My Three Lords Read online

  I didn’t understand his talk of butterflies and wings. I had begun our conversation quite angry with him, but once again he was confounding me with honeyed words. I didn’t want to hear any more.

  I turned from him and paced to the edge of the sparkling lake. In times of trouble, I often used to sit by the stream at Silverwood Manor. The flowing of the water helped to order my thoughts. Perhaps that would be the case here as well. Was it improper to do such a thing in the Marquis’ presence? The worry seemed absurd after our previous intimacies.

  At the water’s edge, I removed my slippers and stockings, held up my gown and waded into the chilly water. As a girl, I had on occasion stripped down to my chemise in order to swim in our stream. My brothers had made sure I was a strong swimmer and had no fear of the water. Crisp and cool, it lapped against my feet. The soft mud wormed between my toes. The midday sun cast its rays down on me in a shower of gold. The day was alight with joy. I stepped deeper into the water.

  And then came a loud shouting from the lawn. I saw, to my amazement, the Marquis hurrying after me.

  “Have you lost your wits, child? You wear no proper bathing costume. The water will soak your skirts and bring you down to the lake bottom.”

  Although I spluttered in protest, kicking at the water, he lifted me in his arms and hauled me out of the lake.

  “Have I upset you so greatly, that you must make an attempt on your own life?”

  “I was only up to my ankles!” Water dripped onto his breeches. I was no doubt ruining an extremely expensive garment. His tailor would be quite infuriated with me.

  He dumped me onto the picnic blanket as if I were a sack of grain. “What am I to do with you now?” He scowled at me. The fright of my venture into the water seemed to have made him come alive. He no longer looked troubled. In fact, he looked quite vigorous.

  I became aware of a tingling in my loins. The fire lit by my husband had never entirely disappeared. My watery adventure had not doused it, in fact, quite the opposite. My entire body felt alive and eager. I leaned back on my elbows and shook my hair back.

  The Marquis’ eyes narrowed to black slits. “Are you attempting to seduce me?”

  “Why should I have to?” I answered, tilting my head to the side. “You went to such great effort to secure my presence at your estate. And to what purpose, I ask? So that you might lecture me about an innocent, harmless little dip in the lake?” I drew one leg up so my chemise was revealed.

  “You minx.” He dropped to his knees next to me on the cloth. “You are trying to seduce me. And why should I be surprised? I expect no less from my daring, curious girl. But still, I cannot have you dashing off willy-nilly. I’m afraid you’ve earned yourself a lashing. Now turn over.”

  A lashing! Girls did not receive lashings. Those were reserved for wayward schoolboys. I’d seen my brothers receive the lash on occasion, and indeed they squealed like piglets, albeit briefly. Out of panic, I resisted, but the strength of his slender frame was surprising.

  “If you fight me, your lashing will be far worse,” he warned.

  I trembled as I turned over, urged by his forceful hands.

  Facedown on the blanket, I closed my eyes and braced myself for the sting of a lash. Instead, a silky touch wandered up my leg. I squirmed as my undergarments were pushed up over my buttocks. What was that mysterious object with which he stroked me? A feather, perhaps, or a brush? I gave up trying to guess and simply enjoyed the way it swirled across my skin. The backs of my thighs were the object of much of his attention. I was astonished at what chills and shivers were brought to life in such an innocent area.

  My eyes closed halfway, until the grass and wildflowers of the meadow blurred into a pleasant backdrop. The hum of bees echoed the hum of pleasure in my throat. Slowly, the soft stroking spiraled toward the center of my desire. Firm hands spread my legs apart. The brush, or so I had decided it must be, painted a lovely trail down the cleft of my buttocks. Excitement filled me. I pushed my groin against the cloth, but when that didn’t satisfy my need, I arched my back instead and thrust my buttocks into the air.

  “Shhh,” whispered the Marquis. “Gentle, gentle. All in good time. Do you like my lashings?”

