Tears stung her eyes at their passionate defenses of her, even against her own self-loathing. “It’s been so long since I had kindness, I almost forgot what it was like. Kindness and desire and pleasure and…and love.” She looked to Wren and then Aiden. “You know I never stopped loving either of you.”
Wren smiled a little, his normally serious expression brightening significantly. “I have ached to hear those words for years.”
Aiden nodded. “We were too strongly bonded to stop the love between us. I always knew time and distance wouldn’t be enough. And it hasn’t been. I love you both as much as did all those years ago. Perhaps more, because I know what it’s like to lose you.”
“And I fear we’ll all know it again, before this is over,” Emilia said. She detangled herself from the two men and went down from the bed. She paced over to the window and peeked around the filmy curtain that protected them from the outside world and all its prying eyes and terrible concerns. Aiden’s cottage was situated away from the village a few miles away, so there were no people, just green fields and a copse of trees in the distance.
“I know you’re afraid.” Emilia turned back to see that Wren had left the bed as well and he came toward her slowly, like she was a filly that could spook if he wasn’t careful. “And after so long, I understand how it might feel hopeless. But let that go for now. We’ll work out our next step, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy what we’re sharing here as we do.”
She blinked. “More of…more of this?”
Aiden was sitting up in the bed. “Yes. You deserve that respite. We all do after so much time apart. Please, Emilia, don’t run off into some terrible future before it comes. Stay here with us. Be with us. Trust us.”
Wren looked back over his shoulder at him with a smile of adoration that warmed Emilia’s heart. Trust them. Of course she did, even though she realized that trusting anyone was hard after so many years of only having herself to depend upon. But the idea of not having to protect herself was such a relief.
She nodded. “I want that. And I…I’ll do my best not to let whatever the future may be ruin what is present. Ruin this.”
Wren reached out and took her hand, drawing her forward against his chest where he folded her into his safe, warm arms. She relaxed against him, reveling in the smell of him, the feel of him.
“As much as I’d love to watch you two hold each other for the next hour,” Aiden said, the smile in his voice recognizable even before Emilia looked at him and saw it brightening his face. “You need to eat. I’ll make food.”
Wren crooked his finger and Aiden’s brown eyes dilated instantly. He got up and came to them. Wren tugged him into the embrace. And just before he kissed Emilia, then drew Aiden in to join them in that kiss, he whispered, “In a little while, love. In a little while.”
CHAPTER7
Aiden
Aiden stood at the fire in the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew over the flames. He didn’t often cook for himself. He was a successful solicitor, he had servants, including a fine cook. As the son of a butler, he’d learned when he was a young man from other servants in Emilia’s house, before success had allowed him luxuries. He actually found the act of cooking relaxing. When he was doing it for two people he loved? Even better.
The past two days with Wren and Emilia had made their earlier declarations of love to each other even more true. Hedidlove them. And he was wracking his brain with some way they could be together, that they could save her from the fate so many women of her rank and position faced.
“You are frowning.”
He turned from the pot and smiled slightly as Wren entered the kitchen. He wore trousers, but he was shirtless and that ripple of muscle and flesh was utterly distracting. Even more so since Aiden knew the flavor of his skin, the way he trembled when he came, the absolute control he had when he was focused on making Aiden or Emilia…or both of them…do the same.
“I’m focused,” Aiden said, and returned his gaze to the stew, where he threw in a few herbs.
“On the food or the real problem?”
Aiden glanced at him again. “Both,” he admitted. “Where is Emilia?”
“Sleeping.” Wren frowned. “At least her nightmares have subsided, but her exhaustion is so plain. As if she hasn’t had truly restful sleep in years.”
Aiden sighed. “At least we can allow her that now. She knows she’s safe here with us.”
Wren took a seat at the table in the middle of the kitchen. Aiden had a wooden cutting board laid out there with a few carrots he intended to add closer to the end of cooking so they would retain crispness. Wren grasped the knife and began to cut them as they spoke.
“I expect we may receive a letter from her husband today, forwarded from a contact in London. If that happens, I intend to hide it from her.”
Aiden hesitated before he stirred the pot. “Lie to her.”
“No, protect her, as you said.” Wren shook his head. “She doesn’t need to know every vile thing that man will surely say. She has enough fear, I would spare her as much as I could.”
“And yet you’re angry that Emilia and I did just that same thing over the years with you,” Aiden said softly.
Now it was Wren who hesitated in his cutting. He didn’t look up. “That’s different. I wasn’t in danger from anything you two tried to protect me from.”
“Weren’t you?” Aiden said and now he faced Wren full on. “When your father died, you were much more vulnerable than I was.”
