The Desires of a Countess

by Jenna Petersen

  She turned her head to make the ugly scenes go away.

  Robert cocked his head. “Virginia? You look ill.”

  “I’m sorry.” She released the section of fabric she clutched in her grip. “It is difficult for me to think about my husband’s death.”

  “Of course.” He nodded. “And I’ll try to make this investigation as quick and painless for you and your family as it can be. Once this matter is resolved, you can go on with your life. Perhaps you can-” He broke his sentence off with a sigh. “Well, it doesn’t matter.”

  She nodded. No, nothing else mattered as long as Jack was safe.

  “I’ve overstayed my welcome and I’ve upset you.” Robert rose to his feet with a frown. “My apologies, my lady.”

  Ginny shook her head. “Oh no, Robert. This is simply a difficult subject for me. But it certainly isn’t your fault. You’re only trying to do the job this shire has entrusted you to do. I’ll do my best to cooperate.”

  “Thank you, Virginia.” With a broad smile, he kissed her hand and then disappeared into the hallway to leave.

  Ginny closed the sitting room door and leaned her head against it with a shiver. All this time, she’d been trying to protect herself from a frontal attack from the devil she didn’t know. When all along, a friendly enemy had been sneaking around behind to ambush her.

  If Robert Dennison found out the truth about the night Henry died, it wouldn’t matter if she’d gotten rid of Simon or not. All would be lost and nothing and no one could change what would happen then.

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m so glad you’re here.” Ginny grasped Harriet’s wrist and dragged her to the parlor before her friend could even remove her hat. As she shut the door, she faced Harriet with wide eyes.

  “What in the world happened?” Her friend smiled coyly. “Something more between you and the devastating Mr. Devilish?”

  “Will you stop calling him that? I’m sorry I ever said he was the devil behind those eyes.” Ginny rolled her own eyes as she paced the room. “I have no time to talk about this nonsense anyway. I am about to be found out.”

  Harriet laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “Robert Dennison is opening an investigation into Henry’s death.”

  Her friend’s laughter faded. “Why?”

  “Apparently there has been talk in the village.” Ginny covered her eyes and held back a sob. She would not cry, not now.

  Harriet shook her head. “You may not go into the village any longer, but I am a frequent visitor. There have been no rumors that I’ve heard. Most of the people who live in Westdale couldn’t have cared less that Henry died. He wasn’t well-loved by his tenants.”

  “They know you’re my dearest friend. Perhaps they don’t talk when you’re around.” Ginny bit her lip. “It doesn’t really matter anyway! All that matters is that someone has put it in Robert’s head to investigate further. If he does and he finds out-”

  She shivered, unable to contemplate the consequences.

  “I think you put too much trust in Robert.” Harriet paced over to her to touch her shoulder. “There may be something else beyond some villager’s interference behind his reasons to investigate.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “He and Henry were close. Perhaps he has his own curiosity, but what does that matter if-”

  “No, I mean you.” Harriet cocked her head. “Surely you know that the man cares for you. He’s lusted after you since you married Henry. Only his closeness with the man kept him from a pursuit of you. Now that your husband is dead, his reasons to stay away are gone.”

  Ginny shut her eyes. This was too much to think about. “I know Robert has some feelings for me, but why would he investigate if he cared so much?”

  Harriet frowned. “Perhaps to play your savior. Or, if he’s guessed you have a secret to hide, to blackmail you into coming to his side. Or his bed.”

  Ginny reeled at her friend’s harsh accusation. “I-I can’t believe he’d go so far. But it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is to keep him from finding out the truth. And to keep Simon from finding out the truth.” Her head was spinning. Lies always seemed to beget more lies and she was shoulder deep in them as it was. “I need to get rid of Simon, then put Robert on another trail.”

  “You should trust in Simon before you trust Dennison.” Harriet shrugged.

  “Yes, I’m well-aware of your feelings on the matter.” Ginny sighed as she rubbed her eyes. “Today when we play Pall Mall, I want you to be Simon’s partner. He wants to play with me as his teammate, but I can’t risk that. While you play, try to convince him to leave me alone.”

