A Lesson in Forgiveness (18 page)

Ginny was most surprised by her sister-in-law's approval. Evelyn had even suggested the arbitrary date as a last stand. If he couldn't be there for that one date, he didn't deserve his wife's fidelity. After the year of hell he'd put her through, why should Ginny care about their wedding vows?

It was a horrible time of year to be in London. Hot, sticky weather only emphasized the existing pollution. Ginny had been to modern London several times. It was a beautiful city, but one couldn't escape the bad air. It seemed strange that two hundred years earlier, it was just as polluted, maybe even worse. In the future it was vehicles, in the past, factories with no emission standards. One had to avoid garbage and human waste being thrown from windows and into gutters. It was said that someone could walk across the Thames and not get his feet wet on all the garbage.

Regardless, Ginny couldn't have an illicit affair in the country, not in front of her husband's staff. As much as what he did hurt and humiliated her, she couldn't be so callous in return. It was a matter of pride on her part, as well as the fact that she figured he'd be back someday and they would have to live together.

And so, her sister-in-law Evelyn had not only sanctioned the rendezvous, but encouraged it. She offered her home and staff, who were extremely loyal and not prone to gossip. Well, not as much gossip anyway. Ginny felt comfortable having her fun, enjoying her friend's company and avoiding the meddling old ladies of the
ton
.

She and Miles had already crossed certain boundaries before this night. The first time he kissed her, they were with a large group at Vauxhall Gardens, towards the end of the little season. Ginny, depressed over her lack of finances to pay off even the most basic of bills, was not inclined to even attend the season. Of course, Evelyn wouldn't hear of it and insisted that she come and stay with her. Even bought her some new dresses that Ginny tried to decline, but her sister-in-law persisted in making her take.

It was almost time to return to the country, when during a dinner party Miles suggested the outing. “It would be good for all of us to get out. Vauxhall will be closing down soon, so we need to take advantage. There won't be a crush, with many too skittish of the cold.”
“That is a delightful idea, Lord Clarendon. Collingsford and I have never been together, have we dear?”

“No, I believe not.”

“We should invite a large group. It is infinitely more fun with many, rather than fewer.” Evelyn was already organizing, a favorite pastime of hers.

And that was how it happened. Without so much as a word from Ginny, she was invited and accepted the invitation. During the entire conversation, her only question was:
What the hell is Vauxhall?
She remembered vaguely reading about it in one of the romance novels she'd read, but couldn't quite place it.

The next evening, leaving in a carriage with Evelyn, her husband and Lord Clarendon, Ginny was treated to her first view of the pleasure gardens of Vauxhall. Holding Miles' arm, Ginny viewed the gardens, the supper boxes and the grand rotunda. There was an orchestra, playing a variety of tunes that many guests were dancing to. There were several paths, lit by lamps, that led off to who knew where,

but Ginny could likely guess. All the guests were dressed in masks and domino costumes.

All in all, it reminded Ginny of a country fair, without the ferris wheel. There were booths hawking an assortment of items, roving entertainers: jugglers, acrobats and such. There were even pickpockets and petty thieves, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. The mood was festive, but Ginny hadn't been in a festive mood since the summer.

Sitting in their supper box, drinking some dreadful punch, Miles tried to cheer her up. “Perhaps you would like to see the gardens?” He lifted an eyebrow to her.

“That would be difficult at night, my lord.” Lifting an eyebrow right back.

A look came across his face that suggested he was well aware of what time of day it was. Ginny knew she was supposed to flirt, be clever with her refusal, but it had never been in Ginny's nature to beat around the bush. So they stared at each, challenging the other to come up with the next response.

“Would you care for more to drink?”

Squinting her eyes slightly, disappointed in his lame riposte, she answered, “No, thank you. If you would like to go for a walk, please don't let me stop you.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left you alone?”
Ouch
, she thought,
low blow
.

“You wouldn't be the first, Miles.” Ginny turned slightly to stare out at the few folks still milling around the supper boxes. Most had taken off for the dancing or other entertainments.

