Run, run, run…
A lord… I’d just attacked alord.I would hang for sure if they caught me—if he didn’t get to me first.
Run, run, run, run, Sassy, run, and never look back.
I scrambled to my feet, leaving the poker beside him.He was lying on his back, moaning faintly.I could see the blistered skin of his face between his fingers.Gulping, I forced myself to look away.
I had to run.But where?Anywhere I went, I would need money…
His purse.
It was by the bed, along with his coat, which he’d taken off when he first came into the room.Rushing over, I picked it up.A sick feeling roiled in my stomach.Assaulting a lord, stealing from him… I had no choice, but if I was caught…
I could not think about it.
I stuffed his purse down the front of my low-cut dress and ran to the door, hurriedly unlocking it as Lord Carmichael’s groans began to grow louder.Dashing into the hall, it was blessedly empty, so I ran.
I ran down the stairs, past the startled expressions of my fellow whores and the men they were entertaining in the common room, and out the front door into the night.The shouts that followed me spurred me to run faster, and for some reason, I began to laugh, the sound slightly hysterical.
I was free.
1
William
“I can’t believe someone answered the ad,” Clive muttered under his breath as he climbed onto the bench of their wagon and picked up the reins.I was already waiting, a small bouquet of wildflowers for our new wife on my lap.I bit my tongue against snapping back at him because I knew he didn’t mean it personally.He wasn’t insulting me, even though it felt that way.
I was the one who had written the ad.
I was the one who had told him someone would answer.
I was right.
Clive didn’t like it when things didn’t go his way.It wasn’t that he didn’t want a wife, we both wanted a woman in our lives, but he didn’t like that my way had worked when he’d told me it wouldn’t.
As much as my fingers itched to be the one driving, for once, I didn’t fight him on it.He was already on edge over the woman arriving today.He couldn’t control who she was, what she looked like, or what kind of wife she’d be, but he could control the horses.Over the years, I’d learned to pick my battles.Sometimes, I thought he still saw me as the scrawny teenager I’d been when he’d rescued me from the gang of men intent on stealing my week’s pay.
Back then, he’d been twenty-two, four years older than me, bigger and stronger than most young men his age.With regular meals and working the ranch we shared, I’d caught up to him in weight and muscle, but he didn’t seem to notice, and to be truthful, I had trouble pushing him on it.Since I owed him my life, was it really too much to let him take the lead when it was something that didn’t matter much?
He was more than my partner—he was the brother I’d never had and the man I was going to share my wife with, in the Creekland manner.When we’d heard about Creekland and the way they married, two men to one woman, we’d known it was the place for us.We shared everything else, so it just made sense.
Today, I was getting my way, and our new wife was arriving.My dick was already hardening in anticipation.It had been far too long since we’d had a woman between us.I doubted any woman would be ready to jump in the middle of us immediately, but we would enjoy working her up to it and drowning her with pleasure in the meantime.When I answered him, there was no bite to my tone because I’d already won.
“There was nothing wrong with the ad.”
Clive sent me a mulish look, his dark eyes full of skepticism before he flicked the reins, getting the horses started down the lane.It felt odd to be on the wagon rather than horseback, but it made the most sense.We had no way of knowing whether or not our bride could ride, and she’d likely be arriving with luggage.It would also be easier to talk to her and get to know her a bit better if she was seated between us for the ride home.
I knew part of Clive’s worry came from the unknown.Literally, everything about Miss Sassy McCloud was unknown to us except her name.I found it exciting—Clive didn’t.
If she met the requirements of the ad, we’d both be happy.
Owners of the NorthWest Ranch in Creekland, Minnesota Territory, desire a wife, age eighteen to twenty-five, pretty, healthy, and able to work hard.In return, wife will be cherished and protected.No portrait necessary.
Neither of us had a preference for weight, height, hair color, eye color… we liked women.Period.Even though Clive could never be described as easygoing, I figured we could make it work with any woman sent our way if she was of the right age and constitution.
Clive
William was getting that dreamy-eyed look on his face again, and I didn’t know whether to sigh or smack him on the back of his fool head to knock some sense into him.The boy was a romantic and an optimist, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing but could grate on me when he ignored the realities of a situation.
