her a seat. Ginny stopped just short of it and turned around to face him. In the dark of the alcove, where the light from the gaslamps couldn't reach, Ginny put her hands on his chest. What are you doing? she asked herself. Miles had been a kind friend, and she was somewhat leery of losing that relationship, but she wanted to feel good, even for a moment. Miles was left speechless for a moment. Ginny could feel his uneven breathing under her hands. When his senses returned, he asked, “Are you unwell, Bethany?”

“No, I'm alright.” Ginny took a deep breath and stared at the shadow of his face. Reaching her hand up behind his neck, she gently

pulled his head down to hers. “I wouldn't want to compromise you, Miles.”

He could hear the laughter in her voice. Before he could think better of it, he placed his lips on hers. Gently rubbing his lips to hers, he moved his hands to her waist, wrapping them around her back. When she opened her mouth and touched his lips with her tongue, Miles was lost. His passion exploded, revealing to Ginny just how much he'd wanted this and everything or anything else she would give him. It was nearly overwhelming, for both of them.

Miles felt himself moving her to the bench. It was like some otherworldly, out of body experience, where he was merely a spectator, not the perpetrator. He grew so hard as to be painful, cupping her bottom up to rub against him provocatively. When Ginny sighed into his mouth, he lost his control, laying her down on the bench, ready to lift her skirts and plant himself inside her.

It was at that precipitous moment, that the famous Vauxhall Garden fireworks began, bathing them in light. They were no longer able to hide in darkness, now having to face the fact that she was married, and he was a rake. It had all the power of a bucket of ice water in defeating their passion. He pulled away sharply and turned around. Running his hands through his short hair, he murmured to her, “I am sorry.”

Ginny sat up on the bench, feeling like she'd put him in an impossible position. She wasn't an idiot, she knew he wanted her. She also knew he battled those feelings so he could be her friend. It wasn't Miles who should feel bad, it was her. Taking a deep breath, making sure she was still put together and no clothing or body parts had worked their ways out of place, she went up behind him. “No, Miles. I'm the one who's sorry. You've been my friend and I used you horribly. I'm sorry.” Ginny didn't consider that what she said was an impossibility in this time period. Women didn't take advantage, only men. Women could seduce, but no man could claim he was injured over said seduction.

Turning again to face her, before the words could leave his lips, Evelyn and her husband walked up the path.

“Bethany, Clarendon, is that you?”

Miles turned just in time to watch the two walk up the pathway toward their alcove. He tried to school his features into something akin to boredom when he heard Bethany mutter under her breath, “God dammit.”

Knowing that she was as distressed over the situation as he, his face must have taken on a guilty look. The look on Evelyn Collingsford's face was telling enough. She knew something had happened and Miles Clarendon was sure that couldn't be a good thing.

“Bethany, did Clarendon bring you up here to watch the fireworks,” Evelyn asked, providing them the perfect excuse for their absence from their group.

Which was why Miles couldn't believe his ears when he heard Bethany reply, “No, we were just walking around, admiring the scenery.”

“Indeed.”

They walked back together, meeting up with their group only to say goodnight. The ride back to the Collingsford's home was quiet, subdued. Miles feeling guilty, Lord Collingsford feeling tired, Evelyn feeling curious and Ginny wondering if she could forget just how incredible that kiss had been. Ginny knew she should feel guilty about kissing someone other than her husband, but she didn't. Maybe because her husband had left her with no idea of when he would return. Maybe because of the enormous mess he left her to clean up. Or maybe, just maybe, because it wasn't her life and she was in the same position she'd been in with Ian. Live for the moment, since it was obvious she'd already “unromanced” this plot line.

So, after that night, she and Miles would try to behave. After she retired back to Wellesley Hall, he would visit occasionally, having purchased an estate not far from Whitmore's. When they would find themselves alone, it would sometimes lead to kissing, but never more than that. Ginny began to feel like the teenager, careful not to get caught by her parents on the couch. Mostly, they continued their friendship. She used him as a sounding board and he used her as a conscience. It was rewarding in its own way, for a while. Now, standing in front of her mirror, examining herself to make sure everything was just right, she felt nervous. Although she hadn't been faithful to her husband for quite sometime now, this was different. This was going down a path that would probably not be forgiven. Not that she felt she had anything to be forgiven for, she knew that the likelihood of reconciliation would be gone. And with that, she may never be able to move on.

Live for the moment, she repeated her newest mantra. If she sat around and waited for her husband to reappear, she wouldn't be able to respect him or herself. She needed to do something for herself, after a long year of doing for everyone else. Tonight was definitely the night and she refused to have any regrets.

Chapter 16

Ginny sat across from Miles wondering if he suspected that tonight would be their first time together. Sipping her soup, she had a hard time coming up with conversation. That had never been a problem, with Miles saying inane things and Ginny calling him on it, making him talk in plain English and ask her questions despite her “tender sensibilities.”

He knows, she thought. He looks nervous. As the footman came to remove her soup, she was smiling over his agitation. She thought about putting him out of his misery by revealing her ultimate plan, but that would take some of the fun out of it.

“What has you smiling so, my lady?”

“You didn't look like you enjoyed your soup, Miles. Is there a problem?” Her smile beamed even larger, as she tried to hold back her laugh.

Wondering at her game, he replied disinterestedly, “Not at all. I am quite well. If I had an issue it would be trying to figure out what you might be up to.”

Eyes widening in surprise, she remarked, “Up to? Me? What could I possibly be up to?”

“You may as well tell me. I have come to know you too well over the past year to know you are incapable of keeping a secret. If you have something to confess, it might as well be now.” His look of boredom was marred by his attempt to stifle his own laughter. If there was one thing he'd grown to love about Bethany Whitmore was her ability to make him laugh. Truly laugh without feeling as though he broke all the rules of polite society.

The footman arrived and served the second course, some sort of poultry with baby potatoes. The footman left the room, leaving them alone once again. Ginny nibbled at her offering, not really tasting it. Miles was right, she had a hard time keeping a secret. Especially one that involved him so intimately. Keeping her eyes on her food, she asked, “I was wondering if you might like to stay tonight.”

Not fully understanding, Miles replied, “Of course. Did you think I would leave as soon as dinner was over?”

Looking up from his meal, he noticed that Bethany was staring at her lap. It suddenly hit him what she was asking. “Oh,” was all he said at his epiphany.

Looking up, staring him right in the eyes, she was suddenly filled with trepidation. Maybe he didn't want to take it any further because of his friendship with Colin. Why had it never occurred to her that he wouldn't want to screw over his friend? “Oh, God. Did I just assume something I shouldn't have?”

“No!” Miles was out of his chair and at her side in seconds. Taking the seat next to her, holding her hand in both of his, he declared, “You may have assumed, my lady, but not incorrectly. I only wonder why now?”

Hearing her explanation in her head, Ginny realized how unbelievably selfish it was. Blushing from the shame, but not willing to lie, she explained, “Today is my anniversary and as you can see, my husband still hasn't come home. I'm tired of waiting. I feel like I'm using you, but there is no one else I'd rather spend my miserable one year anniversary with than you.” A small smile tugged at her lips. Pulling himself up, looking regal in his black coat and pants, he smiled a seductive smile back. “I would be honored to spend your anniversary with you. Is that what we were waiting for all this time?”

“I had to give him a chance. Although it sounds kind of silly to me now.”

“Not silly. You are a woman of great honor.” Taking her hand and caressing her cheek, he continued, “He did you a great injustice. I fear my own imbecility led to such a circumstance. You deserve far better than either of us, Bethany.” His voice was more of a caress than his fingers. Ginny was smitten, and none too little horny. Miles was gorgeous and experienced and willing. A sexual trifecta.

“If you're done with your dinner, my lord, perhaps we should retire.” Whispered, but no less a promise. That beautiful, roguish smile appeared and made Ginny's heart flip-flop. “I am quite finished with dinner, my lady.”

Pulling out her chair, he led her from the dining room. On the way up the stairs, Ginny asked the butler to have some whiskey brought to her room. Hand on his arm, the two walked up the stairs together.



Once outside her room, Miles opened the door and excused himself for a few moments. Ginny figured he was going to the bathroom, possibly freshening himself. After using the privy herself, she then walked to her vanity and took a hairbrush to her cropped locks. One of the first things she'd done when she returned to London after her wedding was cut her hair. Her russet curls now bobbed and swayed with her movement. It felt great not to have so many hairpins in place anymore.

A gentle knock came and with it, the butler with a tray, a decanter of whiskey and two glasses. He gingerly placed the tray on the table in between two chairs in front of the hearth. No fire blazed tonight, not with the humid air of July. The windows were open and emitting a small breeze that helped cool the room. Ginny walked to the table and had just finished pouring two glasses when Miles appeared in the doorway. His smile revealed every emotion. Happiness, excitement, longing. It was nothing that Ginny wasn't feeling as well. He entered the room, closed and locked the door and came to stand next to her at the table. Ginny handed him one of the glasses, held hers up and declared, “To tonight.” Clinking her glass to his, she downed the shot in one gulp.

Miles sipped a small amount of the amber liquid. Not the best he'd ever had, but he knew that Bethany enjoyed her whiskey. Taking her glass from her and placing it back on the tray, he grabbed her suddenly. Pulling her toward him, he kissed her hard. He felt her hands come around his neck as her fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck. When her tongue began to duel with his, Miles knew he needed to slow down or this would be a short night indeed.

Pulling her away, he tsked, “Now, now, my dear. We mustn't get ahead of ourselves.”

Ginny set herself in the chair by the hearth. “Maybe you should remove your clothing, my lord. I shall just sit here and watch.”

Miles nearly lost it right there and then. My God, I may be in love with this woman, he thought as he untied his cravat. After removing it, he undid the buttons on his jacket. Not bothering to fold it, he threw it on the other chair. Next came his waistcoat and shirt. Sitting on the chair, Miles removed his boots and stockings. Left with only his breeches, he turned his head and stared at her in return. “I believe it may be your turn, my lady.”

Ginny was temporarily struck dumb. Watching him remove his clothing had been so erotic that she was practically panting. His chest and shoulders were magnificently tanned in the candlelight. His dark chest hair liberally covered his muscled upper body, continuing where she could not see it under his waistband. Standing slowly, ready to take her turn, Ginny realized that her dress had its buttons up the back.

“I will need some help, my lord.”

Speaking breathlessly, he responded, “It would be my pleasure.”

Running his hands slowly up her back, his fingers finally made it to the top button. One by one the buttons were undone. By the time he reached the last button, he felt his control slipping. After faithfully completing his task, Miles again sat in the chair and watched her, painfully aware of the tightness in his trousers. He watched as she slid the dress forward, letting it drop to the floor. Watched as she removed first her petticoats, then her slippers, garters and stockings. Before she could remove her chemise, he stood before her, letting his fingers trail a line down each side of her neck, over her shoulders and down her arms.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”

His simple declaration, made so genuinely, started her heart fluttering. Bending down, he took her mouth, possessing it. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting the whiskey on her breath. His hands, seemingly working on their own, cupped her breasts, then slowly released the tie at the top of her chemise, moving it down her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. Naked before him, he took a step back and admired the view.

Ginny never felt such power before. It made her all the more heady as he swept her up in his arms and brought her to the bed. Placing her down on top of the covers, he stepped back and began to unbutton his pants. As his fingers reached the first button, there was a small knock on the door. At first, Ginny thought she was hearing things. When the knock came again, followed by a small voice saying, “An urgent message for his lordship,” Ginny was ready to start screaming.

Miles walked to the door, opened it a hair to allow for the missive to be passed and closed the door again. Walking to the nearest candle while looking to Ginny with concern, he opened the note. Ginny noticed his face. Even in the candlelight, he looked suddenly pale.

“What is it?” she asked, climbing off the bed and walking to his side.

“My father. He is dead.”

“Dear God. Miles, I'm so sorry.” She stared at the letter, incredulous. “What can I do?”

Turning his head to look at her, realizing at that very moment that he was head over heels in love with her, he said, “I must go.”

“Of course. I'll get dressed and have someone fetch your carriage.” Ginny grabbed her chemise. After putting it on, she grabbed her robe from the wardrobe and walked to the door. Calling out from the doorway, the butler returned and she gave him instructions.

Returning to the room, she began to collect his clothing and help him get dressed. Once completed, with his cravat crudely tied and somewhat askew, he said, “I am sorry.”

“What? You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who's sorry. Were you and your father close?”

“No. He was a cold man who fancied himself dying every other month. I had always thought he would outlive us all.”

Taking his face in her hands, she pulled him down to her face. “If there is anything I can do for you, Miles, please let me know. I am at your service.”

“I will be leaving the city tonight. Hopefully I will see you during the season.” They walked out the door and started down the stairs. At the bottom step, he said, “You must know I had planned this evening ending a little differently.”

She smiled at him and stated, “A lot differently I hope. Take care, Miles and God speed.”

On his way out the door, the butler handed him his hat and cane. “Good evening, your grace.” It was at that moment that Miles felt the enormity of the situation. He was now a duke.

Chapter 17

Weeks after setting out, Colin finally got to walk on solid ground again. His ship docked late in the afternoon, so he would not be able to start his journey to Wellesley until the next day. The plan was to go to his London townhouse, get a good meal, a bath and good night's sleep. The rest of his plan would have to wait until he saw his wife again.

Hiring a hackney, his valet helped load their trunks on the back. They set off from the port, journeying up familiar streets. Pulling up in front of his home, Colin felt a sort of nostalgia. It had only been a year, but it felt much longer, perhaps because of the guilt. Bethany had probably stayed here while he was gone. It felt good to be somewhere she'd been.

Exiting the carriage, he strode up the few stone steps and knocked on the door. Expecting it to take a few minutes, since there would be few servants in house during the summer, Colin was surprised when the door opened immediately. An unfamiliar footman opened the door and asked if he could be helped. Colin almost laughed out loud. Could he be helped, indeed. “Where is Cabot?” He didn't mean to sound surly, but it had been a long trip.

“One moment, sir.” Before Colin could correct him, the footman had closed the door. Feeling somewhat perturbed by the lack of recognition, he quickly dismissed it. After all, he had been gone a year and the footman was obviously new.

When the door opened again, the butler, Cabot, took one look at the road weary Lord Whitmore and registered a level of shock. “My lord... I... We... Were you expected, my lord?”

“Cabot, my good man. I am sorry for the lack of warning about my arrival, but I am in desperate need of a good meal and a bath.” When Colin attempted to enter his home, Cabot didn't move out of the way. Noticing his blockage and his shocked look, Colin asked, “Is there a problem?”

“My lord, please come in, but I suggest you leave your belongings outside.”

“Very well, Cabot.” Colin turned to his valet and asked him to stay put for the moment. Colin wondered if Bethany had gotten it into her head to redecorate his townhouse for the season. If so, the house was probably a shambles, with dust and debris.

As he entered the familiar foyer, there were no signs of construction. Confused, he allowed the butler to lead him to the small drawing room off the foyer. Again, the room was immaculate and very much as he had left it. Cabot closed the doors and turned toward Colin. The usually stoic butler now looked confused and concerned.

“My lord, as I stated, we were not expecting you.”

“Yes, Cabot, I understand that. What is the problem?”

“I was not aware that you were uninformed about the status of this house.”

“What do you mean 'status'?” Colin was growing tired of this discussion. Why wouldn't the butler just explain.

“My lord, your wife rented out this house. Currently, Lord and Lady Hammersfield are in residence.”

“What?” Colin couldn't believe his ears. Rented out his home? Was this an attempt to get back at him for leaving? Why would she do such a thing?

