Free A Lesson in Forgiveness by Jennifer Connors

staring at her in awed silence.
     
     
     
    Whitmore and the other men had just arrived back at the house after the shoot. They had bagged several birds, not that it mattered. They were men and they liked to shoot at things. All in all, a good morning's recreation was had by all. During their walk back, there was no shortage of good natured ribbing, mostly surrounding Mr. Thompson nearly killing a dog.
    “Clarendon, you seemed to be in a subdued mood today,” Whitmore was quite surprised that Clarendon had joined in the festivities, mostly sticking to the outer edges and keeping quiet and to himself.
    Acknowledging his friend, he smiled. “I have had a lot to think about as of late.”
    “Really. For instance, marriage... perhaps.” Whitmore had never been capable of great subtlety and this was no exception.
    “Indeed. I have received word that my father is nearly dying again. This would be, what... the fifth time at least. My mother was most persuasive in trying to get me hitched up.”
    Slapping his friend on the back, he said, “I am sorry, old man. But it is the way of the world, is it not?” It suddenly occurred to Whitmore that his old friend would probably be making an offer to Miss Hamilton, since she had been the only girl at the party that Clarendon had spent any time. The feeling of loss both confused and infuriated him. After all, he had his plans, and marriage was not one of them.
    “You need not look so forlorn on my account, Whitmore. It is not like marrying is the worst chore to be done by man.” Thankfully, Clarendon misinterpreted his reaction. Whitmore was not about to correct his assumption.
    Coming to the side door, the servant's entrance, so that they could deposit their muddy boots, a boy ran up screaming. Whitmore, not thinking twice, ran to the boy to find out what was going on. A few of the men followed, most continued on their way figuring it didn't concern them anyway.
    Reaching the boy, Whitmore asked, “Stop screaming, boy. Tell me what is wrong.”
    Panting from the exertion of running from the lake, he sputtered, “Gerard... cannot swim.... in lake...”
    That was all it took for Whitmore to take off in a full run for the lake. He barely noticed Clarendon and Thompson close behind him. He found himself angry. Why would their be unsupervised children by the lake? It was an accident waiting to happen and someone would pay dearly.
    When the lake came into sight, Whitmore could hardly believe his eyes. There, dragging a small boy onto the shore was a very wet and mostly naked Miss Hamilton. As he pressed on, he could see her leaning over the boy, kissing his face, then turning her ear to listen. Is the boy alright , he thought as he reached the shoreline.
    Once close enough, he saw she wasn't kissing the boy, but blowing air into his mouth. Every few seconds she would repeat the process, then turn her ear to the boy's mouth and listen. Suddenly, the boy lurched to the side and vomited water all over the ground. As Bethany turned him, she was slapping his back.
    It was then that Whitmore noticed that through her very sheer chemise, Bethany's breasts were visible. He was sure that the rest of her would be just as visible were she to stand up. Quickly, he removed his coat and threw it over her shoulders as she clung to the small child, whispering soothing words as the boy cried. A moment later, Bethany looked up and saw the large group of people who had now gathered around the lake.
    Not a moment later, a large woman came forward, screaming for someone named Miss Jones. Whitmore ignored her screaming and turned to kneel next to Ginny. She must have noticed her near nakedness, because she had put her arms through his jacket and closed it up as much as she could.
    Turning toward Whitmore, she said, “I'm sorry, my lord. Can someone fetch me a blanket?”
    Looking into her eyes, knowing what she had done to save that little boy, Whitmore had an overwhelming urge to pick her up and walk off