Scandalous Passions (Highland Menage)

by Nicola Davidson

  “I have such evidence, Your Grace. If I may humbly approach.”

  James nodded. “You may, Lady Janet.”

  Lachlan could only gaze in awe as she marched toward the dais, a beautiful, wise termagant about to unleash hell. The room erupted again when she reached into the bodice of her gown to retrieve a folded piece of parchment and handed it to the king, and Lachlan pressed a fist to his lips so he did not laugh at the horror on the lawyer’s face, the anger on Queen Margaret’s, or how perfectly Janet Fraser it was to conceal an important document in such a place.

  God’s blood, how he loved her.

  “Hmm,” said James eventually. “I hold in my hand a document that I have examined and find to be proper and legal. It is a marriage promise between Lady Marjorie Hepburn and Sir Lachlan Ross, signed and witnessed. I declare it valid. However…”

  The hall went so quiet they could have heard a mouse breathe, and Lachlan gripped his thighs. What now?

  “However,” the king continued, “it is not right or proper that Her Grace the queen’s orders were disobeyed. The queen’s command is as my command; therefore punishment is required for the wrongdoing. Sir Lachlan Ross, Lady Marjorie Ross, stand together and be sentenced.”

  Silently Lachlan rose to his feet before walking to Marjorie. She took his arm, and he covered her hand with his and squeezed it because she was his cherished wedded wife, and woe betide anyone who attempted to come between them. Whatever the punishment, they would face it together. “Your Grace?”

  James had never looked sterner. “I am imposing a substantial fine. Sir Lachlan and Lady Marjorie, you shall both forfeit all property and coin. It is only my love for you that you do not forfeit your freedom. Be wed but destitute from this day…unless offered shelter, of course.”

  “I do so offer,” announced Lady Janet. “If Your Grace will permit.”

  “Granted. Now this matter is concluded; the legal minds shall depart. Lady Janet, you will offer Highland hospitality for the evening to your king, queen, and the court, yes?”

  She curtsied. “As Your Grace wishes.”

  Still reeling at the verdict, unable to say a word, Lachlan curved an arm around Marjorie’s shoulders. With a choked cry, she flung herself against him, and he held her tightly before leaning down and kissing her thoroughly. Saying with his lips what his mouth could not.

  All that they needed now was Lady Janet with them to be complete, and when he glanced up and met his mistress’s soft gaze, she smiled.

  “Take your wife to the solar, Sir Lachlan. I shall join you there presently.”

  His breath caught.

  At last, it seemed, paradise might just be possible.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Now, Jannie. You do understand it would be a treasonous act to hurl that goblet at my head?”

  Janet took a long swallow of wine, then saluted James with her weapon of choice. “While the thought of a goblet-shaped imprint on your forehead brings me great satisfaction, it would be a shameful waste of good wine, Your Grace.”

  The king’s lips twitched as he leaned against the chapel’s inner wall. “With your aim, I must declare you a low threat to my royal person.”

  “Maybe my aim has improved,” she replied archly.

  “Unwary guards shall rejoice to hear it.”

  Janet didn’t laugh. “How could you, James?” she asked softly. “How could you do that to Lachlan? To me? What you put us and dear Marjorie through is quite unforgivable.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face, and just for a moment she saw a man weighed down with a thousand cares. “In the morning I leave for the border. There are strong rumors of an uprising, and I must quell it. Another noble English and Scottish alliance by marriage would have been helpful… I did not want this trial, Jannie. But if Margaret had complained to her father, to diplomats and dignitaries, that she had been slighted, the English would have seized upon the excuse to make trouble. I do not wish for war with them or border raids; I have enough cares already in trying to hold this realm together. To stop my own clans and nobles warring and raiding. To replenish the treasury.”

  “You walk along a cliff edge,” she admitted.

