But he couldn’t have her, so he had to transform his frustration and desire into sweat. Forget Ginny. Forget what they’d done the night before and how right she’d felt in his arms.
On the next swing the hammer hit his finger. He swore loudly as he tossed the tool across the room. It skidded on the wood floor and hit the opposite wall.
He was a miserable failure. No matter what he did, the images kept coming and brought unwanted emotions and inconvenient physical reactions with them.
Shutting his eyes, he threw himself into the new chaise that had arrived that morning. The other had been so beyond repair that he’d had it destroyed and paid for another from his own purse.
And why? To make Ginny smile.
“Damn it.”
He rested his head against the back of the chair and looked at the high ceiling above. From the time he was a boy, his mother had pounded family responsibility into him like a mantra. From the age of nine, he’d tried to do the right thing, the thing that would erase some of the destruction his father had caused.
Even when he’d left England to follow in his ne’er-do-well father’s footsteps, it had been about proving to himself he would come back. About buying back some of what his mother had lost and sacrificed over the years.
Do what’s right, do what’s best.
But was it best to take Ginny like she was his mistress? To interrupt her mourning even if it was for a man she didn’t love? Instead of coming here and helping Ginny and Jack, he’d thrown her life into a tailspin.
Simon swore again, this time more colorfully as he rose to his feet and snatched the hammer up from the floor to return to his repair of the wall. He was just like his father after all. He’d traded responsibility for pleasure. Eventually he’d probably throw all duty to the wind. Making love to Ginny was just the beginning of the erosion of his values. He could only shudder to think about what would be next.
As he slammed the head of the hammer against another nail, the cottage door opened. He paused to watch Ginny enter the room with Jack at her side. She was gorgeous, even more beautiful this morning than she had been the night before, though he wouldn’t have believed that was possible. Her red hair was back from her face and her luminous, pale skin was striking against the black of the gown she wore.
He stopped. She was wearing black. Mourning colors.
“Mr. Webber!”
Jack yanked him from his thoughts as the child ran across the room to jump into Simon’s arms. He was surprised by just how happy he was to see the little boy. In the short time he’d been there, Jack had become a part of his life, a part he realized he wouldn’t be able to let go of easily when he returned to The Keeper.
He swung the boy up and around in a circle, though he never took his eyes off Ginny. At a closer inspection the dark smudges under her eyes indicated she’d slept no better than he had. And though she maintained a cool expression, her hands trembled at her sides before she hid them behind her back.
But the black gown still caught his eye more than anything else about her. In all the weeks since he’d been there, she’d never worn her mourning attire. But now, just hours after they’d given in to the desire they both felt, she’d somehow found it necessary to put on widow’s weeds. It was a clear message. One that slapped him across the face.
“You’ve done so much with this place,” she said as she stepped forward and turned around in a circle to admire his handiwork. “I hardly recognize it.”
He set Jack’s feet on the floor with a grin for the child, before he turned his gaze back to Ginny. She’d put on that mask of ice that he so hated. The one he’d finally melted the night before. Now that he knew the passionate women inside of her, he found it difficult to return to the way things had been.
“Yes, I hoped you wouldn’t see the past when you came here if I changed it.”
She turned to face him in parted-lip surprise. “You redesigned the cottage for my comfort?”
He shrugged. “You’re the one who must live here on the estate.”
She nodded her head and the emotion she’d shown was quickly buried. “Jack, do you remember when we passed by Mr. Scott at the gate?”
The little boy turned to his mother. “Yes, Mama.”
“Well, why don’t you run down and say hello to him while I have a conversation with Mr. Webber?”
“Yes, Mama!”
With the little boy’s blue eyes dancing, he ran out the door and down the short path to where Adam was pulling weeds at the gate. Ginny watched him with a smile until Adam had taken him under his wing, then shut the door. When she faced Simon, her smile was gone and her eyes were clouded.
Simon drew back his shoulders to steel himself for a fight. After the reprieve of the previous night, it looked like the battle was on again.
***
Ginny drew in a long breath to calm herself before she turned to face Simon. It was so hard to look at him, to see his bright sea eyes and the smooth curve of his lips. Those things were made for her to get lost in, to touch. Both were activities she couldn’t do again. Ever.
And why did he have to say he’d changed the cottage for her? When she looked around, she no longer saw the haven where Henry had taken his paramours, but a sunny retreat where she’d be proud to have a friend stay for an extended visit. He’d given that to her, and now she had to force herself to push him away. It wasn’t fair.
But what was?
She opened her mouth to speak, but he was faster. “I’m sorry.”
She shut her eyes. His sense of responsibility was one of his greatest qualities. One she was about to use against him.
“I’m sure you are,” she choked out as she ducked his gaze. She could do this if she could forget that he was the man who had given her such pleasure with his body. And so more with his deeds. “But…” She glanced up.
He stared at her as he waited for her to continue. She hated herself for what she was about to do. But what did she always tell Jack when he had to take medicine? Just a little hardship and then it would be over. She took a shuttering breath.
