A Lesson in Friendship

by Jennifer Connors

  Blushing, Penelope responded, “I am much looking forward to this week.”

  The ladies were called back to be reintroduced to their hostess. After which, all the families were shown to their rooms and left to freshen up before an early supper.

  “I am afraid that we keep country hours here. My late husband never liked to wait for his supper, so I have grown accustomed to eating early. I hope that will not be an inconvenience.”

  Lady Weston, trying to appear generous, stated, “Of course not, dear. We are all grateful for your hospitality.”

  Ginny's room was warm and comfortable. The large bed was covered in fabrics of red and yellow. There was a wardrobe and vanity made of dark wood. Large, colorful rugs covered the floor and her window had a view of the garden. As she stared at the view, Ginny wondered how long she could wait before asking to explore. Only being a few years older than herself, Lady Hopewell probably wouldn't mind. And her mother would want to rest after the carriage ride, so what else was there to do?

  Leaving her chamber, Ginny went to the room that she remembered Penelope being assigned. Knocking lightly, the door opened immediately, a pair of brown eyes behind silver glasses peeking out.

  “Oh, Sarah, what brings you already?”

  “I want to explore the castle walls. Want to come?”

  Eyes widening in surprise, she answered, “Yes, please.” Returning with her pelisse and gloves, Penelope and Ginny made their way down the steps to find their hostess. The butler directed them to a small parlor in the back of the house. They found their hostess sitting in the sunlight of large window, working on embroidery.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Lady Hopewell, but Penelope and I were wondering if we could have a look at your castle walls.”

  “Oh, they are rather spectacular, are they not? My late husband had them restored to their former glory. When he first bought this house, he had all the stones of the keep taken down to help rebuild the walls. Then he had the manor house built inside. That is how I am able to live here, since the house was not entailed.”

  Ginny was sincere when she said, “Your house is beautiful, but those walls are magnificent. I've never seen anything like them before.”

  Taking on a wistful look, Lady Hopewell said, “I believe you and my husband would have been the best of friends, Lady Sarah. He took great pride in this home, more so than those attached to his title.”

  “He sounds like he was a good man, my lady.”

  “He was kindness and generosity itself. I do miss him greatly.” Lady Hopewell glanced out the window at something in the distance. She seemed to be reminding herself of some distant memory, not to be shared with her present company. Coming out of her reminiscing, she stated, “Please feel free to have a look around. My husband made sure that the structure was solid and safe. Just be careful with your footing, as the stones can get slippery at times.”

  The girls thanked their hostess and made their way outside. As they inspected the structure from every possible angle, Ginny thought how she'd like to have her camera with her. During her many travels during the 20 th and 21 st centuries, one of her favorite things to see were ruins. The thought of standing where a civilization thrived thousands of years before was humbling.

  Standing on the walkway on the top of the wall, Ginny heard Sarah's name being called. Looking over the wall, into the garden, she saw Lord Conway and Lord Devon making their way up the narrow steps to join them.

  With his roguish half smile, Devon asked, “You ladies do not fear this height? With the wind blowing, it seems unsteady to be about as such.”

  Laughing, Ginny asked, “Are you scared, Lord Devon?”

  Raising an eyebrow in challenge, he responded, “Of course not, my lady. I am here to save any damsels in distress, not to be saved by said damsels.”

  “Penelope, are you distressed?” Ginny asked her friend.

  With a courage she hadn't yet exhibited, Penelope said, “No, I am quite fine. The views are delightful and the breeze is refreshing.”

  Turning her head to regard Devon once again, Ginny said, “There you have it, my lord. No damsels in distress. But if you're willing to wait until later, maybe I can get my mother up here and you can save her.”

  “As a gentleman, I would wholeheartedly accept the challenge. However, as a logical sort of man, can we try to keep her from becoming distressed?”

  Everyone laughed, except Lord Conway, who had been watching the exchange with a jaundiced eye. When Penelope invited Devon further down the wall to witness a stunning view she'd discovered, Ginny walked to stand beside her soon-to-be fiancé. Sensing his displeasure, she went about to make things right.

  “Everything alright, Oliver? You look angry.” She kept her voice light, trying to keep him from getting any madder.

  “Everything is fine, Sarah. Why do you ask?” Like a toddler who knew that if he didn't look, he couldn't be seen, Oliver refused to look at her. Rolling her eyes, Ginny stepped right in front of him, forcing him to give her his eyes.

  “I ask because you are acting like a child. Did I do something wrong? Should I apologize because right now I'm clueless.”

  “Clueless?” he asked, raising his eyebrow and attempting to look superior.

  “Clueless. As in I haven't a clue as to why you're mad.”

  “Your vernacular is getting more base by the minute, Sarah. Is this how you conduct yourself in public?”