  “Every hour of every day. However, trust that I always knew how the play would end. Because you are a clever lass, you had two copies of the promise made and argued those guards away from use of a dungeon. Now that is legal cunning. But I do know where Master Shaw and his clerk are, and if that document wasn’t stuffed in your bodice, then they would have appeared as witnesses. Queen Margaret will learn in time she resides in Scotland, and her bullish, arrogant Tudor ways are unwelcome here. But for better or worse, she is my wife and must be given all due respect.”

  Janet nodded reluctantly. “I understand your decision. I like it not, for it hurt me and those I love, but I do understand.”

  “Oh, you love them, do you?” said James softly, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk.

  She froze. And yet the astonishing words had come out of her mouth. “I…er…”

  “Oh-ho! No retreating now, my fiery lass. In truth I gifted you Lachlan because I thought you might do well together. He needs a strong lady, and there is none more so than you. Never did I think you would open your heart to him and Lady Marjorie. But you have always been a woman who forged her own path.”

  “Who says I have opened my heart to anyone?” she bit out, boldly dissembling to her king when that was exactly what had happened, even after swearing she would never love again after Fergus.

  James smiled, a little too morosely for her liking. “Go to them, Jannie. Declare yourself. You know as well as I do that happiness can be snatched away in a heartbeat, the one you love gone from you in an instant due to illness, nefarious actions, or an accident. Revel in every moment you have. Go now. I will act as host, as I have done so many times in this house.”

  She ran to him, kissing his cheek and embracing him tightly. “Stay safe. Scotland needs you, Your Grace, for a very long reign. You will always be dear to my heart.”

  “God bless and keep you, beloved.”

  With one last deep curtsy to her king, Janet turned and departed the chapel, nearly stumbling on the stairs in her haste to get to the solar where Lachlan and Marjorie waited. And yet when she reached the door, her steps halted.

  For a woman who had fought so hard and so long to establish command, choosing to be vulnerable again was an unnerving thing. The notion did not sit at all easily on her shoulders, and here she was about to offer her heart into the safekeeping of not one but two people. Love carried great risk, even more so as a trio, and the likelihood of her making mistakes as she’d done, of closing herself away from the chaotic nature of emotion was high.

  And yet…love brought joy. Comfort and understanding. The promise of a better and brighter tomorrow.

  She wanted that in her life. Needed it.

  Taking a deep breath, Janet pushed open the solar door before latching it behind her. In the center of the room, seated on the chaise, were Marjorie and Lachlan.

  Both rose to their feet, Lachlan bowing and Marjorie curtsying.

  “So,” said Janet, inwardly cursing as a boulder lodged in her throat. “Here we are.”

  “Lady…” said Lachlan hoarsely. “Mistress.”

  Wordlessly, she held out her arms, and soon she was whole again as they embraced, her body rejoicing at the sensation of Lachlan’s brute strength and Marjorie’s plump curves pressed against it.

  “My pet,” she whispered, kissing Lachlan square on the mouth before turning to Marjorie and doing the same. “My dear one. I was so afraid this might end differently. So very afraid. To lose you both would have been…”

  Marjorie shuddered. “I cannot bear to think about it. When that vile lawyer burned the copy of the promise in front of me, I despaired that he might have found your copy and done the
same. But it was in your bodice!”

  A soft laugh escaped. “I tucked it there when I saw the lawyers arrive. They did in fact search my chamber. I wish them to purgatory for what they did.”

  “You were so steadfast,” said Lachlan. “You and Marjorie. No forsaking. No betrayal. Even when…they offered temptation.”

  Janet raised an imperious brow. “They could have offered all the gold in Scotland, and I would not break. Some things…some things are so precious they must be fought for until your last breath.”

  “Such as?” said Marjorie, her gaze intent, her smile hopeful.

  “Come with me. To the chaise,” she replied, guiding both until they settled on either side of her on the sturdy piece of furniture. Ensuring all hands were clasped, she took another deep breath to prepare for the most important declaration of her life. “I did not think to love again. I thought my heart died with Fergus and that I would be content with affairs where they did not truly know me. I did not want them to know me, for when another knows your true self, they have great power. But then the king gifted me a Highland Beast and a convent virgin, and my entire world turned upside down. I began to feel again. I liked it not.”

