Page 25 of A Lady, Her Lord, & Their Duke

“Cunning indeed,” said Arabella, laughing. “Your hair looks wonderful, by the way. Where are the rest of the family?”

“Here, Lady C,” said a Scots brogue from the doorway, and she turned to wave at tall, auburn-haired Gerard Hunter, who was cradling a warmly wrapped infant against his shoulder and holding Lord Whitmore’s hand. “We’re taking this wee rascal for a stroll in the park. Surely he cannae stay awake all week.”

“God willing,” said Katherine, blowing them both a kiss.

Once the men departed, Arabella raised a brow. “Not sleeping?”

Katherine sighed. “Miles hates to miss a moment. No doubt in the park he’ll nap like an angelic cherub. But please. I’m desperate to discuss anything other than babies. I haven’t even had time to read a book, so it is your duty as a friend to entertain me. Do proceed.”

Arabella rallied herself. “I need your counsel on something that only you or perhaps Viola Townsend-Grant could answer.”

The countess lit up. “You’re considering a permanent threesome arrangement?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” said Arabella. Unable to remain seated, she stood and began pacing the parlor. “I mean, we haven’t even discussed such an arrangement with the gentleman. He’s a novice in every sense of the word. To pleasure. To submission. To intimacy with another man. But the way he’s embracing it so swiftly…it’s actually beautiful to observe. And so, so arousing.”

“You like him,” said Katherine slowly. “I mean really like him.”

Arabella nodded helplessly. “I didn’t think I could ever have romantic feelings for a man other than Nev. My husband is everything to me, and I certainly don’t love him any less. What the bloody hell is going on? No other playfellow made me feel like this. I’ve broken all my rules and you know how I feel about rules.”

The countess laughed. “Arabella, this was me a year ago. I did not understand how I could have feelings for two men. Especially two so very different men. But sometimes the heart expands. I could not choose between Michael and Gerard, and thank God I do not have to. The best way forward is speaking to His Grace. See what his hopes or wishes are.”

“Excuse me?” said Arabella, freezing. “Who?”

Katherine rolled her eyes. “Please. I saw you two dancing and talking at our soiree. It went from chilly to scorching, then you watched each other all night. But I won’t say a word to anyone. This is your story.”

Heat swept across Arabella’s cheekbones. So much for discretion. And naturally, talking to Edmund was the correct way forward. But that sounded far too easy. It was too easy. Men and women had a knack for complicating everything because of fear or worry or a previous bad experience. For heaven’s sake, even she and Nev had met terrible playfellows; the reason why they restricted threesome activities to the safety of Sanctuary.

But if they did move forward as a trio, Edmund wouldn’t be the only novice.

This would be new for all of them.

“Well, it’s bloody unnerving,” said Arabella irritably. “I’m a merchant’s daughter to the bone, lowest risk for highest return. But this couldn’t be riskier. And it’s not just my heart on the line, it’s Nev’s heart, too. And our marriage. What if Edmund doesn’t want a future with us? He sits at the pinnacle of society and has two children to consider. Damn it…”

Her vision blurred.

Katherine gasped, then jumped up to curl an arm around her shoulder. “Wait. Don’t withdraw from the race before it has even begun! Yes, the duke is at the top of the tree, but it must be awfully lonely up there by himself. And hard for him to trust, when nearly everyone covets his title and money. Give him time, and yes, grace for mistakes. Give yourself grace. Unfortunately, there is no helpful title at Hatchards like A Lady’s Guide to Households of Three. Perhaps I should write it.”

Arabella sighed. “Yes, you should. But such rational advice is lost on me today, I fear.”

Katherine patted her shoulder. “There, there. However, I cannot emphasize enough the importance of patience and plain speaking in a trio. Michael and Gerard and I each have our quirks and virtues…and we’ve learned to express ourselves much better. Some like to show their love. Others prefer to speak of it. I need to do both, for my men understand love differently. I know you are the most generous woman alive, but don’t forget words of affection are just as powerful. Let them see your tender, vulnerable side.”

“I understand,” Arabella replied, nodding, even as butterflies unleashed in her stomach.

She and Nev had quite a perilous path ahead. And no guaranteed reward.

Edmund finished the last bite of his late breakfast, a decadent combination of coddled eggs, ham, fried potato, herbed tomatoes, buttered toast with marmalade, and hot tea, and sat back in his chair with a contented sigh. Over the past week, like a true rake, he’d not returned home from Sanctuary until three in the morning each time, then stayed abed until eleven.

Even with some of Nev’s soothing ointment, his arse remained tender from all the spanking and dildo-fucking…but he felt astonishingly light of spirit. In truth, leaving the warm and cozy diamond chamber bed with Madam Arabella and Nev wrapped around him was always wrenching. How were those hours the soundest sleep he’d ever experienced? Here at Stanforth House he possessed the best four-poster bed and the finest linen that money could buy. Yet he rarely enjoyed a good night’s rest.

Now, for perhaps the first time in decades, he felt…good.

“So, Father, I am wondering…when are you going to confess?”

Edmund jerked upright and raised an imperious brow at his daughter, who was currently standing at the sideboard and piling a plate of food higher than his. “Confess?”

Cressida sighed audibly and walked to the table before setting her plate down beside him. “I heard you humming from the hallway. Humming. Like a demented bumblebee. On several occasions you’ve stayed out until three, slept late, and eaten like you’ve been plowing fields since dawn. So I ask you once again: when are you going to confess?”

Christ. This must be what it felt like to be interrogated in a court of justice. No, that would probably be easier, for no man had Cressida’s smiling assassin tenacity. “Another father might point out that precisely none of those things are your business.”