A Lesson in Trust

Chapter 1

Ginny opened her eyes and saw only blackness. Her heart lodged in her throat as she took in her limited environment. She was laying on her back, her arms at her sides, waiting for someone to turn on a light. Whatever she lay upon was hard like wooden planks, but she had no way to confirm it.

A wave of vertigo overcame her as she laid there. Closing her eyes again, she waited for the dizziness to pass before reopening her eyes. When she did open them, her situation remained unchanged; she was still on her back and it was still black as pitch. Lifting her hand slowly, Ginny went to reach out. After only a moment, she hit a wall.

No, not a wall because she was on her back. More brave now, Ginny reached out in every direction only to realize that she was closed in. Kicking out with her feet as well, a new wave of emotion came over Ginny as she recognized her situation. She was in a box, locked in apparently since her pounding on the walls had done nothing to release her.

Raw, blinding panic engulfed her. What was this place? Was she buried alive? Was her body finally dead, if not her consciousness?

Just as she opened her mouth to scream, Ginny awoke. With a gasp, she sat straight up and looked around. It was no longer dark. Weak light filtered in through the windows of the train car she sat in. Across from her sat a man, still sleeping against the windows on the opposite side of the car. From the looks of him, he was a servant, probably sent to chaperone her.

Despite the horrible nightmare, Ginny was still adept at guessing her new situation. After all, this was the sixth time she would live the romance novel heroine life. There was always a plan, always a formula. The only question was whether or not she would follow the plan to its forgone conclusion or muck it up as always. Decisions, decisions.

Rubbing her eyes to remove the last vestiges of sleep, Ginny looked out at the passing surroundings. The last time she woke up on a train, she was in the Western United States, heading toward Colby and her life as wife and mother. Instantly she knew she wasn't in the US again. Outside was too much like England to be mistaken for anything else. The weather certainly didn't contradict her with overcast skies and the potential of rain on the horizon.

It had to be at least the mid to later part of the 18th century for her to be riding on a train. Judging by her clothing, she was not destitute. Although the fabric was clean, it was also well worn. Rather than working herself into a headache trying to figure out her story, Ginny sat against the seat and watched the scenery go by instead. Not only was it easier, it was more efficient, as she would eventually come to remember who she was and where she was going anyway.

Breathing slowly, Ginny thought about her dream. Being buried alive had to be one of the all time worst ways to die. In all her passes from book to book, she never remembered having had a dream, or nightmare as this had been. Something different was always a little frightening.

Shaking her head, Ginny dismissed it as nothing more than her subconscious reacting to her absurd position. It was daunting traveling through time, becoming new people and living strange lives. Sure they all ended up with happily ever afters, but it could hardly matter when Ginny was everyone but who she was supposed to be. What could be more different than being a physician's assistant in the 21st century? A romance novel heroine in historical romance novels, that was what.

So Ginny waited. It would come to her in its own time with or without her encouragement.

We're here, Miss, a voice stated, accompanied by an insistent shaking of her shoulder.

Ginny hadn't realized that she'd fallen asleep again. Thankfully, no nightmares had plagued her that time. Rubbing her face, she looked out the window. There, just outside, was a station with a large sign proclaiming that they had reached Edinburgh.

Scotland, she thought as she rose and preceded the servant to the doorway. Too late in time to meet any of Ian's clan. It was just as well, since she was in no mood to live in those conditions again. What little luxuries were to be had in her current time period were still infinitely better than the poverty and lack of amenities in the 1200's.

Exiting the train, a conductor held out a hand to help her down the steps. As soon as her shoes hit the cobbles of the station, Ginny was bathed in a fine mist. If she had been thinking a bit more, she would have put on her hat, which she held firmly in her hand. Shaking her head, she figured it didn't matter as the mist would have reached her regardless.

The servant directed her to the inside of the building. He looked around and found a quiet corner. Steering her toward it, he spoke quietly.

Please sit here and do not speak to anyone, Miss. I must see to the luggage. Mr. Fredrickson will have sent a carriage to meet us, so I will seek it out as well.

Ginny, looking dazed as she always did in the beginning, nodded her understanding.

I hate to leave you here all alone, but it cannot be helped. This weather is not fit for a lady such as yourself.

With that the servant withdrew, and Ginny sat on the hard bench. Next to her, the servant had left her valise, which she plopped on her lap and held it reassuringly. Though there were no nefarious looking individuals around her, Ginny got a chill being left alone in the station to fend for herself.

Laughing to herself over her own insecurity, Ginny relaxed slightly, but still kept a wary watch on the station's other occupants. It came at that moment; flooding her mind with all the memories of her new life. One second she was just plain old Ginny, and the next, she became Miss Olivia St. Simone.

