Her lips curved into a smile that would’ve captured the fancy of a sterner man than Nick could ever claim to be. “Perhaps we should do something special for him.” She leaned closer. “Tonight.”
“Oh, really? What do you suggest?”
She chuckled. “That we discuss the details later—in private.”
He took her hand, kissing it with a flourish. “My dear Lady Rotherford—the name has a nice ring to it, does it not?—you are truly a woman beyond price.”
“You flatter me, my lord. I am simply considering the delicate ears that might be listening. After all, I wouldn’t want to shock anyone.”
“I believe we’ve already done that,” he said with a trace of chagrin. “What with the hasty marriage and all. Can you imagine what they might be thinking?”
“The usual things one thinks of in situations such as this—unless one of your ancestors reported the events they witnessed yesterday, which seems highly unlikely.”
“I concur. Nor would any of our guests have remained if they’d known the truth.” He studied her carefully. “Still, I cannot think that the real truth would shock anyone.”
Her eyes widened. “The real truth? Whatever do you mean?”
“That I fell in love with you on sight. That your beauty has made a romantic fool of me. That I’ve been writing sonnets to your eyes ever since our first meeting. That I have been—”
She gave his arm a playful slap. “Enough of such flattery, or you will put me to the blush.”
“Ah, but your blushes are so delightful.”
“As are yours.” Her innocent expression contrasted sharply with the meaningful squeeze she gave his thigh beneath the table. “I have one suggestion in particular that might incite a blush from which you may never recover.”
“You intrigue me. Pray continue.”
“I am thinking that we might indulge in a sandwich later.” She paused, frowning. “And though the two slices of bread are a given, I am a loss as to what should be between them—or should I say what will be between them.”
“Oh, my…”
“I take it you approve?”
“Absolutely.”
Our dear William may never be the same.
* * * *
Juliet couldn’t help but wonder at the leaps her imagination had taken since that picnic on the riverbank. Rotherford had already referred to her as an enchanting trollop. Would he continue to see her as such, or would he be repulsed by the wanton turn her mind had taken?
Then again, he hadn’t complained.
Ah, well…if a man didn’t want a woman to behave in such a fashion, he shouldn’t allow her to witness him making love to another man.
Glancing up, she caught William’s eye. He was by her side in an instant. “My lady?”
“I should like another pot of tea,” she said. “Champagne for breakfast doesn’t suit my constitution.”
“As you wish.”
She drew in a breath, wishing every person in the room would vanish, save for herself and the pair of men she had taken as lovers. “I also prefer a quieter atmosphere.”
Tears dampened the corners of her eyes as William nodded his understanding. She longed for a time when she could enjoy breakfast on the terrace with no one but Nick and Will. Far from her father’s censorious tongue, perhaps never to hear an unkind word spoken to her again. To truly know peace…
The earl had been engaged in conversation with Lord Brough, but now snapped at William. “More wine, boy, and be quick about it!”
Startled, Juliet barely managed to stifle a gasp. What a detestable man her father was! Having been treated in a similar manner for most of her life, she’d always felt compassion for the servant class. She longed to take the earl to task for his rudeness, or at the very least give William’s hand a commiserating squeeze.
Almost as though he’d read her thoughts, Rotherford got to his feet. “Since my footman is already engaged in serving my wife, you must allow me, my lord.”
Crossing to the sideboard, he selected a fresh bottle of champagne. He appeared to know what he was about, removing the foil, untwisting the wire cage. However, he didn’t hold the cork steady and twist the bottle, as Juliet had seen footmen do at least a hundred times, but thumbed off the cork. With a loud pop, champagne erupted from the bottle, dousing the earl as the flying cork grazed the top of his head.
“Do forgive me, Clarenhurst,” Rotherford murmured as he filled the sputtering earl’s glass. “A fine thing for a new son-in-law to do to his wife’s noble parent.”
Juliet didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or feign concern, but Rotherford had climbed yet another notch in her esteem. Perhaps two or three. As he handed her father a napkin, her admiring gaze caught his barely perceptible wink. No, he wasn’t one to be bullied, and anyone who bullied those he loved did so at their peril—even if said bully happened to be an earl.
Later that evening, her husband would receive extra kisses—or whatever reward he might choose—and she would make her apologies to William on her father’s behalf. And then there was that special treat to recompense Will for not being part of the wedding ceremony.
Much more of this and I shall have to write out a list.
But, of course, a list might be discovered, and discovery was to be avoided at all costs. Once again, Juliet knew the delight of a sharing a private joke. Nevertheless, she was bursting with excitement as her wedding night drew near.
Several of Rotherford’s guests took the wedding as their cue to depart, no doubt understanding the bride and groom’s desire for privacy. Unfortunately, Juliet’s parents weren’t among them. She almost wished a wedding journey had been planned—or that she had been married from Clarenhurst Hall rather than Rotherford’s estate, which would’ve given them an excuse to leave. Instead, the earl would be the one to decide when the party was over.
