Chapter Seven
Simon tapped the end of his pen against the parchment spread out along the desk before him. He’d been staring at columns of numbers and letters for hours, and had only come to one conclusion. His cousin was more of a bastard than he’d known.
Not only did the ledgers outline what a miserly man Henry had been when it came to his family, but how generous he’d chosen to be to a long line of mistresses. Including some who he’d entertained in the very cottage Simon now resided in. ‘The Den’ his cousin had called it when he made notations regarding it in his journals. Though they were supposed to be a detailed accounting of his expenses, they read more like a bragging session in a club backroom.
Simon sniffed in disgust as he turned another page. It wasn’t as if he’d ever liked his pompous cousin, but now the fire burning in him was something akin to hatred. How could Henry bring such pain to his wife? How could he want anyone else when he had Ginny at his side and in his bed?
It wasn’t as if a man could get bored with her. She had a fire in her eyes that told Simon instinctively how responsive she was. He could only imagine how she’d arch up under a skilled hand, lead a man to each spot that made her writhe. If he shut his eyes, he could almost feel her wrap long, supple legs around his waist, hear her urge him on with soft cries and passionate endearments.
The quill in his hand snapped in two, sending the inky tip skidding across the desk with a trail of black liquid.
“Damn!” Simon pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab it up. His whole body coursed with desire.
With another, saltier curse, he tossed the handkerchief into the waste bin beside the desk. He needed to concentrate on his duties, not his cousin’s alluring wife. After all, he’d made a promise not to touch her again. Imagining doing that and more was only a futile exercise in frustration.
He rubbed his eyes, then turned his focus back to the ledger. More evidence of Henry’s cruelty glared up at him. He’d taken control of Ginny’s inheritance after her father’s death nearly two years before. Within months he had spent every penny, mostly on things his wife couldn’t have approved of. He’d gambled on horse races with some, drank away a good portion and even… Simon blinked in disbelief. Even paid for his mistress’s lodging for a year with the rest.
His vision blurred with rage. Did Ginny know about these things? Judging from her seeming distaste for her late husband, he’d wager she did. And though she hid it well now, at some point that knowledge must have broken her heart. No wonder she was so icy toward him, so distant from anyone who could cause her pain.
As if conjured by his confused mind, the door opened and Ginny entered the room. When her gaze fell on him, she blushed. “Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize you would be here this afternoon.”
The chair screeched across the floor as he rose to his feet as quickly as he could. “Please come in.”
She nodded slowly and took another step into the room. He devoured her with his eyes, drawn to her even more now that he knew some small part of what she’d suffered. Despite her painful union with his cousin, she maintained a grace about her that erased any humiliation another woman might have felt in her place.
He sidestepped the desk and motioned to his neglected seat. “If you need to use the room, I can leave. I’m not doing anything I can’t finish at a later date.”
She smiled at his deference. “No, it’s quite all right. Actually,” she paused with a pretty blush. “I wasn’t honest when I said I didn’t realize you would be here. Ingram told me you’d come in and I wanted-”
She broke off with a dip of her head.
His eyes widened. Was she going to admit she wanted to see him? His heart soared at the thought, though he managed to swallow back his emotions and give a noncommittal nod. “I was just going over these books as you wanted me to.”
She raised her eyes. “Yes?”
“Henry had some expenses that explain a lot about the goings on here at Westdale.”
The blush returned to her cheeks, but this time it was the flame red of embarrassment. Her reaction supported his theory that she had known full well about Henry’s extramarital activities.
“My husband never squandered his money. The estate is still as solid as ever,” she whispered as she reached forward to clutch the back of a chair.
“No, he never squandered his money.” Simon took a step closer. “He squandered yours.”
With a little jump, Ginny dared to meet his eyes again. In their blue depths he saw her pleading with him not to press, not to make her relive whatever unhappiness she’d gone through so many years before.
“It doesn’t signify.” Her voice was barely above a breath.
Simon dipped his head. How many times had he told himself that same lie? But those kinds of humiliations always signified. Always.
“You know, I once spend a great deal of time at Westdale.” He took a step away from her and sensed her relief that he’d changed the subject. “As a boy.”
“Did you?” she asked as she slipped into the same chair beside the fire that she’d been mauling a few moments before.
“Yes.” He took the one beside her and did his best not to be distracted by the sweet smell of lilacs that always lingered in her presence. “My mother and Henry’s father were brother and sister. Mother used to drag us here for a few weeks in the summer after the Season was over. I hated it.”
Ginny’s smile grew to one of understanding, and with a few words, Simon realized he’d struck on the one thing they had in common. Though he rarely spoke of his history even to his closest friends, telling this alluring woman seemed natural. If only to let her see that he’d suffered by the Blanchard’s hands, too.
“It’s a beautiful place,” she offered softly.
He shook his head. “Not when you’re the poor cousin. My father was a virtual nothing. He’d married my mother out of love, but the fact that he’d gain favor in the ton certainly didn’t hurt. Henry and his sisters took great pleasure in pointing out that I was the son of an untitled no one.” His mouth turned down in a deep frown at the memory. “And when my father left us, my cousin’s treatment of me only grew worse.”
