It almost prompted him to go straight to her and grant her plea of a kiss, so he could claim her and keep her safe. Only his own doubts held him back. What look, he wondered, would shine in her eyes when she opened them? Would she see him and smile, or be disappointed? He wasn’t refined and fashionable like Will. His lover was wiry and light on his feet, whereas Percy was broad across the shoulders and danced badly.
Will had eyes that melted hearts, wide and blue like the sky on a summer’s day. Percy’s were a mottled mélange of holly green and tawny, and he had to weigh a constant war on his bushy eyebrows. Miss Marsh would probably mistake him for a rabid beast and run screaming from him.
The beast had been his nickname ever since his nursery days.
Will always claimed he fucked like one.
Will chose that moment to return to the green, having set out with the other men. He’d presumably doubled back once their attention was diverted. “All sorts of tongues will be wagging if you don’t stop staring at her.”
“Not unless Jack Frost whispers into their ears or the snowmen hereabouts have voices,” he replied. The thickening snowfall had chased almost everyone indoors now. Only the chestnut seller and a few of the most foolhardy urchins remained.
“How long do you suppose she intends to stand there?” Will asked. He blew into his cupped hands to warm them. “She must be frozen through, I know I am.”
“Then mayhap we should offer to warm her.”
Will smiled shrewdly at him. “I was just about to suggest as much. A kiss would seem to be a perfect way to state our intentions.”
Many marriages were informally declared beneath the kissing bough each year, Percy’s parents among them. It’d also been where he and Will had first explored their attraction to one another.
“Both of us together, or do you wish to address her alone first?” he asked.
Will slapped him on the back, pushing him firmly forward toward the oak. “Together, of course. Let’s sally forth as we mean to continue.”
Chapter Three
Viola knew she was being observed. Every year she attracted a little group of onlookers who thought her hilarious for even imagining someone might kiss her. Maybe she was a fool for believing it, but since the only way she could hope to leave her father’s house was as a wedded woman and as she was only permitted one night of freedom each year, then what other option did she have than to believe in miracles?
Please, she silently prayed. Please bring me someone. I don’t care if he’s short, round and ruddy or built like a whippet. Just make him kind, willing to listen, and prepared to see her as she was, instead of how the rest of society perceived her. Somewhere out in the world, there had to be a man like that.
A deep sigh left her throat when whoever was watching her grew closer. She listened to the crunch of footsteps against the snow-crusted grass and waited for Tom to bark at her. For whom else would it be besides her brother? Perhaps one of the ragged village children might venture close enough to lob a snowball. She winced pre-emptively, but when after several moments neither snowball nor instruction had come, her senses screamed out for more information.
The simplest thing would be to open her eyes, but part of her little ritual hinged on her keeping them shut tight.
Was it? Could it be a man?
No, two men, she corrected herself, given the crunch of footsteps upon the frozen grass. Her future beau supported by a friend, perhaps?
They drew closer, perhaps close enough to touch if she reached out her hand. The scent of damp wool and spices blew to her on the breeze, along with an impression of heat and something else. Something mysterious and masculine, that she didn’t quite recognise, but turned up the corners of her mouth all the same.
Finally it seemed her wish would be granted. Her lips parted expectantly. Tom was watching over her, and he’d have chased any miscreants away, so this man had to be a worthy match. Oh, God, please let him be kind.
Warm breath buffeted her face, heating her skin and causing her heart to thud inside her chest. However, her suitor did not kiss her on the lips as she’d always supposed he would. Instead, he grazed one cheek with a caress, and then the other. Viola held her breath awaiting the final denouement, once done she would open her eyes and face her fate. Only for the impossible to occur—he kissed her on both cheeks at once.
Her eyes shot open immediately to find not one man before her, but two, both with brown hair, and alike enough to be related, though of very different builds. The man on the left was slender, and had side-whiskers, while the other man was broad and square-jawed. His smile made dimples in his cheeks.
Viola’s mouth dropped open. No one had ever stared at her in such open admiration before, not during her coming out or at any time since. A strange fluttery sensation filled her chest and spread out across her body, chasing away the pinch of the frost.
“Good evening, Miss Marsh. I hope we haven’t startled you,” said Mr Smiley-Dimples. “I wonder if you might grant me a wish.” He briefly removed his hat, revealing curly brown hair while he bowed to her.
“Likewise,” said Mr Side-Whiskers. He didn’t bow. Instead he caught hold of her hand and lifted her fingers so that he could kiss their tips, before sweeping his gaze upwards to the mistletoe strung between the branches above them.
“You both…You both wish to kiss me?” She gave a little squeak of surprise. This was quite beyond even her wildest imaginings. How incredible that two men should desire her, when she’d hardly dared hope that even one would find her worthy. Of course, this left her in the unfortunate position of having to choose between them, since she couldn’t very well kiss them both no matter how exciting that prospect might seem. No, to do so would only spell trouble as surely as it had the last time. The very reason people had been so thoroughly scandalized over her seduction was that she’d been compromised by two men rather than one.
