A Lesson in Forgiveness Read online

  “Lord Clarendon is among the guests. He has quite the reputation, he does.”

  “My mother said the same thing. Reputation for what, exactly?”

  “A rake, he is, miss. It is said he has slept with most of the married women of the ton. Now he needs a wife to produce a 'legitimate' heir to his title.”

  “Oh,” Ginny finally got it. He was a man whore and probably would continue to be such after he was married. Some of the books she read were coming back to her. The rake, libertine, lecher would be reformed by meeting the perfect woman. A woman of such heights that he would be soured to any other woman's attentions. Yeah, right.

  So, was this Lord Clarendon to be her mega-hunk? Ginny figured she would meet just about everyone during dinner that evening. Just then, at the thought of food, her stomach gurgled noisily. For Ginny, eating was never a problem.

  “Oh my, miss. You haven't eaten all day, have you? I will run downstairs and get you a tray. That way, we will have plenty of time to get you ready for dinner.” With that, Tabby the maid was gone. And Ginny was left wondering why it would take so damn long to get ready for dinner.

  Chapter 2

  When it was finally time to go to dinner, Tabby had pampered and primped Ginny to death. Her hair alone took over an hour, with dressing taking up another hour. In all fairness, Ginny was allowed some time to lay down and rest before having to present herself on a platter for all the eligible men to meet (or was that eat).

  There was a knock at her door, which Tabby immediately opened. Her parents were waiting for her to join them. They needed to show a united front: the desperate parents, the willing maiden, the sizable dowry. All these things would make Ginny, or Bethany, a much sought after prize in the marriage arena.

  Her dress was somewhat uncomfortable and completely impractical. First, there were so many layers to a gentlewoman's wardrobe as to be laughable. There were pantaloons, or what Ginny would call panties. Then a chemise, petticoats, stockings, and so on and so forth. Her shoes were merely slippers, which had no support. The dress itself was cut right under the breasts so if Ginny's new body had any tummy at all (like Ginny's own body did), a girl could easily hide that imperfection. Made of thin muslin, it was practically see through. Fortunately, with the dozen layers underneath, there wasn't any way to see any of it. The bodice was a square cut that showed the top of her cleavage.

  Her hair was done up with a thousand hair pins, that pulled and tugged and made her itch. As if it weren't enough, Tabby intertwined ribbons and flowers into the mass as well. Soft tendrils floated down around her face, often making her want to blow the pieces out of her line of sight. Ginny figured that wouldn't be very ladylike, so she resisted the urge.

  Walking stiffly behind her parents, a thousand rules went barreling through her head. Bethany had been drilled from the very beginning on how to act, what to say, which fork was which. Ginny's head was nearly exploding with all the information. It wasn't enough to be witty, oh no. You had to appear disinterested, while being witty. You could only dance with a gentleman twice, or there would be rumors. You must never be alone with a man, married or otherwise, unless he was very elderly or a relative.

  As their group entered the drawing room, where a large group had already gathered, Ginny found she was somewhat nervous. Not that she really cared what people thought about her, but she had some kind of undeniable feeling that if she disappointed her new parents, it would cut her like a knife. Dear God, Ginny thought grimly, what had these people done to this girl?

  Their host, Lord Whitmore, approached Ginny's new parents with another gentleman in tow. Ginny could feel her mother's back stiffen and wondered what had gotten her ire. Slightly craning her neck to see the other gentleman, Ginny was rendered breathless. Oh my God, oh my God, kept cycling through her head.

  The man, or should she say mega-hunk, was tall, well over six feet. He had broad shoulders and long limbs. His face was long, but perfectly proportioned to his body. He had clean cut hair, so black it almost appeared blue. His eyes were dark, probably brown, but Ginny couldn't tell from her angle. He had a straight patrician nose and beautiful white teeth. His smile was her undoing, as it gave him an irresistibly roguish look. This man had to be the one she was here to meet.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. Miss Hamilton. May I present Lord Clarendon.” Lord Clarendon executed a perfect bow, taking her mother's hand and lightly kissing the back of her fingers. Turning to her father, he gave another more curt bow.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Ginny noticed that he moved around her mother to align himself better with her. “And Miss Hamilton. May I say it is truly a pleasure,” Clarendon said with that roguish smile, bowing slightly and taking her hand to kiss her fingers. Ginny could feel the kiss all the way up her arm, stifling the silly giggle that almost escaped her mouth.