“Cabot, what do you know about this?” Colin strained to keep his voice even, but it was obvious that he was quite angry.

“I must say I am not familiar with the particulars, my lord. I know that your wife was having some money issues and this house was rented for the funds.”

Seeing the look on his lordship's face, Cabot wished he hadn't been the one to reveal the circumstances. Although there was much talk, he hadn't any idea why her ladyship was in need of money. He had always assumed his lordship was quite wealthy. It was rumored that she was a gambler, having lost large sums in the gaming hells, but Cabot never received any confirmation.

“How long?” was all Colin could say without revealing the depth of his fury.

“We have had someone in residence since last September.”

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his agitation, Colin remarked, “Very well, Cabot. I will go to my sister's residence. Thank you for the information.”

“Very good, my lord. If you are in need of anything, I am at your service.”

Colin nodded and left. He was feeling the depth of his humiliation. What could that woman be thinking? How dare she rent out his house? His house? Cabot didn't have the particulars, but Colin was going to get to the bottom of it and as soon as possible. First he would go to his sister's home a few blocks away. After freshening up, he would seek out someone who could explain what happened. Possibly Clarendon was in town and at one of his clubs. Before this night was through, Colin would be armed with the information he needed before heading to his country home and confronting his wife.

His sister was not yet in town, which was no surprise since it was still the middle of August. Most of the ton would not be returning until September, right before the beginning of the little Season. The Collingsfords'

butler was kind of enough to accommodate him, providing a room and a bath. Colin still had to find a way back to his estate, since he had no access to his own horses and carriage. After a bath and a change of clothes, Colin went to White's to see if he could find his long time friend. Clarendon would often spend the off season in town, since there was little to entertain him in the country. After entering the club, Colin asked the first servant he could find and was directed to the back room. There, sitting by himself with a brandy in his hand, was Clarendon.

Ordering a brandy for himself and another for his friend, Colin went and sat in the chair opposite. Clarendon was staring at the wall and not paying any attention to his new company. Giving him a minute to notice, Colin finally gave up and spoke first.

“Good evening, Clarendon. What has you so occupied this evening?”

Miles' head whipped at the sound of the familiar voice. “Dear God, Whitmore. Finally decided to return, did you?”

“It was time.” Colin reacted to the look in Clarendon's eyes. A look that spoke of disgust and dismay.

“It was time twelve months ago. Why are you here and not at Wellesley?”

“I just got off a boat a few hours ago. I went to my townhouse only to find it rented to someone else.” Colin could feel his anger getting the better of him and tried to calm down. It would do no good to get mad at Clarendon, especially when he needed information. “Do you know anything about that?”

“Of course I do. For while you were out and about the Continent, having a glorious time pissing on your wedding vows, I was here helping your wife out of a rather dismal situation.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

Miles stood up and towered over Colin. How dare he come back and demand anything from him. If it weren't for Colin, Miles would be married to Bethany and living as the Duke and Duchess of Sutherland. Now, as he was trying to drown his sorrows in a glass of fine French brandy, the bastard reappears to demand what he should have known in the first place. Before he could think better of it, Miles picked up Colin by his lapels and punched him square in the eye, sending him flying back into his chair. Clutching his eye, Colin looked shocked. No words would come to him, he simply stared, his one eye wide with confusion.

His voice low and menacing, Miles replied, “I mean that right after you left your wife to live out your youthful fantasies, she discovered that your steward left and took the bulk of your fortune with him. She was left with little to live on and less to pay the bills with.” Watching his former friend's horror, he called out,

“Someone bring Lord Whitmore a cold compress.”

A footman, who was waiting nearby, ran off to fetch the compress. Colin was speechless. Sweat broke out across his brow and he was shaking with anger. Hissing back, he asked, “Are you certain?”

“Of course I am certain. I have been here. If you had bothered to read the letters I sent, Bethany's parents sent or even Evelyn sent, you would know exactly what had been going on here.”

Bowing his head in shame, unable to look at his old friend, he had nothing left to say. What could he say that wasn't already said. He had left his wife to live out a youthful fantasy. He didn't bother to read any of the many letters that were sent to him. And finally, he hadn't been here to help. When he left, he thought everything was in order. Colin had been planning his escape for over a year and thought that everything would be taken care of. He had been very, very wrong.

The footman returned and handed him the compress. Colin took it begrudgingly and placed it over his left eye. Waiting for the footman's retreat, he contemplated why his friend would be so angry with him. Clarendon was infamous for cuckolding some of the most powerful men of the ton. What had he done that was so much more terrible to attract such acrimony.

“How is Bethany?” His voice so low that Miles wasn't even sure he'd said anything.

“She is well. An amazing woman, your wife. Not only did she repair everything, she managed to retrieve part of your money back and rebuild what had been permanently lost. She has a keen mind, Whitmore.” Once again taking his seat, wanting to hurt the man across from him even more, he said, “You need not worry about her too much. She decided that being faithful to you was not necessary.”

Colin felt those words like a sword to his heart and it explained Clarendon's behavior. What could he have expected? He knew damn well that she knew about his particular activities. Looking up from his consternation, he decided he had to know. “Was it you?”

“Yes.” His old friend's face didn't change. Miles continued to look at him with contempt.

“Are you still engaging my wife?”

“No. If you must know, my father died a few weeks ago. After the burial, I came back to London. It seems my bachelor days must end. I must find an appropriate woman to be my duchess. Unfortunately, it cannot be the one woman I find myself in love with.” Looking away, taking a sip of his brandy, he added, “Not unless you decide to disappear permanently.”

“No. I will not do that.” He was, after all, the Earl of Whitmore, as was his father and grandfather before him.

“I had not thought you would. So now, my former friend, how do you plan to win her back?”

“I will make it up to her, Clarendon. And it goes without saying that you are never welcome at my home again.”

Laughing ironically, he replied, “Your wife may feel differently. For above anything else, we are friends. Despite anything else we may have been. And it was a number of loans from me that kept you on your merry chase on the Continent.”

“Then I thank you for that. But I will not allow you access to my wife now that I have returned.” His assertion on the word “my” was not lost on Miles.

“Perhaps you should be on your way. Your wife sold your membership here and I do not wish you as my guest. I believe you know where the door is.”

“Good evening, your grace.”

“Good luck to you, Whitmore. You most assuredly will need it.”

Colin left White's somewhat stunned, but even more disturbed. What a mess he'd left for his wife. A woman with no experience running an estate, and yet, Clarendon said she'd done a brilliant job of it. Now he was even more scared to go home. What kind of reception would he receive from not only his wife, but his staff. How had he mucked up so many lives in such a short time? Returning to his sister's home, he went to bed, knowing that in the morning he would be hiring a carriage to take him home.

Chapter 18

It usually only took half a day to reach his country estate from London, but on the day of his journey, in a hired carriage, it took over eight hours. The skies opened up and the rain was both heavy and constant. Is it my imagination or are the roads worse than a year ago? he wondered after the hundredth pothole. When they finally rode down the long drive to his home, Colin's mood became more reticent. What would he say to her? How would he ever heal the breach between them? Especially now that he knew that she and Clarendon had been lovers.

Why Clarendon? Could she not be more discreet? Did it have to be one of his oldest friends? Before Colin could continue the internal questioning, he had his answer. It wasn't Bethany who had sought Clarendon out, it had been his friend. He could remember all too well the warning he gave on Colin's wedding night. It had not been meant in general, as it was stated, but meant specifically. Colin could also remember how he had pushed Bethany away and made that silly bet. Clarendon had wanted her to marry so he could take her as a lover, never intending to fall in love with her.

Feeling the cobblestones of his courtyard, Colin knew it was time to face his staff. Trying to put on his most haughty look, wanting them to realize immediately that he was still the master of the house, Colin descended the carriage. The main door opened and there stood Pearce, his butler of many years. He climbed the steps and watched the old man's expression. Like any good butler, it didn't change, simply remained passive.

“Good evening, my lord. Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Pearce. It is good to be back.” Suddenly, his staff started to enter the foyer, lining up as if in honor of his return, awaiting inspection. Mrs. Simmons walked up to him and gave him a hug.

“It is so good to have you home, my lord. Shall I fetch your wife?”

Colin didn't know how to answer that question. Of course she should, but he didn't know if he was ready. Instead, he went about receiving well wishes from his staff, as if he hadn't deserted them for over a year. Everyone but Pearce looked genuinely happy to see him.

“Have you all arranged a party without inviting me?” came a voice from beyond the large group assembled in the foyer. Although it had been a year, there was no mistaking who it was. In a flash, the group parted and gave Colin his first view of his wife. At first she still didn't notice him, but as her face panned the crowd, she spotted him. Her face turned pale and her expression stunned.

“Colin,” she whispered before realizing her etiquette. “Lord Whitmore. What a surprise. Were we expecting you?”

Mrs. Simmons came to her mistress, sensing that the shock might send Bethany into a fit of vapors. “Isn't is a wonderful surprise, my lady. After so long you must be quite taken at seeing your husband again.”

Recovering herself, Ginny went about giving orders to cover up her apprehension at having to deal with her husband after so long. “Mrs. Simmons, please have a tea tray made up and delivered to the family drawing room. Pearce, please make sure that his lordship's rooms are readied. My lord, if you would excuse me for a few minutes, I have a few things to deal with. If you would be so kind to rest in the drawing room, I shall join you shortly. As for the rest of you, I'm sure you're glad to see your master again, and I promise that we shall plan a proper homecoming soon, but for now, please go about your duties.” With that, she turned and walked to the study, having to concentrate on not running.

The staff began to disassemble and return to their work. Pearce held a few back to have them assist Whitmore's valet with preparing his rooms and unloading his belongings. Although he was supposed to retire to the drawing room, Colin found himself heading straight for his study. Without knocking, he opened the door and found her standing by the window, holding a handkerchief to her face. Was she shaking? He couldn't tell for sure. When she heard the sound of the door, she turned her shoulders further from his view and said, “I should have known you wouldn't even give me a few minutes to prepare.”

Colin was left speechless. He didn't realize she would need any time to compose herself. After so long, and what could only be a massive abyss between them, he figured she'd wrote him off. He estimated that whatever feeling she may have had for him before he left, was long gone and replaced with nothing.

“I thought this might be more intimate.”

Chuckling, then taking a deep breath, Ginny turned to face him. It had been a long year, one with many twists and turns. She had come out on top, so she had nothing to be ashamed of, and had much to boast about. And yet, she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with this.

Never one to back from a challenge, she said, “Of course. Please have a seat and I'll have the tea brought here.” Ginny walked past him to the door and opened it, calling for a footman. After giving him terse instructions, she returned to the desk, sitting at the business end, rather than the armchair she'd occupied so many times before Colin left.

The move was not lost on Colin, who slowly sat in one of the armchairs and faced her. He watched her as she began to clean up some items on the desk, tidying up the papers and ledgers. When there were no other items left to be shifted, Ginny finally sat back in her chair and stared at her husband. Thankfully, before she could speak, there was a knock at the door and two maids entered with the tea tray. Pearce hovered by the doorway, gaining his mistress' attention. Walking over, Colin overheard him speak to her. “Mr. McCarthy is to arrive momentarily, my lady. What would you have me tell him?”

“Have him wait in the kitchen. Cook can ply him with some sweets until I'm ready. I think he should meet Lord Whitmore anyway. I'll ring you when we're ready.”

“Very good, my lady.” With that, Pearce and the maids disappeared out the door, closing it behind them. Automatically walking to the tea tray, Ginny began to serve them both tea. After a year of being hostess, she deftly poured and added sugar and cream. Handing him his cup, she motioned to the cakes. “Please help yourself, Colin. I'm not sure what you like.”

Ginny took her own teacup and returned to hide behind the desk. No, not hide, she thought, only put myself in a position of power. If it weren't for me he'd be living with relatives right now, his great manor gone and his precious gardens reduced to weeds.

Her internal monologue must have played out across her face because she could see her husband stiffen at the sight of her. Dreading the conversation, but hating to put it off, she began, “When did you arrive in England?”

“Yesterday.” Colin felt himself getting angry, but unsure why. He had spent the entire time on the ship trying to figure out what he could do or say to win her back. Now that he was here, he felt angry at her high handedness, taking his desk, controlling the servants and not showing one ounce of relief to see him home.

“Then you didn't come through Southampton?”

“No, the only ship I could employ went directly to London.”

This conversation was soon becoming more about what wasn't said than what was. “Where did you stay?”

“Excellent question, Bethany. I had thought to stay at my own home, but came to find out that it is no longer mine.”

“No, Colin, it is still very much your home. It is just currently being occupied by someone else.” Ginny begged him to make an issue of it. Mentally challenging him with words that she thought she'd never say, only because she hadn't thought he'd give her the chance. For several months now, she had begun to assume he would stay away, living off her hard work.

“I beg your pardon. To answer your question, I stayed at my sister's home.” He didn't want to rise to her expectations of an argument. He kept his voice steady, putting away his anger which he knew was unfounded.

“What happened to your eye?” Ginny had noticed the blackened eye immediately, but held off asking. She didn't want Colin thinking she cared.

“An accident, not worth speaking about.”

“Fine, then. You must have questions for me. Ask them.”

“What happened?” His question was simple, without malice or provocation. Ginny had to admit she was somewhat disappointed.

“Shortly after you left, I discovered that your steward had abandoned his post. My father, God rest his soul, knew of someone who could fill the position immediately. There are few days that go by that I don't thank God for Sean McCarthy.”

Picking up on her simply made statement, he asked, “Your father? When?”

“Close to six months now. He never forgave himself for forcing our marriage. I could not even afford to travel to his funeral. Your dear mother had to give me the funds.”

Colin noticed how every statement she made had an accusation in it. His anger was coming back, incrementally. He needed to quash it before it got the better of him.

“I am sorry to hear it. Your father was a good man. I am to understand from Lord Clarendon... I beg your pardon, I mean the Duke of Sutherland, that Mr. Stevens stole a large sum of money from me.”

“You spoke to Miles?” she asked before she could stop herself. It had been a few weeks since their ill fated evening together, but she'd not heard from him at all. Not that she couldn't understand why. Clenching his teeth and closing his eyes, he replied, “Yes.” It was the only word he could get out. He knew his voice would betray his true feelings on the subject of Miles Clarendon.

“Yes, Mr. Stevens stole a large chunk of money from you. He kept all the tenant's rents for last year and he was also able to steal your earnings for the year. He never paid any of the bills from your house party or the wedding, so you can imagine how desperate things got around here.”

“I am appalled. He had been my manager for over five years. I had never imagined he was so unscrupulous. You must know that I would never have left if I had suspected such treachery.”

Ginny, who had been taking a sip of tea, slowly put her cup down on the table. Leveling her eyes to his, she thought of all the statements she could make. Instead, she simply said, “Then I'm sorry you didn't know.”

“Bethany... I am unsure how to make this up to you.” That was certainly the truth. As the Earl of Whitmore, he rarely had to apologize. Then, he had never done anything as grotesque as what he did to the woman sitting across from him.

He could see her struggling with what to say next. He wasn't expecting any answers tonight, but he needed her to know that he recognized his own behavior and was trying to acknowledge it. The memory of her taking ownership of the kiss came back to him. She didn't beat around the bush, but owned it entirely. Didn't she deserve that much?

“Bethany, I have no excuses. This past year was not something I am proud of or would ever do again. At the time I thought I was owed it. When I received those letters... well, I just didn't want to have to face my imprudence. I will not expect your forgiveness. I only wish that someday I shall have it.”

Pretty speech, she thought without any compassion. Sounds like something he's been working on for some time, maybe even from the first day he left. Ginny continued to examine his features, trying to determine his sincerity. In the end, she had to have her say.