“Um…well…I’m not really certain how to decide between you.” She gave a nervous laugh, prompting Mr Smiley-Dimples to take hold of her other hand and gently rub circles into her palm. “Maybe if you introduced yourselves I might be better able to make a choice. I don’t think we know one another, do we?”
She felt quite sure she’d remember them if they did.
Mr Smiley-Dimples shook his head. “Not as yet, but we’ve long admired you from afar. Allow me to do the honours. I am Percy Gilling, and this is my cousin William, Lord Ricborough.”
Lord Ricborough proceeded to press his soft lips to her inner wrist, in the gap between the edges of her glove and her sleeve, causing her mouth to form an O and a tiny mewl to escape her throat. She fancied she might have to watch herself around Lord Ricborough. Already she felt drawn to him and certain parts of her felt interestingly heavy and that was after only a few seconds acquaintance, lord only knows what a longer friendship might result in.
She gazed at him, certain she would very much like to kiss him, but then there was Mr. Gilling to consider too, with his soft eyes and warming smile. Maybe what she ought to do was to shut her eyes again, count to ten and see which of them delivered, except of course, they would probably both do so.
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m rather at a loss as to how to proceed.” She looked around, wondering if Tom was on hand and could offer any guidance, but she couldn’t quite spot him. In fact, there wasn’t anyone around at all anymore. There was only her and the two gentlemen upon the green. Nervousness and something else—was it excitement—tingled in her nose and through her breast.
This was bad. Very bad. If somebody happened upon them, the she’d be accused of the same deeds that had ruined her life four years ago. So why wasn’t she rushing to leave? Why was she staring at them in wonder with hope in her heart?
“Perhaps you could kiss us both,” Lord Ricborough suggested, confirming that ravishment was their intent and not anything more honourable, such as proposing to her. “I certainly don’t have any objections to that. Do you, Gilling?”
V
iola suspected that he already knew that the other man didn’t.
“Did Tom set you up to this?” she asked. It would be just like him to play such a horrid trick, although usually he restricted himself to placing toads inside her footwear or short-sheeting her bed. “Where is he? Is he hiding, watching this?” What did he hope to prove? Did he merely intend to embarrass her because he thought her actions stupid, or did he intend to prove that she was just wanton as ever?
“Tom is not aware of our intent.”
Yes, their intent. She apprehensively pressed her teeth into her lower lip. “Which is what exactly?” Not just to seek kisses, she was certain.
“To talk to you,” replied Mr Gilling. “To ascertain your position on certain things.”
“And offer a proposition,” finished Lord Ricborough. “You see I’m looking for a wife, but no ordinary young lady will do.”
“Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m quite ordinary,” she replied, as a shock wave of delight rippled through her body.
“We don’t think so,” they replied in unison, making them all smile.
“Ordinary ladies, don’t get caught pleasing two men,” Lord Ricborough continued.
“Oh!” she said, finally understanding, and yet not understanding. “No, I don’t suppose they do.” She guessed that did rather make her unique, but not in a terribly attractive way. This probably ought to be the point when she pleaded her innocence, and explained how it had all been a frightful misunderstanding, but for the first time ever something made her hold her tongue. “I’m still not entirely sure that I follow.”
Lord Ricborough nodded. “Allow me to explain. Put very simply, and I hope you don’t find the notion too scandalous, Miss Marsh, Percy and I are lovers, thus whatever young lady I choose for my wife must not only be able to accept that fact, but be willing to welcome him into her bed too.”
Viola moistened her lips, hardly able to figure out what he was saying to her. She had until this moment, no notion of the fact that two men could love one another in such a way, and as for whether she was willing to allow both of them into her bed. Well, mayhap if she had some notion of what that precisely entailed she might have strenuously objected. As it was, bubbles of joy filled her insides at the notion of being desired, when everyone had stated so ardently that no man would ever find her so.
“And you believe me to be this woman, because of what happened before?”
“Not only that. You’re beautiful as well.”
She had been right to hold back from telling the truth, though she supposed at some point they might realise when they saw how innocent she really was about what happened within the marriage bed. She freed herself of their hold so that she could pace a little. “What you’re suggesting is scandalous.”
“Yes,” Lord Ricborough replied, falling into step alongside her. “But I hope it will be marvellous too.” She stopped pacing, far too hot in her pelisse and cape despite the snow swirling all around her, and faced him again. “Have you spoken to my father?”
“Not yet, we wanted to ensure you were agreeable to the arrangement first.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m agreeable or not. It’s all…It’s rather overwhelming.”
Mr. Gilling came up behind her and considerately led her to a fallen tree trunk the villagers sometimes used as a seat. He stretched his overcoat out upon it so that she could sit. “What you’re asking is highly unusual,” she said to him.
“Unusual, but not I think incomprehensible or distasteful to you.”