  Her friend let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Ginny!”

  “It’s what’s best for me, even if you don’t believe it.”

  Harriet arched an eyebrow. “You want me to do what’s best for you?”

  “Please.” Ginny nodded.

  “That I can do.” She gave a smile Ginny didn’t know if she could trust completely. “Shall we play?”

  ***

  Simon rocked back on his heels to watch Ginny swing her mallet. Her shot was off and the ball careened toward her hoop, then curled off to the left. She let out a quiet curse before giving Adam an apologetic shrug.

  Simon frowned. He’d wanted to play pairs with her as his teammate, but she’d insisted he team with Harriet. As a result, both were playing terribly. Simon could see Ginny was as distracted as he, but he wondered at the cause. She’d been acting strangely for two days. In fact, her behavior had shifted after she shared tea with Robert Dennison.

  Could she have some kind of relationship with the man? His sources said no, that her story about the other man’s closeness to her husband was true. Still, any affair could have been something the pair hid from the public eye. Dennison was young and handsome and from his protective attitude toward Ginny, he felt something more for her than simple friendship.

  Simon tightened his grip on his mallet. The next play he made, he would pretend the ball was Dennison’s smirking head. He’d be sure to pound it well.

  “I didn’t realize Pall Mall was such a violent game, Mr. Webber.”

  Simon looked up to see Harriet Percy approaching him with an amused smile. Though they were partners, the blonde woman had spoken very little to him, only watched him all afternoon.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he said with a shake of his head as he attempted a smile in return. He was in no mood to talk to anyone but he didn’t want to take his upset out on her.

  “You appear angry enough to spit.” She tilted her head in friendly curiosity, but he saw a look in her eye. A message. “Between you and Ginny, I’m surprised the game hasn’t dissolved into fisticuffs or tears.”

  He frowned as he turned to look at Ginny again. On closer inspection she did look upset as much as distracted. His first instinct was to comfort her, but his questions and doubts about Dennison troubled him and he hardened himself to both her charms and her pain.

  “Lady Westdale has made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t want me involved in either her life or her emotions,” he said as he nodded to Adam and took the field to line up his own shot.

  As he swung the mallet, he thought about all the times Ginny had pushed him away. She wanted him, but she didn’t trust him. She wanted him gone, but she liked his attentions. She was a damn riddle and one Simon wasn’t sure he wanted to solve any longer.

  Perhaps Ginny was right. He should just return to London and his ship and forget all about her and her son and his trusteeship. Now that he knew she wasn’t daft, he believed she would raise the boy properly. His Aunt Cordelia and her daughters would grouse, but nothing had ever been good enough to please them anyway.

  His shot went as wide as Ginny’s had, and he had to hold back the nasty curse he wanted to say. His frustration had little to do with a friendly game.

  He returned to Harriet’s side with a shrug. After she took her own shot, she smiled at him. “You shouldn’t be s
o certain about Ginny’s feelings, even if she tells you otherwise.”

  Simon winced. He had hoped the game would distract Harriet enough that she would drop the subject. His complicated relationship with Ginny wasn’t something he could talk about to his best friend, let alone to a stranger, no matter how kind she seemed.

  “If I can’t believe her words, then how am I to know anything about her?” he asked as he clutched his mallet in both fists. “I hardly know the woman, I’m not qualified to decide which statements she means and which she doesn’t.”

  Harriet arched an eyebrow as she took a look across the lawn at Ginny. She let out a soft sigh before she turned back to Simon. “You only need to know one thing about her to understand all her motives. She is quick to mistrust. It’s a lesson she learned by your cousin’s hand.”

  Simon froze. From the hatred in Harriet’s eyes he saw she was implying his cousin had done more than take Ginny’s money or be unfaithful to her. “What do you mean by that?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Things weren’t always well between Ginny and Henry.”

  “Because of another man?”