“I told you I wouldn't marry you, but you begged. Why? Why would you beg when you knew all along that you would leave?” Ginny stood up and began to pace in front of the window. Catching the view of his gardens, gardens she'd worked on personally so they wouldn't fallow, tears entered her eyes. Even after a year of abandonment, she still felt something for him. Not enough to forgive him though. Ginny stopped and stared out the window. Her body rigid, her face turned away so he couldn't see how much pain she was in. She had to tell him how it made her feel, how much pain he had caused. “That morning, when I found the bank note, I could have killed you. I guess it was a good thing you left, because I even terrified Tabby. I couldn't believe that my own husband could be so callous, so unfeeling.” Turning to look at him, wanting him to know it all, she said, “Your actions were beyond vile. They were the stuff of the worst parts of society. I almost wished you'd hit me instead, because at least in that, I could defend myself.”

What could he say to that? He was left without any means to defend himself. Looking down, he wanted to avoid whatever shame she laid at his door. Without looking at her, he felt her move to the door, open it and speak to a footman. Leaving the door open, she turned to him and said, “I have sent for Mr. McCarthy. I think it's about time you two meet.”

Ginny stood at the door, intending only to introduce them and leave. She needed to be alone, or at least away from Colin. A moment later, Sean McCarthy entered the room. Smiling in his direction, she motioned him to the other chair. “Sean. I would like to introduce you to Lord Whitmore. He will be taking over now that he has returned. Please direct all questions to him. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I will leave you to get to know each other.”

Walking to the door, not bothering to look at either man, Ginny was relieved to be able to escape. As far as her imagination was concerned, the meeting was far less contentious than she would have thought it could be. Ginny had always imagined him coming home and being just as arrogant as before. She had never envisioned him apologizing. Heading to her room, Ginny figured she just needed a good cry to get it out of her system. Then she might be able to survive dinner with him. She could only hope.

“Mr. McCarthy, is it?” Colin would never refer to anyone by their first name. Except, of course, his wife, but never in front of anyone. She had referred to Clarendon by his first name and now, his steward. It showed a level of familiarity that made him wonder how many men Bethany had been intimate with.

“Aye, my lord. Sean McCarthy,” the Irishman stated and held out his hand. Colin shook his hand, then stood up and took his place behind the desk. Sean eyed him suspiciously. So, that is how the relationship will be, he concluded. I may find working with Lady Whitmore more satisfying.

“Could you please explain to me how you came to be here and what had transpired shortly after your arrival?”

“Certainly, my lord.” Sean began, not wanting to leave anything out. He thought back to when he first received the letter from Mr. Hamilton.

It was only a month after losing his position with Lord Warwick, who had died at the ripe old age of 68. Sean and his wife had been in residence for only three years, but it had been very gratifying. The former steward had retired and left everything in perfect order. It was easy to take over and keep things as they'd been. When the Earl passed, his nephew was in line to take the title. Unfortunately for the McCarthy's, the new Earl of Warwick had his own people he wished to use. Although adverse, the new Earl gave him several months notice, a glowing letter of recommendation and an extra two months pay after he was to leave the position. He and his wife did not need to vacate their home until the end of October, so Sean could bring the new man up to speed.

The letter came and Sean took the opportunity that presented itself. The new Earl, good to his word, paid for his traveling expenses instead of the severance and bid him good luck in his future endeavors. Sean's wife, Gladys, was ecstatic over the moving further south. Born and raised in Scotland, Gladys had always preferred more tepid climes than those she'd grown up in.

Off they went, not knowing more than the fact that the previous steward left unexpectedly and the Lord of the manor was traveling on business. They arrived a week later, with a cart filled with their belongings. The travel was hard, but they were both eager to start their new lives.

Their enthusiasm would soon be quashed. Arriving at the home, they were both surprised to see the new mistress waiting for them.

“Lady Whitmore, I presume. Tis a pleasure to meet you.” His accent, a mix of Irish and Scottish, was barely understandable. “May I introduce ya to my wife, Gladys.” Gladys McCarthy performed a perfect curtsy.

“Oh, Lady Whitmore. Thank you ever so much. Sean and I have been wanting to move south for the longest time. God must surely have been smiling for this opportunity to arise.” The woman was absolutely jolly. There was no other word.

“Don't be ridiculous. It is you who are doing me a great service. The last estate manager disappeared on me, so I fear Mr. McCarthy that you may be in for more work than you bargained for.” She looked somewhat reticent, knowing he was probably going to be putting in many long hours in the beginning.

“Dinna worry ya'self, my lady. I am no stranger to hard work.”

“Please take a look inside. You can freshen up and then I can show you around the office. Gladys, if you wish, Mrs. Johnson was the housekeeper for the last steward and is more than willing to continue. She has already made the house ready for your arrival.”

“I never had a housekeeper before. I usually take care of such things myself.”

“It is completely up to you. Please take a look around. When you're ready, Mr. McCarthy, I'll be in the office around back.”

With that, Lady Whitmore walked away, leaving the couple to inspect their new home.

“Gladys, go on and have a look. I will see if Lady Whitmore needs my help.”

Smiling at her husband, Gladys turned and entered the house. Walking around the house, following the same direction as his new mistress, he found the back garden and doorway to his new office. There, inside the door, he found Lady Whitmore, pouring over a ledger, with her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Lady Whitmore?”

“Oh, Mr. McCarthy. Really, you didn't need to join me so quickly.”

“Ya seem a little concerned, my lady. I dinna want you to deal with this anymore. That is what I am here for.” His smile was meant to soothe, but Ginny took it quite a different way.

“Mr. McCarthy.” Ginny stood up and walked around the desk. Settling her bottom on the edge, she crossed her arms and leveled her gaze at his. When she had his attention, she continued. “I believe you'll find me to be a very... hands on type of landowner. The last steward left without any notice, the same time my husband was called away on business. I find myself quite in the dark about how to run an estate and refuse to be caught unaware again. Which means, I will be most attentive and probably quite annoying to you for the first few months. If this seems unreasonable to you, I need to know now. I would hate to have you move in just to leave because you couldn't handle the relationship.”

Sean McCarthy had never had a woman speak to him so frankly, or with such authority. Certainly there were women who commanded their and everyone else's lives, but none that he had to chance to meet. Even his wife relinquished all major decisions to him. The latest being their move south for this new position.

“Aye, my lady. I would welcome yar input as well as the opportunity to school ya in the details of stewardship.”

Ginny eyed him suspiciously. Not knowing him, she couldn't be sure if she was being played. In the end, she would have to find out over the next few weeks. “Thank you, Mr. McCarthy. I appreciate that. Now, I was able to find a number of ledgers, but none from the past year. I assure you I've looked everywhere.”



“When did you find out that no one had been paid?” Colin asked immediately after McCarthy finished his story.

“It was within the week. Several merchants came to me to ask when they could expect their payments. I had them provide me with duplicate bills. Cross-checked those with your staff. Unfortunately, there were several who padded their bills thinking no one would be the wiser.”

“And those merchants?”

“Were dealt with appropriately. The bills were adjusted and their services are no longer employed by this house.”

“Very good. When did you find out about the money being missing.”

“Your wife and I journeyed to London to speak to your bankers and your man of business. That was when we discovered the missing funds. Or rather, that the funds had no' been deposited as they should have been.”

“And what is your relationship with Lady Whitmore?” Colin was trying to catch him off guard. It was obvious that there were feelings between them. His wife called him Sean, and, Colin had little doubt, he called her Bethany when they were alone. What he wanted to know was whether he should start searching for a new steward, since he would not allow his wife to fuck this one.

“I beg yar pardon, my lord?” Colin had to admit that the steward did appear confused, but anyone could pull off a performance when facing their lover's husband.

“Are you and my wife engaged in an affair?”

The question was asked so casually, that at first, Sean wasn't quite sure he'd heard it correctly. When it finally registered in his brain, he stood up and came to the desk, putting both hands down on the smooth wood and stared at his new employer in the face. Sean McCarthy was no stranger to hard, back breaking work. His years working his way up to steward had made him big and hard. There was one thing he would not proscribe and that was anyone questioning his honor.

Not wanting to go too far, but wanting his point made, he said, “My lord, I am a married man. I have no'

ever, nor would I ever, behave inappropriately with yar wife. I have too much respect for my wife to do that. Yar wife and I have worked closely together for a year now. She has my greatest respect. I am no' sure why ya would think such a thing, but I am sure it was no' from something Lady Whitmore said to ya.”

“No, it was not. I sensed a closeness between you and needed to know if it was anything I should worry about. I apologize for impugning your honor, sir.” Colin needed to rein in his feelings. They would lose him a good steward and drive a larger wedge between him and his wife.

Relaxing somewhat, McCarthy suggested, “Perhaps tomorrow we should take a ride around the estate. I can show ya the improvements that have been made recently.”

Standing up, holding out his hand to the man, Colin replied, “Thank you, Mr. McCarthy. I would appreciate that. Shall we say ten o'clock?”

Taking his hand and shaking it hard enough to let his master know that he had it in his power to pulverize him if necessary, he simply nodded. With that, McCarthy turned on his heel and left the room. As he left the house to return to his own, he still reeled over Lord Whitmore's question. As incredulous as he felt, he could easily see why the man had jumped to such a conclusion. Not knowing him personally, seeing the easy rapport he had developed with Lady Whitmore, Sean concluded that he probably would have jumped to the same conclusion. In the end, he hoped his statement had left his new master in no doubt.

Chapter 19

“My lady, shall I ready you for dinner?” Tabby walked into Ginny's chamber with obviously no clue that Whitmore had returned. She walked directly to the wardrobe and began to pull out the dress she intended her to wear that evening.

“I take it you were not in residence this afternoon?” Ginny said in a monotone, robotic voice.

“No, my lady. Remember that I had requested to have luncheon with Lyle?” Tabby sounded worried that she might be in trouble. Although since they had come to this house, Bethany had never had a cross word for her. Truth be told, they had become friends. True friends, revealing much to one another about their pasts, their feelings and their lives. On many occasions, the two would fall asleep talking together. To Tabby, it felt like having her sister back.

Ginny turned to the little maid, tears streaking down her cheeks, eyes red and puffy. “He's back,” was all she said.

“Who's back... oh!” Suddenly Tabby understood. “Lord Whitmore has returned?”

Bowing her head, wiping at her eyes with her hands, Ginny replied, “Yes.”

In a flash, Tabby was at her side, arm around her waist, moving her to her chaise lounge. Once seated, she kept her arm around her and gingerly placed Ginny's head on her shoulder. “I have seen you accomplish great things this past year, my lady. I know you can handle this as well.”

Laughing, Ginny replied, “I would gladly do it all over again rather than deal with him.”

“Really? I thought you might like a chance to torture him for a change.” Ginny was thankful for having Tabby. She might be her employee, but she had become the closest friend she had in 1803. Tabby could never replace Lisa, her 21st century friend, but she came pretty damn close.

“You're right. I just need to get control of myself.”

“I wish you were not having guests for dinner.”

“Guests? Damn, I forgot that Dr. and Mrs. Cummings were coming.” Bending her back, she put her head between her knees. “Crap! I like them too much to make a true spectacle of myself tonight.”

Tabby asked, “Do they know he abandoned you?”

“No. Only a very few people know about that. Dear God, why am I acting like this? Why can't I feel nothing like he did?”

“Because you are a good person, my lady.”

Looking up at her maid, she smiled to try to look reassuring. Ginny had spent the entire year hating him, justifying her behavior with Miles based on his behavior. In truth, she felt awful. Ginny had wanted to take her wedding vows seriously, if only to live out this plot line and move on. She knew that wasn't the whole truth. During the short period of time before the kiss, Ginny had grown to really like Colin. She had even thought that she could live a lifetime with him, falling in love and having his children. For the millionth time, she thought that maybe this was how it was supposed to be. They could work it out and move on. But she knew, because of her ability to hold a grudge, it would not be that easy. This may be make believe, but it was all too real to Ginny and she was not likely to just forget his going off to another country and screwing around with some whore.

“We had better get me ready, then. It will be quite a surprise to the Cummings' that Colin is home.”

“Indeed,” Tabby said with her mischievous smile.

Entering the yellow salon, Ginny was thankfully alone. The Cummings' would arrive shortly, but she wanted a few minutes to compose herself. Never one to hide her feelings, Ginny had to grow a thick skin and an implacable composure over the last year. Even Bethany's experience could not prepare her for the unbelievable cattiness of the ton. Ginny couldn't even remember high school being that bad, and these people were supposed to be adults.

Walking to the window and staring out at the fields beyond, Ginny took some deep breaths and practiced her new mantra: Who gives a shit! She used this when faced with the biting comments of women who were supposed to be mature, but usually spent their time trying to bring everyone down in the hopes of raising themselves up. There were a few occasions where Ginny had gotten the last word and made sure the women felt the power of her words.

Pearce entered a few moments later and announced the Cummings. Turning in time to see them enter, Ginny plastered a smile on her face and said, “Thank you for coming, Charles, Sarah.”

Sarah Cummings walked over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Is is true? We heard that Lord Whitmore has returned.”

“Yes, he appeared quite unexpectedly this afternoon.”

Dr. Cummings walked forward and bowed to her. “You should have sent word to us. We could have postponed our dinner so you and Lord Whitmore could have some time alone.”

“Charles, that is not necessary. Lord Whitmore and I will have plenty of time alone.”

“What is this about being alone?” The familiar voice came from the doorway. Colin stood in his formal attire, looking impossibly gorgeous. Ginny had forgotten how well he looked in his black coat and pants. All he needed was a top hat and cane and he would be the picture of debonair.

“Dear God, Lord Whitmore. It has been far too long,” Dr. Cummings said walking over and shaking the proffered hand.

“Indeed, Dr. Cummings. And Miss Jones, wasn't it?” Colin noticed the former governess standing next to his lovely wife.

“Actually, my lord, Miss Jones is now Mrs. Cummings.” Dr. Cummings practically beamed with pride.

“I am sorry, I had not heard. Congratulations on your marriage. I wish you all the felicity imaginable.”

“Thank you, Lord Whitmore,” Sarah said shyly. Keeping her gaze at the carpet, she added, “Your wife is responsible for bringing us together.”

Colin turned his stare to Ginny and smiled. “Is that correct? Playing the matchmaker, were you my dear? And quite successfully at that.”

“Hardly a matchmaker. It was obvious they would suit. I merely invited both to dinner and let nature take its course.” Feeling herself blush, Ginny stated, “Please have a seat. Would anyone care for some wine before dinner?”

“I will not let you be so modest, Lady Whitmore. If it were not for her interference, I would still be a lonely, old country doctor.”

“Well, my dear, if you were less obtuse, you may have seen what was right in front of your face.” Sarah smiled at her husband, enjoying his discomfort.

“Indeed, my love. You see, Lord Whitmore, although we are greatly suited, it took a slap to my head to make me realize.”

“You do mean that figuratively, do you not, Doctor?”

“No, I mean it quite literally. Shall I tell him the story, ladies?”

“Yes, dear, I would love to hear your version of it,” Sarah accepted a glass of wine from Ginny and sipped it tentatively.

Accepting his glass, taking a big sip, Dr. Cummings began his story from the beginning. Knowing that he was prone to hyperbole, he consciously kept a check on his wording, not to sound too grandiose. Since he was not present for the plans between the scheming Lady Whitmore and Miss Jones, he could only relay what he'd heard after the fact.

“Lady Whitmore. Now that your husband was taken away by business, I shall leave to my sister's home. I would not want to be a burden on you.”

