A Lesson in Forgiveness (20 page)

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.”