“That was not what I meant.” Turning back to look at him, Ginny instantly felt bad for her assumption. Miles looked forlorn, his face drawn in shame. Obviously, he hadn't meant to cut her so deeply. “Please accept my apology. I only wanted to make you smile again. It is a sight I have not seen in some time.”

Casting her gaze to her lap, she replied, “I'm sorry. I guess I'm just a bit oversensitive right now. I think I would like to go for a walk.” She smiled back, not quite happy, but aiming for reassurance.

They wandered down the dark paths through the gardens, occasionally coming across two bodies in shadow. Not being able to

resist after the first time, Ginny turned to Miles and asked, “What type of foliage do you imagine that was, my lord?”

Smiling, but never turning to look at her, he replied, “I am not familiar with flora that is quite so... boisterous.”

“Are there wild animals loose in the gardens?” To emphasize her fear, Ginny put her hand to her breast.

“It would seem so, Lady Whitmore. A very rare species of rutting pig, perhaps.”

“You may be right. I believe I heard it snorting.” With that, Ginny found herself laughing.

The sound of her laughter was intoxicating to Miles. He had spent the last few months trying to make up for his stupidity in letting her get away.  At first, Miles would never have considered cuckolding his good friend, even with Whitmore's behavior being so unseemly. But, after several months of close contact with Bethany, he felt his devotion to friendship wearing down. He had wanted her for a long time, but now it bordered on physical pain. Regardless, he needed her to make the first overture, not wanting her to think that his behavior was an elaborate plan to seduce her.

Miles Clarendon was never known for his charity. If he was showering a woman with attention, it was for one purpose only. Bethany had been the exception. As much as he wanted her, he never made any sexual advances toward her. He feared losing the friendship they'd developed. Not that the
ton
weren't gossiping and speculating. Especially since he was not reported to be with any other woman, not even the convenient women of Miss Love's fine establishment.

Finding an empty bench, Miles offered her a seat. Ginny stopped just short of it and turned around to face him. In the dark of the alcove, where the light from the gaslamps couldn't reach, Ginny put her hands on his chest.
What are you doing?
she asked herself. Miles had been a kind friend, and she was somewhat leery of losing that relationship, but she wanted to feel good, even for a moment.

Miles was left speechless for a moment. Ginny could feel his uneven breathing under her hands. When his senses returned, he asked, “Are you unwell, Bethany?”

“No, I'm alright.” Ginny took a deep breath and stared at the shadow of his face. Reaching her hand up behind his neck, she gently

pulled his head down to hers. “I wouldn't want to compromise you, Miles.”

He could hear the laughter in her voice. Before he could think better of it, he placed his lips on hers. Gently rubbing his lips to hers, he moved his hands to her waist, wrapping them around her back. When she opened her mouth and touched his lips with her tongue, Miles was lost. His passion exploded, revealing to Ginny just how much he'd wanted this and everything or anything else she would give him. It was nearly overwhelming, for both of them.

Miles felt himself moving her to the bench. It was like some otherworldly, out of body experience, where he was merely a spectator, not the perpetrator. He grew so hard as to be painful, cupping her bottom up to rub against him provocatively. When Ginny sighed into his mouth, he lost his control, laying her down on the bench, ready to lift her skirts and plant himself inside her.

It was at that precipitous moment, that the famous Vauxhall Garden fireworks began, bathing them in light. They were no longer able to hide in darkness, now having to face the fact that she was married, and he was a rake. It had all the power of a bucket of ice water in defeating their passion. He pulled away sharply and turned around. Running his hands through his short hair, he murmured to her, “I am sorry.”

Ginny sat up on the bench, feeling like she'd put him in an impossible position. She wasn't an idiot, she knew he wanted her. She also knew he battled those feelings so he could be her friend. It wasn't Miles who should feel bad, it was her. Taking a deep breath, making sure she was still put together and no clothing or body parts had worked their ways out of place, she went up behind him. “No, Miles. I'm the one who's sorry. You've been my friend and I used you horribly. I'm sorry.” Ginny didn't consider that what she said was an impossibility in this time period. Women didn't take advantage, only men. Women could seduce, but no man could claim he was injured over said seduction.