Ginny’s face softened. “Your father left your family?”
He nodded, surprised at the shock of pain that ripped through him after so many years. He’d somehow thought he’d mastered the hurt. Apparently not.
“He was drawn to the ocean, drawn to sailing the world. He felt tied down by a family, especially one as oppressive as my mother’s. And she couldn’t keep him with her. Neither could I.”
With a gasp, Ginny reached out to cover his hand with her own. The small gesture touched him. It wasn’t desire that drew them together this time, but understanding.
“Surely you don’t believe your father’s going had anything to do with you?” Her voice was compassionate.
He frowned. She’d touched on the subject that had haunted him since he was nine years old and watched his mother beg his father not to leave them. And his father hadn’t even turned back to say goodbye to him.
“Of course not,” he lied. “But Henry took an even greater pleasure that my no one father had left me than he had before. He taunted, he teased. He maimed with words meant to cut.”
She nodded as if she understood perfectly, and he had a suspicion that she did.
“And then his father and mother cut my mother off from their family.” His eyes narrowed. “They said her shame brought too much of a blight upon their name. Though she continued to receive her pathetic inheritance, she was no longer considered part of her own family.”
Ginny shut her eyes with a dip of her head. “I’m so sorry. You must hate me for being Henry’s wife.”
He shook his head. “No! Of course not. What I’m trying to tell you is that I understand. I understand how important it is to have something that’s your own and not related to a person who has taken so much from you.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t know what
you mean.”
“I’ve found an error in these books.” He motioned to the ledgers as he drew his hand away from hers. “Henry took money that was meant to be yours and bought things with it that he never should have. I want to return that inheritance to you.”
Ginny jumped up. “What?”
He smiled at her shocked expression. “I will draft a letter to Mr. Randall today instructing him to redeposit the money that was taken back into your trust. With interest.”
Her face softened as his words sank in. “Oh, Simon, that’s so kind, but I couldn’t take that money from my son.”
He waved his hand with a snort of derision. “I’ve already arranged for some investments that will more than replace anything we withdraw.”
She stepped forward to take his arm and her warmth enveloped him. “It was only pin money. Just meant for silly things I’m sure I don’t need.”
He shook his head as he fought to keep his mind clear. Looking down into her eyes, all he wanted to do was claim her lips. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m in control of your destiny. This account will be yours and yours alone. You won’t need permission to access your funds.”
Her eyes widened as she leaned away in surprise. “I would have no trustee?”
“None.”
Her eyes misted with tears she blinked back. The reaction made him swell with pride. With something so right and simple, he’d brought that light into her eyes. He’d given her back a bit of the dignity his cousin had so callously snatched away.
“Simon.” She reached up and cautiously brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. It felt like heaven, but somehow he managed to remain still and let her continue. “You don’t know what this means…”
She trailed off as she stared up into his eyes. He saw the very need he felt reflected in their depths. He could feel it in the way her hand stilled on his cheek. She leaned into his chest and tilted her head up. As her eyes fluttered to near-shut, Simon bent his own head.
Just one more kiss. Just one more couldn’t change anything that hadn’t already been changed.
The whisper of her breath warmed his lips as he slowly cupped the nape of her neck. She trembled beneath his hand as she clutched at his arm and drew him even closer.
As their mouths met, a sharp rap sounded at the door. Ginny made a soft sound of protest even as she pulled away to straighten her skirt. Simon stared at her for a moment and saw the same confusion and heat in her eyes that coursed through his body.
“Come in,” she called out in a hoarse, strained voice. Her eyes held his for a moment before they refocused on the door.
Simon turned and scowled at Ingram. The damn butler looked from one to the other with a slightly interested expression, but he quickly smoothed it away with an apologetic nod. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but Mr. Dennison is here to-”
He would have continued, but a tall, blond man shoved passed him and came into the room. His brown eyes fell on Ginny, then lit up with gladness.
Despite his rude intrusion, Ginny smiled in return and sent a flash of jealousy through Simon. Who the hell was this?
“Robert!” She took a step forward and held out her hand. The man took it and raised it to his lips with a possessive smile. “Why I haven’t seen you what seems like ages.”
The blond man nodded. “Yes, I have been very busy with matters in the shire for the past few weeks and I regret not being able to break bread with you lately. But I’d heard you had an unwelcome visitor and I wanted to insure your well-being.”
Ginny shook her head. “Unwanted visitor? What on earth are you talking about, Robert?”
“The trustee… People in the village were talking about how angry you were when you got the letter and I-”
As the man continued talking, Ginny flushed a dark red and shot her gaze in Simon’s direction. He met her flustered expression with a smile. As much as he hated this person’s interruption, finally hearing the truth about Ginny’s reaction to him was almost worth it.
“Robert,” she blurted out before the other man could do any more damage. “You must have misunderstood. This is Mr. Simon Webber. He’s Jack’s trustee and he and I have come to…” She turned to face him, and his amusement faded at the lingering desire in her eyes. “Simon and I have come to an understanding.”
