A Lesson in Pride by Jennifer Connors Read Free Book Online Page A

herself go to the sleep: Grant might have left her pregnant. If he did, she was carrying the next earl of Essex. Fitting end to such a legacy, she thought ruefully.
     

Chapter 6
     
    Ginny was having the most wonderful dream. She was driving her car to the local Target to pick up some new socks. The radio was blaring and she was singing right along with it. She had no idea the name of the band, but belted out the familiar lyrics all the same. When the commotion awoke her, it left her bereft. How something so simple could be missed. She knew she'd taken a lot for granted. If she could only get back, things would be different.
     
    “My lady, you must wake up,” an insistent voice buzzed in her ear.
     
    “Why?” she asked, rolling over and pulling one of the pillows over her head.
     
    “It is the earl, my lady. He is...”
     
    Suddenly, Ginny pulled herself up. She knew damn well what the earl was, but she couldn't betray that to anyone. Instead, she looked at the young girl and asked, “He is what, Maggie?”
     
    Swallowing down a huge lump, Maggie started to cry. Ginny's eyebrows shot up, not in confusion, but in amazement. Drake was never particularly kind to anyone, especially his staff. Why the hell would Maggie be crying over that sack of garbage?
     
    Sniffling, she answered, “I am sorry, my lady, but the earl died last night.”
     
    “Died?” she asked in an over-dramatic tone. All that was missing was her throwing her hand to her forehead and fainting dead away against her pillows. “Are you certain?”
     
    “Yes, my lady,” Maggie sniffed. “Mr. Voelker, his valet, found him this morning. He called for the physician, but it was too late.”
     
    Too late by twelve hours , Ginny wanted to laugh. “Oh,” was all she responded, not knowing what else to say. “Good riddance,” seemed insensitive, as well as the slew of other phrases that came to her head.
     
    “Mrs. Lester is in the parlor,” Maggie stated as she pulled back the bed sheets and saw the telltale blood stain on the other side. “I must get you dressed so you may go to her.”
     
    “How did Mrs. Lester find out so quickly?” Ginny inquired, allowing herself to be pulled from the bed and into her dressing room.
     
    “Mr. Voelker must have sent her word. She only lives a few doors down.”
     
    Damn , Ginny thought. Vivianne would be her biggest problem. Drake's oldest daughter hated her. In all fairness, Vivianne hated everyone and everything. She was by far the most miserable person in existence. After growing up in Casa Drake, who could blame the girl. Drake had to set an enormous dowry on the girl to even make a man consider marrying her. In the end, the only man brave enough to attempt such a union was the second son of the Marquis of Ravenwood, a man thirty years her senior and stone-cold deaf.
     
    As Maggie dressed Ginny, the effects of almost an entire bottle of champagne made themselves known. Her head ached and her stomach churned. Would it be insensitive to ask for breakfast, she wondered, as she was sat down to have her hair dressed.
     
    “I need some tea, Maggie,” she stated before realizing that she never asked how her husband had died. Ginny had watched too many detective shows not to know that was suspicious.
     
    “Oh, by the way, how did his lordship die?”
     
    “I overheard the physician say it was his heart most likely.”
     
    “Of course,” Ginny said by rote. The man was a walking case for heart disease, but that wouldn't keep Vivianne from making a stink. No girl could be lucky enough to marry into a wealthy family and have her husband drop so quickly.
     
    “Do you wish me to stop dressing your hair to get you some tea?”
     
    “No, finish up. I'll have a tea tray brought in when I see Mrs. Lester.”
     
    Twenty minutes later, Ginny entered the parlor to see Vivianne with a handkerchief to her face, sniffling. What was the protocol when trying to console a woman who hates you? Ginny