The Desires of a Countess (14 page)

And using their lovemaking seemed to
be the best and fastest way to do that. God, she hated the thought.
Touching Simon and being touched by him was the first good thing
that had happened to her in a long time. The first time she’d felt
so wonderful in years. But she couldn’t take the risk with Jack’s
future. She had no choices.

Just as Henry had always wanted her
life to be.

As Nora buttoned her dress and began
to fix her hair, Ginny hardened herself. She had no choice. She had
to forget her regrets and do what was best for Jack.

Now if she could only face Simon
without him bringing her to her knees with desire.

Simon pounded a nail into the new wall
of the cottage with all his might. Pulling another from his pocket,
he did the same, reveling in the loud, ugly sound. At least the
noise blocked out the voice in his head that kept reminding him of
Ginny and the way she’d responded while they made love.

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.