  “Yes.” I sighed restlessly. “But you don’t understand,” I told him. “The Earl left me—”

  “I can well imagine. Don’t think about Dorch. Think about the feel of my instrument against your skin, against your tight little hole.”

  He drew the brush across my bottom hole and I felt my flesh tighten. “You don’t mean to…what do you intend—”

  “Shhh. I intend nothing but what will bring you pleasure. This area is the seat of much pleasure, but only if used properly. This is simply an introduction. So many enjoyments to introduce to you. Do you find this pleasant?” The brush swirled against the hair covering my mound. It teased, it tantalized.

  “No, I do not,” I told him frankly. “That is, I find it enjoyable but I fear that you will give me no relief.”

  He laughed softly. “That is not my way. But you should know how to relieve yourself should that prove necessary.”

  “Relieve myself?”

  “Have you not done so, in the secrecy of your own bedchamber?”

  Fortunately he could not see my face, which I crushed against the lacy picnic cloth. The green of the grass and the white of the fabric blurred together. “I’ve…played with myself,” I admitted.

  “Show me.”

  “No!”

  “Show me, or I will leave you high and dry.” To emphasize his point, he dabbed the brush back and forth across my clitoris with quick motions that brought me to a near-frenzy.

  “Stop, please, I beg you.”

  “Then show me how you pleasure yourself. Put your hand against your mound.”

  I did so, and the heat of my own flesh astonished me.

  “What would you do next?”

  “I…I do not know.”

  “Don’t act like a little miss who doesn’t know her own mind. Show me.”

  Stung, I rubbed my hand against my own sex. A stab of lightning shuddered through me.

  “That’s it,” said the Marquis. I felt his hand push down on my buttocks, adding more pressure to my own efforts. And then, shockingly, he spanked his hand across my flesh. Another deep sensation shook me to the core. My hand faltered in its motion.

  “Don’t you dare stop,” said the Marquis, with another quick spank. “Do you know why I’m spanking you? Don’t stop. Keep caressing yourself. Why am I spanking you?”

  “I…I don’t know,” I whimpered as I rubbed my hand against my cunt. But when his strokes came, my arousal soared. When they stopped, it flagged. Gratefully, I felt his hand descend again. My skin was aflame, a heat that matched the conflagration within.

  “You dare to question my wisdom in arranging this marriage for you.” Spank. “You dare to scamper away from me and give me a fright by wading into the water.” Spank. “You dare to wonder whether or not my presence in your life is beneficial.”

  “No,” I cried. “That is not so.”

  “You want me then?” Spank.

  “Yes!” My limbs trembled with my need.

  “How do you want me?” Spank.

  “I want you…” Desperately, urgently, I wanted him. “Inside. If you please.”

  “Ah, my dear.” He lifted my buttocks higher into the air so he could replace my fumbling hand with his own firm grip. He inserted one thumb into me, not enough to satisfy my craving. But I forgot that emptiness when his other fingers clamped around my clitoris. Speared thus on his hand, I was like a child’s doll in his grip. And still the other hand continued its spanking. Each stroke of his hand was accompanied by the most delicious fondling of my mound. His thumb probed deep into me, wresting a cry from my lips. I panted and writhed like a mad thing in his grasp.

  “Oh, please, I beg of you…” I whimpered.

  “What do you beg?” Another spank sent tremors through my being.

/>   “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I beg you, don’t stop…” I chanted the words as if they were a magic spell. The Marquis did not stop. He shook my cunt in his fist as though I were a mouse caught in a lion’s paw. He spanked and shook and rubbed and probed until the bright light broke over my vision and I broke free of my earthly bounds.

  I let out a shriek of ecstasy that must have frightened away the birds. But it made no matter to me. The outside world ceased to exist during those few blissful moments. I soared above, just as before, in that promised land on high. A fleeting glimpse of green eyes greeted me once again, then just as quickly disappeared. Clouds flitted by, lit by a setting sun. Singing angels seemed to accompany me in my journey.

  And they held me in a bed of feathers as I drifted back to earth.