  “The pleasure is mine, my lord,” Ginny said almost breathless. He is a gorgeous specimen, she thought continuing to keep eye contact with his beautiful, smiling face. If he is a rake, he should know what he's doing.

  “Lord Clarendon, would you be so kind as to escort Miss Hamilton to dinner this evening?” Whitmore was no fool. He could see that the Hamilton girl was quite taken by a pretty face. His long time friend was in need of a wife and settling down. One girl was as good as another, especially when he knew that Clarendon was unlikely to be faithful anyway.

  Never taking his eyes off Ginny, Lord Clarendon smiled and said, “It would be my pleasure.”

  Ginny felt a tingling all the way to her toes. Offering his arm, Ginny placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to escort her toward the dining room. His arm was all muscle, strong and confident. She could feel, more than see, her parents behind her. Her mother's disapproval was like heat on her back. Ginny didn't care, but there was a little voice in her head cautioning her with all the rules of polite society. It was in Ginny's (no Bethany's) voice, so she wasn't worried about being schizophrenic, but it was getting quite annoying having to listen to it all the same.

  “Why is it that we have not yet met, Miss Hamilton? Have you not been presented yet?” His breath in her ear was intoxicating. It really was sad that she should react so strongly to him, after knowing him for all of two minutes. It came off as quite shallow. Just as Ginny would berate herself, she caught a whiff of his scent. Sandalwood and leather. Dear God, who cares if I'm shallow, she thought as they continued their trek to the dining room.

  “I have attended two seasons, my lord. I have a bad habit of being rather shy. You probably didn't notice me because I worked so well at blending in.” Ginny had to consider every word. But judging by her memories, Bethany was a wallflower of the highest extreme.

  “Hmmmm. Strange. I rather like to talk to the shy girls. You must have been very good indeed at blending in.” Ginny turned her head to see him smiling at her again. It was like having Hugh Jackman or George Clooney flirting with you. It just made one want to giggle.

  “I don't remember seeing you much, my lord. I can't imagine not noticing you.”

  “Oh, I am sure we attended some of the same soirées and balls. Some of them can be quite a crush, can they not?”

  “Indeed. It makes it rather unpleasant to attend sometimes. Of course, when one is trying not to be noticed, the more people the better.”

  “Do you wish not be noticed now?” he asked with no little subtlety, raising his eyebrow slightly.

  “I have no issues with you noticing me,” Ginny said without looking at him. It was outrageous flirting on her part, but she figured he was the one she was here to fall in love with, so she might as well keep things going. Her rulebook would cry foul, but at this point, Ginny needed to use more of her wits than rely on Bethany's years of instruction.

  “I am certainly glad to hear that, Miss Hamilton,” Clarendon stated as he pulled her chair out. Ginny noticed that her parents were sitting on the opposite side of the table, farther down. They would neither hear nor participate in any conversation
she had at dinner.

  Dinner was a bland affair. The first course was soup, which was some creamy potato leek concoction. Ginny was glad for it, since she had some recollection of the food they ate during this era, and the soup was likely going to be the last thing she ate tonight.

  The second course was some kind of fowl, covered in a rich, creamy sauce. Ginny tried the meat, thinking back to her own mother expounding on how you can't not like something until you try it. After a few bites, she figured she'd eaten enough to not cause talk. She did hope that the third course would have some vegetables or potatoes or something other than strange meat.

  In between courses, she was drawn into conversation with the woman to her left, a Mrs. Bradbury. The woman explained that her husband was the local squire and was an expert about the entire area. By expert, she meant gossip, and before long Ginny knew just about everything there was to know about local scandals, births, marriages and so on. Of course, Ginny didn't know any of the people she spoke about, so it seemed safer to just smile and look amazed by the antics of country folk.