  Again his thoughts turned to Robert Dennison. While his cousin obviously gallivanted around with other women, he doubted Henry would appreciate Ginny looking for comfort outside their marriage. Men like that never did.

  Harriet’s green eyes darkened with immediate anger. “Virginia never would have betrayed her vows like that. No, sir, your cousin was the cause of any strife in their union. Whether it be by the women he bedded or with his cruelty.”

  Simon wrinkled his brow. More and more he was coming to understand the hell Ginny had lived in. If Henry had been unkind to her, as well as unfaithful, she certainly had cause for hatred. It explained why she felt such an animosity toward his family and even toward him.

  “Don’t hurt her, Mr. Webber,” Harriet said as she lifted her mallet from the ground to take her turn. “She’s had enough.”

  Simon watched as his partner crossed the lawn. As she passed by Ginny, she touched her friend’s hand. The troubled look cleared from Ginny’s face for a brief moment, and she gave Harriet a genuine smile. The warmth of the expression gave Simon a jolt of pleasure. What he would give if she’d turn that smile on him.

  His earlier anger somehow bled away and Simon knew he couldn’t leave Westdale. Not yet.

  ***

  Ginny turned a page in her book as she spun a lock of hair around her finger. She didn’t often take her tresses down from the confines of pins and ribbons, but the feel of it around her shoulders now was freeing and satisfying.

  The clock on the library mantel quietly gonged out one in the morning. Ginny let out a sigh as she shut her book. She’d never been a solid sleeper, but her bouts of insomnia had increased in the years since her marriage.

  Once Henry had died, she’d finally begun to get more rest, but the last two weeks since Simon had arrived had once again stolen her sleep. When she did close her eyes, she invariably thought of his hands on her, of his kiss that burned and branded her like fire on ice.

  With a shiver, she stood up to lean closer to the fire. Why couldn’t she control these thoughts, these scandalous desires that had haunted her since the first day she’d seen Simon in Henry’s office? She barely knew the man, and she wasn’t the kind to feel passion and desire at first sight. She’d suffered for such foolishness in the past. But the moment she’d looked into Simon’s eyes, she’d somehow forgotten all that.

  Since then, her feelings for him had only grown. All day she’d watched him. His teasing with Harriet had made her jealous. His true friendship with Adam made her smile. He was kind to her protective servants, even Ingram liked him, and Ingram hadn’t liked anyone in years. And then there was Jack.

  She sank back into her chair. Jack adored Simon. Every night he’d ask her about their guest and whether he still slept in the stables. Each time her son saw Simon, it was as if a light blinked on in both of them.

  She covered her eyes with a sigh. It hurt to try to block people out of her life, though she had no other choice. She wanted so much to let Simon in, to feel the warmth and tenderness he offered her, even if it were just for one night.

  To feel alive again.

  Suddenly Ginny sensed eyes on her. She looked up to the doorway. Simon leaned against the doorjamb starting at her. His blue-green gaze devoured her from head to toe. His crisp, white shirt was unfastened at the collar and he wore no jacket. He was sinful and luscious and everything she wanted and couldn’t have.

  He straightened up as he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Ginny, I didn’t realize you’d be up so late.”

  She rose to her shaky feet, suddenly painfully aware that she was garbed only in a night rail and dressing gown. “S-Simon was there something you wanted?”

  His eyes darkened a shade as he muttered something under his breath in a language she didn’t understand. Then he motioned his dark head to the hallway. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go through some more of Henry’s papers.”

  “Oh.” As their eyes met, she took a step closer. She didn’t want him to leave her alone. She didn’t want him to leave at all. “Pe-perhaps I could accompany you? You may have questions I could answer. And since I’m awake, as well, it seems only natural that we could be…” She shut her eyes before she corrected herself. “That we could work together.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed as he let his eyes move over her again. Then he nodded slowly and motioned to the hallway for her to lead. All the way down to the office, she felt his eyes on her back, burning through her to a secret place she’d forgotten existed.

