A Lesson in Presumption Page 2

  But, that was then and this was now. After her marriage, her husband kept her isolated, lonely. He controlled everything, giving the young girl no freedom to even run his household. She had been brutally knocked down a few pegs since her heyday as the season's best and most beautiful.

  Her husband's disdain grew every month she was not with child. His bedroom skills were less than enjoyable for her. Lord Gammage cared little for her pleasure, only completing his duty in the hopes of producing an heir. A few times a month, he would enter her chamber and demand for her to remove her clothing, then commence with what could only be described as piggish rutting, leaving her sore and disenchanted.

  The abuse only began a few months earlier, when in his frustration, her husband began to drink more than was healthy, for either of them. When her period would come, he would drink himself blind and beat her senseless. There was no “honeymoon” period afterwards, he never claimed he was sorry and vow to never hit her again. As far as he was concerned, her being barren was her own fault and perhaps fear would convince her body to give him what he needed.

  As Ginny took in all the memories of Lady Corliss, she was struck by a strange thought. Lord Gammage had valued an heir above everything else, even above his own and her safety. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if this young girl had gotten pregnant and gave birth to a girl. It seemed obvious that his lordship would have killed her for sure, and then their child. And with the approval of his evil mother.

  What am I supposed to do with this pathetic life, Ginny thought grimly. Hugging herself tightly, the weight of the situation came crashing down on her. Not just the fact that she was about to be accused of murdering her husband. But the fact that after living these diverse lives, she still hadn't returned to her own.

  What do I care what happens here? she wondered. I just want to go home already!

  Ginny was surprised when her eyes began to well up and tears ran over the rims. Another life, not her own, another mega-hunk with a problem, another situation to figure out. What would it be this time? she thought. Get out of hanging, meet a man who would accept her shame, fall in love and have babies? Fantastic!

  Suddenly tired, her head pounding to the beat of her heart, Ginny sat on the settee and allowed herself to cry. What if her body was still in a coma in the future? What if that wasn't even what happened? Could this be some sick version of purgatory? Going through the motions only to end up with her real self long gone, buried and hopefully remembered by those who loved her. She wondered why she should even bother. If she could get herself killed in this storyline, maybe she could just rest.

  As the thought struck her, she refused to believe it. There was a purpose here and she was going to figure it out. She would return to her body and live her own life. She would have her house back, her car, her refrigerator and her DVD player. The tears dried up and her back straightened. No, I'm not a victim, I'm not a quitter and I'm not going to take it anymore!

  As she raised herself up to demand to speak to the constable, the man himself entered the room, not looking particularly happy to see her.

  “Lady Gammage, my name is Constable O'Brien. It seems we have a bit of a situation here.” The constable was proficient in understatement. The man himself was short, shorter than Ginny's new persona. He was also painfully skinny. From what Ginny could see, which wasn't much even in the plain clothes he wore, the man looked as if he could be broken in half by a stiff wind. His best feature was his bright, orange hair. It was thick and long, pulled back in a ponytail.

  “If my mother-in-law is done speaking, may I tell you my side of the story?” Might as well get right into it, Ginny figured.

  Motioning her to the settee, the constable agreed. “Yes, please have a seat and let us speak of what happened.”

  Ginny settled herself down and waited for the constable to join her. When he appeared comfortable, she began, “My husband was drinking too much today. He was physically abusing me. When I tried to leave the house, he came after me and fell over a table and hit his head.”

  Arching an eyebrow, just as orange as the hair on his head, the constable considered her story for a moment. “Well, it seems that the dowager has another version of what happened, my lady.”

  “That's interesting. She wasn't even here. How did she come by her version?” When it came to sarcasm, Ginny was a master. Like Michaelangelo and his Sistine Chapel, Ginny could wield her words to make one fully appreciate their stupidity.

  “She spoke to yer servants. They admitted that you played a bigger role in the 'accident' then you mention.” The constable was calm, never raising his voice. Ginny had to admire that trait, since he must deal with a lot of unruly individuals.

  “Are you referring to the servants that she had more than enough time to threaten before your arrival?”

  “Now, Lady Gammage, there seems no reason to accuse the dowager of such treachery.”

  Rolling her eyes, Ginny squared her gaze directly to his. “Really? No reason she might want to see me hang. She wouldn't want the fact that her son was a drunk and abusing his wife to make its rounds among society.”

  The constable knew he was in an impossible situation. The dowager had it within her power to ruin him, just on a whim. By the same token, he knew that Lady Gammage had a powerful family who may just do the same to protect their daughter. O'Brien was no fool... he could see the bruises on the lady's face. One particularly large strawberry was forming next to her eye. Even if he was more inclined to believe the younger Lady Gammage, he could not come right out and say it.

  “I will have to examine the evidence and make my recommendation. I ask that you remain here in your home until such time as I have made my decision.”