Examining her new memories, Ginny was astounded by the muck that was this young lady's life. Olivia was only twenty years old but had already lived the life of someone twice her age. Not a good life, only the bad parts.

Olivia's parents had recently died. In a unfortnate twist, Olivia's mother discovered her husband cavorting with a well known actress. It was not unheard of for men to seek pleasure outside their marriages, but his audacity in inviting said actress to his own home, and using his own desk in the study to do his cavorting was considered very unsavory.

The piece de resistance came when Olivia's father hadn't even bothered to lock the door to the study, thus allowing Olivia's mother to walk in on them. The actress was draped naked over the desk, with Olivia's father standing, facing the doorway, pumping away into the moaning woman.

Olivia's mother left the room and sought out her daughter. After regaling the entire story to her innocent daughter, in Technicolor detail, the woman returned to the study with a set of loaded dueling pistols.

Olivia's mother entered the study, locked the door, and without warning, took aim with the first pistol and killed the actress outright. Being a woman scorned, she was not going to be as generous with her errant husband, choosing to shoot him in the belly.

As Olivia's father lay moaning on the floor of his study, his very calm wife took the time to reload the pistol. When complete, she turned to her husband and shot herself in the head. Shortly after the third shot, the butler had managed to break down the door to the study, with the help of a few burly footmen, and surveyed the scene.

A physician was called, but by the time he arrived, Olivia's father had already died of blood loss. The butler had tried to keep Olivia out of the room, but she managed to divert his attention long enough to sneak into the room. Ginny reviewed Olivia's memory in her head, which was probably far more gruesome than the actual scene.

Hell hath no fury, Ginny thought to herself, lost in the memories of a young girl burdened with far too much, far too soon. Olivia should have been attending balls and soirées and parties galore. Instead, she was forever traumatized by the sight of her dead parents, and the scandal they created.

The scandal was so bad that her chances of ever marrying were next to nil. Her father's estate was almost entirely entailed to her cousin, since Olivia's father had never produced an heir. Fortunately for Olivia, her father wasn't so much of a philanderer that he hadn't considered his only child. A settlement of twenty thousand pounds had been set aside for her to be used as a dowry. In the event that she never marry, which was almost guaranteed, she would have access to the trust upon her twenty-fifth birthday.

Her father's lawyers had tried to argue that because of the situation, Olivia needed access to her funds immediately. They offered themselves as trustees, willing to distribute the money as necessary. But, after arguing her case in court, the judge requested that a suitable guardian be found to care for her until she reached her twenty-fifth birthday.

The law firm couldn't have cared less since they would still be in charge of the funds until she was old enough. They set out to contact any and all relatives to see if Olivia could be placed. Needless to say, any family that had been in London during the scandal refused outright. Any family who heard it second hand also refused. Thus, leaving Olivia only one choice.

Olivia's mother had an older brother who lived in the northern part of England. He was so far north that he was practically Scottish. Even after receiving the particulars of why his niece needed a place to stay, her uncle gladly took her in.

Her uncle had always been considered a bit of an odd duck. The man had a fondness for the strange and unusual. His collection of oddities was second to none in England. P. T. Barnum himself was said to envy Uncle Fredrickson's collection.

In his youth, he traveled the world to find the pieces that comprised his assortment of oddities. Animals in jars, weapons, books, taxidermy, and the like were included. Her uncle had seen the Orient, Africa, South America and the West Indies. His garden was comprised of flora from the exotic tropics to the frozen tundra.

Upon his return to England, he took a young wife and set about never leaving the old castle he bought just north of Berwick-upon-Tweed. He had become almost a recluse which made his agreement to take his orphaned niece all the more puzzling.

The lawyers never questioned it though. Instead, they had her pack her bags and vacate her London home. Her cousin was all too ready to see her gone, waiting until she left before bringing his own family to live in the now infamous home. He may not have liked the scandal it required to obtain it, but he was more than happy to take advantage of the situation.

The only servant in her old household willing to make the journey with her was the head groom, Mr. Tems. Her cousin had handed him his notice shortly before taking the house, so Mr. Tems was more than happy to take the salary to see his former employer's daughter safely to the north. It was Olivia's plan to try and get him a job at her uncle's house. She wanted at least one person she knew there with her.

After everything she'd learned, Ginny was exhausted. Their journey wasn't even close to being finished, as they still had over fifty miles to travel to reach her uncle's home. Edinburgh was the closest station to his home and traveling by coach from London would have taken over a week longer, depending on the weather.