“No,” she agreed. While her heart beat ridiculously fast, it was not due to that, but rather due to excitement and a touch of apprehension.
Lord Ricborough held her hand again, and ticked his index finger against the pulse point in her wrist. “Should I tell you how much it excites me to think of sharing you with Percy, of having you both lying naked beside me, of us all pleasuring one another?”
“Yes,” she mouthed, excited by the idea of those things too. “Tell me.”
“Better would be if we were to show you,” Mr. Gilling remarked.
“It’s a little cold out here for that, Pers.”
She wasn’t cold at all.
“Maybe for the moment, we ought to content ourselves with the kisses we sought.”
“Yes,” she murmured again, tilting her head toward him eager for that, whilst praying he wouldn’t notice that she’d never previously been kissed.
His warm breath heated her skin as he moved close. The touch of his lips muffled her cry of pleasure as he drew her into his embrace. He tasted of ale and spices and everything forbidden. When he slipped his tongue between her lips, arousal made her limbs feel weak. It didn’t matter, he held her steady, and so too did Mr. Gilling, who cuddled up to her behind and pressed his lips to what was evidently a rather sensitive spot on the side of her neck.
Heavens, if this had been what had actually happened in that cupboard four years ago, it would have been worth all the heartbreak that followed. Yet, the recollection of those times instantly sobered her. The fright, the tears, the freedom and friendships she’d lost and all because what…because—she realised looking at Lord Ricborough and Mr. Gilling—two men had loved one another and hadn’t wanted the world to know about it.
“Who would know about this arrangement?” she asked.
“Only us.” Mr. Gilling insisted.
Lord Ricborough closed his eyes and sighed. “That’s not true, Percy. Let’s at least be honest. Even the most loyal servants talk, and gossip about us and our ways has already passed through numerous drawing rooms.”
“So everyone would know. I’d forever be whispered about. I’m already reviled for what I did, and this would just prove to them that I’m the harlot they all branded me.”
“You’ll be my wife, and no one will dare criticise you.”
She believed he would try to protect her in any way he could, but on balance was that enough? Marrying Lord Ricborough, and accepting this strange three way relationship might grant her freedom from the austere, suffocating prison that was the old nursery, but at what cost? Would she ever be able to hold her head up in public? Not that she could now. Did that even matter if what they had in private lived up to the promise implicit in their kisses?
“I see you need time to think about this.”
Mr. Gilling covered his face with his hands as if he couldn’t bear not to resolve this now.
“We understand that. Take your time and we’ll speak again later. In the meantime, perhaps we could escort you home before the snow becomes so deep we’ll have to wade.”
Chapter Four
“Will she accept?” Percy asked for about the twenty-fourth time since they’d left Viola’s side. They’d hung back once they were in sight of Knasebrook Hall and let her return ahead of them, so as not to rouse suspicions or give anyone an excuse to berate her more than was already likely given she’d arrived home without her brother. Mostly though, Will didn’t want her to be forced into accepting his offer just to avoid the whiff of another scandal. It was important to him that she came willingly and of her own accord.
Now thawed out after their tramp through the snow, he and Percy were dressing for the ball. The hall was already full of guests, many of whom required accommodation for the night due to the snow that was still falling, hence he and Percy had been asked to double up. Neither of them considered the notion a hardship, though their host had been particularly apologetic.
What Will was missing at present was his valet, whom he’d be obliged to give compassionate leave to, owing to the looming death of his father. Bringing along anyone else simply raised too many questions, and opened his preferences to downstairs gossip.
Percy made for an inadequate stand in. He hadn’t a clue about clothes and could hardly tie the simplest knot, let alone be expected to replicate the exquisite folds in Will’s cravat that his man normally fashioned.
“Will she?” Percy asked again, as Will tossed another discarded leng
th of linen, and reached for another. He stood before the mirror and endeavoured to knot this one himself.
The simple truth was that he didn’t know. It was plain as day that Viola desired her freedom, and he’d felt the desire in her kiss, but neither of those things guaranteed that she’d throw in her lot with them. He couldn’t blame her for her doubts. They’d be criticised, and her reputation was already a tattered ruin. He might suggest she hold her head up high and embrace the notoriety, but things were much easier said than done. Also, if he were honest, he would rather they lived quietly and kept their private matters to themselves. Whatever arrangement took place within their home was of no concern to anyone else. And in any case, most of the rumourmongers only did so in order to deflect attention from their own rotten relationships.
“We just have to believe in her, Percy.” And see if they couldn’t enchant her a little this evening, perhaps give her another taste of what might come.
“And if she says no?”
Will abandoned his pursuit of the perfect knot and tugged Percy to him by his coat tails instead. His friend fell into his arms, whereupon Will silenced him before he could ask any more questions by kissing him roughly. When their mouths were locked, and tongues entwined, worries faded into insignificance. When they were entwined within one another’s arms the world was very, very simple.
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