  Without another word, Ginny walked away. If he wanted to be a child, then she would let him stew in his own juices for a while. After only a few steps, she felt his hand on her shoulder, halting her escape.

  Leaning his head down, whispering in her ear, he said, “Please stay.”

  Ginny hated to admit that shivers went up and down her body from his closeness. His warm, minty breath against her ear was tantalizing, but she still knew she'd hold something back. Why couldn't she be ready?

  Without turning to face him, she asked, “Will you act like a grown up?”

  His face still close to hers, Ginny could hear the smug smile in his voice. “I can be mature, when the moment calls for it.”

  “And the last few moments didn't call for it?” she asked, slowly melting toward his broad chest.

  “I admit that I am a jealous man, Sarah. If you insist on flirting with Devon, you should know that I will not take it well.”

  Ginny chuckled. “Flirting? I thought we were talking.”

  “I am a desperate man, Sarah. I have wanted you for too long to be trifled with.”

  With a confused look, Ginny turned to face her adversary. “So, if I give in and marry you and allow you into my bed, I can talk to other men without you getting all crazy on me?”

  Oliver looked as if he gave the question great thought. After a minute, he regarded her as he stated matter of factly, “No, not even then.”

  Ginny burst out laughing, with Oliver joining in. Taking a deep breath, Ginny said, “You are impossible, my lord.”

  “But can you forgive me my jealous nature?”

  Acting as if thinking as hard as he did, she finally said, “No, I don't think so.”

  “It shall be a long rest of our lives then, to be sure.”

  The pair strolled over to join the others, still exploring the medieval walls. The group joked with one another and for the first time in this life, Ginny experienced a settled feeling. For most of the time, she was floating in water, barely keeping from drowning. Now she'd found her island and was making headway into building a shelter. Knowing that it couldn't last was no longer foremost in her mind. She was just enjoying being herself.

  Chapter 17

  Charlotte had been pacing her room nervously since their arrival. She hadn't seen Wilhelm on the road, and she couldn't very well ask their hostess if he'd arrived. Considering her options, she decided to take a walk in the garden, in the hopes that she might bump into him.

  Entering the gardens from the back terrace, Charlotte thought that all the beautiful spring flo
wers would relax her, but her insides twisted even more with each step. Could she do it? Could she have an affair with Wilhelm, without any commitment or declaration? She was torn between two feelings. On the one hand, whenever they were together, Charlotte swore she would die if he didn't touch her, kiss her. On the other hand, after being married to a vicar, the thought of allowing a man to take liberties with her body outside of marriage was sinful and decadent. Mr. Stevens would be so disappointed in her.

  Exasperated at her own churlishness, Charlotte wondered what her sister would do. Strangely enough, although having been married, Charlotte would swear that her younger sister had more experience with men than she. Remembering how the girl went to a party for experienced society only, Charlotte wished she could be that brave. To stand up for herself for once would not only be refreshing, it would go a long way in bolstering her fragile self-esteem. What she needed to do was make a decision and stick with it, no matter the outcome. But which decision would she make?

  Standing by a fountain with an angelic boy holding a water pitcher, Charlotte breathed in the scent of a dozen different kinds of flowers. It being spring, the garden was alive with color. Her senses took in everything from the sound her feet made on the gravel pathway to the tweeting of hundred birds in the tall trees. What she didn't sense or expect was a man to grab her and pull her behind a tall hedge.

  Turning abruptly to put the young buck in his place, she had only a moment to register Wilhelm before his lips descended on her own. His hands rubbed her shoulders and his lips caressed her as they stood hiding among the foliage. When his hand cupped her cheek and gently urged her mouth open, it took no prompting for Wilhelm to slide his tongue into her with carnal promise.

  As Charlotte enjoyed his attentions, she realized that the decision was made. After two years of marriage, she'd never experienced anything like what this man offered. The mechanics had to be the same, but Charlotte doubted that making love to Wilhelm would resemble anything she'd had with her husband. Just as his mouth made love to hers, she instinctively knew that her body would respond differently to his touch.

  When he finally pulled away, smug smile on his face over her bemused look, he whispered against her cheek. “It seems a lifetime since I was able to kiss you.”

  He admired her glassy eyed expression, using his fingers to caress her blushed cheeks. Charlotte, on the other hand, was incapable of coherent thought, let alone the ability to speak. Every fiber of her being longed for the kissing to continue, all the way to its foregone conclusion.

  Like a wanton, she leaned closer to him, placing her hands on his chest, willing him to take her mouth once again. Laughing huskily, before Wilhelm could capitulate, he said, “Will you welcome me to your room tonight, Lottie?”

  At the use of her nickname, she smiled. They may not be married or engaged, but there was a familiarity between them. It would have to be enough, since Charlotte was unwilling to wait any longer to discover the mysteries of the bedroom that had so far eluded her.