“Ridiculous, Sarah. And please continue to call me Bethany. The title means nothing to me. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. Perhaps I should hire you as a companion. That way you can stay and not feel guilty about it.”

“I could not charge you for something I enjoy doing.”

“Blah, blah, blah. Don't be silly. Although it kind of makes me look pathetic that I have to pay for a friend.”

Ginny laughed. In actuality, a lady's companion was simply an employee that some old maid paid to be her whipping boy. There were some truly pathetic people whom she was supposed to associate with due to her rank.

“I am serious, Bethany. Seeing you married has made me long for it myself. Since it is not likely to happen, I wish not to be reminded. I will leave by the end of the week.” Turning from Ginny, Sarah left the room quickly and quietly. Ginny wanted to chase after her, convince her that all marriages weren't what they appeared to be, but she had decided to be silent about her situation. It would not do for rumors to get out and cause a scandal.

Ginny went to the study and pulled out a piece of paper. Writing in 1803 left a little something to be desired. First you needed a sharp quill, ink and paper that didn't even hold a candle to the crap they use in looseleaf notebooks. There are no lines, so if you're like Ginny, the writing goes up and down in odd curves across the page. If you use too much ink, it bleeds and if you use too little, it you risk punching holes in your paper. She made her note simple. Ginny invited Dr. Cummings to her home for dinner that evening. Having already decided they would suit, Ginny rushed to get the two together. Perhaps dinner and an evening of chitchat would be enough. If not, Ginny was prepared to be more bold. She would just have to wait and see if they got along.

Arriving on time, Dr. Cummings found Lady Whitmore in the drawing room, entertaining a beautiful, young lady. His smile was genuine as he bowed before Ginny, taking her hand and kissing it briefly.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady Whitmore. It is a pleasure to visit Wellesley Hall when no one is unwell.”

“Thank you, Doctor, for coming on such short notice. As you know, Lord Whitmore was forced to leave unexpectedly on business, so it is a great comfort to have such good friends around.” Ginny took great pride in sounding so ridiculous. “May I introduce Miss Jones. She is a good friend of mine, but unfortunately will be leaving my company soon.”

Turning to the mysterious woman, Dr. Cummings noticed that she was not as young as she appeared from across the room. Still she was stunning, with her wavy locks and her big, brown eyes. She exuded a confidence and grace that added to her appeal. Taking her hand and brushing a kiss across her fingers, he said, “It is a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Jones.”

Sarah sensed what Ginny was up to, but would never cause a scene. “The pleasure is mine, Doctor.”

Ginny saw how the doctor looked at Sarah and could only smile. “Would anyone care for some wine?”

Miss Jones was first to respond. “No, thank you, Lady Whitmore.” She sat down on the settee and tried to look placid. Inside, she was anything but. Though it was impossible, she couldn't help but notice how handsome the doctor was and how his face seemed almost alight by his good humor.

“Thank you, Lady Whitmore.” Dr. Cummings sat on the chair adjacent to Miss Jones. Ginny fetched the glass and handed it to her guest, then took a seat next to Sarah on the couch. When no one spoke, Ginny realized she would have to do most of the talking. “Dr. Cummings, how is the general health of the village?” Wow, good work, Ginny. Fascinating conversation, she thought while inwardly groaning.

“Well, to be sure. Mrs. Lambert gave birth to her fifth child and Mr. Mason suffers horribly from his gout, but other than that, it has been surprisingly quiet.”

“Good, good. May I ask what Mrs. Lambert had?”

“A girl. Her third girl to be precise. Easy delivery with everyone fine.”

“Sarah, didn't you tell me that your sister recently had a baby?”

Sarah looked at her as if she were crazy. “Yes, Lady Whitmore, she did.”

“And what did she have?” Ginny was trying valiantly to get Sarah to join the conversation, no matter how inane or convoluted it got.

“A girl. They named her Portia, after my sister's favorite Shakespearean character.”

“The Merchant of Venice. A great story to be sure. Very clever.” Dr. Cummings smiled at Sarah, hoping that she would also join the conversation.

“My sister enjoys the comedies. I am more partial to the tragedies myself.” Sarah was unpracticed at flirting, so she could only be honest. Finding that it seemed to work for Lady Whitmore, she was nonplussed.

“Really, Miss Jones. And which is your favorite?”

“King Lear. I believe I most identify with Cordelia.”

“Not prone to flattery, are you then, Miss Jones?”

“Not false flattery. If I believe someone is truly due, I would not hesitate to express it.”

Ginny could feel the electricity in the air. Nature was a wonderful thing when it was working properly. It was still strange to Ginny that people met and married after only a short acquaintance, but she could tell that in romance novel world, this was a good match.

As the two continued to stare, Pearce announced dinner was ready. Ginny stood quickly and began toward the door, hoping that Dr. Cummings would offer his arm to Sarah. And, she wasn't disappointed. The discussion during dinner led them down many paths, with Sarah keeping up her end of exchange. They discussed politics, women's rights, medicine and even the plight of children. There were few things that Sarah and Dr. Cummings disagreed on, but even in disunion, they seemed to hear out each other's arguments and even concede some points. All in all, it made Ginny miss her husband, despite his behavior. After dinner, they retired back to the drawing room, where Ginny was suddenly needed by a member of her staff. The doctor and Sarah were left alone, where they continued their debate. It didn't take long for Dr. Cummings to realize that this woman before him was well read, learned and well spoken. Sarah was taken by the doctor's ability to listen and accept a woman's opinion as easily as he would a any man's. By the time Ginny returned, she had no doubt there were sparks flying between the two. Silently congratulating herself, she asked, “If you are not busy tomorrow, Doctor, perhaps you would be so kind as to escort Miss Jones into town. I'm afraid I have much to keep me busy with my husband gone that I feel I am neglecting my guest.”

The look on Sarah's face was precious. A cross between wanting to strangle Ginny and hug her. A fine line since both can be achieved with one's arms.

“It would be my pleasure, Miss Jones, if you are amendable.”

“That would be lovely.”

“I should take my leave now. Shall we say eleven o'clock, Miss Jones. I apologize if that is too early. I have always been an early riser.”

“As am I, Doctor. Eleven would be fine.”

Standing to take his leave, the doctor bowed before Sarah, taking her hand and kissing the fingers. This time, he lingered and added more pressure than was proper. Ginny could see Sarah swallow at the touch. The doctor took his hostess's hand and bowed over it, barely touching his lips to her fingers.

“Good evening, ladies. Until tomorrow, Miss Jones.” With that, he left the drawing room. When she was sure he was out of earshot, Sarah quirked an eyebrow to Ginny. “Do you want to explain what that was about?”

Ginny gifted her with a big smile and answered, “You can't possibly be that obtuse.”

“Bethany, what are you doing? You must know it is not possible.”

“Why? You're a woman, he's a man, you're both wanting to marry and you seem to get along famously. So, please explain to me why it's not possible.”

“Why would he want to marry a former governess?”

Ginny's hands lifted to cover her eyes. After rubbing her eyes vigorously, she peered at Sarah over her fingers. “Look, Sarah. I don't always get who can marry who or even why someone can't marry someone else. Quite frankly, if you like him and you know you will be able to take care of one another, who the hell cares that he's a doctor and you are a former lady turned governess. Geez!”

“It isn't so simple...” before she could finish her sentence, Ginny interrupted.

“Who is going to talk? Do you think you'll bring him down, or that he'll bring you down?”

Sarah, who now looked close to tears, simply bowed her head. Ginny felt bad. She certainly didn't mean to sound so snippy, but it really got under her skin that Sarah wouldn't take control of her life, demand what she wanted and follow through with it.

It was suddenly very clear to Ginny how she had no room to talk. When Colin left her room on her wedding night, she didn't run after him. She didn't confront his bad behavior and make him take responsibility for his actions. She may have even let him go, for a few months, so he could still get to enjoy his holiday. No, instead she remained quiet, avoided the confrontation and allowed him to leave her behind.

“I'm sorry, Sarah. I have no right to interfere. I want only for you to be happy. You've been dealt a rotten hand and I figured that you and the doctor would make a nice couple. I won't interfere any longer.” Ginny turned and left the room, quickly ascending the staircase and hiding in her room. No sooner had she closed the door did the tears come. Recognizing her own weakness, Ginny mourned the loss of her hubris. How not only in this new life, but in Scotland as well, she thought she was so much better than those around her. She had all this future knowledge, didn't depend on superstition, but was confident and educated. She would never allow any man to subjugate her. And yet, as she stood alone in her room, she knew beyond a doubt, she had done just that.

The following day, the doctor made good on his promise and picked Sarah up promptly at eleven o'clock. Sarah was happy that their easy rapport continued, despite her objections that a marriage was impossible. They conversed about many different topics, mostly about their favorite authors and novels.

“Would you permit me to take you to tea at the local inn. The innkeeper's wife makes the most amazing Amaretto tea cakes. I cannot in good conscience allow you to leave this village without a taste.”

Smiling and trying not to be shy, she replied, “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Dr. Cummings.”

“Would it be terribly forward of me to have you call me Charles?”

Sarah knew she should refuse. It was a liberty that a woman of her station, even despite her poverty, should never allow. And she would have done just that, except her mouth betrayed her. “I should like that very much, Charles. I would be pleased if you call me Sarah.”

Turning his deep blue eyes toward her, he smiled. “Thank you, Sarah. I feel as if I've known you for so long now. I can hardly believe we only met yesterday.”

“You are very easy to talk to, and very knowledgeable.” Sarah inwardly groaned. She was nervous and it was making her sound like a ninny.

“As are you. Lady Whitmore mentioned that you plan to leave soon. May I ask how soon?”

“I had planned to leave by the end of the week.” Sarah, feeling tears entering her eyes, looked away toward the passing trees.

“Is there any way you might be able to delay your departure?” Charles hated to sound desperate, but couldn't seem to hide his feelings.

“I am afraid not. My sister is expecting me.”

“Oh,” was his only reply. They rode in silence for a few minutes, each in their own contemplation. Charles, figuring she didn't feel the same way, decided that it didn't have to ruin their pleasant drive together. So he began their conversation again, this time choosing the topic of healthcare, one which he was intimately familiar.

When he returned her to Wellesley Hall, he descended the carriage and came around to personally assist her down. Holding her hand to steady her, Charles felt old and nearly forgotten stirrings inside himself. He had loved his wife and never imagined he would ever find someone who could replace her, but suddenly this woman was creeping into his heart, when no other woman had managed to. But, she was leaving very shortly.

Walking her up the stairs, Ginny opened the door to greet them. “Dr. Cummings, Miss Jones, please come in.”

“I should be going, Lady Whitmore, but thank you for the invitation.”

“Dr. Cummings, please come in and take some refreshment. I'm sure the drive was dusty and you must be thirsty.” Ginny figured that although she couldn't manage her own life that well, she could at least manage the lives of others. It was the perfect distraction from thinking about herself.

“Very well.”

Sarah, who didn't want to get caught up in her friend's machinations, simply said, “If you both will excuse me, I need to freshen up.” Ginny learned that was code for “go to the can.”

“Of course, Sarah. Please join us when you can. We'll be in the Yellow Salon.”

Offering his arm, Ginny and Dr. Cummings walked to the back of the house. Ginny ordered lemonade from the footman. She sat down on one of the armchairs, leaving the settee open for both the doctor and Sarah to sit on. “Please, Doctor, have a seat.”

“I really should be going, Lady Whitmore. I have ignored my duties all afternoon.”

“Do you like her, Doctor?” Desperate times called for bold measures. Neither seemed inclined to make a move, so Ginny needed to push it.

“I beg your pardon?” Charles was nearly knocked over by her cheekiness. He had met many women who enjoyed interfering in his life, but never had any been so audacious.

“Do you like Sarah? I know I shouldn't be asking, but she plans to leave so if you are going to make a move, now is the time.”

Finally taking the seat Ginny offered, Charles considered her statement. “Lady Whitmore, Sarah is inclined to leave by the end of the week. I do not see what I can do to change that.”

Standing up, Ginny walked behind the settee where Charles sat, and using the fan she was forced to carry, she smacked him in the head. “Dr. Cummings, do you like being happy? I see how you look at her and I see how she looks at you. Dear God, take control. If you want her, tell her. Make her see that you can make her happy. Reject all her objections and be bold.”

Rubbing his head, Charles turned and looked at Ginny. He should have been angry, but instead, he was incredibly thankful. “You are quite right, Lady Whitmore.”

“And stop calling me that. My name is Bethany and I should very much like you to use it.”

Smiling despite her irritated tone, he nodded. “Thank you, Bethany. Do you think you might give me some time alone with Miss Jones?”

“Duh.” Was all she said. The footman returned with a tray of lemonade at the same time Miss Jones returned from the bathroom. Serving the drinks, the footman retreated out the door and it gave Ginny an idea. “Oh, my, I forgot I needed to talk to Mrs. Simmons about something. If you two will excuse me, I need to take care of that.”

Without looking back, Ginny hightailed it out of the room and closed the door behind her. Smiling at her plan, she figured she should leave them alone for at least a half hour to work things out. Ginny had little doubt that by the end of the thirty minutes, Miss Sarah Jones would be the happiest woman in the world.

“Some lemonade, Sarah?” Charles stood, glass in hand, ready to serve her.

“Thank you, Charles.” Sarah had thought about not joining Bethany and Charles. After all, she knew Bethany would only meddle again. After a time, she felt sorry for Charles, who was likely having to listen to their hostess pry into his life.

Charles waited for Sarah to take a seat, then took the seat across from her. Neither said a word. Sarah was trying to determine how long she had to stay to be polite and Charles was considering every approach he could use to get her to become his wife. After a short time, it became uncomfortable. Sick of being passive, pulling from his esteemed hostess' advice, Charles decided to be bold. “May I ask why you have not yet married?”

Whipping her head to look directly in his eyes, she muttered, “I do not see how that is any of your concern, Doctor.”

“I only asked because I wish to court you and eventually have you as my wife.”

Sarah's mouth gaped opened like a fish. “Sir, that is highly inappropriate.”

The doctor quirked his eyebrow and smiled. “Why? I was only being honest.”

“I am a governess. Surely you would not wish to marry me.”

Taking her hands in his, holding on when she tried to pull away, Charles pleaded his case. “You are the most intelligent, caring, sweet and beautiful woman I have met in a long time. Despite your unfortunate occupation, why would I not want to marry you?”

“I have nothing to offer. No dowry awaits you if you choose to marry me.”

“I do not need your money, Sarah. I am not wealthy, but I live comfortably. I can more than take care of you and any children.”

“Children?” she gasped.

Charles realized his mistake. It was one thing to be bold, it was another to be stupid. “Not right away, if you wish to wait.”

“I am thirty years old, Charles. Surely too old to start having children.”

“As a doctor, I can tell you that it is not too old to have children. I have assisted in delivering many women over thirty.” Charles seemed pleased that he could offer comfort from his knowledge.

“That is not the point. Did Bethany put you up to this? I am more than capable of taking care of myself. I do not need or desire your charity!” Sarah's face was red with her indignation. How dare they plot behind my back. I am not a child, she thought petulantly.

Charles sat next to her on the settee. He grabbed her face with both his hands and forced her to look at him.

“I am not asking you to marry me on a whim and I am certainly not asking you at the suggestion of someone else. Although I am quite certain our hostess arranged for us to be together because she was certain we would suit, she has nothing to do with my declaration. I want you, Sarah. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” With that, he bent down and kissed her. He continued to kiss her past her protestations and he continued when she finally relented and began to respond. Before long, she was kissing him back with as much fervor as he showed.

