A Lesson in Pride (6 page)

Chapter 6

Ginny was having the most wonderful dream. She was driving her car to the local Target to pick up some new socks. The radio was blaring and she was singing right along with it. She had no idea the name of the band, but belted out the familiar lyrics all the same. When the commotion awoke her, it left her bereft. How something so simple could be missed. She knew she'd taken a lot for granted. If she could only get back, things would be different.

“My lady, you must wake up,” an insistent voice buzzed in her ear.

“Why?” she asked, rolling over and pulling one of the pillows over her head.

“It is the earl, my lady. He is...”

Suddenly, Ginny pulled herself up. She knew damn well what the earl was, but she couldn't betray that to anyone. Instead, she looked at the young girl and asked, “He is what, Maggie?”

Swallowing down a huge lump, Maggie started to cry. Ginny's eyebrows shot up, not in confusion, but in amazement. Drake was never particularly kind to anyone, especially his staff. Why the hell would Maggie be crying over that sack of garbage?

Sniffling, she answered, “I am sorry, my lady, but the earl died last night.”

“Died?” she asked in an over-dramatic tone. All that was missing was her throwing her hand to her forehead and fainting dead away against her pillows. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, my lady,” Maggie sniffed. “Mr. Voelker, his valet, found him this morning. He called for the physician, but it was too late.”

Too late by twelve hours
, Ginny wanted to laugh. “Oh,” was all she responded, not knowing what else to say. “Good riddance,” seemed insensitive, as well as the slew of other phrases that came to her head.

“Mrs. Lester is in the parlor,” Maggie stated as she pulled back the bed sheets and saw the telltale blood stain on the other side. “I must get you dressed so you may go to her.”

“How did Mrs. Lester find out so quickly?” Ginny inquired, allowing herself to be pulled from the bed and into her dressing room.

“Mr. Voelker must have sent her word. She only lives a few doors down.”

Damn
, Ginny thought. Vivianne would be her biggest problem. Drake's oldest daughter hated her. In all fairness, Vivianne hated everyone and everything. She was by far the most miserable person in existence. After growing up in Casa Drake, who could blame the girl. Drake had to set an enormous dowry on the girl to even make a man consider marrying her. In the end, the only man brave enough to attempt such a union was the second son of the Marquis of Ravenwood, a man thirty years her senior and stone-cold deaf.

As Maggie dressed Ginny, the effects of almost an entire bottle of champagne made themselves known. Her head ached and her stomach churned. Would it be insensitive to ask for breakfast, she wondered, as she was sat down to have her hair dressed.

“I need some tea, Maggie,” she stated before realizing that she never asked how her husband had died. Ginny had watched too many detective shows not to know that was suspicious.

“Oh, by the way, how did his lordship die?”

“I overheard the physician say it was his heart most likely.”

“Of course,” Ginny said by rote. The man was a walking case for heart disease, but that wouldn't keep Vivianne from making a stink. No girl could be lucky enough to marry into a wealthy family and have her husband drop so quickly.

“Do you wish me to stop dressing your hair to get you some tea?”

“No, finish up. I'll have a tea tray brought in when I see Mrs. Lester.”

Twenty minutes later, Ginny entered the parlor to see Vivianne with a handkerchief to her face, sniffling. What was the protocol when trying to console a woman who hates you? Ginny walked to the tea tray and said, “Can I pour you a cup of tea, Vivianne?”

“You killed him. I know you did, so there is no use denying it.”

Instead of denying it, Ginny made herself a cup of tea and sat down across from the woman. Vivianne was probably not even thirty, but being miserable caused her to look much older.

Ginny took a long sip and said, “I'm sorry for your loss, Vivianne.”

Standing up, Vivianne stalked around the room, picking up objects, examining them and returning them to their place. Ginny continued to sip her tea.

“I will prove you killed him, Alysanne. I will see you hang for this.”

Ginny finished her tea and stood up. There was just so much she would put up with before breakfast. As she departed the room, she decided to leave Vivianne with a visual.

“I endured the worst half hour of my life last night at the hands of your father. He was unkind and took great pleasure in hurting me. If you think for one moment that I'm sorry he's dead, you're wrong, but don't even think of accusing me of something in my own home. And don't think that I won't have you thrown out of here in a heartbeat. I'm mistress here now, and you would do well to remember that.” Ginny turned and left the room, heading toward the kitchen to find herself some breakfast.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with her appetite, despite the incredible lie she'd just told. No, Drake never got a chance to touch her and the half hour had been most enjoyable indeed.

********

The physician declared that Drake's heart had finally given out. After ascertaining from Ginny that the marriage had been consummated, he decided that the stress of a young wife had been too much for the earl and it had killed him. He assured Vivianne that it had been a peaceful passing.

Vivianne stomped off in a huff. After finishing her breakfast, Ginny returned in time to witness the physician's declaration and Vivianne's snit. Both left at the same time, leaving Ginny to wonder what she was to do now. She knew that protocol was for her to go into deep mourning, never attending any social functions for an entire year. After less than one day of marriage, it came off as a bit harsh.

As the body was being removed, Nigel and Robert came into her parlor as if they owned the house. Undoubtedly, they thought they did. Ginny would take great pleasure in relieving them of that notion.

Nigel called to the butler to bring a tea tray, then closed the doors. He and Robert sat down on the sofa across from her chair. Ginny watched in fascination as both men looked upon her with awe. Of course, in their eyes she was the golden ticket. They had only to walk into the candy factory's doors.

“Did Drake's daughter give you much trouble?” Nigel asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.

“Yes, but nothing I couldn't handle. She accused me of murdering him. I threatened to kick her out.”