Later that same afternoon, while her parents and several other guests played a game of whist, she and Rotherford engaged in a game of billiards. Juliet was about to be soundly trounced by her new husband when William entered, seeking a private word with his master.
“Really?” the viscount remarked upon hearing William’s whispered message. “Hopefully the rash will prove to be nothing serious. Still, you know how upset people tend to get over such things. Best to summon Dr. Rush.”
Lord Brough looked up from his cards. “A rash, did you say?”
Rotherford nodded. “The young son of one of my tenants has developed spots. Most likely it is simply a case of the measles or the chicken pox, but his grandmother will have it that the child suffers from smallpox.” He glanced at William. “Have you heard of any other cases in the vicinity?”
“None, my lord,” William replied. “Perhaps this is the first.”
Cards went flying as Juliet’s mother leaped to her feet. “We must leave at once!” She turned to Juliet. “And you should, too, my dear. Perhaps a wedding trip to Brighton is in order.”
“My dear Countess,” said Rotherford. “I see no need to panic. We saw the lad, what, two days ago, perhaps? You were with us, William. Did he appear ill to you?”
William never had the opportunity to reply. Juliet’s mother blanched to the roots of her hair. “My daughter has been exposed to smallpox?”
“Oh, come now,” Rotherford protested. “The boy was playing with a puppy in the yard as we drove past. Juliet only waved at him.”
“For God’s sake, Elena, calm yourself,” the earl admonished. He turned to Rotherford. “She is overreacting, of course. Nevertheless, we should take our leave.”
Juliet wasn’t fooled. Her father would never have considered his wife’s wishes unless he feared contracting the infection himself. “Come, Mother,” she said. “I’ll help you pack.”
* * * *
Two hours later, she and Rotherford stood on the front steps waving farewell to the last of their visitors, her mother’s dire predictions and admonitions still ringing in her ears.
Juliet
sighed with relief. “I thought they would never leave.”
“Me, either,” Rotherford said. “William deserves a medal for this.”
“At the very least.”
Cocking his head, he shot her an inquisitive look. “What was your first clue?”
“You mean aside from the fact that the only child we saw that day was a girl playing with a kitten?”
He winced. “Oh. Right. That would do it, of course.”
“Really, Nick, I should have thought you would be a better liar, what with all the clandestine meetings you and Will must’ve had.”
“True. I must be slipping—perhaps due to the excitement of acquiring a wife.”
“If that’s the case, I hope you recover soon, my lord,” she said. “Don’t forget, we have a secret to keep.”
“We do indeed.” Turning, he held out a hand. “Shall we make that sandwich now?”
“By all means.”
Chapter Eight
She called me Nick.
It was only to be expected. After all, they were now husband and wife. She should call him by his given name, aside from the fact that sex had a way of ripping away such tawdry things as titles and formalities.
Still, he couldn’t help but be pleased. Kissing her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I’ll show you to your room first. I would imagine my industrious staff has already given it a thorough cleaning and moved your belongings into it.”
“My belongings?” she said with a roll of her eyes. “There can’t have been many, but yes, I would like to see the room.”
Rotherford escorted her up the stairs to the east wing. The household staff had indeed been busy. The room was clean and well-aired and the bed made up with fresh linens. A pleasant, feminine room with floral wallpaper and gilt-edged furniture, it boasted a window overlooking the rose garden.
“You also have your own sitting room here and, of course, a bed should you ever wish to sleep alone.”
She hesitated on the threshold. “Will you ever wish to sleep alone?”
He’d spoken without considering how she might take that suggestion. If his parents had ever slept in the same bed, he wasn’t aware of it.
No one knows that I sleep with William, either.
“You may do as you please, my dear. I would, however, prefer that we be together.”
She nodded, but seemed strangely preoccupied. When she finally entered the room, she glanced about briefly before moving toward the window, absently sweeping a hand over the coverlet as she passed. “And I presume you would prefer that we sleep in your bed.”
“I would,” he replied. “It is rather larger than this one.”
His gaze encompassed the room, wondering what it contained that might have disturbed her—until he spotted the door which led down a short hall to the maid’s room. Yet another factor he hadn’t considered. As his valet, William had a similar room on the other side of the master’s chambers. He didn’t sleep there, of course, but he was always up early to see to Nick’s needs, bringing water for shaving, his morning tea, and such. Her maid would do the same for her.
Which could pose a problem. He’d eliminated the possibility of being discovered with his lover by making it clear that he only wanted William to attend him in the mornings, but a lady’s maid…
“Do you employ a personal maid?” he asked. “If not, I could—”
“No, I don’t.” She stood before the window, her back toward him. “My needs have been quite simple up to this point, and my mother’s maid has always provided what little service I require. However, as your wife, I imagine that those needs will change.”
“They will, indeed.” As his viscountess, even while living in the country many of her duties would be social ones. “Are you interested in venturing out into London society? Attending balls and the like?”
She turned to face him, her short laugh containing no amusement whatsoever. “Never having been to a ball or the like, I wouldn’t know.”
“And now I’ve placed you in a situation where we would probably do best to avoid them,” he said with chagrin. “I only go into town when I must. I do have a house there, but reside in it as seldom as possible.”