When he finally pulled away, he saw the satisfied look on her face and smiled. “Well?” was all he asked. Letting out a sigh, she nodded and said, “Yes, Charles. I will marry you.”

“Thank you. I believe you've made me the happiest man in England.”

“Only England?” she replied with a silly smile on her face.

“Very well, then. The entire world!”

Just as Charles bent his head to kiss her again, Ginny walked into the room. The couple pulled away and stared at her as she entered the room.

“Well, I'm glad that was taken care of. Now, do you either of you have any interesting news to tell me.”

“It seems my wife has a good eye for matchmaking,” Colin replied at the end of the story. More than the story, he was captivated how each person contributed, adding their own tidbits to enhance the tale. Bethany had made good friends with Dr. and Mrs. Cummings. He noted how she called them both by their given names. He realized that she took that liberty with just about anybody.

“You'd have to be blind not to see their compatibility.” Ginny didn't want compliments. She wanted only to survive the evening.

“Lady Whitmore, I believe Sarah has some good news for you.”

“Charles!” Sarah stared at her husband, not wanting to bring it up. She wondered if it would hurt her friend to know that she was pregnant. Sarah understood the loneliness Bethany had been feeling this past year while her husband had been away.

“Good news? I am always in want of good news.”

Reluctantly, Sarah looked at her friend. “Charles and I are expecting.” Her statement was nearly whispered, afraid to hurt her friend's feelings.

Ginny's hands flew to her mouth and exclaimed, “That is tremendous news. I am so happy for you both. When is the baby due?”

Charles, who couldn't refrain any longer, said, “Mid-April, as far as we can figure.”

Ginny stood up and walked to her friend. Grabbing both hands in hers, with a glistening of her eyes, she said,

“That is wonderful. A spring baby. You shall have to come up with a clever name to mark the occasion.”

“One thing at a time, Bethany.”

Pearce entered and announced dinner. Dr. Cummings took his wife's arm and escorted her out of the room. Colin stood and held out his arm to his wife. Ginny took it begrudgingly, not wanting to make a scene. Walking slightly behind the other couple, he said in a hushed tone, “That was very kind of you to bring them together.”

“I needed someone to be happy.” As the words left her lips, Ginny realized how catty they were. She spent the better part of the afternoon trying to figure out how she was going to get past this. Was she going to spend the rest of her life throwing his behavior back into his face?

Colin could not respond. He was fairly certain that making up to his wife was going to be infinitely harder than he first imagined. Not that he ever expected her to just forgive him. He just hadn't realized that his honest wife would be so passive-aggressive. He had expected, and was willing to bear, the screaming and yelling. This side of her was new to him. A lot had happened in one year to change his wife, and not for the better.

Dinner was subdued, although Ginny did try to appear cheerful. She was happy for Charles and Sarah. They had been trying to conceive since their wedding night. Fortunately, Dr. Cummings took it as a sign that the recently reunited couple wanted to be alone. So as soon as could be done politely, he and his wife took their leave.

Ginny walked them to the door, with Colin close behind. “Good night, Charles, Sarah. Congratulations again. Please let me know if I can help.”

After the door closed, Ginny turned and began to walk up the stairs. She didn't acknowledge her husband, couldn't acknowledge him. Every fiber of her being screamed for her to get away from him. She wanted to yell and scream, but wouldn't do it in front of the staff. Despite the past year, despite her own behavior, she had too much pride for that.

“Will you not join me for a drink, Bethany?”

Without looking over her shoulder, she replied, “No.” Ginny kept walking up the steps until she was safely in her bedroom. After ringing for Tabby, she began to take off her jewelry. There was an empty feeling in her stomach. As much as she wanted to move on, she couldn't fake her feelings after what had happened. After not speaking up to his treatment on their wedding night, she could hardly just let it go now. Tabby entered the room and went about preparing Ginny for bed. Hot water was left in her pitcher and Ginny went about her nightly routine on automatic pilot. Undress, wash up, hair brushed, get dressed in her nightgown. Nothing was registering, like getting lost in your thoughts while driving and finding yourself at your destination with no conscious memory of it.

Tabby remained quiet as well. Over the past year, she had come to recognize Ginny's moods. Depending on the mood, Tabby knew how to react. Some, like this one, told her to keep quiet and leave Ginny be. So, when the routine was complete, she said goodnight, picked up Ginny's dirty clothing and left through her dressing room.

Ginny was grateful. There was nothing to talk about, nothing to work out. She just needed some time to get used to the fact that Colin was home. The least he could have done was send a letter, let her prepare. But no, he decided that surprise was his best option.

In a fog, Ginny stared out her bedroom window at the gardens. When she'd had to let half the staff go, including many of the gardeners, Ginny had taken up horticulture. In her own time, she possessed two black thumbs, opting to not even keep houseplants over the cruel treatment she inflicted on them. She wouldn't have a pet, afraid of coming home one day and finding it dead from neglect. But now, she knew most of what was needed to care for a large garden. She weeded and raked, planted and watered. When they had money to spend again, she took over a small plot and made it her own, planting colorful flowers. It was just one source of pride for her during the past year. Crossing her arms on her belly and hugging tightly, she thought of the one thing in which she took no pride. At no other time did she feel the acute effects of having broken her wedding vows, however, with her husband's unexpected return, she felt it keenly. Ginny spent the better part of the past year justifying it. Seeing her husband again showed her that no amount of justification could relieve her guilt. What she did was wrong and so out of character for her, it was like a physical pain throughout her body.

Miles was a great friend, but she hated how the relationship had evolved. What could she have been thinking, other than wanting to do something to hurt Colin. Ginny was not such a prude that the sex was an issue. What pained her most was the emotional connection she'd forged with Miles. How she had sensed that Miles may have been falling in love with her, but couldn't let him go. Miles had become like a drug for her, a testament that she was worthy of male attention, even if her husband wouldn't acknowledge it. Her only consolation was that it never came to fruition. That their one night together ended before she could follow through with an action that couldn't be taken back. Not that she hadn't already been unfaithful before that point. At least she could say she'd never slept with him. For whatever that was worth, she would take it and covet it.

A small knock at her dressing room door brought her out of her reverie. Without turning around, she called,

“Come in, Tabby.”

“It is not Tabby.”

Closing her eyes, hoping to make the voice go away, Ginny knew that the confrontation could not be put off forever, but was in no mood for it now. So, she steeled herself up and turned around to face her husband, if one could call him that.

“What do you want, Colin?” Ginny hoped by having her arms still crossed, he might take it as her unwillingness to open up to him. She didn't think the study of body language was all too popular in this time period.

“We have yet to talk to each other.” Colin stood just inside doorway, too intimidated to venture further.

“Can't it wait until tomorrow? It has been a long day, with many surprises. I don't have the energy for this right now.”

“I need to know about you and Clarendon.”

Before he could elaborate, Ginny cut him off. “You need to know? Did I get that right? You... need... to know? Well, maybe we can have a chat about your extra-marital activities across the bloody Continent.”

“There is no reason to speak to me in that tone, Bethany.”

“Don't you dare speak to me as if I was your child. You have no power over me, Colin. If it weren't for me, you'd have nothing. Maybe you should remember that.” Ginny's voice was menacing. It occurred to her that this was exactly what she wanted to avoid, a screaming match with her husband.

“I do not wish to discuss your responsibilities as my wife. I wish to know if you are in love with Clarendon. Can you at least answer me that?” Colin knew he didn't deserve any information, but since finding out about their affair, he felt a desperate need to know. He needed to know if he had lost his wife's heart to his friend, with no chance for reconciliation between them.

Staring at her husband, breathing rapidly, Ginny didn't know how to answer his question. No, she wasn't in love with Miles, but she wasn't sure she wanted her husband to know that. The idea of having him squirm was enticing. On the other hand, Ginny was not skilled in playing games. After the guilt she felt over the affair in the first place, lying seemed beneath her.

“No, I am not in love with Miles. He is a good friend, who was there for me when others weren't.”

Colin kept his anger in check. He was getting used to Bethany's ability to turn any answer into an accusation against him. God knew he deserved most of it, but how could they ever get beyond the past if she wouldn't just get it out. How much anger was his wife holding onto?

Turning his eyes to the floor, he responded, “That is good.”

“Good for what, Colin? It is hardly our biggest hurdle.”

“I just thought that it would be easier to live together and...”

Colin didn't finish his sentence, but Ginny had a pretty good idea of where the “and” was going.

“And what? Produce an heir? Is that what you were going to say?” Ginny did not relish the idea of sleeping with Colin. Not with the pain and guilt that hung between them. Although she knew that she couldn't continue in limbo either.

Raising his eyes back to hers, his face the picture of stone, he replied, “It is our duty, Bethany.”

“Perhaps, but I don't think now is the time, do you?”

“Perhaps not. May we speak in the morning?” Although his expression had not changed, Colin's eyes took on an almost desperate quality. The pain he'd been feeling since discovering his wife's infidelity with his good friend had been excruciating. The little reassurance Bethany gave him may allow him to get at least some sleep that night.

Having never once taken her eyes off his, Ginny suddenly looked away. The confrontation was inevitable, but she would put it off as long as she could. “Of course.”

“Until breakfast, then.” Colin left the room through the same door he had entered, leaving Ginny glued to her spot.

Ginny continued to hug herself, trying to hold back the pain. What should have been fun and consequence free was really a burden, much like real life. She had liked Colin once, enjoyed his companionship. Was it possible to get that back? Before, Ginny had always thought women who took back their cheating men were stupid. And maybe in some ways they were, but with few choices, Ginny would have to find some ground where she could live with her husband, fulfill her duties and hopefully get home. The hopelessness was weighing her down, like a stone around her neck. Ginny did the only thing she could to escape. She climbed into bed and went to sleep. Everything could wait until the morning.

Chapter 20

The next morning, Colin entered the breakfast room in anticipation of seeing his wife. He realized that if they were to move on, he needed to get Bethany to lash out. She may never fully forgive him, but she needed to come to terms with their situation. The sooner, the better he hoped.

After another sleepless night, Colin had arrived later to breakfast than usual. There, on the table, were his wife's dishes, not yet cleared. He wondered if she had gotten up even earlier to avoid him. Just as he took his usual spot at the head of the table, Pearce appeared from the corner door.

“My lord. Would you like your usual breakfast?” Pearce was very good at giving nothing away.

“Yes, please... No, wait, Pearce.” Colin loathed the idea of letting his wife get away. “Where is Lady Whitmore?”

“She mentioned attending her garden this morning, my lord.”

“Her garden?” Colin was willing to share, but that was a bit ridiculous. Without a hint that he understood Colin's inflection of the word “her,” Pearce continued, “Yes, my lord. Lady Whitmore has taken a small plot of land in the back of the garden and planted her own flowers.”

“Oh, I see.” Every minute, it seemed, Colin faced another fact about his wife that he didn't know before.

“Where exactly is Lady Whitmore's garden?”

“Behind the maze, to the east, my lord. Now, shall I get your breakfast?”

“No, it can wait. Thank you, Pearce. Please have my horse prepared. I am meeting Mr. McCarthy this morning.”

Pearce bowed and left to due his master's bidding. Colin rose from the table and walked outside. Making his way through the garden, he saw how well it had been maintained. After finding out about the financial difficulties, he went through many of the household ledgers himself, discovering what he needed to know without having to ask his wife. He found out that she let go half the staff, closed down half the house. Bethany was never able to entertain large numbers of guests, only her parents and his mother and sister. He found out that she had made shrewd investments, nearly tripling his money in less than a year. He wondered if he would have handled things as efficiently as his wife. Not that it mattered. The past could not be undone and he was on his way to duke it out with his wife.

Colin came around the maze and saw the small, fenced in garden that Pearce spoke about. The flowers were every color in the rainbow, growing in seemingly wild abandon. But once he really looked at the design, he could see the logic behind the placement. Again, his wife surprised him. Looking around, Colin saw only a small gardener working in one of the beds. Judging by his size, Colin surmised the gardener was only a boy. His large hat obscured his face, but the lack of muscles and the skinny arms were dead giveaways.

“You there, boy. Can you please tell me where Lady Whitmore is?”

The boy turned slowly and sat back on his haunches. Looking up, under the brim of a wide hat, Colin was startled at the sight of his wife. She wore breeches and a loose white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Bethany had on old gardening gloves and small, brown boots. Despite her appearance, or maybe because of it, Colin felt the same powerful urges he had before their ill-fated kiss.

Bethany stood up, took off her gloves and let them fall to the ground. She then brushed her hands against the brown breeches and walked over to him. “Shut your mouth, Colin. You'll collect flies.”

Struck temporarily speechless, Colin finally found his voice. “Why are you dressed like a man?” His tone was of awe, not at all accusatory. It was because of that, that Ginny didn't take offense.

“I couldn't very well tend a garden in a muslin dress. This is more practical. And, to be honest, very liberating.”

“Indeed. You allow the staff to see you like this?” His tone was still not accusatory.

“Yes. Why would they care how I dress, as long as I am clothed?” Ginny felt herself loosening up slightly, enjoying her husband's discomfort.

“Yes, indeed. I do not believe I have ever seen a lady dressed in... in... breeches.”

At that, Ginny laughed. It had been a long time since Colin heard that magical sound. Unfortunately, it would not last. “Is there something you needed, Colin? Or do you plan to stare at my scandalous attire all day.”

“I wanted to talk to you now.” Colin tried to keep his tone light, but even he cringed at how his voice sounded. He knew he needed to get her yelling at him, but wanted to do it reasonably, if possible. He could see her entire body stiffen. She walked past him, back toward the house. Colin meant to stop her when he noticed that she looked around the maze. When satisfied with what she saw, she turned back to him with fire in her eyes. “Who, the hell, do you think you are?”

This was it. He just needed to keep stoking the fire. “I am your husband, Bethany.”

“Really.” Ginny knew it was time to have it out with her husband. None of the servants would be able to hear them out here. She knew most of the gardeners would be trimming the lawn in the front today. This was the perfect opportunity to scream at him to her heart's content and not deal with the servant gossip. “I guess we have a different definition of husband, then.”

“Not at all. We are married, until death do us part, Bethany.”

“Which gives you the choice of sticking around or not. You can take a mistress as long as I'm willing to allow you the liberty of producing an heir. You can spend whatever money you want, while I get to live off your good graces.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Ginny bowed her head. She couldn't change the reality of the time period, but she didn't need it shoved in her face. “I hate you, Colin Whitmore. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for tricking me into marriage. But more than that, I hate myself for allowing it. Instead of going after you on our wedding night, I went to bed. I let you treat me like a piece of trash and then I got to pay for it for an entire year. While you had loads of fun visiting cities I can only dream about, I got to clean up an ugly mess, cover up your abandonment, listen to people praise you on high, while turning around and gossiping about me behind my back.”

Ginny was only getting started. She had so much anger and pain to get out, she could only stop to take a breath. “I had to tell a household of people in London that they would have to work for someone else because I couldn't afford to pay their salaries. I had to let go half your staff here. Thank God Miles bought a home only ten miles away. He took everyone I let go so they wouldn't have to suffer without work. I toiled in this garden, along with the only two gardeners I could still afford, trying our best to keep the garden beautiful. And why? So you could fuck half the whores of France and Italy in your childish attempt at punishing me for one mistake. I would have told you no. I would have gone home and maybe found a nice man to settle down with. But instead, I got a year of sitting around waiting for you.”

“I would not say you were just 'sitting around,' Bethany. You did apparently have your entertainments as well.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Oh, yes, my affair with your friend. The worst we ever did was kiss, Colin. Miles never once visited my bed, so don't even think of throwing that in my face. Can you say the same thing? Did you never screw Desiree, was it? And Marguerite. Or, how about Brigitte? I can hardly remember the names that the man who was sent to find you came back with. I wonder that even you could remember.”