“I think it would be best if we don’t let what happened between us last night ever happen again.” She had to physically force her next statement. “In fact, I think it would be better if we didn’t spend any time around each other at all.”
The hurt that flitted across his face surprised her. After hours apart, she’d convinced herself she would be far more upset than he when she cut him off, but now she wasn’t so certain.
For a long time, Simon didn’t speak. He just stared at her with a blank face that told her nothing of his mind or heart. Finally he said, “You’re wearing black.”
She couldn’t read the emotions in his words, but drew back nonetheless. Yes, the black gown she’d chosen for the day had been a statement to him, but it was supposed to be a subtle one. Not one a man like him would overtly notice.
“I-I am still officially in mourning. Henry only passed a few months ago. Last night only reminded me that I can’t let my loneliness make me vulnerable.”
Simon reeled back a few steps. The pain she’d seen initially rushed back, along with a healthy portion of guilt. Both were easy to read in the way he moved, the way he looked at her.
“You feel as though I took advantage?”
Every part of her wanted to scream no. To tell him what he’d given her last night was a gift, not a curse. That if she could have her way, she’d offer herself to him again right then and there.
But she pushed those feelings down, burying them deep in the recesses of her breaking heart. “I’m sure that wasn’t your intent. But the fact that my husband and I were estranged only makes my situation more complicated.”
Her voice sounded odd to her ears. Like the words were forced. But then, they were. She hated every moment she had to lie to Simon, hated every time his face contorted with the impact of each hateful word she said.
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse. “Much more complicated.”
> She waited for him to elaborate, but he just stared at her with unreadable eyes and expression. When it became evident he had nothing more to say, she choked out, “Perhaps it would be best if you returned to London or your ship. Just not here where we’ll both have regrets.”
Of course, all her regrets would be about rejecting him. She wouldn’t regret the sweet passion she’d found in his arms if she lived three more lives.
Again, his response was a long, harsh silence that filled the room in a way more painful than if he’d chosen to argue with her. That was what she’d prepared for, words, not the torture in his eyes.
When he did speak, his voice was low. “I would do anything to ease your discomfort.”
She let out a sigh of relief as she dipped her head. This was going to work. A surprising sense of disappointment filled her.
“But-”
She lifted her gaze. “But?”
“I have a duty to your son that I can’t abandon, no matter how uncomfortable it is for both of us.” His mouth thinned into a frown.
Confusion filled her as she took a step toward him. “So you won’t do as I ask?”
He let out a long sigh. “I believe you’re right that being here together would be difficult, and not just for you.”
Was he saying being with her without being able to touch her would be difficult for him, as well? Her resolve was faltering with each passing moment.
“Simon…”
He raised a hand to cut off her remaining words. “No matter what occurred between us last night, I was going to propose the solution I’ll present to you now.”
“Solution?”
The only solution she could think of was her own. He would leave. Life would return to normal and she could focus all her attention on keeping Robert from finding out the truth. All while she allowed herself hot dreams of Simon’s hands on her skin.
He reached into his trouser pocket and retrieved a wrinkled note. “I received word yesterday that there is to be a celebration in London in honor of Princess Charlotte’s wedding. I’m sure you’ve heard this news yourself.”
Actually, she hadn’t. She’d cut herself off from Society long ago, and found that self-imposed isolation agreeable. Still, if the celebration made Simon leave, even if it were just for a while, she could formulate another plan while he was gone.
“Well, if you feel you must attend, I certainly think you should.”
To her surprise, Simon tilted back his head and let out a long laugh. Though the sound was tinged with bitterness, she wasn’t immune to the way it wound its way through her and made her ache. A lifetime filled with his laughter seemed like a very pleasant thing. It was too bad it could never be.
“My dear lady, despite my relationship to a member of the ton and my wealth, a common man such as myself would never be received at a Royal celebration. No, I was talking about you.” He leveled his gaze at her and her heart fluttered.
“I-I don’t understand.” Actually, she was beginning to understand quite well, but she couldn’t force herself to believe it.
He cocked his head with an exasperated look that told her he knew she understood his meaning completely. “Part of my duty is to protect Jack’s future.”
She shook her head with vigor. “And what does that have to do with London or me?”
“You need to attend these functions in order to maintain a good position in Society for Jack and for the title he will inherit in the future. Besides, it will allow you to spend time with your own family. And you and I won’t have to be in such-” His eyes darkened to an impossible green-blue. “Close quarters.”
Her face contorted in horror as she took a few steps toward him. “You’re suggesting that I go to London and participate in some ridiculous celebration? Need I remind you that I am in mourning?”
She winced at the words. If that excuse was beginning to sound like a pathetic crutch to her, Simon was certainly intelligent enough to see through it.
He pursed his lips as if having this conversation were a trial. “Well, of course you wouldn’t be courting! But you could make a few appearances, visit your friends. I’ve heard your sister is expecting her first child soon and I know you weren’t able to attend your brother’s wedding last year.”
