Three Lovers For Lucy

by S. K. Yule

  “Why not marry one of them?”

  “If I’m faithful to only one of them, it’ll destroy a lifelong friendship. The two I didn’t choose would resent that fact. At the end, the one I did choose would regret it as well. Whether I was faithful to him or unfaithful, things would never be the same.”

  “Could you be unfaithful to someone else? Say, a man you were not in love with, if he gave you permission to be with your three lords with discretion?”

  “I don’t think such a man exists.”

  “Yes, he does exist. No, hear me out.” Hayward put a hand on the head of his cane. Absently, he turned it. “You may be aware I have a reputation as a, well, a loner, let us say. I dislike drawing attention to myself for a reason. You see, I prefer the company of men.”

  “You’re a loner because you like company?” Lucy asked, puzzled.

  “Let me rephrase that. I am attracted to men, not women.”

  “Oh!” Once again, she wondered how she could have been so blind. From the beginning he had offered her no gallantry, none of the pressures of courtship, only simple friendship from one human being to another.

  “I think you’re aware of what English law decrees for men like me. My title would not save me from prison. The young are reckless, but as I grow better sense, the fear of discovery begins to haunt me. So, a solution to both of our problems occurs to me. If we marry, we can protect one another’s reputations. You will have my permission to see your lords, or anyone else you choose, so long as you use discretion. I will have yours to do the same. People usually accept what they think they see. Few question beyond the surfaces.”

  Lucy frowned. Was all the world a sham, then?

  “Needless to say, I will not interfere in any way with Levegne Manor or any other property belonging to you.”

  But could she think the world harsh, when she had found such genuine kindness? And from her Trio, not only passion, but real caring?

  She stood and went to him. Late afternoon sun broke through the clouds outside, tinting the familiar room with patches of soft gold and scarlet. “If we did marry, I hope you wouldn’t mind if I came to love you like a brother.”

  Leaning a little on his cane, he rose. “I’d look forward to that with hope, Lucy. So, you agree?”

  “May I have a little time to think it over, Edwin? I don’t want to make a rash decision.”

  “Take all the time you need.” He kissed her on the cheek. “When you decide, send me word. One way or the other, I hope we remain friends.”

  “Yes. I’d like that. Thank you for your kindness.”

  “And yours,” he answered, his green eyes twinkling. His smile disappeared and sincerity crept into his features. “Thank you for not judging me. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to find someone I felt from the beginning I can trust.”

  “Whatever happens, I won’t betray your confidence in me,” she promised.

  “I know.” He limped to the parlor door and disappeared.

  Lucy crossed to the window again, but this time, as she looked out over the green lawn and trees with their autumn foliage, she felt alive again. Edwin’s proposal would solve her problems, and his as well. But would The Trio accept her being married to someone else?

  Chapter Twelve

  The next week dragged by at a snail’s pace. Lucy immersed herself in her charity work by day, but each night she wrestled with her inner turmoil. If she married Edwin, Levegne Manor would be saved and Cousin Bernard kept at bay. But would that mean losing the men she loved? Yet, could she live with herself if she threw away her home for the sake of a love so unconventional and uncharted that no one could tell what would become of it?

  Even if she managed to marry Lord Hayward without losing her Trio, the dangers gave her pause. If not handled with the utmost, unfailing care, the existence she contemplated had the potential of ruining her reputation and possibly Edwin Hayward’s life. Everyone needed to understand the risks, and without a shadow of a doubt all of them must ceaselessly guard one another’s backs.

  Beyond that, Edwin had to agree to let The Trio know his true reason for marrying her. He would be taking the biggest leap of faith of all by entrusting them with his secret.

  The one bright spot in her dark nightly wrestlings with her problems was Bernard’s absence from her days. She’d heard not one word from him since Courtenay ran him off. Welcome as that was, she knew the reprieve was only temporary. As her birthday approached, Bernard would crawl out from under whatever rock Courtenay had sent him scurrying under. If Bernard thought she was about to marry Courtenay, or anyone else, she feared he’d try some last, desperate move to prevent it.

  By day, Lucy tried to find happiness in her work on behalf of others. Better conditions for women who must work in the factories of Birmingham and the north had always concerned her, as well as the health of the poor among her own tenants and in the nearby village. If marrying to keep her home meant losing her lovers, the satisfaction of helping others might have to make up for much loss.

  She did find genuine pleasure in one direction. While she could not confide fully in Roberta, having no right to divulge Edwin’s secret, her sympathy for his fears opened her eyes to the anxieties that must have led Roberta to hide her affair with Beatrice. While women were not imprisoned for loving women, society regarded any irregular sexual behavior as depravity. Roberta had no fortune of her own, and the very roof over her head depended on Lucy’s good will.

  No wonder she hadn’t confided in her, Lucy realized, and with that realization, the sense of betrayal she’d felt vanished. She sat Roberta down, told her what she knew, and encouraged her to follow her heart, though with a little more caution to preserve her reputation and dignity.

  After her initial embarrassment at what Lucy had witnessed, Roberta began to blossom. She carried herself upright and spoke with more confidence. How many crimes did society commit, Lucy wondered, and in how many ways, in the name of morality? Within days, Roberta had asked if Lucy could spare her to go on an outing with Beatrice.