“They meant nothing to me...”

“Shut the hell up, Colin! Don't you realize that only makes it worse. Your willing to stick your dick in anything female because somehow I will learn my lesson here. You disgust me! You, and many men like you, think you have some free reign to act like adolescents. You care nothing of anyone but yourselves. Did my feelings ever once come into your mind? Did you ever once consider how your behavior might have been stabbing me in the heart? Do you even care now or are you just worried that you'll have to rape me to get your goddamn heir?”

Colin's eyes were as wide as saucers. He was stunned at his wife's language, wondering what sort of filth she associated with during his absence. Colin even briefly considered some of the parties he'd heard about, wild orgies and debauchery. Keeping himself in check, knowing this was exactly what he wanted, he could only state the obvious. “Our marriage would have ruined my plans. I have been taking care of others since I graduated university...”

“Wah, wah, wah. Go cry to someone else, Colin. Life isn't fair, but if you had taken just a moment to talk to me, you might have found out some interesting things. For instance, I would have let you go, as long as you didn't betray our vows. Or I would have gone with you. I would have loved to go with you as a matter of fact. I owned up to my mistake, Colin. I never wanted to ruin your life and would have done anything to prevent it. Your ruined life was your own making and until you own up to that, we have nothing further to discuss. Lord and Lady Hammersfield will be vacating your townhouse by the end of August. It will be made ready for the season. I strongly suggest you go there and attend and make up whatever bullshit excuses you have to your friends for your untimely disappearance. Find a mistress and enjoy. You will find no such comfort here with me.” Ginny walked away as fast as she could. Praying that he would not follow her, she felt her heart pounding, her hands shaking and sweat pouring down her brow. In her life here or in Scotland or in Arizona, she had never once lost her control so badly. Thinking back at her words, she was ashamed at her lack of discipline. How many times had she practiced her speech for his return? How had she lost all the words she wanted to say, the ability to sound superior? Instead, she lashed out at him like a junkyard dog. Before she could get past the edge of the maze, she heard him call out. His words stopped her in her tracks.

“Bethany, I am nothing short of amazed by what you accomplished this past year. I can only thank you for all you did for our home, our lives. You are, by far, the most extraordinary woman I have ever met.”

Ginny wanted to respond with something biting, horrifying. Instead, she stood still, back still turned, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. Her arms crossed over her chest and she felt herself shaking. Colin silently walked up behind her. He wouldn't touch her, but wanted so much to do just that.

“You are right. I do need to take responsibility for my own callous actions. I was a cad and I treated you abominably. You are absolutely right about the women. They were meant to hurt you, but in the end, they hurt me as well. I have been consumed with guilt and remorse for months now. I wanted to come home, but I wasn't brave enough. I have no right to ask anything, but I hope that somehow, we can live together. When you are ready, if you are ever ready, I will be waiting.” Colin turned and walked in the opposite direction, needing some space and time. Her words had cut deeply, but nothing compared to what he inflicted on himself. He would need time to consider his options.

Ginny waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps. Then she dropped to her knees and cried into her hands. Could it be different? Could she forgive him? The answers were probably yes, but it still left one gaping question: Could she ever forgive herself?

Chapter 21

Instead of going back to the house, Ginny went to the one place she found solace. She sat in the wooden chair, in the ivy covered gazebo near the lake. Staring across the glistening water, breathing in the familiar smell of stagnant water, listening to the chirping crickets, Ginny was forced to face her biggest challenge. Forgiving her husband for his abandonment was nothing compared to forgiving herself for her cowardice. It's never easy to forgive, but Ginny appreciated that in the end, it would benefit her to do so. Holding onto her anger would only hurt her, since her husband would undoubtedly move on without her. She didn't relish the idea of becoming a bitter, old woman, as she'd seen too many times before. On the other hand, Ginny didn't want to become the naive woman who would take back her cheating man because he said he was sorry. If he had thought so little of his vows a year ago, what made her think he thought much about them now. She knew too many women who had fallen into that trap as well. Drawing her legs up on the chair and wrapping her arms around them, Ginny considered her grim situation. The ducks were gliding across the water, occasionally diving under for a snack. Their one swan, a mean son of a bitch she'd named Bubba, was squawking at the other inhabitants of the lake. He always made her smile, mostly because he didn't give a damn about anyone else.

As she watched Bubba bully the ducks, a thought occurred to her. Were they actually married? Yes, they had exchanged vows and consummated their relationship, but they had lived together for only one day before he left. They hadn't lived as man and wife and had only known each other a few weeks before they did that. Was it possible that they could start over? Forget the past, forgive each other's weaknesses and begin again. Ginny's eyes darted around her surroundings, trying to think of any reason why it shouldn't work. She could be stronger this time and not put up with demeaning treatment. He could be different because he had his time alone and had no more excuses to act like a teenager in heat.

How would she go about it? Should she just sit him down and tell him her plan? Of course she should, but being female nearly precluded that possibility. Good job, Ginny, you want to make a fresh start, remember? She would discuss it with him at dinner. There would have to be courting, wooing. There should be flowers and long walks and inappropriate conversations. If it was going to work, they would have to start over, as if they were meeting for the first time. Everything over the past year would be forgotten and never brought up again. No more passive-aggressiveness, only two people who are compatible seeing if they are suited enough to be married.

And if they aren't? Well, Ginny thought, one step a time. Ginny stood up and went to the house. She would talk with Tabby and get her opinion. If Tabby thought it was crazy, it probably was. The girl had a good head on her shoulders and was always there to comfort her. Ginny felt stronger, more confident. She finally had a plan. It didn't matter if it ultimately worked, she knew that it was high time forgive herself and move on, hopefully home.

Colin stood in the drawing room, pacing back and forth, waiting for his wife to arrive. Their discussion that morning had changed things between them. He just wasn't sure if they had changed for the better. Bethany had managed to avoid him all day, not that he was looking for her. He was constantly thinking about what he could do to change things. Women had notoriously long memories, so he was at a loss. So lost in his thoughts, he never heard her enter the room. His wife had even managed to pour herself a drink before he noticed her. Colin watched her as she crossed the room, glass of sherry in hand. She sat down on one of the settees and sipped her drink. His breath caught in his throat. She was a vision in the light blue silk dress. Her hair, cut short, bobbed and swayed with her movement. He recognized the diamond jewelry as the pieces he'd left her on their wedding night.

“Good evening, Bethany.” Colin was amazed he'd managed the words.

“Good evening to you, Colin. Won't you have a seat?” Bethany pointed to the chair directly across from her own. “Before you sit down, perhaps you should get yourself a drink.”

Ginny was very careful not to give anything away. Her face was a total blank. Although she hoped they could reconcile, she still felt the need to make him squirm just a bit.

“No, thank you. I am fine.” Colin was almost afraid she'd poisoned the wine, she was so calm and docile. Her manner only made him worry more.

Once seated, Ginny stared into her husband's eyes. Her proposal could be taken well, or he could ignore it. Either way, she would know she'd done all she could for this marriage. If he chose to ignore her suggestion, she would move back to her mother's home, an offer her mother had made on several occasions.

“Colin, I have a proposition for you.” Continuing to stare, trying to gauge his reaction, Ginny could tell he was scared. She felt herself smile slightly at the thought.

Seeing her smile only made Colin more nervous. “I am listening.”

“For all intents and purposes, you and I can hardly claim a marriage. We said our vows, which we both subsequently ignored. We consummated our relationship, although we need not get into the disaster that was. We have lived very separate lives for the past year. Would you agree with that assessment?”

“Yes, but...”

“A simple yes will do for now, Colin. The reasons are immaterial. Our marriage is non-existent and that is the central issue. So, how do we begin to recognize it again?” Ginny waited only a moment, knowing that Colin would probably have nothing to say to that. “I believe the only way we can move on is to start over.”

His eyebrow shot up and looked at her with a puzzled expression. “How do you mean to do that, Bethany.”

“I mean that from this day forward, anything that happened between us, from the kiss in the garden on, is forgotten. Neither of us will ever bring it up again. It will be as if it happened to two other people. From tonight on, we are not even married.”

“Bethany, a divorce is not possible...”

“I'm not talking about getting a divorce, Colin. Obviously, in the eyes of the church, we are very much married. However, if we want to make a life together, we need to start over. That means you will need to court me. Remind me of all the things I once liked about you. I shall go back and be the woman you met at your house party. We shall have meals together and you shall woo me. What do you think of that?”

Colin stared incredulously for a moment. Did he hear her correctly? Did she expect him to treat her as if they were never married. His expression must have betrayed his doubts, because his wife stood up and walked to the window. He didn't want to foul up his only chance. She had given him a gift and he should accept it with open arms.

Standing up, he walked behind her. Staring out the same window, he suggested, “You really should consider keeping your conversations to the weather, Miss Hamilton. I will not abide a scandal at my home.”

Turning to look up at his face, displaying a gentle smile, she responded, “I would never want to cause a scandal in your home, my lord. Perhaps we could keep our 'inappropriate topics' only to ourselves.”

Turning his head slightly, he gave her a sideways glance. “Indeed. I would not want anyone to think there is anything untoward going on between us.”

Before she could respond, Pearce entered the drawing room to announce dinner. Colin turned and offered his wife his arm. And, for the first time since his arrival home, she took it without reservation. After a pleasant dinner, Colin and Ginny took a stroll around the gardens. The air was cool and the sky was clear. Ginny stared into the night sky, admiring the sight of so many stars not marred by too much ground light. Colin walked away, lighting his cigar and viewing some of his prized rosebushes.

“What are your plans for tomorrow, Bethany?” Colin watched his wife as she wandered the garden. Her dress swayed with her hips. All in all, the picture was erotic. He would need to woo her and quickly, as he could feel himself getting hard just by watching her walk.

“Normally, I would spend the day with Sean, discussing some of the improvements that still need to be completed or if there were any issues with the tenants. Did you make plans with him to do that?” Ginny didn't want to bring up the past, but some things would still have to be ironed out.

“Actually, we rode the estate this morning. I was impressed by some of the improvements you made for the tenants. Mr. McCarthy tells me that it has made everyone more profits over the last growing season.”

“I'm glad he took you out. Did he show you the school?” One of Ginny's greatest accomplishments was a school for all the children in the parish. They only attended in the winter, when there was no work to be done on the farms, but they were learning how to read and write.

“He did. Where do you get the teacher from?” Colin had wondered.

“Mr. Stevens former housekeeper, Mrs. Johnson, teaches the children. Turns out, she was a governess before she met her husband and settled down in Headley. Since Gladys, Sean's wife, didn't have need of a housekeeper, she agreed to tutor the children in the winter. Oh, and Sarah Cummings helps as well. Over the past winter, the children have already learned their letters and some are even starting to read.”

The smile on his wife's face made Colin's heart race. He could feel himself wanting to kiss her. Not wanting to push things too far, he turned away and puffed on his cigar. “That is wonderful. I am sure the children are appreciative of the schooling.”

“Some of the farmers were against the idea in the beginning. I had many days where I would argue with them about it. In the end, my stubbornness won out.”

“You, stubborn? I have never noticed that.”

Hearing the mockery in his voice, Ginny simply said, “Oh, you will, Colin. You will.”

Laughing, they continued their walk around the garden. They both stopped short as they found themselves in front of the Diana statue. The same statue where “the kiss” happened over a year before. Ginny remembered the kiss, so captivating and erotic. His tongue tasting her, her body responding to his touch. Seeing the statue with him, made her want those things back all the more.

Colin was worried about how Bethany might react. Would it dredge up the anger again and destroy the fragile truce they had? Afraid to stay, but afraid to move away as well, Colin felt rooted to the spot. Ginny felt his tension and wished to put him at ease. “You know, I once was kissed by this spot.”

Whipping his head to look at his wife, he saw her smiling face and knew that everything would be fine. “Was it a good kiss?” he asked, extending her good humor.

“Eh,” was all she said in return.

Colin laughed a deep, hearty laugh. One he recognized from his youth, before the pressures of taking charge of so many could defeat it. How could he have left this woman? She was his ideal mate. When his laughter died, he walked away, feeling the depth of his loss. She hadn't forgiven him, per se. She chose to forget his indiscretion instead. Was that enough? Could he forget, or did he need to learn to forgive himself for his stupidity? Suddenly the moment was lost, and Colin felt very uncomfortable. Sensing the change, Ginny set out to reassure him. “If I may, Colin, I would like to explain where my idea came from. The one about forgetting and starting over.”

Stopping, he turned around and stared at her. “Please,” was all he said. Ginny walked over to the nearest bench and sat down. She motioned for him to join her and waited until he was seated. Staring at the garden, she explained. “I carry a lot of guilt for things I did over the past year. Obviously, our kiss was what started it all. But then, over the year, my infidelity has caused me much pain. I never thought of myself as being inconstant. I could justify it, but it didn't make me feel good about myself.”

Colin watched her face. She wouldn't look at him, but he could tell she was being truthful. It never occurred to him that she felt guilty about her behavior.

Ginny continued, “Forgiving you would be infinitely easier than forgiving myself. That is why I wish to forget the past year. I need to forget my weakness and start fresh. I don't wish to be alone and I now know I can never again be unfaithful. So, it was either start new or kill you. If I can't live with infidelity, I certainly wouldn't be able to live with murder.” Quirking up her eyebrow, she looked into his eyes and smiled. Smiling back, he replied, “I am glad to hear that. Perhaps we both have much to forgive in ourselves.”

“It isn't easy. I will always feel the weight of certain decisions. But in the end, I think we can make it work. Don't you?”

“There is nothing I want more.” His declaration was whispered, but it carried the weight of deep feeling. He recognized that he would not live without her, could not. She was a piece of him and he would do anything and everything to win her back. He would woo the hell out of her.

“Very well. Shall we retire. I am feeling a bit tired this evening. It has been an emotional day.”

“As you wish.” Colin stood and helped Ginny up from her seat. Taking her arm, he escorted her back to the house, where she walked up the staircase toward her bedroom. Colin felt a strange ache in his groin. The past few months, he had been unable to consummate any new relationship. Now, his pretty wife was stirring those feelings in him again. The only problem was, he couldn't go to her. He would have to wait until she was ready. Groaning inwardly as he walked to his study, he wondered just how long it would take.

Chapter 21

The next week was spent reacquainting himself with his home. Colin worked almost daily with Sean McCarthy. He met the steward's wife and had tea with them in the hopes of smoothing things over after assuming McCarthy was having an affair with his wife. He visited the old tenants, who were happy to see him. There were two new tenants that he introduced himself to and made sure they were content on his estate. He made sure he had breakfast with his wife every morning. They talked about all their favorite topics. Bethany had spent a little time in London and railed against the ton and it's antiquated ideals. She would complain about the pettiness, the cattiness and the snootiness. She laughed over the young bucks making plays for her like she would even consider their advances.

It was over this week that Colin learned Bethany had become very close to his sister, Evelyn. Since his townhouse was rented, he assumed that her affair with Clarendon had to transpire at his sister's home. He wondered if his sister encouraged the affair. With the season beginning in a few weeks, he could hardly avoid Evelyn and the almost guaranteed questioning of his behavior. Although his mother seldom traveled to London anymore, he was certain that once she heard of his return, there would be a visit from her as well. Although Colin and Bethany danced around any discussion of their inappropriate behavior over the past year, there were certain topics that could scarcely be avoided. Bethany gave him the details of investments she'd made, improvements she approved and gossip she heard. It was actually Colin who opened a can of worms by asking why the staff had no details about his unexpected departure.