  After the third course, Lord Clarendon began to engage her again in conversation. He was truly too beautiful for his own good, or for Ginny's own good. She could barely keep from staring at him or his smile. She was certain that he was taking it as encouragement.

  “Two seasons and not betrothed? How scandalous,” he said with a quirk of his mouth.

  “Indeed. I seem to be quite a disappointment to my parents. You need not worry, though. I'm not desperate enough to corner a notorious rake such as yourself.”

  “Miss Hamilton, you shame me. What would you know of my reputation?”

  “Not much. Just that you apparently have one. Oh, and my mother has been shooting you daggers throughout the entire meal.”

  He chuckled lightly. “Yes, I have noticed a certain... despair over our being seated together. I am quite surprised. I am not just a Viscount. My father is a duke.” A sadness came across his eyes as he reached and sipped from his wine glass. “I thought that was all the mothers of the ton cared about.”

  “Well, it matters not. I couldn't care less if you were the Prince Regent himself.”

  “Indeed,” he sounded rather perplexed, but mostly as if he didn't believe her. Ginny had decided during dinner that showing a lack of interest in him would be more fun. Lead him a merry chase instead of simply throwing herself at him. He didn't seem the type interested in anyone who was so plainly interested in him. Besides, she knew this way would be more entertaining.

  “Are we not supposed to speak about the weather? Or do we have any acquaintances in common? Those would be the safe topics between unmarried individuals,” she said, hoping he would chose an unsafe topic instead.

  “Would you care to discuss the latest gossip in London?” he asked, but Ginny shook her head vehemently.

  “I've enough of gossip.” Whispering so her other dinner partner couldn't hear, “Mrs. Bradbury has regaled me with quite enough.”

  She watched him run his tongue along his teeth. His look was that of wanting to be naughty. “Very well, Miss Hamilton. What would you like to talk about?”

  “Are you as notorious as reported?” her eyes twinkled, knowing he couldn't resist answering her question.

  “Do you find that gossip is entirely accurate?”

  “I would say only about ten percent of the time. However, it is almost always based on some reality.”

  Smiling, he answered, “Indeed. So now you may be relieved that I am only ten percent as notorious as you have heard.”

  Smiling back, Ginny responded, “How disappointing! You are far too handsome to be only ten percent of the rake I've heard tale of.”

  Laughing heartily and sipping from his wine glass once more, he stated, “I have a feeling that you and I will become good friends.”

  “I hope so, my lord,” was the last thing said before the host declared the meal had come to an end. Ginny's plate had largely gone untouched in the third course, as well as her wine glass. This last detail did not go unnoticed.

  “Did you not care for the wine?” Clarendon inquired as he assisted her from her chair.

  “I'm not much of a wine drinker, my lord. It causes me quite a headache the next day. I prefer other beverages.”

  Accepting his arm, he began to escort her from the room. “For instance, tea, perhaps?”

  “Tea is fine. Water is excellent. But when it comes to spirits, I have always found whiskey to be very palatable.”

  “Shocking, Miss Hamilton. Simply shocking. You must not let anyone hear such scandalous words.”

  Rolling her eyes at the ridiculous separation between the sexes, Ginny simply replied, “Then it will be our secret?”

  They reached the drawing room and Lord Clarendon released her hand. Grabbing it again, bowing over it and kissing the fingers lightly, he looked into her eyes. “Of course. Our own little secret.” With a smile, he walked toward the study where the men had gathered and Ginny turned at her mother's throat clearing to enter the drawing room.

  Taking a seat next to her mother on one of the settees, Ginny smiled to herself. This is definitely going to be more fun than I realized, she thought, waiting for her mother to set her down over her being so intimate with a notorious rake. It didn't take long before her mother was lecturing her. Ginny simply continued to imagine what the sex would be like with the Viscount Clarendon.

  After an hour of listening to her mother, Ginny wondered how long they would have to sit in this hen house before she could go to bed. Suddenly, the men reappeared and the party begun anew. Sighing to herself, Ginny realized it would be awhile before she got her wish.

