A Lesson in Passion (31 page)

Her breathing was shallow and sweat began to
form on her forehead. The carriage was small and she was not the
only occupant. Across from her were two people, a man and a woman,
both older, with graying hair and wrinkles around their eyes and
mouths. Both were asleep, the man slumped against the carriage and
the woman slumped against the man.

Ginny began to examine the rest of the
interior. The rocking continued, except now, it wasn't so soothing.
There were doors on either side, with small windows that were
currently open to allow for air flow. Right beside each door was
what looked like an oil lamp, although neither was lit since it was
daytime. Everything was a stained dark wood, except for the
cushions, which were a lively red velvety material.

Staring out the small windows, Ginny saw a
whole lot of nothing, trees and fields along a seemingly never
ending dirt road. No highway, no cars, no telephone poles and no
houses.

She closed her eyes and
took a deep, shaky breath.
Where the hell
am I now?
she wondered, keeping her eyes
closed against the reality that she was still not home. Ginny had
just lived a strange woman's life in medieval times. She was a
romance novel heroine, saving the day and winning the hunk. Of
course, that wasn't her real life. The life she left behind in
2008, working as a physician's assistant and living the single life
of a thirty year old.

The last thing Ginny could
remember was walking away from Ian, her mega-hunk, right before she
passed out.
Passed out?
s
he thought disbelievingly.
More like passed to yet another person's life I
will have to live.

Reaching up with both
hands, covered in fine, soft gloves, Ginny began to rub her
face.
If I keep my eyes closed, maybe it
will all go away. I will be back where I'm supposed to be and Lisa
and I can have a big laugh over my outrageous dreams.

It was not to be Ginny's lucky day. Slowly,
she opened her eyes to see the two other occupants of the carriage
staring at her. The woman had large brown eyes and a stern,
down-turned mouth. The man, whose salt and pepper hair was cut very
short, had sympathetic green eyes and a kindly face. Ginny had
hoped to remember some information on who she was currently
occupying before she had to speak, but since it wasn't her lucky
day, she wasn't to be disappointed.

“You will not fade in the background here,
young lady. It is your responsibility to make a fine marriage and
no man wants a woman who cannot hold a conversation,” said the
stern looking woman. Ginny surmised she was her mother and she was
not happy with her.

The man held a hand over the woman's hand
and said more gently, “We don't want you to be alone, Bethany. We
want you to have a happy life. Your mother and I want to see you
settled before...” Her father, she presumed, didn't finish his
sentence. It was probably a conversation he'd already had with her
on many occasions.

Ginny didn't know what exactly was going on,
but she could figure most of it out. “Yes, sir,” was all she
replied, hoping it would put an end to the conversation and she
could sit quietly waiting to find out who she was. Again, she was
not so lucky.

“Two seasons! Two! You should be betrothed
by now. There were so many fine gentlemen available. If you would
just talk to some of them. I can count how many times you danced on
one hand. You are such a beautiful girl.” Her mother let out an
exasperated sigh and turned to look out the carriage window.

“I will try harder, mother,” she replied,
figuring it was what she was supposed to say. Since the woman
continued to stare out the window, Ginny figured it was also the
same thing she'd said in the past. Or rather, the same thing
Bethany had said. Before she could expound more on a subject she
was completely unfamiliar with, there was a knock from above.

“There now, it seems we have almost
arrived,” her father smiled openly. “It will be a pleasure to
finally meet Lord Whitmore in person. His correspondence has been
most helpful.”

Ginny had no idea what that meant, so she
decided to keep quiet. The carriage turned down a long drive and
suddenly her mother looked almost excited.

“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.