She nodded. “You prefer to remain here with William.”
“As my valet, he would go with me in any case, although it is more private here.” He hesitated. “I do not intend to keep you cloistered in the country, Juliet. I will not make you a prisoner as your father did.”
She laughed—again, without mirth. “If I thought that, we would not be having this conversation.” She glanced at the window. “I doubt I could ever feel like a prisoner here. You have such a lovely garden.” Her voice had grown soft, and her gaze strayed to the floor, reminding him of the first real conversation he’d ever had with her. “Eventually, there may be children to consider. Growing up in the country is preferable, but even here there would be tutors and governesses…”
A sharp pang pierced his heart. “You are already regretting your decision.”
“No. I don’t regret it. However, I don’t believe we thought it through very well. Keeping secrets has been amusing thus far, but maintaining that secrecy will be difficult. Servants tend to know everything that goes on in a household. I find it hard to believe that none of them suspects the relationship you have with William.”
“I have never given them evidence to suspect anything of the kind. No one has any reason to resent him, either. I pay him no more than I would any other valet—and he does double duty as a footman.”
She smiled ruefully. “Forgive me for putting such a damper on our wedding night. I should be rejoicing at my good fortune in having two men to care for me. One who is now my husband and another who claims to be my slave.”
“But I am your slave, my lady.”
She gasped as William entered through the doorway to Rotherford’s own chamber. “You see how easily one can be overheard?” She paused, shuddering. “My father’s servants used to spy on me—no doubt to ensure that I did nothing further to disgrace the family name.”
“You will find a much different atmosphere here,” William said. “Rotherford is a kind and generous master, and the other servants already hold you in high esteem. They have been quite anxious to see their lord marry and start a family of his own.” He glanced at Nick. “They do not like to see you so lonely.”
“If indeed I was lonely, I shall never be so again.” He dropped an arm around Will’s shoulders. “Tell me, did you enjoy the ceremony?”
“As much as one can who is merely an observer,” William replied. “I did enjoy your performance at breakfast, however.”
“I rather thought you might,” Nick said, giving Will a swift kiss on the cheek. “Particularly since it was done to avenge you.”
Juliet smiled, this time with genuine amusement. “I have never seen my father in such a state—nor have I ever seen my mother so anxious to leave a party. Smallpox, indeed! You are quite a pair.”
“Aren’t we, though?” Nick said. “But then, you are quite a remarkable woman.” Nudging William, he continued, “You would not believe the astonishing suggestion she made earlier. We truly have corrupted her.”
“How so?”
“She wants to spend our wedding night making sandwiches of all things!”
Will arched a brow. “Sandwiches? How are sandwiches corrupt?”
Nick rolled his eyes, affecting an exasperated demeanor. “She wants you to be the middle!”
William actually blushed. Round-eyed, he turned to Juliet. “You are not serious.”
“Oh, but I am,” she assured him. “Since you were unable to take part in the wedding ceremony, we thought we should make it up to you in some way.”
William shot Nick a questioning look.
“Her idea,” Nick said, throwing up his hands. “Not mine.”
“My lady, I must say I am astonished, amazed—and aroused.”
* * * *
He wasn’t funning with her, eit
her. If Will had ever in his life attained such an instantaneous erection, he couldn’t remember it.
Nick’s amused gaze drifted to Will’s groin. “My dear sir,” he drawled. “I do believe she got to you with that one.”
“Did I really?” Juliet asked, agog with curiosity. “Let me see. Take off your clothes, William.”
Nick arched a brow. “Got over your moodiness in a hurry, did you not?”
“Forgive me,” she said, her smile apologetic. “I let my worries get the better of me. However, there is something about the three of us being together that makes me believe that anything is possible.”
“Do you mean to say that I alone cannot make you feel invincible?” Nick demanded, his attempt at annoyance spoiled by the twinkle in his eyes.
She brushed aside his complaint with a wave of her hand. “Let us not quibble, my lord. We are a threesome, not a couple. It is understandable that we should feel stronger together.”
“Quite true,” Nick agreed. His querulous gaze landed on William’s trousers. “I distinctly heard Juliet give you a direct order, William. Why are you still dressed?”
Will’s cock was so hard it didn’t even bounce when he dropped his pants.
“Ohh…” Juliet sighed, falling to her knees. She sat back on her heels for a long moment, devouring his prick with her eyes. “Let me suck you, Will.”
Moving closer, he slid his cockhead over her lips.
“So hard and shiny,” she whispered. “So…” His cock pulsed when she kissed it, sending clear fluid gushing from his slit and into her mouth. “…delicious.”
William’s balls drew up in his sac, and his knees threatened to give way beneath him. He bit his lip, trying to hold on, trying to stay sane. “My lady…please…”
“Better suck him, my love,” Nick advised. “I do believe he’s about to blow in your face.”
With a sharp exhale, William did just that, bathing her face with spurt after spurt of thick cream. Juliet moaned, licking her lips.
The Sextet Presents… The Lady Takes a Pair [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7