  Standing up, stretching discreetly, Ginny wandered over to the window, hoping that Clarendon would join her for some more witty repartee. She was quite surprised when Lord Whitmore joined her instead.

  “Did you enjoy the meal, Miss Hamilton?” he asked, not looking at her, but looking out the same window she had been.

  “Yes, it was lovely,” she replied, facing him and smiling.

  “I noticed that you did not eat very much.”

  “It has been a long day, my lord. I'm just a little tired. I wouldn't want you to think it was the food.”

  Whitmore turned his head and regarded her carefully. He had gotten the impression that the reason she ate so little was because she was busy paying too much attention to her dinner guest. Not that he would think she would admit to that. Keeping his face schooled into an impression of peace, he said, “I am glad to hear it. My cook takes a lot of pride in her creations.”

  “As she should. The soup was excellent. I am not one for rich sauces, but it was quite tasty none the less.” Ginny was surprised to feel a certain calmness. Lord Whitmore didn't come off as snooty or arrogant as one would expect in a man of his title. Then again, neither did Lord Clarendon, which was probably why they were friends.

  Turning his head back to the window, he said, “I noticed that you and Lord Clarendon were quite engaged during the meal.”

  “Yes. He is a witty conversationalist. I enjoyed our discussion immensely.”

  Turning to her, raising an eyebrow, he smiled. “Yes, he can be quite... witty. You should be careful, though. He does not always know how to school his discussions toward appropriate topics.”

  “Good. I'm quite tired of 'appropriate topics'.”

  “Indeed.” She felt him stiffen. Alarmed by the change in his demeanor, she watched him carefully. In Ginny's time, people would just say what they think or feel, sometimes without regard to the consequences. God knew she'd done that herself often enough. Now she was in a time when everything was spoken around, innuendo or reference. Certain topics were completely taboo, for anyone. Many more were only taboo to unmarried women.

  Turning to face her dead on, his eyebrows knitted together, he meant to make himself very clear. Speaking more harshly than perhaps required, he said, “Miss Hamilton. I will not abide inappropriate behavior, especially from the da
ughter of one of my guests. I expect no scandals from my house parties. Do I make myself clear?”

  Ginny was shocked to feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. All the rules kept battling her instincts inside her head. As demurely as possible, holding in the anger she felt, she simply replied, “I understand.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned to leave when Ginny let slip, “Do you plan to talk to Lord Clarendon as well?” Ginny knew she should have just let it go, but she wouldn't be Ginny if she had.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Turning toward him once again, trying to look serene despite being intensely pissed, she asked again, “Do you plan to inform Lord Clarendon of your 'no scandals' rule as well. Or would it only be my fault should a scandal arise due to our conversations on 'inappropriate topics'?”

  Ginny watched him quirk his mouth to a smile and raise his eyebrow in response. “I suppose you are correct, Miss Hamilton. I shall discuss this with Lord Clarendon. I would not want any misunderstandings. Thank you for your suggestion.”

  Damn, he's good, she thought. Even though she knew she'd gotten under his skin, he was able to turn it around and make her feel like she'd been wrong. It fascinated Ginny when someone could hide his feelings so well. Recognizing the discipline he had and appreciating the effort it took, she smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Lord Whitmore.”

  He bowed his head slightly and left her side. Not two seconds later, her mother came strolling over, grabbed her arm and announced that it was late and they should retire. Before leaving the room, Ginny glanced over at their host, who was speaking in hushed tones to Mr. and Mrs. Bradbury. Catching his eye, she smiled and tilted her head, hoping it looked like she was conceding this round, but to expect more. Ginny didn't like to lose.

  Chapter 3

  Ginny woke up the next morning feeling somewhat refreshed. She had no idea what time it was, but the sun had come up so it must have been after eight o'clock. Using the bell pull, she summoned her maid to help her get ready. It still goaded Ginny to require help with dressing, but there were too many buttons or ribbons or stays that needed attention for her to do alone.