A Lesson in Pride (23 page)

“I don't know what to say, Grant. You know how I feel. You know why it can never be. Would it be better if I begged off tomorrow night?”

“No,” he answered with such ferocity that Ginny jumped back. “I must marry her, but that doesn't mean that I have to give up our friendship. No one can make me do that. Not my father. Not my brother, and not Persephone Horton. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” she responded, even knowing differently. Their lives would change very soon. Hopefully, Charlotte would be happily married, with Hope following close behind. He would marry Persephone because he had no other choices he was willing to consider. And she? She had no idea at the moment, but something would crop up. Perhaps Lord Hood was wealthy.

She could see it in his eyes. Grant would marry another woman, but he would want an intimacy with her. The intimacy would not necessarily be sexual in nature, but he wanted a part of her that she would be unwilling to give up. Ginny had never met anyone in her real life that even came close to her ideal mate, at least what she'd always perceived as her ideal mate. After being forced to fall in love over and over again, she was now beginning to see what it was that she wanted. There were aspects to each man that she liked, but she couldn't honestly say that any of them were what she needed. What Ginny, the twenty-first century woman of the world wanted. Maybe they were perfect for Ginny in medieval Scotland, or Ginny in nineteenth century Wyoming, or even Ginny in Regency England, but that wasn't who she really was.

So it still begged the question: Where the hell was this story going?

“Are you still going to invite that Hood fellow?” Nothing like asking the question you never wanted answered, but there it was. She had just considered Hood, but she would never throw it in Grant's face.

“Actually, the fellow I had wanted to invite was Mr. Braydon Pierce. He is courting Charlotte and the reason why I need to speak to her.”

“Oh.”

Both were so tired and it showed in their voices. Taking a deep breath, Grant stood and walked to the window overlooking the garden. “I know that the Hortons have not invited anyone other than my brother and his wife. Both, of which, have declined the invitation. It would be unseemly to be seen with someone so beneath their station.”

“Maybe your sister-in-law is not up to it. You said she is pregnant.” Ginny was happy to change the topic of conversation.

“Perhaps.”

“But you don't think so?” she asked, staring at his back.

“No.”

“Do you think you will not be invited around as much after the wedding?”

“I am not invited over much now, so that is unlikely to change. My sister-in-law has never appreciated my being next in line and my brother has never appreciated my ability with women. Both are threatened by me and they are the ones with all the options. Ironic, really.”

With a smile on her face, she jokingly asked, “Would you ever consider seducing your brother's wife?”

Grant turned, his eyes sparkling just a bit. “Dear God, no! The woman has grown to such a size since having her children. Though it is her personality that would keep me far away.”

“And your brother? How does he stand her?”

“Because he has to, of course. She is not one to be trifled with. Though I am certain he has a mistress, he could never parade her around as some do for fear of losing his favorite friend.”

“Favorite friend?” Ginny asked, enjoying the easy camaraderie.

Grant cleared his throat and looked down at his crotch. Ginny let out a howl of laughter. “Favorite friend,” she said. “I see now.”

His face turned serious just before stating, “I should be on my way. You have Charlotte to speak to, and I have my own errands to attend.”

“Then I'll see you tomorrow night.”

His gaze was piercing, his body a statue. Their eyes remained locked for a few seconds before he whispered, “Yes, tomorrow.”

Before he quit the room, he turned and said, “Feel free to invite that Pierce fellow. There will be more than enough room.”

“Thank you.”

With a nod of his head, Grant walked back to the entrance. Ginny purposefully waited until she knew he was gone, then made her way upstairs to her room. Ringing for her maid, Ginny waited to have her hair repaired before going to speak to Charlotte. All her best-laid plans were going to hell. Again. What a surprise.

********

Ginny approached her stepdaughter's door wondering at her reception. She shouldn't have let them go off alone. That only proved that she was an unfit chaperon. At the time, it didn't seem like it would be an issue. Lesson learned.

“Please open the door, Charlotte. I want only to talk to you.”

Hope was standing outside Charlotte's door begging for entrance. Disregarding her first instinct to turn around and hide, Ginny forged on. Hope spotted her and shrugged her shoulders.

“She won't answer the door. She has said nothing. What should we do?”

“You should go. Let me have a chance.”

“What did he do to her?” Hope asked, righteous indignation etched in her features.

“Nothing. I'm afraid it is your sister who needs to lighten up.”

“Oh,” Hope stated before walking away. “If you need me, I will be in my room, reading.”

Ginny knocked lightly on the door. Rolling her eyes, she considered calling out, but instead she reached into her pocket and took out her master key. As the head of the household, she was given the key as a safeguard. Now she would use it to invade her slightly older stepdaughter's privacy.

The lock opened easily enough and Ginny pushed the door open. There was Charlotte, lying in a heap on her bed with her face covered with a pillow. She was still, though Ginny imagined she'd been crying.

“Charlotte, sit up,” she said without preamble. She refused to allow this story to get completely away from her.

Charlotte rose, her face showing that she had been crying. Her eyes were red, as well as her cheeks. Her hair had come undone and soft tendrils framed her pretty face.

“What is the problem? You like him, right?”

“But I already told you that he is wholly inappropriate. He could never care for my family.”

“And I told you that it wasn't your problem. Stop inventing reasons not to like a perfectly respectable man.” This was her no-nonsense side.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ginny couldn't decide how she was going to play this. Obviously ordering her to marry a man was out of the question, but that didn't exclude trickery. Guilt was another very effective tool in the parental arsenal. Though she hoped it wouldn't come to either, she wasn't above them.

“Charlotte, I want you to be happy. If Braydon can make you happy, then everything else will work itself out.”