“You need to take more care, Alysanne. That woman could hold up our inheritance and cause a scandal.” It was so good to know that Nigel cared how she was doing.

Ginny was about to retort when a thought occurred to her. Vivianne could be a pain, but Nigel could be dangerous. If he thought for one moment that she meant to cut him off, he would do something vindictive to keep her from collecting her inheritance. She would have to be more careful about how she handled him.

Shaking her head, Ginny wondered how she had ended up in an episode of
Dallas
. “All will be well, Father. The physician already declared Drake's death as natural and Grant assisted in the other worry last night. She can try, but she won't get very far.”

“You must insist on meeting with Drake's attorney today. We must know when to expect the transfer of the twenty thousand pounds.”

Ginny had had the pleasure of meeting some incredibly unsavory characters in both her real life and her romance lives. Some were cartoonish, like Reginald Fitzhume from her time in Wyoming. Others were the epitome of evil, but none could compare to the man sitting across from her at that moment. Nigel Thomas took selfishness to a new high. A part of her knew he would not hesitate to kill her if it meant him profiting from it.

“You must let me worry about that, Father. I will handle it.”

“No, I think not. You will need your father to help you with the details. As a young woman, you know little about investing. I will come with you when you visit the attorney.”

Ginny bit her tongue trying to keep herself from throwing the man out. Instead, she lied. “Of course. I will contact you when I have received word of a meeting time.”

Before Nigel could respond, the tea tray was brought in. Ginny went about fixing a cup for her father and brother, then excused herself for a few minutes. She took the stairs two at a time and went to her room. With the door closed, Ginny slid down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her legs.

What was she going to do? Though she had thought him only a selfish nuisance before, Ginny saw that Nigel was going to be a problem. Her brother could be brushed off easily enough, but Nigel saw her as his ticket to the high life. She could give him every cent of the twenty thousand pounds, but he would only come back for more when he pissed it away. Until the man's death, she would never be free of him.

Was she supposed to marry Grant? Was he supposed to protect her? It was the obvious choice, but Ginny had been burned by the obvious choice before. One thing was for certain: Ginny must see the attorney on her own, without Nigel. If she was to get a hold of her life, she needed to have complete control over the money.

Standing up, she went to her writing desk. Scribbling a short note to her husband's attorney, she requested a meeting as soon as possible. When complete, she sealed the letter and sought out the butler.

Handing the note to the butler, she said, “Can you have someone take this to the earl's attorney?”

A look of disgust came across the older man's face, as though Ginny were nothing more than a gold-digging whore. In a way she was, but not because she had chosen that role. To try and form an alliance, she allowed tears to spring to her eyes.

Sniffling, she said, “I am so frightened, Mr. Frommer. I have no idea what to do or where to go.”

In an instant, the butler's expression changed to one of sympathy. “My lady, we will take care of you. You need not worry about such things. I will see this to the attorney as soon as possible.”

Nodding her head, Ginny turned and re-entered the parlor. Her father and brother had picked the tea tray clean, proving that they hadn't bothered to eat that morning. No sooner had Ginny taken her seat, had her father spoke up.

“Well, I have some things to do this morning. I think I shall find a good tailor and have some new clothes made. After that, I shall see about getting a good horse. Come, Robert, let us leave your sister to her mourning.” His tone was ironic, as it was meant to be. The two left without waiting to hear her reply. It was just as well, because it wouldn't have been very pleasant anyway.

Chapter 7

The attorney arrived within a couple of hours. Ginny had been hiding in her room, hoping to avoid any servants who might question her lack of tears over the passing of her husband. Instead, Ginny took the time to think about what her life had been recently.

Thinking back to her past lives, she saw that she had grown as a person. Who wouldn't considering all she'd been through. With living seven lifetimes in a matter of a couple of years, her maturity increased, along with her understanding of human nature. She may have left her own life at age thirty, but she was far more than that now.

She'd had to put up with a lot, but she also got to experience joy beyond measure. There were always problems to solve, but how was that different than real life? If anything, she learned to appreciate the little things. She learned to experience what she could with the time she had. She learned that life, whatever life you were living, should be lived to the fullest.

Deep down, she hoped that she'd made the lives she lived for a short time better. There was no way of knowing what happened after she left, but like anything that required faith, she hoped that the characters went on with their happily ever afters.

A smile crossed her lips thinking of her first husband, Ian. That man was the gross personification of manliness. Despite his size, he was gentle and loving. His touch brought her to new heights of pleasure, but it was his smile that she longed to see day after day. The story she lived was contrived, but had felt more real than anything she'd experienced before. Ginny could not remember a single lover in her real life who had brought her such an orgasm.

Of course, every man she'd slept with during her real life exile had been amazing, not just in bed. Colin had the acerbic wit that she found appealing. Colby had that western charm after he got over being bitter as hell. Then there was Oliver. Poor Oliver. He had had so much to put up with from Ginny. In the end, he demonstrated his loyalty by sticking by her even when she'd kissed another man.

As Ginny mentally ticked off each man, a sudden blush came to her face. Her fifth life was something of an anomaly, even in the romance novel world. Three men in one storyline was pretty slutty. Even with that, Ginny was most proud of herself when it came to that life. It was the life where she took the most charge, decided on her own fate, and made tough decisions. The story screamed that she was meant to be with Nathaniel, but she scoffed its efforts at the contrived and made a life for her character with the better man.

A soft smile came to her face thinking of Matthew. Talk about putting up with a lot. That man had to deal with thinking that the woman he was so passionately attracted to was as crazy as a loon. There were a number of times when Ginny thought she was crazy as well. Overall, it had been an unpleasant experience, but she couldn't have said she would pass up the opportunity to have lived it.