  “Where would I go?” she whispered to no one in particular.

  The constable left, with Ginny's maid returning immediately. Sitting next to Ginny, the young woman, which Ginny now knew was named Bess, spoke in a low voice.

  “I overheard them speaking, my lady.”

  As casual as possible, Ginny turned her head and spoke in a low voice as well. “And?” she asked, desperate for any information.

  “The dowager was spewing her usual venom. She told the constable how ungrateful you are and how you have refused to give her son an heir.”

  “Is that it? I've refused?” Ginny was incredulous, but it was the way it was in 1775. Only the woman was barren. It could never be her husband's fault. Not knowing much about birth control in this time period, it still seemed difficult that she could refuse. But her defense was unprovable, since it was proving that toward the end of his life, he never had sex with her. Quite the pickle she'd landed in... again.

  “I believe the constable was not entirely convinced of her argument. I heard him mutter something about bringing in a doctor.”

  Shaking her head, Ginny knew it was useless. Instead, she focused on her only option.

  “Bess, can you go to my family? Let them know what is going on. Tell them what the dowager is trying to do.”

  “Yes, my lady. I shall leave immediately.” The young maid left the room and Ginny shook her head. Her family had washed their hands of her when she married. Her attempts to speak to her mother on the few occasions she'd seen her went unheard. Her mother's advice was to produce an heir, then things would improve. Hardly helpful considering.

  Taking a deep breath, Ginny got up and left the room. She would hide in her bedroom until her mother-in-law left, and then, well, she just didn't know. She was living this life by the seat of her pants, so to speak, hoping that she wouldn't end up on the end of a long rope.

  Chapter 3

  The next few months flew by with alarming expediency. It was a whirlwind, but now Ginny knew her fate. Sitting in a coach, next to her father, Ginny considered her new life. The decision to send her to the West Indies, to become a servant in some nobleman's home was made entirely behind closed doors. No trial, no jury and certainly, no justice. Everyone wanted to preserve their re
putations and the easiest way to accomplish that was to make the main problem disappear. Society would chatter about the scandal for a while, but then the next scandal would hit and the story of Lady Gammage murdering her husband would fade into history.

  Ginny knew that Corliss's family was instrumental in keeping her from hanging. They wanted nothing more than to get on with their own lives and if that meant their own daughter became a slave in the Caribbean, so be it. She would board a ship sailing to St. Lucia. The ship, HMS Phoenix, was to transport her. The 20 gun British Navy frigate needed to return to the Caribbean to keep transport ships safe from piracy.

  Ginny bowed her head as she waited to board. The stories of conditions on board ships came back to her. Cramped quarters, bug and rodent infestations, no proper facilities, especially for a woman. Her skin crawled just thinking about where she would have to sleep, what she would have to eat and who she would have to protect herself against. It made Ginny wonder if living other people's lives would ever be fun.

  The carriage door opened and her father stood aside and held out his hand to her. Taking a deep breath, Ginny steeled herself against this fate and took her father's hand. Walking gingerly down the dock, Ginny was careful to avoid the garbage and filth that was so often associated with dock life.

  Her father never said a word, he simply held her arm and directed her to the correct ship. Looking up at the ship, Ginny saw the sailors preparing it for departure. The ship would leave soon, on the high tide. At the bottom of the gangplank, her father turned and finally spoke.

  “I wish you luck, my dear.”

  Ginny stared into her father's eyes, not seeing one ounce of remorse over this forced exile. As far as he was concerned, she deserved no sympathy. Having overheard a conversation he had with her mother, she knew where his loyalties lay. Her father felt that if she had only done her duty, and provided her husband with a son, then none of this would have happened.

  Giving him nothing in return, because he deserved nothing, Ginny climbed the gangplank on her own. She would not turn around, she would never look back. He had washed his hands of her and Ginny would never give him the satisfaction of knowing how scared and lonely she was.

  As she stepped onto the deck, an older gentlman, dressed in a military uniform stepped forward. His attention was turned toward the dock, not Ginny. Curiosity won out and she turned to follow his stare. Her father was already in the carriage, driving away from the dock where he'd just dumped his daughter. Nice, Ginny thought, rolling her eyes like a displeased teenager.

  Turning his attention back to his passenger, the man examined her closely. Keeping the eye contact, Ginny knew he had to be the captain. He commanded respect, through years of hard work, she suspected. Ginny strained to keep herself from squirming under his analysis.

  “Lady Gammage, I presume.” His voice was deep, quiet and soothing. At the moment, Ginny couldn't picture him yelling out orders to anyone. His face was tan, his eyes lined with age. The man stood over six feet tall, with wavy, black hair, peppered with white. He was handsome, for his age.

  “Yes. You must be the captain of this ship.” Ginny replied, keeping her chin up to stare him in the eye. She would not wilt... fear was her enemy.