Her vision blurred with tears. How did he know all those things? She’d never discussed Audrey or Noah with him. With a shake of her head, she turned away. Of course, he’d had her researched before he arrived in order to have a plan when they met. But he obviously hadn’t researched enough or he would know that she preferred the distance between her and her family. Her mother had preached propriety and suitable match to her, then smiled while her sister and brother had each married for the kind of love she’d never been allowed to pursue.
“You look furious.”
Ginny turned her glare at Simon, who stood waiting for her response to his suggestion. She drew in a deep breath. She had to remain calm.
“I have no interest in seeing my family,” she managed through clenched teeth.
“That’s silly.” He shook his head. “Jack should have the privilege of knowing all his relations.”
The panic she’d been trying so desperately to keep at bay washed over her in an irrepressible wave. This was exactly the kind of control she had feared from Simon since the day she was informed of his impending arrival. Now it was a reality.
“You don’t know,” she whispered.
Her protest fell on deaf ears.
“I’ve met your brother a few times. Lord Woodbury seems like a good fellow. I’m sure-”
“You’re sure? You don’t understand anything.” She couldn’t control her voice as it went up a notch. “I’m not going to London and I’m not seeing my family. You don’t know what my son needs. And you certainly don’t know what I need!”
A muscle worked in Simon’s jaw as he took a step toward her. Now they were nose-to-nose, and she could feel his anger through every fiber. Yet, it didn’t frighten her as much as it made her knees go weak when he leaned into her.
“It is exactly because I do know what you need-” His eyes raked over her from head to toe. “Far too well, that I propose this solution. And I’m not asking you to go, I’m telling you that you will go.”
She clenched her teeth harder and fought the urge to break their gaze. This was a battle of wills and she couldn’t show how weak she was to his proximity and body heat. “No, I shall not.”
Though she wouldn’t have claimed it to be impossible, he moved even closer. Now they were less than a breath apart.
“Oh, yes you will. If you’re unsure about being alone, bring Harriet. But in two days time, you and I and your son will be on our way to London. Even if I have to drag you there.” He took in a deep breath and turned away. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy with the way things are, but the decision has been made. I’ve already sent word for your London estate to be readied. I suggest you go prepare yourself, as your time is very short.”
Ginny felt the urge to let out a string of curses and stomp her feet like a child. But she didn’t. She had to maintain her dignity. So she glared at him one last time, then gathered her black skirt into her hand and swept from the cottage with her head held high.
At the bottom of the gate, she caught a shuddering breath as she took Jack’s hand. Adam looked up from his planting with a half-smile. “You all right, my lady?”
“Your friend is a lout!”
And with that, she stomped down the path toward the house. But with each step she took away from the cottage and Adam’s good-natured laughter, the more she fought to hold back her tears. She couldn’t go to London. She couldn’t see her family. She couldn’t start over.
Chapter Eleven
Ginny paced across Harriet’s parlor, twisting her gloves in her hands. Her friend watched with arched eyebrows as she pivoted for the tenth time. As much as she tried to control it, Ginny had no doubt her frustration was clear.
“Can you think of any way I can avoid th
is mess?” she asked as she threw herself back into a chair.
“Thank goodness. I was beginning to worry my rug wouldn’t survive this latest upset,” Harriet said with a small smile. When Ginny stared back at her without even a twitch of a grin, her friend sighed. “I have to wonder what brought on this sudden command. Why would Simon demand you quit the country side for London?” She gave a shrug before she lifted her teacup for a lady-like sip.
Ginny sunk her teeth into her lip. Well, the time had come to confess. No matter how embarrassing it was, Harriet could only help if she was made aware of the whole truth.
“Simon and I… made love.”
With a choking sound, Harriet spit tea across the room. Ginny dodged the hot liquid before she covered her head with her hands. Her friend coughed for a moment while she wiped tea from her chin. Finally, when Harriet had pulled herself together, she cleared her throat.
Ginny raised her eyes with aching slowness to see her friend of many years staring at her with expectant eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest and one slippered foot tapped beneath her gown.
“Explain,” she ordered with little fanfare.
Ginny nodded. Yes, that little declaration did demand an explanation. “There has been an attraction between us from the start and as you know, we have kissed more than once.”
Harriet smiled and Ginny glared.
“No need to gloat. At any rate, we were alone in the house late last night. I offered to help him go through Henry’s books. One thing led to another, and we-we gave in to our mutual desire.”
“Oh my.” Harriet’s eyes grew wide. “How was it?”
“Harriet!” Ginny gasped with a blush. It wasn’t proper to talk about such things, even to a friend.
Except she wanted to tell someone. To try to explain these feelings that had been growing inside of her since she’d first felt Simon’s touch.
“It’s an entirely reasonable question.” Harriet tilted her head.
Ginny stared at her feet as she tried to express how making love to Simon was. But how could she put the heat, the passion, into words that would fully explain? All she had to do was think of Simon running his hands down her body and she tingled with desire again. There was no way to make another person understand that with mere words. Finally she whispered, “It was lovely.”
The Desires of a Countess Page 10