“I couldn't very well tell them you left me, could I?” Bethany asked while working in her garden one morning.

Sitting on a bench, enjoying the view of his wife bending over in breeches, he answered, “I would have thought you would be too happy to have them on your side.”

Laughing over his allegation, she responded, “Besides being somewhat embarrassing, having you run off after one night, I never wanted to turn anyone against you. The staff was told that you had serious business to take care of and that I was unsure of when you would be able to return. I believe many of them thought you were a spy in France.”

“Flattering, to be sure. Who did know of my real reasons for departing?”

“Pearce, of course. He was the one who told me you left. My parents, your mother and sister. Your brotherin-law, of course. And Miles. They're the only people I told.”

It stung him to hear Clarendon's name, but refused to mention it. After all, he was the one to bring it up.

“How did my mother and sister take the news?”

“Your mother never said anything bad about you. She stayed for almost a month after you left to make sure I was alright. I believe she was disappointed, but I remember her constantly relaying stories of how you took care of her and your sister after your father died. I think she was trying to explain your behavior without taking sides.”

“And Evelyn?”

“She was very angry with you. But I suspect you already knew that. She had me read some of the letters she sent you in Europe. I'm almost glad you didn't read them. She felt betrayed. I guess mostly for me, but she took a lot of it personally. You may find gaining her forgiveness more difficult than gaining mine.”

Ginny turned around to see his reaction. His face was stone, hard and implacable. His eyes stared off toward a grove of trees. Turning her head slightly, she asked, “Are you nervous about seeing her again?”

His eyes turned to her. “Yes.”

“If she sees I've let bygones be bygones, maybe she will as well.”

Chuckling, he replied, “I doubt it.”

“I'm sorry, Colin. Your sister can be rather stubborn, but eventually she'll come around. You'll have to be patient.” Ginny stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants.

Colin could only stare at the vision that was his wife. A large part of him wanted to walk over and kiss her until she was as filled with desire as he was. His plan to let her make the first move was slowly degrading, since he was without the requisite willpower to maintain it. How much more could he take? He watched her stand there, in men's breeches no less. The picture was alluring to say the least. His wife seemed oblivious to his desire. Bethany could be very astute, so he wondered if she pretended not to notice to drive him mad. The thought brought a smile to his face. It was a fitting punishment after his abandonment.

“What do you have planned today?” he asked, trying to distract his carnal thoughts.

“I am meeting with some of the women in Headley to discuss the upcoming festival.”

“The summer festival? Isn't that usually in July?”

“Normally, yes. But it was a very rainy July, so we put it off until now. Since harvest doesn't start for a few more weeks, we figured most everyone could attend.”

“I used to love attending the festival. It was the one time I didn't have to feel superior to everyone else.”

“Should I sign you up for some of the competitions? That should knock you down a few pegs.”

“Madam, what makes you think I would lose?”

“Somehow I can't see you throwing hatchets at a target.”

“Throwing hatchets?”

“Sean McCarthy's idea. Those Scottish are quite brutal.” She laughed as she described the contest to her husband. Ginny had first hand knowledge of how brutal the medieval Scottish could be.

“Perhaps I will find another competition in which to embarrass myself.” His laughter was a balm to Ginny. After a year of guilt and pain, it seemed a little too easy to forgive him. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that it would be okay. The romance novel world guaranteed he would never wander from her again.

“I should get cleaned up and changed. I doubt the good women of Headley would appreciate my... current fashion statement.”

“Indeed.” His eyes turned smoky and his stare intense. “I could not agree less. I find your current dress rather... alluring.”

Hearing the passion in his voice, feeling herself respond to it automatically, Ginny wasn't quite ready to forgive him that much. She had only spent a few months in Scotland with Ian, her first mega-hunk, and she had already spent over a year in this life. Ginny felt her real life slipping away at times, and would do anything she could to remember little things about it. Songs, nursery rhymes, TV commercials. Anything to prevent her from forgetting the 21st century. If she slept with him and got herself pregnant, then she might move on like her previous experience. Ginny just couldn't make herself do it yet. Maybe it was pride, but mostly she thought it was her own sense of how things needed to progress. Soon, she thought, soon.

“Be that as it may, I believe I shall prevent loads of local gossip by simply putting on a gown.” Not that putting on a gown was all that easy. After all, it did require the assistance of her maid.

“As you wish, my lady.”

Ginny felt her steps moving closer to him. Felt herself giving in to the desire she heard in his voice. Maybe one kiss wouldn't hurt. It might even smooth things over for when they finally did get to the point where they were sharing a bed again. Wouldn't want their first kiss to happen then, it might be too awkward. Yes, she considered, it would be too awkward. We should get better acquainted over a simple kiss now. When it came to justification, Ginny was the Queen.

Colin, sensing the change in her, moved closer as well. They met, standing in front of each other in her small garden, toe to toe. Ginny looked up into his eyes, smiling to let him know what she wanted. As Colin bent his neck down to brush his lips against hers, they heard a gasp.

“So there you are, Lord Whitmore. What a pleasure to have you home!” The voice was dripping with sarcasm, something that Evelyn had learned from Ginny.

Turning away from his wife, Colin stood looking at his sister. “Evelyn, what a surprise. Were we expecting you?”

“I cannot imagine you were expecting anyone. Lord Collingsford and I were in the neighborhood and decided to pay Bethany a visit. Imagine my surprise when Pearce told me you had finally come home.”

Evelyn's eyes were blazing. She would have her say, there was no way around that. Ginny had no intention of being involved.

“Well, you two obviously have much to discuss. I will just go and get changed.” Ginny walked over to her sister-in-law and gave her a kiss. In a whisper, Ginny spoke so only Evelyn could hear. “Try not to yell too much, Evelyn. It's time to forgive.”

Evelyn gave Ginny an incredulous look. “How can you, of all people, say that, Bethany? After what he did to you.”

Ginny stopped and faced her sister-in-law. “Yes, Evelyn. It happened to me and I have forgiven him. Hating him would only have hurt me, so it wasn't worth it. I wasn't exactly an angel either, as you remember. The past can't be undone, so there is no sense in wallowing in it.” Ginny walked back to the house, leaving the brother and sister their time to set things right.

Evelyn couldn't believe her ears. Pearce said that Whitmore had only been home a week. How could she get over the past year so quickly. Turning her head and looking at Colin in the eye, she asked, “Did you accomplish what you wanted, brother?”

“I am sorry for hurting you, Evelyn. My behavior was deplorable and I suspect it will take a long time to forgive myself for what I did to my wife. I never read your letters, because I refused to take responsibility for my behavior. I am back now and I hope to make things up to Bethany. I thank you for your friendship to her. I know you and Collingsford helped her immeasurably.”

Evelyn snorted. Surely her brother didn't think he could receive her forgiveness so easily. She walked around the garden, looking at the flowers, speculating how he managed to receive Bethany's forgiveness so easily. She decided to ask him. “How is it you can abandon your life, break your vows with many different women and your wife forgave you so quickly?”

Colin's gaze dropped to his boots. He had to be honest, since his sister deserved no less. “I do not know. I am the luckiest man in England, to be sure. After a contentious couple of days, she suddenly had a change of heart. She wanted to forget everything over the past year and start new. You see, I am to woo her, court her as if we were never married. She asked me to remind her why she used to like me.”

Evelyn stopped and turned to face him. “You are courting your wife?”

Smiling, thinking back to the conversation, he answered, “Yes, I am. We talk about everything. Our discussions are quite lively. When you arrived, we were talking about the upcoming summer festival and how I would humiliate myself participating in the competitions.”

“I... I am...” Evelyn didn't know what to say. She was astounded at Bethany's ability to move on. There were things in her own marriage that she had trouble getting past, and those were not nearly as bad as what Colin had done. Walking away, back toward the house, she wondered if she should learn something from this. Colin walked behind his sister, knowing that the situation had unsettled her. Truth be told, he was shocked at how his wife overcame her anger and had somehow thoroughly moved on. He wasn't lying when he told his sister that he was the luckiest man in England. Now, he needed to figure out a way to get his wife alone again, so he could continue with the kiss he longed to give her. Maybe he could surprise her outside her bedroom door before she went off to the village. Thought in hand, Colin quickened his step back to the house.

Colin missed his wife by minutes, catching her in the entryway instead. She was talking to his brother-in-law about horses. He thought it strange that his wife would have any knowledge of the topic, since she so disliked riding the animals. Perhaps over the past year, she'd improved her riding skills. Just another thing he didn't know about her.

Walking up behind her, he spoke for the first time to Lord Collingsford in over a year. “Collingsford, it is good to see you.” Colin extended his hand and wondered if his brother-in-law would take it. Never one to be rude for any reason, Collingsford did take the proffered hand and shook it. “It is nice to see you home, Whitmore. I was just discussing a fine bit of horseflesh with your wife. She knows nothing of horses, but always seems to have an interesting opinion worth listening to.”

Laughing, Ginny remarked, “Well, I may know little about horses, but I've become quite stingy in the purse. I still say you're being taken.”

Collingsford agreed. “It does seem a mighty sum for a horse who has yet to prove himself. Damn fine looking animal, though.”

“Is that what brought you to Headley?” Colin asked.

“Indeed. The stables just outside Farnham boasted quite a selection of runners. Their prices though, as you wife has pointed out, seem a bit excessive. Evelyn insisted on coming here afterward. I hope we are not intruding though.”

“Not at all. Will you stay the night?” Colin was conflicted, both wanting them to stay, but wanting to be alone with Bethany.

“Bethany... I mean, Lady Whitmore, has kindly extended an invitation to us. We would by happy to accept.”

“Simon, I've told you it's fine to call me Bethany. Colin is well aware of my propensity toward familiarity. It may drive him mad, but I'm sure he finds it to be a very endearing trait as well.”

Lifting an eyebrow to his wife, he remarked, “Endearing, indeed. It nearly got me beaten up by my steward.”

Ginny was shocked. “What? Why?”

“Never you mind, my dear. Now, Collingsford, tell me about this horse. I am always in the market for fine horseflesh.”

The two men began to walk into the drawing room, when Ginny mentioned, “Well, I guess I'll be leaving now.” She then turned and went about walking to the door. Before she could open it, Colin was by her side. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Have fun at your meeting, my dear. I shall look forward to continuing our conversation from the garden before we were interrupted by my sister.”

The whispered promise made Ginny tingle with excitement. Continue, indeed, she thought as he opened the door for her and all but pushed her out. Taking her seat in the curricle next to Lyle, she smiled over the promise. She should make him wait. Wait until he was about to burst, as a matter-of-fact. Staring at the scenery, she wondered how the evening would end and if either one would be satisfied or frustrated.

Chapter 23

Dinner was a bland affair. Although Ginny would constantly bring up a topic for conversation, the rest of the party would only answer in monosyllables or grunts. Evelyn, who was usually very willing to talk since her husband usually wouldn't, seemed distant. Ginny knew she was mad at Colin, but was beginning to wonder if she was also mad at her. Ginny had commiserated with her over her rotten marriage enough to wonder if Evelyn felt betrayed by her sudden turn around.

Colin was keeping quiet, afraid to say something that would lead to more unpleasant talk about his sudden disappearance last year. And Collingsford, who was usually so quiet and reserved, was the only one willing to talk to her. Still, the talk would usually end abruptly and leave an uncomfortable silence. When supper ended, Ginny was thrilled. She and Evelyn retired together to the drawing room, leaving the men to seek out their cigars and port. Once seated, Ginny thought it was time to lay everything out in the open.

“Evelyn, I know you're probably disappointed in me for forgiving Colin.”

Standing up and walking to the window, Evelyn replied, “It is your life, Bethany. I cannot make that decision for you.”

“I wouldn't ask you to. I just wanted to explain.” Just then, a maid entered with a tea tray. Placing it on the table, she quickly exited, closing the door behind her.

“Would you like some tea?” Ginny asked, hoping to bring her back to the settee.

“No, thank you,” was her only reply.

Ginny realized this would be tougher than she thought. “What else can I do, Evelyn. We can't get a divorce. Would you have us live as strangers forever?”

Turning around and looking at her sister-in-law, Evelyn realized her folly. “No, I would not want that. I want only for you and Colin to be happy. Though I am quite angry with him, I still love my brother. But, I just cannot understand how you could forgive him so quickly. After all the anger and disappointment. After how he abandoned you so callously.”

“Come and sit down, Evelyn and I will try to explain.” She waited for her sister-in-law to take her seat and then Ginny continued. “I was very angry. Every thing I said to him was an accusation. I called him dreadful names and used words that no lady should use. But when I was done, I didn't feel any better. I felt worse. It just didn't seem worth it.”

“How do you know he will behave?”

Laughing at her choice of words, she said, “I don't. I can only have faith that he's changed now that he had his holiday.”

“What about Miles?”

Ginny's gaze turned down to her lap. She knew Evelyn was wondering most about their night together, in her townhouse. “That night with Miles ended before anything could happen. I'm glad it did. Our flirtation caused me too much guilt that it was never very enjoyable. I have written to Miles, letting him know that I value his friendship, but our acquaintance can never be more than that. Not just because of Colin being back, but because I'm not cut out for infidelity.”

Softening her eyes, smiling slightly, Evelyn said, “I still think you should make him wait longer. I saw the two of you about to kiss in the garden today.”

“That would have been the first kiss since his return. I have not allowed him back in my bed. I'm not ready for that intimacy yet.”

“Good. Make him wait!”

Laughing, enjoying their renewed friendship, Ginny smiled. “You are positively evil, Evelyn. It's what I like about you.”

The two women laughed and continued their conversation on safer topics. Ginny knew everything would eventually be alright. In fact, for the first time, she felt like the story was going where it was supposed to go. But where would it lead when it finally ended?

The men had just finished their port and Colin was about to go out into the garden to smoke his cigar when Pearce appeared. In his usual stoic manner, he addressed Lord Collingsford. “My lord, your wife has asked me to tell you that she has retired and wishes you to come to bed immediately.”

Quirking an eyebrow up to Colin, he replied, “I have learned over the years not to keep your sister waiting. She has quite a temper.”

“I lived with her many years longer than you, my friend, and know exactly what you mean.”

“Good night, Whitmore. It is good to have you home.”

“Thank you. It is good to be home.”

Lord Collingsford rose and left the room. Before Pearce could disappear, Colin asked, “And where is my wife, Pearce?”

“Lady Whitmore went for a walk about the garden, my lord.”

“Thank you. I was about to take a turn myself.”

Colin walked out to the stone terrace and went to the edge to try to spy his wife's location. His intent was to finish what he started this morning, before his sister so rudely interrupted. Squinting his eyes to the dark night, he spotted some light yellow muslin heading toward the maze.

Walking quickly, hoping to catch up, Colin was surprised at how easily he could still navigate his garden. His wife could have destroyed his pride and joy, or even could have rearranged things, but she kept it just as he'd left it. The only change she made was adding her own garden, and that was placed in the back, out of the way. He owed her so much, and he planned to use their lifetime together to repay her. But for now, he had one thing in mind and that was to kiss his wife.

Reaching the entrance to the maze, he stopped and listened. He thought he could hear singing. Following the sound, he found her in the center, on the marble bench placed for those lucky enough to find it. His wife was indeed singing. He didn't recognize the song. The melody was as unfamiliar as the words. Her voice was like an angel's, singing the words with emotion.

