A Lesson in Forgiveness (10 page)

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 twenty-five pounds richer.”