  “I am Captain Northwood. If you would join me in my quarters, we have much to discuss.” Turning on his heel, he preceded her to the stairway leading below deck. Ginny followed automatically.

  ********

  Entering a large room at the front of the ship, Ginny glanced around. The captain's cabin was a picture of his personality: austere and orderly. There was little of a personal nature, with the desk covered in maps and the shelves filled with books on navigation and naval procedures. A single berth took up part of one side of the room, with a small oil lamp hanging from a hook above it. As it was still day, enough light entered through the windows, but the room felt gloomy.

  Clearing his throat, Captain Northwood directed Ginny to an available chair across from his desk. Although cluttered with maps, the desk still appeared neat. It took Ginny a moment to realize that the open maps where situated at perfect ninety degree angles, while those not in use were rolled up and stacked to the side. For some reason, the sight made Ginny even more nervous, as though this man would not be sympathetic to her needs.

  Northwood took the chair behind the desk and sat down. As the third son of some minor nobility in the north of England, his purchased naval commission had been his ticket out of the small village of his birth. His father had been very clear that he was to make his own way in the world, so after attending University, he went into the navy. Although his first commission was that of Lieutenant, he worked his way up to receive his own ship.

  “You seem to have made quite a name for yourself, Lady Gammage.” His voice was deep, and there was no humor in his eyes.

  “Yes, so it would seem,” she responded, not knowing what the man was waiting to hear. So far this adventure was very unlike the others. Mainly because she hadn't been accused of killing anyone, even after she had killed a man in Wyoming.

  “Did you know that your uncle and I attended University together?”

  His face was still unreadable. “No, I didn't know that. Were you friends?” she asked, hearing the desperation in her own voice and hating to sound so weak. All that had transpired so far was beyond her control. The loss of which still left her frazzled.

  “He is a good man. He helped me out of a dire situation once.”

  Ginny saw the man's eyes soften and was finally able to relax a bit. If what he said were true, there was no way the captain would leave her in some dank hold in the bottom of the ship.

  “I haven't seen my uncle in a long time. He and my father had some kind of falling out and haven't spoken since. Is he well?”

  “He is very well. His wife recently suffered an illness, but she is on the mend. Your cousins are growing up quickly.”

  For the first time all day, Ginny found something to smile about. Her memories of her father's brother were kind. She could remember him bringing Corliss peppermint as a child. It pained Ginny that Corliss hadn't made any effort to stay in touch with him, even during her darkest time when her own family had turned their backs.

  “I'm glad to hear it,” she said, the small smile touching her lips. “I miss them greatly.”

  Heaving a sigh, Captain Northwood made a decision. Although Thomas had asked him not to reveal too much to his niece, Northwood wanted her to know that not everyone had abandoned her during her marriage. “Your uncle... he was... is... very worried about you.”

  Ginny's smile grew larger. It wasn't precisely her that felt good, but rather Corliss. The girl had endured too much in her short marriage, and the turn it took wasn't much better. To hear that someone, anyone, cared enough about her to be worried was good to hear.

  Swallowing her tears, Ginny responded, “That, Captain, is very good to hear. Thank you for telling me.”

  Looking away for a moment to the window and out to sea, he said, “There is more. When your father had you betrothed to Lord Gammage, your uncle was beside himself. You see, Lord Gammage had a reputation for cruelty and your uncle feared for your well being. Your father would hear none of it and proceeded with the marriage.”

  Ginny searched her new memories and realized that her uncle had not attended her wedding. “Is that why he didn't come to the wedding?”

  Captain Northwood gave her a sad smile. “He was not invited. Your father would not allow it.”

  Ginny's face fell to her lap. “I didn't even know that until now.”

  She hadn't noticed the captain had come around the desk until his strong hand was on her shoulder. Ginny looked up at his handsome face, weathered after so many years at sea. His bright green eyes showed a depth of compassion she hadn't expected.

  “Your uncle does not blame you for what happened. Thomas was never one for playing in society's games. That is why we were such friends. My family would never have been good enough to socialize with
his. But he accepted my friendship because he understood my sincerity.”

  “He asked you to help me, right?” Ginny asked, seeing where this was going now. Northwood was sent to help her, to keep her from being some plantation owner's indentured servant, until she could somehow repay her debt to society.

  “That is correct. And although I know you are innocent and would have helped you anyway, I cannot disregard my duty to a man who I owe my very life to.”

  Releasing a steady breath, Ginny said, “Thank you. Nothing scared me more than the thought of living this entire journey in some dark, smelly brig.”

  “I have a cabin for you right next to mine. It is small, but clean and does not smell of bilge water.”

  The captain took her hand and directed her to the cabin right outside his door. The room measured no more than six by six, with almost half of it being a berth. There was a small wardrobe, but no desk or chair. Everything was firmly nailed down to the floor to keep them from crashing into each other during rough seas. On the berth sat her only concession: a small valise with some extra clothing and one book.