Free The Desires of a Countess by Jenna Petersen Page B

misguided trust and beliefs. It wasn’t her
fault.
    Ginny returned to her seat. “He wants
to arrange the game of Pall Mall. Will you come?”
    Harriet shrugged. “Will his famous
valet, first-mate, best friend be the fourth in our
group?”
    Ginny nodded. “Yes. He’s a nice enough
fellow, or at least he seemed to be when I met him. Not as handsome
as Simon, of course, but pleasant.” She smiled as she remembered
the stocky, rugged man. “He almost has a pirateish air to
him.”
    Harriet’s eyes grew wide. “Really?
Well, if I’m to play croquet with a pirate, how can I turn down the
invitation? I’ll be there whenever he wants us to play.”
    Ginny sighed her relief. She needed
Harriet’s support, even if her friend didn’t approve of or
understand her methods.
    “ Thank you.” She gave her a
brief hug. “I know you mean well.”
    As she watched her son run across the
lawn with a giggle, Ginny leaned back with a faded smile. Whether
Harriet agreed or not, she was making the right decision. The
doubts in her head were only caused by nervousness, not the fact
that Simon made her knees quake or caused a strange stirring in her
heart she’d thought would never exist again.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

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