  Boldly placing her soft lips on his, standing on tip toe to do it, she nodded her head and replied, “Yes.”

  She could feel his smile beneath her lips. Pulling away from her mouth, he kissed a line up her jaw to her ear. Whispering in her ear, he felt her shiver under his hands. “I cannot think of another woman who has left me feeling this way. I have never wanted a woman as I want you, Lottie.”

  Feeling his control slipping, he pulled away, still steadying her with his hands. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to take any further liberties here. Can you not wait until tonight, my little vixen?”

  A genuine smile came across her face. Charlotte had been trained in the art of hiding one's true feelings. A talent she would not need when alone in this man's presence. “I will try to wait, but it will be so difficult.”

  Giving her a half smile, he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. Escorting her back toward the house, he said, “I know it will be a trial, but what can one do?”

  Charlotte realized all at once that she'd made the right decision and she would never regret it. Not as long as her lonely miserable life lasted.

  ********

  Martin MacHugh, the Viscount Townshend, had rarely felt the piercing jealousy as he had when he saw his friend shamelessly flirting with Lady Penelope. Granted, Devon was known as the biggest flirt of all the ton, but how dare he use his gift on the only lady Martin had ever shown interest in. Watching from his bedroom window, he spotted the group walking along the top of the stone wall. He noticed how Devon offered her his arm as they strolled along, pointing out interesting views.

  Marching out of his bedroom and finding the nearest exit to the outside, Martin approached one of the staircases to the top of the wall. The familiar panic settled across him, like a suffocating blanket in the heat of summer. He strained to breathe while his body started to shake and sweat.

  Few people knew of his fear of heights. Since he was a child, his often cruel father would play awful tricks on him. When he was still small, no more than five years old, his father took him to the roof of their ancestral home. At that time, his grandfather still held the title, so their presence in the home was that of guests. His father's pride was so often pricked by his own father making him feel as such in the home that he grew up in that he took it out on Martin.

  Standing on the roof, Martin could still remember looking over the edge and backing away, when his father pushed him forward, as if to send him over the side. His father grabbed him at the last second, but that feeling of panic and betrayal never left him. Even without understanding death, Martin knew that what his father had done was so malicious, he had never been able to reconcile himself with it.

  After wasting the fortune he'd received from his mother's dowry, his father died at the hands of another gentleman who had accused him of cheating at cards. Ironically, his mother only seemed happier to have her husband gone, and the pair went to live with her father in Derbyshire. It was there that Martin thrived, learning about plants and botany.

  What he never forgot was his father's cruelty. And now, it kept him from pulling Penelope away from Devon and taking her somewhere alone with him. Gnashing his teeth in frustration, he had never experienced such inadequacy.

  Suddenly, he heard his name being called. It came from the sweetest voice and it was approaching him from above. Looking up, Martin saw that Penelope was climbing down the steps to join him. As if opening his eyes to a new dawn, Martin was elated to see that she had chosen him over the more outgoing and handsome Devon.

  “There you are, Lord Townshend. I had begun to wonder if you had arrived with your friends.”

  Wiping the sweat from his brow, he graced her with a rare smile. “I was cleaning up before presenting myself to you. I should think you would not have cared for me covered in dust.”

  Smiling in response, Penelope replied, “I would think you handsome even covered in dust, my lord. I was hoping we could wander the garden. I should like to see how many varieties of flora Lady Hopewell keeps.”

  Although said cavalierly, Martin's heart lurched at the mention that she found him handsome. Unlike his friends, he had never considered himself so charming and good looking to attract many females. Mostly he thought that women flirted with him because they thought he was rich. He was not as easy going as his friends. It was always a challenge to meet new people or be among large groups. Martin preferred the comforts of a few friends and quiet evening.

  Taking her hand into the crook of his arm, the pair wandered through the extensive gardens admiring the colors. Never had he been so at ease with a woman, finding it easy to converse on any number of topics. She was not classically beautiful like Lady Sarah, but she had a depth to her personality that was unheard of among the débutantes of the ton.

  “And is your mother well, my lord,” she asked, glancing away at a beautiful peony grouping.

  At the mention of his mother, his chest constricted. The woman who virtually owned hi
m, provided him his wealth, would not approve of the girl he walked with. She would cut him off without a second thought, and he would be penniless until her death.

  “Well, I think. It has been some time since I have visited her.” His voice mimicked his tension.

  Picking up on his tone, Penelope asked, “Are you well, my lord? Have you and your mother had a falling out?”

  Looking into her fathomless brown eyes, made larger by the spectacles she wore, Martin admitted, “My mother and I often do not see eye to eye, Penny. And I thought that when we are alone you were to call me Martin.”

  Blushing at his familiarity, she nodded. He saw her bite her lip, as if to keep herself from saying something else. It disconcerted him to realize that there was nothing more that he wanted to know than what she had been about to say.