“You used to the best to make life be life to me

And I hope that you're still out there and you're like you used to be We'll have ourselves a time and we'll dance till the morning sun And we'll let the good times come in, and we won't stop till we're done We'll be back in the high life again

All the doors I closed one time, will open up again

We'll be back in the high life again

All the eyes that watched us once will smile and take us in”

The sound of gravel under Colin's feet alerted Ginny to his proximity. She stopped singing at once, turned and stared at him standing a few yards away. A blush crept up her cheeks as she realized he'd been standing there for some time.

“I am not familiar with that song. What is it called?” Colin wanted to put her at ease, now feeling guilty for sneaking up on her.

“No song you'd have ever heard before.” But only because it was written more than a hundred fifty some years in the future by Stevie Winwood, she thought. She should have known that he would follow her out here. Ginny sensed that Colin had been trying all day to finish what he started that morning.

“Am I disturbing you?” Colin's face showed his anxiety, his desperation for her to welcome him over.

“Of course not, Colin. Please, have a seat.” Ginny patted the empty spot next to her. She often came out to the garden to sing. She loved Bethany's voice. It was much better than the strangled cat noises she used to make in her own body.

As if reading her mind, Colin said, “You have a beautiful voice, my dear. You should exhibit more often.”

Smiling at his compliment, she replied, “I'm not much into singing in front of people. Thus the reason I hide in the garden.” Turning her head to stare at her hands in her lap, the moment seemed awkward. She wanted him to kiss her, but didn't want him to know that. It was one of those games that Ginny had never been good at.

Colin reached over and pulled her face up to look at him. “There was something I wished to give you this morning. I still would if you are willing.”

Ginny felt her eyes tear up and prayed she wouldn't cry. What was there to cry about? she asked herself. Instead, she nodded slowly and closed her eyes.

His lips brushed against hers lightly before kissing her closed eyes, her nose and forehead. As far as kisses went, it wasn't the most seductive, but it wasn't meant to be. Colin wanted her to relax, wanted her to want it as much as he did. He caught her off guard, and now needed to get her to loosen up. Opening her eyes, Ginny stared back at her husband. His expression spoke of lust, pure and simple. The need to have him came on so suddenly, she was shaken for a moment. When the moment passed, she leaned in and started to kiss him back. She opened his mouth and let her tongue slip inside the man she'd barely known before becoming his wife. He tasted of wine and cigars. More than that, it tasted familiar, like a favorite pair of shoes, comfortable and predictable.

Colin hardly believed what she was doing. Taking full advantage, he enclosed his arms around her and pulled her closer. He wanted to feel her body against his, even if this was all she would grant him right now. When his sweet wife climbed onto his lap and rubbed against him provocatively, his breath caught in his throat. His hand reached around and rubbed her breast, coaxed her nipple erect and made her gasp at his touch. It was all too much for Ginny. Pulling away, she stood and put some distance between them. Turning her back to him, she tried to control her racing heart. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to open herself up this much to him. The last time she did that, he left her, exposed, forgotten. It reminded her too much of how she had let him do that to her. The old fears crept into her heart, the one she tried to forget.

“I am sorry, Bethany. I did not mean to scare you. I promise to behave myself.” Colin felt like he was talking to a virgin. It occurred to him that in some ways, she was. They had only had sex once, and although she may have kissed Clarendon, she never allowed him in her bed. It would take time, and he would have to be patient.

Turning back to him, she smiled. “I had promised to forget, Colin, but I'm only human. Our wedding night was very humiliating for me. When you didn't speak to me, never kissed me... when you left after it was over, not bothering to see if I was alright...” The tears were falling now, a reminder of the humiliation she felt that night. Ginny didn't want to hurt him more, but she needed to have her say. She needed to be reassured that it would never happen again.

The shame was written on his face. Colin turned away before she could see the depth of his pain. He could recall that night, his anger at being married. He remembered how he wanted to punish her, but was determined to consummate the marriage so she couldn't seek an annulment while he was gone. To call him a bastard was too kind. He had truly ruined her that night.

“I can never express the shame I feel for what I did. I remember wanting to punish you, but instead I ruined a beautiful, young woman. I swear to you that I would never behave like that again. I would sooner die a painful death than treat you so abominably again.”

“I know you wouldn't, Colin. I just need some time. I'm just not ready yet. I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I will wait forever for you to be ready.”

His simple declaration did wonders for Ginny. She smiled and said goodnight and promptly left him behind. Her feelings were confusing to her. Part of her wanted him to come to her bed again, wanted that relationship. The other part, never wanted him near her again. She wondered if there would ever be a middle ground, a point where they could be happy.

As she walked back, she spotted the Diana statue. Stopping in front of it, she remembered the kiss that started the whole mess. She remembered how she knew that it would not be enough, that it would lead to other things. What she didn't know at the time was that it would lead down a path of pain and unhappiness. But that was behind her, to be kept in the past where it belonged, with anything else that she couldn't change. The man on her wedding night was not the man she had just left behind in the maze. The latter was more mature, recognized his culpability, felt the depth of the pain he caused. And most importantly, would never commit those sins again. He was human and would make mistakes. They would argue and hurt each other's feelings, but she knew he would never hurt her as badly as he did that night. It was time, she decided. It was time to move on and let go. She let those feelings overwhelm her in the maze, but they wouldn't again. What happened that night, over a year ago, happened to two different people. It was time to make a new life, be married and hopefully, move on. Smiling, she walked back to the house to change for bed. She had no intention of sleeping in her own bed that night. She had every intention to be the first bride in history to relive her wedding night.

Chapter 24

Colin sat for a long time on that bench in the middle of the maze. Quietly chastising himself over his pushing her too hard. He needed to slow down and make things perfect. More wooing, more courtship, and especially, more understanding.

Eventually, he made his way to his bedroom and got undressed. His valet, Charles, helped him with his boots, took his dirty clothes and promptly left him alone. Standing in just his nightshirt, Colin formulated a plan for a romantic day with his wife. Perhaps a picnic by the lake, where they could just talk. It sounded wonderful.

Climbing into bed, he went to blow out the last candle when there was a knock on his door. “Come in, Charles.”

“It's not Charles.”

Colin was out of his bed as soon as he realized it was his wife. She walked over to him and stood before him wearing only a thin nightgown. He wanted to touch her, but knew he couldn't. He simply waited for her to explain.

Ginny didn't know what to say. She didn't want him thinking she was going to keep seducing him to stop him cold. It suddenly occurred to her how to bridge the gap. Hoping she didn't sound too silly, she asked, “May I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Pardon me?” Colin was sure he didn't hear her right. Did she ask to sleep in his bed? Did she mean to actually sleep? The confusion was written on his face, but since the candle was behind him, she couldn't see it.

“I was hoping that I might share your bed tonight.” As Ginny said it, she realized how cryptic is sounded. Wanting to elaborate, she carried on, “I just want to sleep with you, if that's alright.”

“Of course, my dear.” Moving out of her way, he watched as she climbed into his enormous bed, pulling the covers over herself and waiting for him to join her. Colin blew out the last candle and climbed in next to her. He laid down, not sure what to do next, when he felt her snuggle up to his side. Placing his arm around her, she laid her head on his chest while wrapping her arm around him. She fit perfectly against his body, as if she were made just for him.

“Are you comfortable, dearest? Is there anything you need?” he asked tentatively, not wanting to break the intimacy.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

He gently placed a kiss on the top of her head. This is good, he thought to himself. It wasn't long before he felt her breathing even out and he knew she was asleep. Closing his eyes, he decided to join her. Colin was having the best dream. He and Bethany were having their picnic, making love in a field of wildflowers. Her hands were stroking the hair on this chest, playing with his nipples. Her lips were kissing his jawline, down one side and up the other. He moved his hands to grasp her face and began to kiss her lips. It was then he realized he was not dreaming.

Pulling away, he looked at her face. The features were dull, but there was enough moonlight to see a smile on her face. “Is this what you want, Bethany?” His voice sounded shaky, from both sleep and passion.

“Yes, Colin. This is what I want.” Her voice sounded determined.

Colin kissed her again, invading her mouth, stroking her short hair. His hands made their way down her back, rounded her bottom and grabbed at the hem of her nightgown. Without thinking, without considering how quickly he was moving, he pulled the hem up and over her head. Bethany was kneeling in front of him, naked and glorious. He could do nothing but stare at her body.

Ginny felt her heart begin to race again with the same fears. Taking a deep breath, she trusted that it was different. This would be her wedding night, she silently vowed. This would be their beginning. Smiling, she reached over and began to tug the bottom of his nightshirt. He finally realized her intent and allowed her to pull the shirt over his head and drop it to the floor.

Colin was slightly dizzy, partly from being abruptly woken up and mostly from having his desire overcome his senses. Tentatively, he reached out and caressed her breast, first stroking, then cupping it in his hand. Bending over, he began to suckle the nipple, flick it with his tongue. Hearing her gasp, Colin reached behind his wife and lowered her onto her back. Stretching out beside her, he cupped her face and kissed her gently. It was nearly perfect as far as Ginny was concerned. She felt all the tension giving way. This was how it was supposed to be, no pretension, no anxieties. Just two people rediscovering what had originally attracted them to each other. At the moment, Ginny didn't care if they only kissed all night. His lips were soft, his tongue was carnal and his hands were stroking her body.

She felt his hand on her stomach, caressing the soft skin. It was so close to her juncture, it made her burn inside. The heat was spreading to her legs and up to her chest. Colin began to kiss her neck, moving his body down, moving his hand lower to play with her soft curls. Colin used his hand to move her legs apart, giving him better access to her.

Ginny laid still, waiting to see what he would do next. When his fingers parted her, rubbed her intimately, she sighed from the feeling. He used small, circular motions that were quickly building the sweet pleasure inside her. While his thumb continued to rub her, his finger entered her sheath, demonstrating without words how titillated she was.

Feeling the wetness on his finger, Colin longed to taste her as he did their one other night. He wanted this encounter to be perfect, her pleasure all consuming. He kissed his way down her body, until he was situated between her legs. Using his tongue, Colin was determined to show his wife pure enjoyment. Ginny arched her back to the sensation. Colin was making her feel like she was a delicious dessert, simply for his own delectation. It was a heady experience, knowing this man wanted nothing but to make her orgasm. His tongue worked wonders, as his finger continued penetrating her deep recess. The ecstasy kept building, until it spilled over and Ginny was rocked by the gratification. The deep burning burst out and stunned her momentarily. Arching her back, trying to keep the surge of pleasure going, Ginny felt the incredible numbness that always follows a truly good orgasm.

Looking down at her husband, she noticed he was watching her face, with a goofy grin that spoke of smug pride. Closing her eyes again, smiling, she thought how most men took such pride in this accomplishment. She supposed it was warranted, as the female orgasm was anything but guaranteed. Some men treated it as though they'd reached the moon and back without the aid of a rocket.

Moving back to his position beside her, Colin slowly moved his hand up Bethany's body and began to play with her breasts again. Carefully turning her body away from his, Colin lifted her leg up and entered her from behind. After her orgasm, she was so wet that he slipped right in. The pressure of her walls closed in on his erection, making him weak with desire. He tried to slow himself down, not wanting the moment to end, but after so long, it became too much. His movements quickened, he felt his wife panting over his invasion. When he felt her body close in on him tighter, he let go, freeing his seed and enjoying his own release. They laid spooned together for a long time while each recovered from the experience. Colin remained inside of her, still hard, but no longer aching with need. After a few minutes, he gently rocked back and forth, to try to bring his wife to orgasm again. When he heard her moan, low at first, but then building in intensity, he continued his ministrations. Suddenly, he could feel her spasms, hear her calling out his name. She arched her back against him, then relaxed into a puddle of contentment.

Colin moved away, but quickly pulled her into his arms, cradling her. He wanted to tell her without words that he was still here and would remain here, forever. Colin had never been one for sentimentality, but he found himself whispering endearments into her ear, watching her face as she woke from her erotic dream. Ginny opened her eyes and looked to her husband's face. Reaching up, she rubbed the day old beard on his cheek, ran her thumb against his lips. Lowering his head, he kissed her so sweetly, Ginny felt the tears forming in her eyes. Before she could stop them, they spilled over and down her face. Concerned, Colin asked, “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

Wanting to laugh, but not wanting to insult her husband, Ginny just smiled. She was always amazed at how men thought they were so big, they could actually hurt you. To put him at ease, Ginny replied, “No, I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I'm going to ride this high for days.”

Confused by her words, he said, “This high will be nothing

compared to what I plan for you later. For now, you might want to get some sleep. I shall be waking you soon enough.”

Ginny did laugh at that. She turned her back, so they could snuggle against each other for a bit before she moved over to sleep. To her surprise, she fell asleep against his warm body. Colin knew instantly that she was dozing. He listened to her steady breathing for a few minutes, then succumbed to his own sleepiness. He did wake her two more times before the sun rose. They were both exhausted, but content. When Ginny woke at her usual time, Colin suggested breakfast in bed. Pulling the sheets up to cover his wife, he pulled the bell pull by the side of the bed. When Charles entered, saw his mistress in his master's bed, he turned his back and asked of how he could be of service.

“Please have a bath readied for my wife, Charles. First, we would like coffee and toast in my chamber. Inform Lady Whitmore's maid that she will be running a little late this morning.” The last part he said while smiling at his wife.

“Yes, my lord.” Charles wanted to be as far away as possible before those two started anew.

“Maybe we should get up. Your sister and brother-in-law are still here.” Cuddling up to her husband, Ginny didn't really care what his relatives did.

“They can fend for themselves. I believe I might be very busy today.” Ginny laughed until Colin began to describe all the things he planned to do to her that day. Her laughter ceased, mostly because she was too busy allowing him to get his busy day started.

Charles returned too quickly with their breakfast. He set up the tray on a table by the hearth and left to take care of the bath. Colin got up and retrieved each a cup of coffee and some buttered toast. Ginny watched him, admiring his naked body, while he gathered the offering.

She sat up and leaned against the pillows and headboard. Colin handed her a cup and watched her as she drank deeply. Lifting her eyes from her cup, she watched him watching her. After one more sip, Colin took the cup from her hands, gingerly placed it on the side table and began to take advantage of his wife one more time.

“You have quite a bit of energy for someone who only had a few sips of coffee,” she stated as Colin nuzzled her neck.

“Love will do that to a man.”

Ginny stiffened. “What?”

Colin sensed the change and stopped what he was doing. “I love you,” was all he replied, staring deeply into her eyes.

Ginny knew he wasn't lying, he did truly love her. And it scared the hell out of her. Did that mean she would leave? When would it happen? She didn't leave Ian until she was pregnant. Would it be the same now? The panic began to set in and her eyes widened in what must have looked like horror. Watching her, Colin misunderstood. “Bethany, I will never leave you again. I promise. I am exactly where I want to be.”

Trying to calm herself down, she took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, Colin. I'm just tired and I guess I'm overreacting. I know you won't leave me again.” But I may be leaving you, she thought somberly. He smiled and pulled her against him. “You should get some more rest. I will tell Charles to hold off on the bath...”

“No. I think the bath will help. Perhaps you will join me?” She smiled slyly, letting him know that she had every intention of being naughty.

He raised his eyebrow in response and bent down to kiss her soundly. “I shall make sure that the tub is not filled too high. I will be back for you in a moment.” With that, Colin got out of bed, put on his nightshirt and walked through the door.

Ginny sat back and thought about what was inevitably going to happen. Did she do it right? Would she go home this time? If she didn't get to go back to her own time, she would prefer to stay here. She couldn't claim love yet, but everything was right. She would eventually love him and she had no doubt they could make a life together.

But Ginny didn't get a choice. So when the dizziness came, she drew in a deep breath and whispered,

“Goodbye, Colin.” And like before, there was nothing.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Chapter 23

Chapter 24