Charlotte dipped her head. “Maybe he would not make me happy.”

“And maybe the moon is about to crash into Earth. Maybe someday there will be flying machines and horseless carriages.”

“I have only just met him, Ally. I cannot be certain yet.”

A smile bounded to Ginny's face. “Exactly, Charlotte,” she exclaimed, thinking she wouldn't have to resort to less-honorable measures. “You should get to know him better. You should spend some time with him. Isn't that what courtship is all about?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Charlotte said tentatively.

“Good, I'm glad that's settled.” Ginny rose and walked to the door. Before she could leave the room, she called over her shoulder, “By the way, he will be joining us at the theater tomorrow night.”

Ginny ducked out before her stepdaughter could make any protest. There were so many things she could have said to Charlotte. So many ways to reason with her. Instead, Ginny decided to allow some fate to take its course. If she'd learned anything over her time as a romance novel heroine, it was that if she tried too hard, all her work would unravel like a ball of yarn in the paws of a cat.

Chapter 30

As Ginny sat in the box reserved by the Hortons, she realized several things at once. As much as she liked the Hortons, sitting in close quarters with them and their daughter was uncomfortable at best. At worst, it was agony. Every time Persephone smiled in her direction, she remembered her kiss with Grant the day before. She remembered the passion behind it. Mostly, she felt the loss of what was not to be. It was almost as if Alysanne was slowly inching her way back into her psyche.

Hope was more animated, asking all sorts of impertinent questions of Malcolm Horton. She wanted to know all about his businesses. Most ladies would swoon over their charges taking such an interest in trade, but Ginny was pleased. Let the girl explore beyond her boundaries in this safe environment.

Charlotte sat with Braydon, but they didn't say much to one another. Her stepdaughter had a perpetual blush covering her cheeks and Braydon looked desperate. Not a good way to begin a courtship, but of course, he'd already found out that they liked kissing one another. Now was the hard part. Now he had to prove that they would suit for a lifetime.

Then there was Grant. The man was so sullen, even Persephone looked concerned. Before the production began, she leaned over to Ginny and asked, “Do you think Lord Grant unwell?”

“I'm not sure,” she answered. “I have hardly spoken to him all evening.”

“As his dear friend, maybe you should inquire. I would hate to think of him here if he is truly unwell.”

Ginny's eyes softened as she saw what the young girl saw. She was in the throes of an infatuation with Grant, probably thinking herself the luckiest girl in the world. Persephone's feelings were not unlike those of Alysanne. Who could blame them? The man was simply delicious, but infatuation did not a long and happy marriage make.

“Of course. Excuse me.” Ginny rose and walked to the vacant seat next to Grant. Sitting beside him, she leaned slightly over and whispered, “Is there any way you could look less... annoyed?”

Grant, up until that moment, hadn't even acknowledged her existence. Instead, he continued to stare at the empty stage. With her words, he turned and looked upon her with contempt.

“No,” was all he said before turning back to the stage.

Ginny smiled. She liked that he didn't even try with her. It meant that she didn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't with him. “Perhaps if you reach deep down inside, you can find the part of you that is thirty, rather than relying on the part of you that is still twelve.”

She watched carefully for his reaction. The only thing he gave her was a small twitch in his jaw muscle. The sight of which made her smile bigger.

“Are you implying that I am acting like a child?”

“No,” she said, warming up to her cheekiness. “I was flat-out stating it as fact.”

The corner of his mouth inched up a bit, but it was quickly driven back down. His next words drove her smile away as well. “I apologize for not being more entertaining, my lady. I have no desire to enjoy anything this evening.”

And just like that, the game was over. She thought that she might have been able to draw him out of his foul mood, but he was bound and determined to play the martyr. Ginny, for one, would not tolerate it.

“Then may I suggest you take your leave. Your fiancée is worried that you are sick. She has given you the perfect out, if you choose to take it.”

Standing, Ginny returned to her seat next to Persephone. When the girl raised her eyebrows in question, Ginny said, “He is unwell, Miss Horton. But he doesn't wish to disappoint your family, so he insists on staying.”

“How perfectly silly,” she responded while turning to look at her fiancé across the box. “Do you think it would help if I spoke to him myself?”

Dear God, no!
she thought at first, but bit back the urge to divulge her thoughts. Instead, she said, “Maybe.”

Ginny watched as Persephone rose and sat in the same chair she had. Grant was too much of a gentleman to treat his fiancée the same as he'd treated her. She watched as he explained that his head was aching slightly and that he would be fine. She couldn't see Persephone's lips, but her gestures indicated that she was insisting he leave and take care of himself. There was no doubt in Ginny's mind that this little drama would be far more interesting than whatever production was about to go on the stage below.

After some more thorough convincing, Ginny watched Grant nod his head and get up to speak to Malcolm. Mr. Horton rose and shook Grant's hand, then Grant made a quick escape. Did Ginny think she'd done him a huge favor? No, she hadn't. If anything, she was sabotaging her own plan to make Grant fall in love with Persephone.

When Persephone joined her again, she whispered, “He should take better care of himself, my lady. He had such a flush to his cheeks I swear he must be feverish.”

“I'm glad you were able to convince him, Miss Horton. I certainly wasn't able to do so.”

Before more conversation could take place, the lights dimmed and the curtain opened. At least for the next half hour or so, she could concentrate on the play and not the drama of her life.

It took only five minutes to realize that she was in the presence of one of the worst performances of her many lives. The acting was abhorrent, the concept ridiculous, and the set design amateurish. Looking around at the audience, she could see that she was the only person who thought so. Most people appeared captivated, even those in her own box. Ginny thought the entire thing was utter claptrap.