  Lucy was happy for Roberta, and even for Beatrice, whom she now felt she understood. They seemed very much in love. Lucy hoped such outings would continue for a long time to come—unless Roberta decided to give up her position as Lucy’s companion to become Beatrice’s. Lucy supposed that might depend on Viscount Carrington. She hoped he was as blind as Beatrice seemed to think.

  But if Lucy had imagined a week away from The Trio might dull the pain of separation from them, she was wrong. A corner of her mind had hoped she wasn’t really in love, that all she really felt was the excitement of adventure. If so, she’d be free to marry Lord Hayward without fear of hurting The Trio and without risk of exposing his secret to anyone else. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so. Each day she felt a void in her chest that she knew would never mend.

  And by night, The Trio’s blue, brown and green eyes haunted her dreams. She burned for them. She ached for their caresses and their lips and hands on her skin. She yearned to run her fingers over their glorious bodies. She longed for their possession and for their strong arms around her. She cried herself to sleep, wondering if the pain would ever lessen.

  At the end of the week, she knew there was only one possible decision. The responsibility for Levegne Manor was in her hands, and no one else’s. She would marry Lord Hayward. But her own happiness depended on no one person alone. It could only be if all the men she cared for worked together. Without Edwin’s consent, she could never tell The Trio why her marriage need not stand in their way. Without their willingness to help protect Edwin’s reputation as well as hers, she could not go on with them.

  Lucy wrote a letter to Lord Hayward, asking him to visit.

  ****

  She spent the next morning anxiously awaiting the Earl’s arrival. He had sent by return post to expect him in the early afternoon. It seemed years before she saw him drive up in a one-horse chaise, and hours more until the maid showed him to the parlor.

  She jumped u
p. “Would you care for some tea?”

  “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  He seemed as nervous as she was. Lucy felt suddenly afraid that he might have regretted his proposal. Maybe he was about to tell her he’d changed his mind. She managed to keep her hand steady as she poured them each a cup, and to hand him his without rattling it on the saucer. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Neither, thanks.” He sipped his tea.

  She sipped hers.

  As the seconds passed in silence, her tension became unbearable.

  “Lady Lucy,” he said with a formality that plunged her into outright fear, “I know you must have requested my presence because you have made a decision about my proposal.” Then, like a mischievous child tired of playing the stuffy adult, he smiled. “Go ahead, Lucy. Whatever it is, I promise not to throw a fit.”

  Her worst fears left her. She smiled at him. Edwin was a gentle, kind man, and now her only worry was that she would be asking too much of him.

  She sat her cup and saucer on the side table. “I accept your proposal.”

  “But?”

  As always, he’d seen past the surface.

  “I cannot imagine any of this working,” she said, “unless there is complete honesty all the way around. If I’m to continue with the lords Weston, Talbot and Courtenay, they must understand the nature of this marriage. That if I grow to love you, it will be like the brother I never had. And that if they love me, they must never feel any jealousy, or any threat, because of you.”

  “I see.” Frowning, he set his cup on the slim arm of the settee. “I came to much the same conclusion, understanding that you will not agree to deceive your lovers. But I must admit I have my reservations. I do not know Weston, Courtenay or Talbot well, but you cannot deny they have shown little discretion in their own lives.”

  “Yes, I know, and I understand how much I’m asking. They’ve protected my reputation with every care. I trust these men, not only because I’m in love with them, but because of what I see in each of them.” Besides, though she didn’t say so to him, if any one of them hurt him in any way, she’d personally wring the traitor’s neck.

  “In the week I’ve been thinking it over,” he said, “one conclusion is inescapable any way I look at it. If I’m to trust you, I must trust you. Use your best judgment.”

  “You honor me.” Lucy felt humbled. In her heart she vowed she would always protect his right to love whomever he loved, as he was doing for her. Hesitantly she added, “There is one final question to be settled.”

  “Yes?”

  “I confess I’ve never wanted children. I assume you will not expect an heir from me?”

  He leaned to her, taking her hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way. You are a beautiful woman, but you know my preferences. As for an heir, I already have one. Like you, I have a cousin, though mine is more pleasant than Bernard. He will eventually inherit my title, and my will leaves him most of my property as well. Because you have property and an income of your own, I have no plans to alter that unless some unforeseen disaster befalls your circumstances.”

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “But be assured, should your precautions fail—I understand great strides are being made in contraception methods, but if they should fail—I want you to know that the child will be cared for as if he or she were mine. The legal details can be worked out if the occasion arises, but I like children and would never let a son or daughter of yours feel anything other than cherished.”

  Tears came to Lucy’s eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “Only that I think I am the most fortunate woman in England.”

  “That remains to be seen, once you’ve spoken with your lovers. I very much hope they prove worthy of you.”

  “Either way, I’d like a small, private wedding, but a grand after-wedding party so that every wagging tongue from here to London has the most vivid of impressions that we are married.”

