Simply Sinful by Kate Pearce Page A

Harcourt twins, and they were married now.
    Walking and riding in the countryside around Beecham Hall with Abigail had been surprisingly restful, a balm to his troubled soul, in fact. He’d begun to crave the fresh air, clear skies and—her company. She didn’t know of his reputation in London and so expected nothing from him but those things he chose to share with her, those parts of himself he usually kept hidden.
    He half smiled. Who else would have encouraged him to elaborate on his plans for the business and his interest in the new forms of steam locomotion? Certainly not the ladies of the ton , who were far more interested in discussing his stamina in bed.
    Reluctantly, Peter set the last letter aside and reached for Valentin’s. If anything was guaranteed to make his erection disappear, it would be a diatribe from his business partner and former lover. He sighed as he read. Valentin was short and to the point. He wanted Peter to come back and explain himself. He was worried about Peter’s mental state. Enclosed was a sealed note from Sara, who according to Val still knew nothing of Valentin’s decision to keep them apart.
    Peter smiled as the scent of roses mingled with the smell of candle wax.
Peter, where are you? Val says you are out of town and unable to be contacted, but I know something has gone awry between you. Val refuses to share anything with me, insisting any explanation is yours to provide. (How like my dear husband.) I hope he shared our wonderful news with you. If he didn’t I will surely strangle the man and marry you instead. Please come and visit me at your earliest opportunity. Despite what Val has probably said, we both miss you. Your affectionate friend, Sara Sokorvsky
    “Any explanation is mine to provide.” Peter screwed up the note and threw it toward the fire. “How typical of Valentin to lay all the blame on me.”
    He grabbed a piece of parchment from the drawer and spent a good ten minutes attempting to make a decent nib for his pen. He’d write to Sara and congratulate her on her news, assure her all was well and that he would visit as soon as he was able. There was no point in alarming her with his and Val’s troubles. Val knew him well enough to feel secure that Peter would never betray their difficulties to another soul. Especially not his wife.
    Peter scratched his signature at the bottom of the page and addressed the letter to Valentin’s house in Southampton, where Sara preferred to reside. Val’s letter didn’t warrant a reply. Nothing had changed. Peter still felt too raw to cheerfully pick up his friendship as Valentin wanted. He’d done it so often in the past and been grateful to be let back in. Not this time.
    Peter sealed the letter with the Beecham family crest stamped over hot red wax and flexed his fingers. The long clock in the corner struck four as he stared at the pile of letters on the desk. What next then? A swift removal from Lady Beecham’s house on the morrow and a long delayed trip to the north of England where he hoped to trace some of his family.
    Or he could simply return to London and stay in bed with James for a week. Peter shifted in his seat as his cock stiffened. But would James want him once he realized Abigail didn’t? Peter sighed. Probably not. The bond between the Beechams might be unusual, but it was as deep and solid as the bond between Sara and Valentin.
    Sudden envy flooded him. How had all his friends found women to love them? Why was he the only one who was still alone? Perhaps he wasn’t as good at fooling women as he thought. Did they sense the emptiness within him, the lack of self, of family, of substance? He glanced at the shadowed portraits on the wall. Even though Abigail believed she had nothing to offer, she had this. A family name to be proud of and a husband who was willing to go to any lengths to provide her with the child she yearned for.
    His cock hardened as he imagined his seed creating a child with a woman who