The Desires of a Countess (28 page)

“And what?”

Glancing up at her friend, she sobbed, “And I love
him. I’m totally and completely in love with the man. And when he
said we should get married, even though he was saying it was the
only option, my heart soared.”

Harriet’s own eyes filled with tears at Ginny’s
confession. She set down the drinks and rushed to her friend’s side
to embrace her. “Oh Ginny, I’m so happy for you. I thought your
experience with Henry would keep you from allowing yourself
happiness, but when Simon came to Westdale I prayed that would
change. And now all my prayers have come true.”

Ginny shrugged out of her friend’s arms. “No, don’t
you see? It’s horrible and awful.”

She swiped angrily at the tears she couldn’t seem to
control. She’d never cried so much, even when Henry had struck her.
Even the night she’d made sure he’d never do it again.

But enter Simon Webber and all her strength melted
away, replaced by lust and love and the ability to feel pain she’d
hidden in her heart for years.

“Why?” Harriet’s face was full of disbelief. “If you
love him and you’re going to marry him, how could that ever be
bad?”

She let out a sigh of exasperation. “Because he
doesn’t know about Henry. He doesn’t know what I did that night.
And if he ever found out, he’d certainly stop caring for me and
he’d probably send me to the brig.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Harriet snapped as she threw up
her hands. “Do you really think Simon would throw you to the
wolves?”

With a shrug, Ginny shut her eyes. “I don’t know.
He’s always going on about what’s best for Jack. He might decide
having a murderess for a mother won’t be.”

The color had drained from her best
friend’s face at her plain speech and her eyes danced with emotion.
“You
defended
yourself that night.”

Ginny refused to look away from her friend. “I
clubbed Henry over the head with a fire poker.”

Harriet winced at the image. “He might have killed
you.”

“He’d beaten me plenty of times before and he never
had. Simon could see it that way, as well. I can’t take the risk
that he will.”

She shivered as she imagined Simon’s angry eyes.
Henry had been his kin after all. Even if he hated him, he might
not appreciate his murder.

“What are you saying?”

She fought against the emotions that threatened to
take over every time she remembered her situation. “I’m going to be
married to the man I love and I’m never going to be able to tell
him. I’m going to have to push him away like I don’t care about
him, when in reality, I’ll be dying a little each day he’s not with
me. And I’m going to bear him children and be forced to see him in
their eyes. It’s going to be hell.”

Harriet came off her chair like a
bullet and grabbed both Ginny’s shoulders. She shook her twice.
“Unless you
tell him
the truth, all the truth about that night and why you had to
kill Henry. Simon has never done anything to prove he wouldn’t help
you and understand why you did those things that night. How you had
to protect yourself and Jack. Give him the chance, better yet, give
yourself the chance.” She shook her one more time.
“Please.”

Ginny shut her eyes as choices hit her from all
sides. She reeled with all the possibilities and emotions and
decisions she had to make. What was right? What was best? She
didn’t know.

But slowly, one image pushed itself forward through
all the confusion and pain. Simon’s face. He was smiling at her and
she could see in his eyes that he’d never turn away from her, no
matter what she’d done.

Harriet was right. He had proven he would stand
beside her no matter what she did to keep him away. Perhaps she
could make him see what she’d faced that terrible night, and how
quickly things had gotten out of hand.

“Perhaps.”

It took a moment for her to realize she’d said the
word out loud, then Harriet hugged her. “Please, please consider
it. If I know you’ll try than I can-” She stopped abruptly and
pushed from Ginny’s arms.

“You can what?”

Harriet had been acting strangely since she’d come
home, and now that Ginny had cleared some of her own demons from
her mind, she could see her friend was still acting peculiarly.

“Nothing important.” She shook her head with a
blush. “I just want to see you happy.”

Ginny wrinkled her brow. She and her friend had
never kept secrets, the fact that the other woman knew about
Henry’s real cause of death proved that. But now she was facing a
reticent, blushing Harriet whose face told her she wouldn’t reveal
anything further.

“I’ll think about what you’ve said,” Ginny said
cautiously. “For now I have so much to do. I have wedding plans to
make, and I need to send a message to Westdale and let the staff
know of our change of plans. Perhaps I can decide after I’ve
cleared my head a little.”

Harriet let out a sigh of relief. Then her friend
wrapped warm arms around her and squeezed. “Just think about it.
Please, for all of us.”

Ginny let out a shuddering breath. “So, who was this
friend-?” she began, happy to change the focus of the
conversation.

Harriet’s face paled as she leapt back to her feet.
“No one you know. I should change out of this gown. Good
night.”

“G-Good night,” she stammered in shock as she stared
at her friend’s retreating back.

When Harriet had gone, Ginny stood up and looked
into the glowing fire. Telling Simon the truth about the night of
Henry’s death would take a leap of faith on her part. A trust she’d
buried away the first time her late husband struck her. But in the
past few weeks that trust had surfaced again. She’d given it to
Simon before. But this would be her biggest challenge yet.

Because if he didn’t take her confession well, her
whole life could change forever. Her son could be put in danger and
not even her family name could save her. She could only hope that
the love and faith she had in Simon would prove to be well-placed.
And that maybe, somewhere in his heart, he felt some of the same
for her.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ginny jumped as the door behind her shut and she
spun around with a gasp of surprise. Simon almost felt badly about
interrupting her without warning, but then he hadn’t had much time
with her since that fateful night of the ball. And that was nearly
a week before. Now it was time they had a talk. The most important
one they’d ever had.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked as he leaned back
against the door to stare at her.

Her blue eyes met his and a brief moment of
unguarded emotion flashed there before she skillfully covered it.
When would she come to trust him? Would she ever? And if she did,
would she then allow him into her heart, even just the tiniest
bit?