Turning again to face her, before the words could leave his lips, Evelyn and her husband walked up the path. “Bethany, Clarendon, is that you?”

Miles turned just in time to watch the two walk up the pathway toward their alcove. He tried to school his features into something akin to boredom when he heard Bethany mutter under her breath, “God dammit.” Knowing that she was as distressed over the situation as he, his face must have taken on a guilty look. The look on Evelyn Collingsford's face was telling enough. She knew something had happened and Miles Clarendon was sure that couldn't be a good thing.

“Bethany, did Clarendon bring you up here to watch the fireworks,” Evelyn asked, providing them the perfect excuse for their absence from their group.

Which was why Miles couldn't believe his ears when he heard Bethany reply, “No, we were just walking around, admiring the scenery.”

“Indeed.”

They walked back together, meeting up with their group only to say goodnight. The ride back to the Collingsford's home was quiet, subdued. Miles feeling guilty, Lord Collingsford feeling tired, Evelyn feeling curious and Ginny wondering if she could forget just how incredible that kiss had been.

Ginny knew she should feel guilty about kissing someone other than her husband, but she didn't. Maybe because her husband had left her with no idea of when he would return. Maybe because of the enormous mess he left her to clean up. Or maybe, just maybe, because it wasn't her life and she was in the same position she'd been in with Ian. Live for the moment, since it was obvious she'd already “unromanced” this plot line.  

So, after that night, she and Miles would try to behave. After she retired back to Wellesley Hall, he would visit occasionally, having purchased an estate not far from Whitmore's. When they would find themselves alone, it would sometimes lead to kissing, but never more than that. Ginny began to feel like the teenager, careful not to get caught by her parents on the couch. Mostly, they continued their friendship. She used him as a sounding board and he used her as a conscience. It was rewarding in its own way, for a while.

Now, standing in front of her mirror, examining herself to make sure everything was just right, she felt nervous. Although she hadn't been faithful to her husband for quite sometime now, this was different. This was going down a path that would probably not be forgiven. Not that she felt she had anything to be forgiven for, she knew that the likelihood of reconciliation would be gone. And with that, she may never be able to move on.

Live for the moment
, she repeated her newest mantra. If she sat around and waited for her husband to reappear, she wouldn't be able to respect him or herself. She needed to do something for herself, after a long year of doing for everyone else. Tonight was definitely the night and she refused to have any regrets.

Chapter 16

Ginny sat across from Miles wondering if he suspected that tonight would be their first time together. Sipping her soup, she had a hard time coming up with conversation. That had never been a problem, with Miles saying inane things and Ginny calling him on it, making him talk in plain English and ask her questions despite her “tender sensibilities.”

He knows
, she thought.
He looks nervous
. As the footman came to remove her soup, she was smiling over his agitation. She thought about putting him out of his misery by revealing her ultimate plan, but that would take some of the fun out of it.

“What has you smiling so, my lady?”

“You didn't look like you enjoyed your soup, Miles. Is there a problem?” Her smile beamed even larger, as she tried to hold back her laugh.

Wondering at her game, he replied disinterestedly, “Not at all. I am quite well. If I had an issue it would be trying to figure out what you might be up to.”

Eyes widening in surprise, she remarked, “Up to? Me? What could I possibly be
up to
?”

“You may as well tell me. I have come to know you too well over the past year to know you are incapable of keeping a secret. If you have something to confess, it might as well be now.” His look of boredom was marred by his attempt to stifle his own laughter. If there was one thing he'd grown to love about Bethany Whitmore was her ability to make him laugh. Truly laugh without feeling as though he broke all the rules of polite society.

The footman arrived and served the second course, some sort of poultry with baby potatoes. The footman left the room, leaving them alone once again. Ginny nibbled at her offering, not really tasting it. Miles was right, she had a hard time keeping a secret. Especially one that involved him so intimately.