  By the time they reached the office, she could hardly concentrate, she trembled so much. Simon motioned for her to take the large captain’s chair at the desk. She did so and watched him drag over another. He placed it behind her and sat down. When he leaned forward to look at the paperwork over her shoulder, his warm breath lingered on her neck. It took all her willpower not to lean back into him.

  With trembling hands, she opened the ledger. The lines of numbers blurred together as his scent wafted around her. Simon smelled like heat and the sea and a tang of something masculine and good. Her breath came shorter each time he moved, and despite her denials and refusals she was more and more aware of how much she wanted him.

  Her voice cracked as she said, “Most of this is standard, isn’t it?”

  “Aside from Henry’s braggart descriptions of his activities, yes.” Simon leaned forward. Again his breath caressed her ear and the world started to spin. “Looking at these things must make you unhappy.”

  “No.” She shrugged as she tried to remember how to breathe. “Henry can’t hurt me anymore.”

  She briefly thought of Robert and his investigation, but shoved that aside.

  “But he hurt you so much before.”

  Simon’s hand inched toward hers. She watched it move closer and closer until his palm engulfed her fingers. She spread them and allowed his fingertips to tangle with her own.

  “I know your marriage was more unhappy than you’ve admitted,” he whispered.

  She winced, but didn’t draw her hand away. It seemed he may have found out about Henry’s abuse. Perhaps he’d heard servant’s gossip or even from Harriet.

  “Perhaps no marriage is happy,” she whispered as the strange tingle of tears pricked her eyes.

  She hadn’t actually allowed tears to fall for months. There had been so many times she’d felt their sting but kept them at bay with pure willpower. But now… now with this man beside her, she felt safe enough to allow one to trail down her cheek.

  “No.” He rubbed his thumb along her palm and little tingles shot through her body. Like waves they grew from the source until her whole body sang with pleasure. “My own parents couldn’t even stay together.”

  She leaned her head back until it rested on his shoulder. Simon had shared a painful part of his past. He’d trusted her enough to let her see a glimpse of his soul. P
erhaps it wouldn’t do any harm to return that offer. To let him near her just for one night.

  With a sigh, she turned her head and looked up into his eyes. They were dark with desire and every muscle in his face was taught with the self-control he exercised. Leaning up, she captured his lips with her own and ended the resistance both had tried to keep up.

  He pulled his hand from hers and slid it deep into her hair, massaging her scalp as he traced his tongue along the curves of her mouth. She returned his passion in kind, tasting him, nipping at his lips.

  He pulled her over onto his lap to continue their embrace and she tensed as she waited for fear and even pain. But neither came. Simon’s hands trailed over her back, leaving only pleasant heat in their wake. She arched against his chest as his hand moved to her thigh, massaging the muscle beneath the two thin layers of her nightclothes.

  She’d almost forgotten what it was like to be touched in a way that wasn’t meant to hurt or control. Like Simon had said what seemed like so long ago, she’d forgotten what it was like to feel like a woman. Or perhaps she had not ever known that feeling until now. She wanted more. More than his mere kiss. She wanted him even if she was afraid of joining herself to him.

  She clawed at his buttons. Her fingers were clumsy as she managed to open the top three, but it was enough to glide her hand inside where his body heat was trapped. She hissed out her pleasure as her fingertips tangled through his wiry chest hair and smoothed along muscles earned by hard days at work.

  “Ginny,” he groaned against her mouth. “We-”

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered as she pulled back to her feet. “Don’t tell me to stop.”

  With trembling fingers, she untied her robe and slipped her gown straps over her shoulders. Both fell to the ground around her feet. “I want this. I want you.”

  He shut his eyes with a low moan. “Tomorrow-”

  “I don’t want to talk about tomorrow.”

  She shook her head as she reached out and found his hand. She hesitated, uncertain of what to do. He had no such confusion. Slowly, he guided his hand to her flesh and splayed his fingers across her belly. The chair slid back as he surged to his feet.