“Aren’t you afraid someone will open that door and
you’ll fall on your-your-”

“My ass?” he finished with a grin.

Pushing off, he came toward her a few steps. Again,
heat filled her gaze and he smiled. No matter what she did to hide
it, she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her. And God, how he’d
missed her. Touching her, tasting her, but more than that, just
being with her. Especially since he’d finally admitted to himself
that he was in love with her.

She nodded with a chuckle that touched his very
heart. If only he could make her laugh like that all the time.

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” he teased,
grateful that they weren’t at odds for the moment. “To see me
sprawled across the hallway floor like an idiot.”

She swatted him across the chest
with some of the papers in her hand. “You
are
an idiot.”

Laughing, he caught her hand and drew it to his
lips, pushing their teasing aside as he kissed her knuckles. She
made a low sound in her throat and pulled her hand away.

“That’s the very thing that got us in this mess, you
know,” she said as she turned away. Even though she tried to hide
it, he saw her shoulders tremble. “The very thing.”

“Actually,” he whispered as he came up behind her
and put one hand on each hip. “This is what got us into this
mess.”

He eased her back up against him and rolled their
hips in a slow circle. She let out her breath in a long sigh and
leaned back in surrender. But only for a moment.

“No, Simon. No. I can’t-we can’t.” She pulled away
and took several skittering steps toward the doorway. When she
looked at him there was as much pain in her face as there was in
his body. “In fact, we should open this door and just reduce the
temptation.”

She grabbed at the handle, but he pushed back
against the wood.

“Why reduce the temptation? We’re getting married,
why avoid doing the things that make us both feel so good? Because
I know you wanted me as much as I wanted you the night of Lady
Hornsbey’s ball.”

He’d been so close to heaven once again and to have
it stolen out from under him was frustrating. Even more frustrating
had been Ginny’s avoidance of him ever since. She refused to see
him alone, always found some reason to run away when he came to
talk to her. What had changed beyond this marriage she so obviously
didn’t want?

And why did that hurt so much? It wasn’t as if she
hadn’t made her feelings clear to him before. It was the love he
felt for her that made her rejection sting so. She didn’t feel the
same way and it killed him. He’d known there was a reason why he’d
always avoided giving his heart. But now he’d done it, and it was
too late to turn back.

Ginny locked eyes with him briefly, then broke the
gaze. “Simon, what we want and what we can have are often very
different things. I forgot that for a while with you, but I can’t
forget it again.”

“Why? Why can’t what you want and what you need be
the same?” He slid his thumb across her cheek.

“They can’t.” She backed away from his touch. “They
just can’t.”

Simon cocked his head. Before she turned her face,
he saw fear in her eyes. The same fear he’d seen there when he’d
first met her in Westdale. He’d thought those fears she associated
with him were gone. Apparently not.

But what was their cause? He’d proven he would never
physically harm her. And he’d done his best to show her he would
protect her and her son if they were threatened in any other way.
What more could she want?

But maybe she was afraid of other things. The same
things that kept Simon up at night. The feelings they’d begun to
develop toward each other. If that were the case, they had a
chance.

“Did you come here for something specific?” she
asked.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “What would you say if
I told you I came here to have my wicked way with you up against
that wall?”

He pointed behind her and she glanced over her
shoulder. He’d been teasing, but the slight glaze in her eyes made
him picture that very clearly. Her with her legs wrapped around him
as he braced himself on the wall and drove into her.

“I’d tell you I don’t have time to do anything
wicked.” She covered her desire with a placating smile. “Really,
Simon. Mama is insisting we make a small splash with the wedding to
show Society that we aren’t affected by any scandal. She claims I
need a dress made and flowers and a whole list of other chores. I
must choose a design from these sketches and…”

He scowled as he crossed the room in three long
strides and grabbed the first sketch on the table. He tossed it to
her. “There. Wear that. It doesn’t matter what you wear, you’ll
look devastating. I didn’t come here to argue or even to have my
wicked way with you.”

“Then why did you come?” she asked as she set aside
the paper he’d picked and crossed her arms.

“To talk to you about the
marriage
.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, exactly why I need a
dress.”

He grabbed her arm to keep her from turning away.
“The marriage, Ginny, not the wedding.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “I don’t think there’s
much more to say on that subject, is there?”

“There are volumes.” He motioned to a chair. She
gave him an exasperated look but sat as he’d ordered. “I’ve been
considering your terms.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Oh?”

“And I’ve changed my mind.” He took a deep breath.
After days of considering whether he should bear his heart to her
or not, he was here. And he had to say the things he’d planned.

“You’ve changed your mind?” she asked in tone that
made it clear how upset she was. “You can’t change your mind. We
had a deal. A gentleman’s agreement.”

“Well, there are two problems with that,” he said as
he reached over to take her hand. “One is that I was under
duress.”

“How?” she asked as she tried to pull away to no
avail. He wasn’t planning on letting her hide this time.

“Your brother knocked me
unconscious not an hour before our so-called bargain. I wasn’t in
my right mind. And second-” He raised her hand to his lips and
kissed the inside of her wrist, then the soft pale flesh of her
inner elbow. She hissed out a sound of pleasure.
“-
you
aren’t a
gentleman.”

“Simon, please,” she whispered.

“Please stop, or please don’t?” he asked. “Are you
even sure anymore?”

“I’m not sure of anything when you do that,” she
admitted as he trailed his lips up to the hem of her short, puffed
sleeve.

“I’m sure of something. I’m sure that I don’t want
to have a marriage with you that exists in name only.”

She stopped struggling against his touch and her
blue eyes came to meet his deliberately. “You don’t?”