The Kissing Bough (3 page)

“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 length 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.

Percy groaned and pushed his hands into Will’s hair, kissing him back with enormous zeal. When they parted a few minutes later, they were both flushed and showing obvious signs of arousal.

“If she does, we’ll keep looking,” Will insisted. It was all they could do, since he refused to contemplate the alternative. At least, no matter what happened tonight in regard to Miss Marsh, they would still have one another.

Chapter Five

“Whatever is the matter with you, Viola?” Aunt Clara observed her with a frown that made the crow’s feet around her eyes collapse in on one another. “You’re as twitchy as if you were to be presented to the Queen. I can’t believe you’re this nervous over a ball.”

“I’m merely concerned that people will stare,” she replied, not wanting to admit the real reason for her agitation. She’d been unable to get Mr. Gilling and Lord Ricborough, or William and Percy as she’d begun to think of them, out of her head since she’d arrived home. The taste of William’s lips, the heat of their bodies pressed so close to hers and the sheer exuberance of their smiles when they looked at her completely dominated her thoughts, and tempted her. Yes, tempted her to say “yes” to whatever they wanted.

“People’s opinions have never bothered you overly much before. The past three years you’ve been giddy with excitement over being allowed to mix. Why should you be so nervous on this occasion? Did something occur while you were out with Thomas? Did somebody say or do something?”

“No, of course not.” she said dismissing the notion with a little
hah!
of laughter. As if anyone ever spoke to her.

Aunt Clara wrenched the lacing of her stays tighter, causing Viola to forcefully exhale. “Don’t lie to me, child. I’ve known you since you were a wailing babe, and I know you think I’m an addle-brained crone, but I’ve still wits enough to see through you. I might add that I’m the only one willing to entertain the notion that you didn’t step into that cupboard willingly, so show some respect.” She proceeded to tug Viola’s dress over her head, and then to pin the front into place.

“I did enter it willingly,” Viola said, repositioning each pin her aunt jabbed into place. “I just wasn’t expecting to find two men inside, or for them to cosy up to me.” Having two men so close had been surprising on that occasion. It might even have been scary, if she’d had time to think about it, but the experience beneath the kissing bough had been quite, quite different. Exhilarating and…not delightful, that was too mundane and didn’t adequately describe the way it had made her feel inside. Oh, if there were words for it, she didn’t know them.

Meanwhile, her aunt sighed and shook her head. “Did some fool try to kiss you beneath the mistletoe?”

Viola fought to mask her surprise. How could she possibly know that? Had someone seen her and passed on word of her salaciousness already?

Aunt Clara tottered over to the chair by the fireside. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. Do you think I don’t know what you do while you’re supposed to be spreading Christmas cheer? I know everything you do, girl. And let me tell you, I’ve been on this Earth long enough to know that when a woman gets doe-eyed it’s generally due to a man. So you had better spit it out and tell me who it was. Sit,” she ordered Viola, then picked up her knitting and began to cast the woollen loops from one needle to the other.

Viola sat as instructed, perching on the very front of the rocking chair to prevent its motion. How much ought she to tell?

“There was a man,” she tentatively confessed.

“Aye, but did you grant his request. No, don’t answer. I know from your expression that you did. I think you had better tell me who it was, and what sort of promise you had from him.”

Viola slowly wetted her lips. She didn’t really want to admit any of it, but she knew her aunt well enough to realise she wasn’t going anywhere until she at least produced a name. “Lord Ricborough.” Even now, after battling her way home through the snow, and then a full hour of being powdered and laced, she could still feel the sensation of his kiss and the thrill that had shot through her body at his touch. “I told him I would consider what he asked.”

She kept her gaze firmly focussed upon the blaze in the hearth to avoid the penetrating stare levelled in her direction.

“Someone actually offered for you and you told him to wait on your answer. Aah, Viola, I’d laugh at the sheer absurdity of your actions if I wasn’t so concerned for your mental capacity. What in heaven’s name is there to consider? Accept him. Marry him. Go out and live your life.”

Her aunt shook her head. “Ricborough is from and old, old family. If ever a second chance was offered to somebody then here it is. He’ll inherit an earldom when his father passes on—interesting man, I knew him in my youth—all the tattle-tales that have spun tales about you these past years would be desperate to be your bosom friends again.”

“I know,” she said. She understood that, or at least that would be how things were if he had offered her an ordinary sort of marriage, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d said right to her face that he loved someone else, and that he expected her to love his lover too.

However could that work?

Oh, she appreciated that Percy Gilling was smart and handsome, with his wild curls and beatific smile, and she was excited by his presence, but how could three people possibly live harmoniously? From all she’d heard and observed, it was difficult enough with two.