  “And now?” Lachlan rasped.

  Janet shifted on the chaise. Devil take it, words were difficult when she would much rather show them with acts. “Now…it seems my world can only be complete with both a man and a woman to love. To protect. To cherish and command. No other man but Sir Lachlan Ross and no other woman but Lady Marjorie Ross will do. And that is that. I love you both. For always.”

  Silence greeted her words, and Janet tensed. Then Marjorie burst into tears and cuddled closer, and Lachlan moved to kneel at her feet, and a flame lit inside her. A flame that no trial or burden or unspoken words could douse.

  Joy. At long last.

  …

  Lady Janet loved them.

  Staring up at his two women, Lachlan drank in the perfection of the moment. Their clasped hands. Lady Janet’s smile. Marjorie’s tears of happiness.

  After the trial, when he and Marjorie had sat on the chaise, waiting for their mistress, they’d both been too weary, too emptied by the events of the previous days, to do more than just lean against each other, heads touching and fingers linked. Each taking comfort in the other, each waiting for the fiery redhead needed to make their world and marriage complete. The wait had seemed forever as he stared at the door, his ears straining for the sound of footsteps on the stairs, tormented by an agony of hope. For justice to be served, the king had taken everything he and Marjorie possessed, except their marriage. Lady Janet had offered shelter, and he yearned for that to mean so much more than charity.

  What she’d just declared had been beyond his wildest dreams.

  Lady Janet loved them.

  Lachlan swallowed hard. “I am s-so…h-h…”

  He cursed as a rush of emotion tangled his tongue and robbed him of speech. He wanted to say the words. Needed to say them after holding them inside for so long.

  Lady Janet let go of his hand and instead leaned forward and cupped his cheek. “Yes, my pet?”

  “Take your time, Lachlan,” said Marjorie, beaming at him. “We have all the time in the world now.”

  Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed it swiftly. Then he rubbed his cheek against Lady Janet’s hand, more Beast than ever before in the desire for affection. Now he’d had the taste of what it meant as a grown man to be loved, to be cared for, he could stand in the shadows no more.

  “I am,” he began, using all his will to get the words out in a clear manner, “so happy. Lady Janet…I have loved you…so long. To hear you…love me in return…is…is…a miracle. I had stopped…b-believing. My face. My body. My speech. I thought to n-never…find love. Then I was…blessed twice. A beloved mistress…and a beloved wife. Marjorie…”

  “Aye, husband?” she asked, her smile turning impish.

  “I fought…what I felt…for you. How could I c-care for…how could I love…two women? Two women…so different? But n-now I understand. All my needs met. To kneel. To protect and serve. A woman to…command me. A woman to…soothe me. And it is…paradise.”

  “It is, rather,” said Lady Janet. “Marjorie? Do you wish to say anything, dear one?”

  His wife nodded, squeezing both their hands. “My whole life, I was forsaken. Because of what my father did, I thought the most I could hope for was an ancient husband who might be kind. Never did I think I would meet a bold, beautiful, learned woman I desired. How could something called sinful feel so right? But then came more. A man I desired also. And this strong, brave man wed me. The desire soon blossomed into love. But although I hoped and prayed, I did not think to have that love returned, for surely I would never be good enough for the great Lady Janet Fraser or the great Sir Lachlan Ross. Yet…with your love, your teaching, your protection, I…I found myself at last. I found my voice and my purpose. I found courage to face the new and dangerous and unexpected. I found I am worthy. And for that, you have my loyalty and devotion. For always.”

  “Perfectly said,” replied Lady Janet, turning to kiss Marjorie sweetly on the lips.

  Utterly content, Lachlan leaned forward and rested his head on Lady Janet’s lap, his arms stretching to curve around each lady’s outer thigh. When two hands began stroking his hair, he thought he might happily stay like this forever.

  Until those two hands tangled in his hair and roughly tugged his head up.

  Sucking in a harsh breath at the delicious prickle of pain, Lachlan stared up at the two women, who were looking back at him with very wicked smiles.