In her tiredness, she waited for Mr. Tems to return. After the train ride, the last thing she wanted was to spend all day in a coach, but she had no choice. Admitting her curiosity, Ginny thought that Uncle Fredrickson could be someone she could get along with. Quirky and weird were some of Ginny's favorite qualities in family, and this guy sounded like he had them in spades.

Spotting the groom as he walked toward her, Ginny looked at his face to judge if they would soon be on their way.

Miss, there seems to be a problem. I am certain that your lawyers alerted your uncle of our arrival date, but there is no carriage awaiting us.

Speechless, Ginny's first thought was that Mr. Tems spoke very well for a servant. It took a moment to realize that they had no way of getting to her uncle's house, and she should really be thinking more about that. Taking a deep breath, all she could do with it was release a mighty sigh.

I could see about hiring a coach, Miss. Would that be acceptable? Mr. Tems, ever so patient with his young charge, smiled his encouragement.

Uh, yes. I think that would be best, Ginny replied, still clearly confused. Should I wait here, or join you?

Taking Ginny's arm, he said, I think it would be best if you came with me. If necessary, I will find us rooms for the night at a local inn until arrangements can be made.

Okay, Ginny responded, allowing Mr. Tems to take her valise and escort her out of the building.

The rain had ceased by the time they reached the luggage, which Mr. Tems had left in the front under the watchful eye of a railroad employee. As Ginny stood mute by his side, she heard Mr. Tems ask where they might be able to hire a coach for the ride to her uncle's home.

The employee was kind, taking pity on the forlorn looking young girl standing before him. He said that his nephew could do it for a very reasonable price, but he wouldn't be available until the next day. Ginny zoned out a bit listening to the bargaining going on between the two men. Mr. Tems, it would seem, was adept at a great many things other than the horses he used to care for at her father's home. When the transaction was done, Ginny was whisked away a few doors down from the station to an inn.

After a quick supper, she went to bed, needing to sleep. Her exhaustion had everything to do with her life, and the life she had just taken over. This being her sixth time at being a heroine, she thought she'd be getting used to the whole situation. Instead she was growing more tired. As for Olivia, if anyone needed the escapism to be found in sleep, it was that young girl. And escape, they did.

Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Ginny was feeling much better. The strain of learning so much, so quickly had drained her. But after a night's sleep, she was refreshed and more herself.

Both she and Mr. Tems had a quick breakfast before meeting the carriage. The driver was younger than Ginny, which concerned Mr. Tems. The boy, with all his cocky self-assurance, was able to win him over.

Are you certain you can handle this team, boy? Mr. Tems asked, sounding more haughty than a duke.

Raising an eyebrow to the obvious slight, the boy stepped down from the perch. Standing an inch taller than Mr. Tems, the boy tried for intimidating, but after only a moment, broke into a huge smile and laughed.

Oh, I can handle them, sir. I have been driving animals since I was a wee lad.

Raising an eyebrow of his own, Mr. Tems asked, Your name, boy?

The grin never faltered when he responded, Hamish, sir.

Mr. Tems quirked his lips in what could have been a smile and nodded his head. Then turning toward Ginny, he motioned her inside the carriage. Taking the seat across from her, Mr. Tems tapped the ceiling to let Hamish know he could proceed.

Are you worried about Hamish, Mr. Tems? Ginny asked, not sure what exactly had happened.

No, Miss. You can tell how good a driver is by the condition of his horses. The boy obviously takes care of his team. If I'd any doubt, I would have sat next to him on the perch.

Nodding her head, Ginny smiled. How long do you think it will take to get there?

Her companion's eyes took a strange hue. Ginny wondered what she'd said to give him that look. His face softened as he answered.

If the roads are good, it shouldn't take more than five or six hours.

Blowing out a breath, Ginny gave the man her full attention. Why don't you tell me about yourself, Mr. Tems? I am curious about how you became our head groom.

Laughing, he responded, That is the most you have ever said to me, Miss. I thought that what had happened would make you more quiet, not less.

Ginny took a moment to search her memories. It would seem that Olivia, though very pretty, was a much accomplished wallflower. Not a description that Ginny ever heard used for herself.

Don't think you're getting away from telling me your story, Mr. Tems. We have a lot of time to burn.

Very well, Miss, if you insist. I was the fifth son of a baron in Birmingham. As the youngest, I had to choose a profession in life to support myself. My father paid for my education as a gentleman, but I had no desire to be an attorney or clergyman. So I took different path altogether. I had always loved working with my family's horses, so, much to my father's dismay, I worked in many stables before being hired as the head groomsman in your father's household.

Well, that explained why he was well spoken, but Ginny wasn't done being nosy.

Have you ever been married? she asked, caring little about her impertinence.

