A Lesson in Passion

by Jennifer Connors

  “There. The house. Oh, my, how beautiful.” The woman was practically hanging out the window. “Come, Bethany and look. I do believe that Lord Whitmore is unmarried,” she said looking to her husband for confirmation.

  “Yes, dear, he is unmarried, but I would not even try to make a match there. I am told he is not interested in marrying.”

  “He has no heir, therefore, he must be interested in marrying,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “There will be enough marriageable men there for our daughter to choose from. Lord Whitmore is our host. Do not disturb him with your plans.” Ginny could tell by the look on his face that he meant what he said and he would broach no argument. Apparently, the woman knew this as well.

  “Very well, dear. I am told that Lord Clarendon will be in attendance as well. Although his reputation is most disturbing.”

  The two continued to discuss the possibilities and argue their pros and cons. Ginny, smartly, kept her mouth shut and listened. She had yet to even know who she was, so she wasn't about to offer up any advice. Ginny did want to know what was so disturbing about Lord Clarendon's reputation. It seemed an interesting topic, rather than how much money each unattached man brought to the table.

  The feel of the carriage changed suddenly as they approached the house. Instead of the dirt road, they now rode on cobblestones. Ginny wasn't paying much attention, so when the carriage did finally stop, she was nearly thrown forward onto her parent's laps. Her mother gave her another stern look, while her father pretended not to notice. Before anyone could say anything, the door was opened and small steps lowered. Ginny's new father got out first, turning to assist her new mother down the steps. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ginny got up to exit as well. Grabbing her new father's hand, Ginny got her first look at the house.

  House was not the word she would use. Perhaps, mansion or manor, but definitely not house. The carriage had entered some type of courtyard, with stone steps that led to huge double doors. Her new parents led the way up the stairs into an entrance hall that was probably bigger than Ginny's whole house in her time. The floors were marble tile, alternating black and white. In the center of the room, there was a beautiful inlay of a coat of arms, with dark reds and greens.

  There was little furniture in the cavernous hall. Only a few benches and tables, set back against the walls. The grand staircase was in the center of the room, a good thirty feet from the doors. It looked like mahogany, darkly stained and richly ornamented with huge finial balls on either side. Ginny's eyes must have been open wide as she perused the entranceway because her new mother snapped her fan and hit her in the arm.

  “Close your gaping mouth,” she hissed at her as a man came from behind the stairs and started in their direction.

  Her father was the first to speak. “Good afternoon. Lord Whitmore, I presume.”

  “Indeed. You must be Mr. Hamilton. It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, sir.” Lord Whitmore, Ginny observed, was probably in his early to mid-thirties. His hair was a rich brown color, not at all thinning from the front, and trimmed short. He had almond shaped eyes and a strong jawline. Overall, Ginny would consider him good looking, but not necessarily “mega-hunkish.” He was trim, but not overly muscled, which didn't lend to the usual romance hero. No, Ginny decided, he probably isn't who I'm here to “fall in love with.”

  “Please allow me to introduce my wife,” new dad turned so Lord Whitmore could kiss her hand.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hamilton.”

  “The pleasure is entirely mine, my lord.” New mom looked like she just might burst. Ginny felt herself smiling over the thought, as she couldn't quite understand the excitement. He wasn't a rock star after all.

  “And of course, our daughter, Bethany,” new dad beamed with pride.

  Lord Whitmore turned his attention toward Ginny. His eyes, she could now see, were an incredible shade of green. Bright and vibrant, reminding her of Scotland. That thought made her a little sad. “It is a great pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Hamilton.”

  “You have a beautiful home, Lord Whitmore. I look forward to seeing the rest of it,” Ginny stated, not lying. She was really looking forward to seeing more of this house/mansion. “I've heard the gardens are especially lovely this time of year.” Ginny heard the words leaving her mouth, but didn't know where they came from. Perhaps a bit of Bethany was popping out.

  “Thank you. I am rather fond of my gardens. Perhaps you will permit me to escort you later,” he smiled as he took her hand and brushed a light kiss on the backs of her fingers. “Now, please allow my housekeeper to show you to your rooms. I'm sure you are tired after such a long journey.” Whitmore turned toward a small, round woman.

  “Thank you, my lord. We are most appreciative,” her new father said as he took his wife's arm.

  “I have a cold luncheon waiting in the dining room when you are refreshed,” Whitmore said hospitably.

  As he walked away, Ginny noticed his butt. Raising an eyebrow, she thought it looked pretty nice in his tight fitting pants. As a matter of fact, she rather liked the whole outfit, with the coat and boots. She just might like this time period after all.

  The housekeeper wasted no time showing them to their rooms. Ginny had her own room, on the second floor with a window facing the infamous gardens. As she looked out her window, she was in awe. They really were beautiful. The housekeeper noticed her attention and said, “Lord Whitmore is famous for his gardens you know. He employs twenty gardeners to maintain it.”

  “I can tell. They look outstanding. I'm happy to have a room with a view of them.”

  “Your maid arrived before you and has everything put away. Do you wish me to call her up?” the housekeeper asked. The woman was a bundle of energy, not able to stop moving for even a moment. Her face was round and her eyes were kind.

  “Thank you,” was all Ginny said, wondering what her maid would do to her.

  “Very good, miss,” the housekeeper said as she flitted from the room. For the first time since popping into another life, Ginny was alone. She wondered if she would remember some details of her new life before having to play the part. She also wondered if she would ever see her real home again.