  “We’ve each declared our hearts,” said Lady Janet. “Now it is time to show that love with our bodies.”

  “Ooooh, yes,” said Marjorie, her eyes sparkling. “Touching myself is quite wonderful, but it cannot compare to being touched and kissed and fucked by you both.”

  Lachlan laughed, delighted at her candor. She had been well taught. “What do my ladies w-wish?”

  “On your feet, pet,” said Lady Janet. “Marjorie and I shall assist you in undressing.”

  Even the thought of their hands on him once more almost made him moan. Never had he scrambled to his feet so swiftly.

  His women teased him unmercifully as they slowly removed his mantle, then unhooked the fastenings on his doublet, rubbing their breasts against his chest and back and arms, their fingers brushing his swelling cock and the curve of his arse through his hose.

  Marjorie paused and tilted her head. “May I ask…why always a red doublet?”

  Lachlan smiled ruefully. “The color was…my mother’s favorite. Naught to do with…blood.”

  “We shall conceal that fact from your enemies,” said Lady Janet, her eyes glinting. “Now for that shirt. ’Tis a sin to keep that magnificent chest covered.”

  Soon soft fingers caressed his skin, threaded through his chest hair, and tweaked his nipples before moving down to strip him of his shoes, hose, and stockings. By the time he stood naked, he panted with need.

  “Now, pet,” purred Lady Janet. “We are going to undress dear Marjorie. Tease her until she needs sweet release as much as you do.”

  His heart pounding with excitement, Lachlan assisted his mistress with undressing his wife. First her hood, then girdle and silver-embroidered gown, kirtle, and finally her shift, shoes, and stockings. Unable to resist the temptation, he stood behind Marjorie and cupped her breasts in his hands, pinching her tender nipples before offering them to Lady Janet to be sucked.

  Marjorie whimpered.

  “Something the matter, dear one?” asked Lady Janet lazily, flicking her tongue over those swollen tips as one finger trailed down Marjorie’s stomach, parted her bush, and stroked her center.

  “Is she wet enough, mistress?” Lachlan rasped, gently biting the curve of his wife’s neck and turning her whimpers into a plea
ding cry.

  “Not quite, pet. Sit on the chaise with Marjorie on your lap. Spread her thighs wide for me. You want me to taste that sweet little cunt, don’t you dear one?”

  “Please,” Marjorie begged. “Please.”

  Almost shaking with lust, his cock throbbing with the need to spend, Lachlan sat on the chaise and carefully settled his wife on his lap, hooking her legs over his before sliding both hands down and parting the crisp hair. Marjorie’s hips circled in an attempt to get him to touch her pearl, but his questing fingers merely circled the swollen bud before delving farther down to stroke the pink, petal-soft flesh. Already the heady scent of her arousal perfumed the air.

  Lady Janet licked her lips, her gaze pure hunger, and Lachlan grinned.

  “Enjoy your feast, mistress.”

  “Oh, I shall.”

  …

  Lachlan’s brawny chest supporting her, Janet’s wicked tongue teasing her, was wondrous enough. But knowing they both loved her also…

  Marjorie trembled, her heart so full, her body craving the touch of her husband and mistress so much, she could scarcely see straight. Each time they were together, she thought she knew how pleasure felt and what to expect. Yet each time Janet and Lachlan took her to new heights, and now, safe and loved and cherished and protected, it seemed she might soar to the heavens. Just a moment more. A moment more of Lachlan kissing and nipping at her neck, and Janet sucking her pearl and gently penetrating her with two fingers, and she would reach an ecstasy like no other…

  Her eyes flew open. “Nooooo!” she spluttered. “Why did you stop?”

  Janet sat back on her heels and licked her glistening lips. “Because, dear one, we are going to change position. I shall undress, then we’ll arrange some cushions on the ground for Lachlan to lie on. While you ride him until he spends every drop of seed inside you, he will lick my cunt.”

  Marjorie stilled, hardly daring to hope, and below her, she felt Lachlan tense in surprise also. “Inside me?”