early in anticipation of their ride today.
“Thank you, my lord.” Ginny noticed he seemed more animated today. Pearce entered with his breakfast and quickly turned to her.
“Would you care for some eggs and toast again this morning, miss?”
“Yes, thank you, Pearce.”
“Cook has made up kidneys this morning.”
Yikes, did he say kidneys? As in the bodily organ? “No thank you, Pearce. Not this morning. I would, however, like some coffee please.”
“Very good, miss.” And with that, he disappeared behind the corner door.
Ginny observed that Whitmore was watching her carefully, not eating his breakfast.
“Please don't wait for me, my lord. I wouldn't want your breakfast to get cold.” It seemed more fun to flirt with him now that she knew nothing would come of it. He was safe and they could be friends. She didn't have to worry about doing exactly the right thing. She could almost be herself.
He regarded her for another moment and went about buttering his toast. “Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Hamilton?”
“Yes, I am. I have been fortunate enough to receive not only your attention, but the attention of a few of your guests.”
“Lord Clarendon speaks quite highly of you.”
“Does he? I'm glad. He regaled me with stories of his youth yesterday. Quite the scamp.”
“Did he tell you that we went to school together?” Whitmore now worried about what Clarendon may have told her of his childhood. He hadn't been nearly as reserved as he was now.
“Yes. He said that he spent most of his time trying to get you into trouble and you spent most of your time trying to keep him out of it. He didn't mention, however, who was more successful.”
Quirking his lip into a smirk, he replied, “Unfortunately, Miss Hamilton, Lord Clarendon was more successful.”
“Really. I should hope you will have some stories to tell me while we ride this morning.” Ginny found she was very interested in hearing how this staunch earl got into trouble.
Pearce returned with her breakfast and they ate in companionable silence. When finished, Whitmore pulled her chair out for her and provided his arm. As they walked out the door, Pearce handed Whitmore his riding crop and hat. Ginny took the time to attach her hat as well while gazing in the hallway mirror.
On their way to the stables, Ginny began to feel anxious about their ride. She could feel her steps slowing as they made their way across the cobblestones of the courtyard. The huge butterflies in her stomach were now making her nauseous. Fine beads of sweat broke out across her forehead and her breathing became unsteady. Ginny didn't know if she could do it.
Ginny had ridden horses before, but never sidesaddle. The thought of one of her legs dangling uselessly made her stomach do all new flips. She hadn't really cared to ride astride either, but at least she felt a little more in control. Whitmore noticed her hesitation.
“Are you alright, Miss Hamilton?”
Stopping him, Ginny turned to him and begged, “Please tell me we won't gallop or go very fast or jump over anything.”
Staring into her eyes, seeing her fear, Whitmore felt awful, like he was throwing her to the wolves. “I promise we shall take only a leisurely ride, no fences and no hard riding. I merely want to show you around the estate. If you would prefer, we could take my curricle.”
Curricle? What's a curricle? she thought to herself frantically. It had to be better, but something stopped her from agreeing. Ginny liked a challenge and as long as they went slow, she figured it was better than chickening out.
“No. I think we should ride. I appreciate you being willing to take it slow. I'm sorry if it will ruin the ride for you.”
His face was unreadable, but he seemed to be stifling a smile. Clearing his throat, he looked at her with all due seriousness. “The pleasure of the ride is spending time with an intelligent lady of information. Not charging the hills as if in battle.”
Letting out
“Thank you, my lord.” Ginny noticed he seemed more animated today. Pearce entered with his breakfast and quickly turned to her.
“Would you care for some eggs and toast again this morning, miss?”
“Yes, thank you, Pearce.”
“Cook has made up kidneys this morning.”
Yikes, did he say kidneys? As in the bodily organ? “No thank you, Pearce. Not this morning. I would, however, like some coffee please.”
“Very good, miss.” And with that, he disappeared behind the corner door.
Ginny observed that Whitmore was watching her carefully, not eating his breakfast.
“Please don't wait for me, my lord. I wouldn't want your breakfast to get cold.” It seemed more fun to flirt with him now that she knew nothing would come of it. He was safe and they could be friends. She didn't have to worry about doing exactly the right thing. She could almost be herself.
He regarded her for another moment and went about buttering his toast. “Are you enjoying yourself, Miss Hamilton?”
“Yes, I am. I have been fortunate enough to receive not only your attention, but the attention of a few of your guests.”
“Lord Clarendon speaks quite highly of you.”
“Does he? I'm glad. He regaled me with stories of his youth yesterday. Quite the scamp.”
“Did he tell you that we went to school together?” Whitmore now worried about what Clarendon may have told her of his childhood. He hadn't been nearly as reserved as he was now.
“Yes. He said that he spent most of his time trying to get you into trouble and you spent most of your time trying to keep him out of it. He didn't mention, however, who was more successful.”
Quirking his lip into a smirk, he replied, “Unfortunately, Miss Hamilton, Lord Clarendon was more successful.”
“Really. I should hope you will have some stories to tell me while we ride this morning.” Ginny found she was very interested in hearing how this staunch earl got into trouble.
Pearce returned with her breakfast and they ate in companionable silence. When finished, Whitmore pulled her chair out for her and provided his arm. As they walked out the door, Pearce handed Whitmore his riding crop and hat. Ginny took the time to attach her hat as well while gazing in the hallway mirror.
On their way to the stables, Ginny began to feel anxious about their ride. She could feel her steps slowing as they made their way across the cobblestones of the courtyard. The huge butterflies in her stomach were now making her nauseous. Fine beads of sweat broke out across her forehead and her breathing became unsteady. Ginny didn't know if she could do it.
Ginny had ridden horses before, but never sidesaddle. The thought of one of her legs dangling uselessly made her stomach do all new flips. She hadn't really cared to ride astride either, but at least she felt a little more in control. Whitmore noticed her hesitation.
“Are you alright, Miss Hamilton?”
Stopping him, Ginny turned to him and begged, “Please tell me we won't gallop or go very fast or jump over anything.”
Staring into her eyes, seeing her fear, Whitmore felt awful, like he was throwing her to the wolves. “I promise we shall take only a leisurely ride, no fences and no hard riding. I merely want to show you around the estate. If you would prefer, we could take my curricle.”
Curricle? What's a curricle? she thought to herself frantically. It had to be better, but something stopped her from agreeing. Ginny liked a challenge and as long as they went slow, she figured it was better than chickening out.
“No. I think we should ride. I appreciate you being willing to take it slow. I'm sorry if it will ruin the ride for you.”
His face was unreadable, but he seemed to be stifling a smile. Clearing his throat, he looked at her with all due seriousness. “The pleasure of the ride is spending time with an intelligent lady of information. Not charging the hills as if in battle.”
Letting out
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