He smiled at her before he turned his attention back to the man before him. He was handsome, the kind of man women looked at a bit longer if they thought they wouldn’t get caught. He had light hair and dark eyes, eyes that smoldered when they fell on Ginny. And she’d called him Robert, his Christian name. Slowly Simon clutched his hands into fists. Just what kind of relationship did they have?
“I haven’t yet had the pleasure of your name, sir,” Simon said as he stepped forward.
Ginny shook her head. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Simon Webber, this is Robert Dennison. He’s our shire’s magistrate and was a great friend to Henry and to our family.”
“Yes.” Dennison stepped forward to extend his hand. When the two men locked grips, both squeezed hard enough to send a clear message to the other. “Part of my duties here in Westdale are to protect her ladyship from anyone who might cause her harm.”
Simon narrowed his gaze at the other man’s underlying message. “Funny, Dennison, that’s part of my duty, as well. Perhaps that kind of protection is better left to family… and friends.”
Ginny stepped forward and drew Robert away with a gentle hand on his arm. “Mr. Webber, don’t be silly. Robert is a friend. He has been for years.”
Dennison gave a smirk of triumph. Simon felt the urge to put his hand through the other man’s teeth.
Ginny looked at him again, and her gaze cooled his anger a fraction. After all, it was him who she’d nearly kissed moments before.
“Well, I should leave you to your work, Mr. Webber. Robert, since you’ve come all this way, perhaps you’ll have tea with me in the salon?”
Any triumph Simon felt melted away with her offer. Though she might be trying to keep the two men apart, he hated that she’d spend time alone with this stranger. He needed to find out more about Robert Dennison.
“Ginny?” he called out as she moved toward the door behind the intruder. He was unsure what he wanted to say, but he wanted her to look at him again.
She turned back. “Yes?”
For a moment they only looked at each other and then, with a smile, she slipped from the room on Dennison’s arm and left Simon feeling more alone than ever.
***
He’d nearly kissed her again. After all his apologies and the promises they’d each made to stay away, there was still something almost dangerous that drew them together. The thought gave Ginny a shiver that had nothing to do with a lack of warmth in the sitting room.
“You seem distracted, Virginia. Are you certain Mr. Webber’s visit isn’t causing you distress?”
Ginny shook her thoughts away and gave Robert a weak smile. “You worry too much. Simon should be done with his work soon, and then he’ll go back to his business. We shouldn’t see him again for a long while once he leaves.”
Her smile turned down at her words. Despite the fact that she wanted, no needed, Simon to leave, the idea of never seeing him again left her feeling oddly bereft.
“Well, don’t hesitate to call on me if you need my help.” Robert reached over to grasp her hand. “You know I’m your servant, Virginia.”
Ginny pulled her hand away with a frown. Robert was a good man, but he was often too forward. He had been even when her husband was living. Though she’d always dismissed it as a harmless tendre, she never wanted to do anything to encourage it. It wouldn’t be fair to lead the man on, especially now that Henry was gone and Robert might believe he had a chance to win her heart.
“Thank you, I appreciate your offer.” She smiled, but stood to pace a few feet away. Suddenly he felt too close. “Was there some specific reason you came here today, Robert? Besides your misguided desire to protect me from Henry’
s cousin?”
Robert’s frown lengthened as he, too, stood up. “Actually, my lady, part of my visit is in my official capacity.”
Though the color drained from her face, Ginny somehow maintained a serene expression. “Really? Whatever could you want from me as magistrate?” She forced a false, brittle laugh. “Am I under arrest?”
“No, of course not.” He chuckled but then his laughter faded. “But it is an unhappy subject I’m loathe to breach with you.”
It took force to keep breathing. No matter how much she wanted to bolt, Ginny had to hear Robert out. To protect her son.
“What is it?”
“Sit down.” He motioned to the settee beside him, but this time she took a chair a few feet away. “I’ve heard some troubling rumblings in the village.”
“Have you?”
She took her tea. It sloshed around her cup thanks to her trembling hands, but she managed to take a sip without dumping the contents on her lap.
“Yes, about Henry’s death.” He leaned in closer. “Some people are wondering why he was riding during such a terrible storm. And how such an accomplished horseman would come to fall from his mount and crush his skull, even under the worst of conditions.”
As it always did when she remembered Henry’s death, a wave of nausea cascaded over Ginny. “W-we all wonder those things, Robert.” She clutched the chair arm with her fist. “Who knows the answers?”
“Well that’s the trouble.” His eyes looked pained. “It’s my job to find the answers. Already people have implied that since I’m such a close family friend, I cannot properly fulfill my duties to the shire. To maintain the respect for my position, I must prove them wrong.”
Ginny nodded automatically, but she barely heard him anymore. The words “formal investigation” and “troubling inconsistencies” floated through her mind like a turbulent river. They were combined with images of Henry swinging his fist. That dull thud when he connected with her skin. Jack screaming. And then…
The Desires of a Countess Page 7