  I opened my eyes to the sight of an ant crawling up a blade of grass, seemingly undisturbed by my commotion. Beyond it, blue sky peeked from between horse chestnuts. The world re-formed itself. The Marquis gently lowered my trembling body into a reclining position, far more discreet than my previous display.

  “You are truly a treasure, my dear,” he said, stroking my posterior. He drew my petticoat down to cover me.

  I rolled over onto my side and gazed up at him with heavy eyes. My body felt delightfully languorous. Sleep beckoned to me, but first, I had a question for the lord who had so pleasured me. Admittedly, it had best been asked earlier.

  “Did my husband give his permission?”

  “Your husband and I have arranged everything. You have no need to worry.”

  I sighed, and nestled my head against his leg. “Lovely.” I felt filled with affection for the Marquis. “Do you not desire satisfaction?”

  “You have given me great satisfaction,” he answered.

  “But not…” I gestured to his breeches, where I detected no sign of a lump.

  “I made a promise. I always honor my promises.”

  A promise. It must have been a promise to the Earl, and I could well imagine what it was. Dorchester would want to be sure our offspring were, in point of fact, his.

  “I see. But surely, there is another way?” I remembered how I had taken my husband’s member into my mouth. “Perhaps with my lips and tongue?”

  The Marquis laughed and stroked my hair. “Always forthright, are you not? I thank you for your kind offer, but I must decline.”

  “Why?” I sat up in surprise, all thought of sleep banished. Perhaps he wouldn’t enjoy it? This seemed astonishing. For a traitorous moment I thought longingly of my husband’s thick, bullish manhood. If the Earl were here, he would have no qualms about bringing out his shaft. My belly quivered at the memory. But perhaps the Earl would not like my mouth to be on another man’s member? My current situation was so confounding as not to bear close questioning. The Marquis interrupted these thoughts. “My sad case of unrequited love has left me with some quirks.”

  I gaped at him in fascination. “What sort of quirks?”

  “The only way I can achieve the ultimate satisfaction is through an entirely different entrance.” He broke off.

  “Different entrance? Why, whatever do you mean?” My curiosity, as always my fatal flaw, burned.

  “I cannot show you as yet. All in good time, I promise you.”

  I knew a very good method for extracting information from stubborn males. I pounced on top of the Marquis. “You must show me, or I shall tickle you until you lose your breath.” I found a particularly sensitive spot under his armpit. Despite all his efforts to maintain his dignity, laughter bubbled from his lips. “You yourself said I was insatiably curious and that it was an admirable quality.”

  “A foolish statement indeed.” He grabbed at my hands, but I was an expert at tickling men who were bigger than me, having done so countless times as a child. Before long he was lost in helpless spasms of laughter, as if he were a boy again. It had probably been many a year since anyone had tickled him.

  “Show me, show me, show me,” I chanted, showing no mercy.

  “Show him what?” An irritated voice interrupted our play. “My dear Beaumont, I humbly suggest you tell this hoyden what it is she wants to know, else I toss you both in the lake.”

  In that moment, before looking to see who spoke, I became aware of two things. First, the stranger’s resonant voice struck a chord within my mind. Second, the Marquis, at the sound of it, developed the lump in his breeches that had eluded him earlier.

  “Upon closer examination, I see the wench has already been into the lake,” the man continued. The distaste in his voice made me cringe. I withdrew myself from the Marquis’ grasp and sat up to face my accuser.

  A pair of green eyes gazed on me with scorn. I recognized him immediately. He was a tall man, tall and straight and strong and handsome, with hair the brown of roasted chestnuts, eyes the green of the meadow around me. Those very eyes had appeared to me during my moments of ecstasy. “You,” I said.

  But he did not appear to recognize me. The frown on his face deepened. It seemed the product not only of this present irritation, but of many preceding burdens. He had a commanding presence, even more so than the Marquis. The Marquis was like a snake that bore constant watching. This man was more like a king. And now this king was gazing at me from on high with deepest disapproval.

  I leapt to my feet. “How dare you intrude on our privacy without so much as a by your leave!”