No. I found that ladies had little liking for my chosen profession, and those of the working class thought me too above them. I'm caught between two different worlds, I think.

Nodding her head, Ginny could understand that perfectly. The difference between the worlds she'd been living lately and the one she wanted to return to were light years away from each other. But she was getting along, wasn't she? Especially when she didn't do things that utterly mucked things up.

Perhaps I will be able to secure you a position in my uncle's household. Unless you've already made other plans.

The look that came across the man's face said it all. That is most kind of you, Miss, but I have already obtained a new position. I shall be working for Lord Tewdsbury. We met once at Tattersals. He has been trying to lure me away from your father ever since.

Oh, Ginny stated, not sure why she was so disappointed. Perhaps it was Olivia asserting herself. Still, she was entering an unknown situation, which only made her more uncomfortable.

You shall be fine, Miss. Your uncle has an... unusual reputation, but I have never heard him called cruel.

Smiling, more to reassure her companion, Ginny said, I know you're right, Mr. Tems. I just wanted to make sure that you were settled. Especially after being so kind to escort me all the way up here.

It was no trouble at all, Miss. After all that had happened, I would not have you think that all the staff had abandoned you. His kind eyes shone, even in the dimness of the carriage. To Ginny, it was shameful that this man had never married and had children of his own. But then, hopefully it wasn't too late for him.

I believe that you may yet find your lady love, Mr. Tems. As a matter of fact, I'm willing to bet that your new situation will prove just that.

Laughing, Mr. Tems nodded his head. Perhaps, Miss, but first I must see you settled. That would make me happy.

The two rode in silence, occasionally discussing the countryside beyond the carriage. This part of England was not known for its sunny skies and warm temperatures. Facing the North Sea, Ginny was expecting a lot of dreary weather, which would reek havoc on her attitude. In her real life in Arizona, she rarely had to deal with rainy days.

They stopped only once to rest the horses and eat a lunch they'd had the inn pack for them. By early afternoon, they'd reached her uncle's home, just north of the town of Berwick-upon-Tweed.

Ginny's first thought upon seeing her uncle's home was that it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen. The house was no house at all but a castle. It had high stone walls covered in moss and ivy. There were no outer walls, only the main structure itself remained. It reminded Ginny of the home she lived in with Ian but larger. With the gray skies as a backdrop, it looked dark and imposing.

A chill ran down Ginny's back as she stepped from the carriage and looked up and down the stone walls. It was in no way entirely original, as Ginny spied glass windows. The door, though, looked authentic with thick, heavy wood, peppered with large medal studs. A huge door knocker took up part of the right side of the door, and Ginny ran forward to have a chance to use it.

Expecting the knocker to be rusted and heavy, Ginny was surprised when she could easily lift it and let it drop. It took only once to deliver a booming sound to the inside of the home. Like a child at Christmas, Ginny couldn't wait to see inside since most of the castles she'd visited in the future had been mostly ruins.

Mr. Tems assisted Hamish with her luggage as they waited for someone to answer their summons. After a few minutes of waiting, Hamish pounded the knocker a few more times. Finally, the door was opened to a very surprised old man.

The butler, Ginny presumed, looked to be older than dirt, with a shock of bushy white hair sticking out in various directions. He was also stooped over, which required him to lift his head up to see who had been knocking at his door. When no recognition entered his eyes, he asked, May I help ye?

Mr. Tems came forward and stated, Miss St. Simone to see her uncle, if you please.

Who? the butler asked, nearly screaming his inquiry.

Mr. Tems turned to look at Ginny with a questioning look, but then tried again.

Miss St. Simone. Her uncle is expecting her.

Waving a spotted hand in the air, the butler responded, I know nothing of that. Mr. Fredrickson ain't here now. Come back later.

Before the old man could close the door, Mr. Tems stepped in his way. Perhaps you could summon your mistress, sir. I assure you that Miss St. Simone is supposed to be here.

The old man had a lot of spirit, to take on a man much younger and much more fit, and he wouldn't be intimidated. Now see here, sir. If I have heard nothing of a niece coming to Arden Castle, I assure you that my mistress knows nothing as well.

Before Mr. Tems could respond, another man called out from inside the house.

What seems to be the problem, Porter?

Ginny decided to just stand back and let the men fight over the situation. But, as soon as the door opened more and Ginny could see the newest arrival, she knew things had changed.

Shazam, enter the mega-hunk!

Ginny looked at the new gentleman. He was tall, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. His hair was cut short and the color was so black that it almost appeared blue. His eyes were a steely gray, the likes of which could read your deepest thoughts. The man was well dressed in a suit of charcoal