  He smiled. “My thoughts exactly. And soon. Your birthday will be here before you know it.” He rose and kissed her on the cheek. “When you’ve spoken with them, let me know their responses.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, it was Beatrice who sat on the golden settee while Roberta hugged Lucy. Tears formed behind her eyes, but Lucy fought them back. She refused to make Roberta feel guilty about leaving.

  “It’s not as if you will be living a hundred miles away. You’ll be less than five miles away. We’ll see each other often.” She patted Roberta on the back. Oddly, she reflected, she meant it. Since she came to understand Beatrice, she’d lost the old urge to scratch and claw. And because she’d behaved more kindly, Beatrice’s behavior had undergone an unexpected change. Or maybe the change occurred because Roberta told her about Lucy’s acceptance of their relationship. Whatever the cause, it almost seemed that Lucy and Beatrice had become friends.

  “I know, but I’m still going to miss you.” Roberta sniffed as she sat on the settee beside Beatrice, who stroked her back gently.

  “Thank you, Lucy. I wasn’t sure you’d be so generous about giving up your companion.”

  “Why? Because you and I have been competitors for so long?” Lucy smiled at them both. “Consider Roberta my peace offering.”

  “I only wish we’d told you sooner.” Beatrice possessively pushed stray tendrils of hair from Roberta’s forehead and smiled at Lucy. “No more war.”

  “By the way, do you mind if I ask how much Carrington knows? I hope the two of you won’t have to sneak around him.”

  “Oh, Carrington.” Beatrice gave an elegant shrug. “I called off the engagement. He was nice enough, but I never felt he was quite genuine with me.”

  As you were with him? Lucy thought with a smile, but kept the observation to herself.

  When it was time for them to go, Lucy saw them to the door. Beatrice squeezed her hand. “Don’t let our hypocritical society keep you from love, Lucy.”

  “I’ll try not to.”

  “Well.” Beatrice eyed her doubtfully. “Something’s been preying on you. You’re as pale as if you’d seen the devil himself, and the twinkle in your eyes has gone out.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Beatrice, Roberta, take care of each other.” She kissed each on the cheek.

  ****

  By late that evening, Lucy sat on the edge of her bed, already missing Roberta’s company. She’d tried reading and playing solitaire, but nothing distracted her from a fact as daunting as the devil Beatrice had so aptly mentioned. The Trio must have gotten her letter days ago. She had written out three copies, and directed one to each of their addresses. One, at the least, should have responded by now. Unless they no longer wanted her.

  Maybe she’d taken too long to decide. She still trusted her instinct that they hadn’t despised her. In none of their eyes had she appeared a fool or prostitute. She’d swear to it. Rare as it was, all three of these men had accepted that a woman could desire as naturally as a man could. But had she overestimated the depth of their feelings for her? She had sent them packing, so had they accepted that, too, and moved on?

  Well. If they had, she had no one to blame but herself. It was ridiculous to fret over something over which she had no control. She would pay attention to Beatrice’s warning. Time to stop being a wilting flower in a drought. Starting tomorrow, she would dip her toes back into the river of life. After all, she had a wedding party to plan.

  A rustle in the hallway startled her out of her dismal thoughts. “Mrs. Scott? Is that you?” she called.

  The door swung open and she gasped. “Courtenay! What are you doing here?”

  His smile quickly turned to a scowl. “You’re so pale and thin. Who’s been hurting you, Lucy?” He crossed the room to her and knelt by the bed. “Was it that rodent, Bernard? I’ll rip him apart.”

  “I hope not. If you want to know who’s been hurting me, it’s me.” Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her tears from spilling over.

  H
e snatched her from the bed and rose, squeezing her tightly to him. Her toes dangled off the floor.

  “Where are Weston and Talbot?” Being wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his scent made her tense muscles go limp.

  “Seeing to business.”

  That was more important? Her heart sank? “Did they get my letter?”

  “We all did. I have a message for you, though with you in my arms, I’m damned if I can remember it.”

  She snuggled into him, and he buried his nose in her hair. She felt utter joy for the first time in weeks. “Tell me this message.”

  “First, we insist you marry one of us. I know things would change, but at least your cousin won’t get his hands on what belongs to you.” He kissed her on top of the head before letting her slide down his body to the floor, but kept her securely enfolded in his arms.

  “No. But I have another solu—.”

  “Shh. Don’t argue.” He placed a long finger against her lips. “Paul and Kendall said to tell you they love you and will say so in person as soon as they are able.”

  “They love me?” Her heart thudded so hard she thought it would burst from the joy pulsing through it.

  He nodded. “And so do I,” he whispered.

  “Oh.” Tears fell down her cheeks once again. “I love you, too—all of you. I missed you so much.” She squeezed him as tightly as she could.

  “I’m not good with tears, Lucy. You’d need Paul for that. You know I’m not good at comfort.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” She looked up into his green eyes. “You’re doing a good job of comforting me now.”

  “No, I’m not. You’re still crying. I know only one way, and that’ll comfort us both. It’s been too long since I was last inside you. I’ve ached for you, Lucy.”

  She stood on tiptoe and covered his mouth with her own. Relief and happiness swept through her at the touch of her lover’s lips. She still didn’t know whether they’d all be together again, but just now she didn’t care.