  He looked taken aback, but only for a moment. “Who the devil are you? Beaumont, explain, if you please.”

  The Marquis rose lazily to his feet. I wondered if the lump was still visible, and made a mental note to pursue that interesting matter further. “My dear Warrington, I owe you no explanation. This is my home. You are welcome, of course, as you always are. But I need explain nothing.”

  Warrington? This was the famous Duke of Warrington? Mortification overcame me. I swayed as dizziness took hold. Was this what an impending faint felt like? Faint I would not, no matter the circumstances. Not after I’d declared such a thing impossible to this very green-eyed man.

  The Duke seemed not to notice my struggle to retain my wits. He focused his disapproval on the Marquis. “I beg your pardon. I merely came to offer my best wishes to my friend, and to make sure that the bridal journey was proceeding smoothly, but I see that you sent the newlyweds on their way and stayed behind to…cavort.”

  “Not at all. This, my dear Warrington, is Lady Alicia Dorchester, a relative of mine and our young Earl’s new Countess. My dear, this is the Duke of Warrington. He too is a cousin of some kind.”

  Head high, I performed the most perfect curtsey I could manage given that I stood barefoot on a cloth and the hem of my gown was wet.

  The Duke inclined his head into an equally proper bow, but not before I witnessed a strange expression cross his face. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say a rapid series of expressions appeared and disappeared too quickly to be deciphered. “My lady. I offer you my best wishes for your future happiness.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  By the time he straightened up, his handsome features held no expression other than weariness. “Where is the bridegroom in question?”

  “He took Galahad for a gallop,” answered the Marquis. “He requested that I entertain his bride.”

  “I see.”

  Those two simple words produced in me a sudden desire to plunge into the lake, or perhaps into a hole in the ground that would magically appear for my convenience.

  “The Marquis de Beaumont, an old friend of my family, was counseling me on the demands of the married state.” That didn’t sound like an improvement. “That is, he was advising me on how best to conduct myself now that I am a Countess—” I snapped shut my mouth, realizing there was nothing I could say that would ameliorate the situation. I scrambled for a way to explain my wet gown. “I must tend to my appearance after that unfortunate slip on the lakeshore.”

  “A slip, eh?” The Duke now looked more amused than affronted. “I’m relieved to hear i
t was nothing more. I feared perhaps you fell into a faint.”

  A faint. My eyes flew to meet his, and I saw by their gold-glinting amusement that he had, at long last, recognized me. Or perhaps he’d recognized me from the start.

  The Marquis must have been astonished to see me tongue-tied, certainly not my usual state. “Perhaps, my dear, you should retire before the sun becomes too much for one of your delicate constitution.”

  I refused to respond to his teasing. The Marquis knew very well I was anything but delicate. “I believe I shall do so. I bid you both good day.” Executing a dignified bow, I directed my steps toward the house. All I desired was to reach my bedchamber and close the door behind me so no one, not the Earl, the Marquis, or even Annie, could disturb my thoughts.

  But the closed door did nothing to keep out the disturbance created by the Duke of Warrington. For the next few hours, my thoughts were composed of one thing only, the reliving of each moment of my encounters with the Duke in merciless detail.

  Chapter Six

  The Duke, mounted on a sleek bay gelding, and the Marquis, on a white mare whose color seemed meant as an ironic comment on the state of his soul, trotted into the woods in search of the Earl.

  “What news?” the Marquis asked in an uncharacteristically subdued voice.

  The Duke shook his head. “Not yet. I will not repeat myself.”

  They rode in silence through the dappled light cast by fluttering birches and mighty oaks.

  The Marquis adopted a lighter tone. “Is the new Countess not everything I suggested?”

  “You never mentioned that I’d find her in your lap, dripping with water.”

  “You must admit her tousled condition interfered in no way with her appeal. The way she stood her ground under your withering gaze was truly endearing.”

  The Duke shrugged. “If you must know, I found her overly wanton and lacking in proper comportment.”

  “Don’t be such a prig.”