Duty to Love

by Morgan King

  The only solution Arthur thought might bring them all a measure of happiness was if the three of them could somehow construct a relationship together. A relationship where they all lived together, all shared emotional ties, and all shared the marriage bed, where there were no secrets or divisive arrangements to cause jealousy.

  How to broach the subject and get all parties to give the prospect serious consideration was the challenge Arthur had been grappling with since he’d come to the conclusion it might be possible to all share a marriage together if they all truly loved each other. The problem was Arthur didn't know how deeply Amelia really felt about him or James.

  Suggesting a ménage could result in Arthur losing both James and Amelia, or it could result in them all gaining a great deal of love and happiness.

  Arthur wasn't usually a man to take risks, but he valued not giving up and being in control of his own destiny far above letting a contract dictate his happiness and the happiness of those he loved.

  Taking a sip of whiskey Arthur took a moment to choose his next words with care. Slowly, slowly, was his mantra to himself. He intended to bring James round to the idea first, and then together they could introduce the idea to Amelia, showing her it could work rather than scaring her by suggesting something her upbringing would not have prepared her for.

  “I would be happy for you to resign your commission and return home—God knows the estate needs us both—but I will not have you undermining my marriage. You will have to accept Amelia and me together, or there will be no alternative but for you to leave. James, I don't want it to come to that. You are my only sibling, and you must know how dearly I hold you in my affections.” There hadn't been a week gone by that Arthur hadn't written to James while he was absent.

  “I don't know if I can bear it, Arthur. Whitmore refused to let me make an offer for Amelia, saying I must wait for you and Francine to be married first. Given no choice I determined to wait while never ceasing to love her, need her.” James paused a moment, dragging a hand though his hair, before continuing. “Can you say you are celibate? I have been since four years ago when Amelia turned sixteen, and I knew I would not betray her, the woman I loved.”

  James's confession offered in a voice gruff with sincerity stunned Arthur. The intensity of the emotions that James revealed convinced Arthur he was doing the right thing in proposing they should both be allowed to show their love to Amelia.

  “Not four years, no,” Arthur said honestly. “I would have been faithful to Francine once our vows were made, but I was not waiting for her. However, since her death and with the knowledge that I could marry Amelia I have had no desire for dalliances.”

  It was fair to say he had never really desired them before. Sexual relations with any woman inevitably found him making comparisons with Amelia. He would fondle a woman's breasts all the while thinking that Amelia's looked as if they would feel firmer, fuller. Plunging into a warm cunt led him to wonder if Amelia would be tighter, wetter. He might not have been celibate for four years, but Amelia was the only woman he had been having sex with in his mind.

  “This isn't a competition, James, to see who loves Amelia most. At least I sincerely don't want it to be. I think Amelia has loved us both as friends for several years while her feelings have deepened for me this past year. I had thought we might all be able to be happy living together.” Arthur whispered the last sentence.

  “Happy together.” James laughed with no humor. “I would be in agony. I am already in agony. If I thought I could kill you I would call you out. If I thought I could hurt you the first you would have seen of me would have been my fist. I have restrained myself with Amelia, holding out for her as my future wife. I couldn't bear to live in the same house and not be able to touch her.”

  “You restrained yourself so much that she doesn't even know how you feel about her. Before Francine died plans were being made for Amelia to have a season next year. Whitmore clearly had no intention of letting you marry Amelia before he could see if she could land anyone he thought a better match. Did you tell Amelia how you felt, that you had sought permission for her hand from her father, because she mentioned nothing to me about it?”

  “No, I didn't trust myself to reveal my feelings and not act on my desire for her even without a clear wedding date in sight. I didn't want to cause Amelia greater distress when I left for the army. There were numerous reasons I kept things platonic with Amelia. Clearly this was a tactical error, for I failed to realize that clearly it was a competition.”

  James suddenly turned towards Arthur. “You've been seducing Amelia all this time, haven't you? No wonder your betrothal to Francine dragged for years.”

  “I hardly call waiting two years ‘til Francine was nineteen dragging. I needed time to concentrate on the estate, and then Francine fell ill. No one thought she wouldn't recover, or I'm sure her father would have had us marry immediately. I admit I have courted Amelia this past year, but that is only since Francine's death, knowing that we must marry.”

  It was at moments such as these that Arthur grew tired of justifying himself. To just marry Amelia, James be damned, was tempting.

  “I bet you wished I hadn't made it back in time.”

  Maybe I do now, thought Arthur, before saying, “Actually I wish you'd got back a damn sight sooner, so we could have dealt with this more than a day before my wedding.”

  “Another inconvenience to be dealt with, that's how you see me, isn't it?”

  Did James really feel as if he was an inconvenience, or was he saying things he didn't mean in the heat of the moment? Arthur would hate to think there was such a monumental misunderstanding between them.

  “You couldn't be more wrong. I wanted time for us to talk things over, time for you to adjust to the situation rather than have it thrust on you, but I didn't want to cause you to desert from the army before you were back in England where you would a least be in a position to apply for leave and to resign your commission if you wished to do so. I think it would have been good for the three of us, Amelia, you, and me, to see if we could all still get on well together, now that we are all adults and not children larking around.”

  “Get on well together! Where do you get this notion of happy families, Arthur? Oh, because it’s never been a competition to you. You've always had anything you wanted, that's right.”

  Arthur's temper snapped. “I suppose I wanted mother to die? I suppose I wanted father to die before I was thirty, leaving me nothing but debts to manage?” Breathing ragged, his words turned weary. “I don't want to argue about it. I just want us to find a solution.”

  “Don't you see? There is no solution,” said James, obvious resignation and anger causing his voice to crack.

  Arthur braved revealing what had been in his mind for months now. “I think there might be a solution, a way that we can all have what we want. I must and want to marry Amelia, and you don't want to lose Amelia. What if you weren't going to lose her, if you could also be with her, if it were as if you were also married to her? Not behind my back, but could you share Amelia? What if she welcomed us both together?”

  “Are you insane? Amelia is not some whore!” James's words and tone were outraged.

  “I would never suggest she is; it is you who suggest it.” Arthur had never thought that sharing Amelia would degrade her, or place a value on her body that meant she could be bought. Despite the fact that money was changing hands as part of their marriage, he was determined it not play a part in how either he or Amelia were to view each other.

  “It's an insane prospect. How can you contemplate sharing your wife, even with me?”

  “I would be doing it for the sake of all our happiness. Is it insane that we both love the same woman? I think not. She is eminently worthy. Is it insane to believe we could all live together in accord? I think not. the three of us spent many happy times together as young adults. Is it insane, then, to want the three of us to share a physical intimacy? Why? I would like to think the two of us
together could bring her greater pleasure than either of us could alone, and I for one would not experience the jealousy that being cuckolded would cause.”

  “Even if we were both happy with such an arrangement, Amelia would be understandably shocked by such a proposal.”

  “It would have to be Amelia's choice. We would both have to accept beforehand to abide by whatever decision she made. Of course she would be shocked at first, but we would be offering her the love and attention of two men.” Arthur was fully aware that they would both be risking an uncertain future on their ability, combined ability, to seduce away Amelia's reservations.

  “How would you even begin to broach the subject with Amelia? You haven't exactly shown any tactfulness in discussing the idea with me.”

  The fact that James was raising practicalities gave Arthur some hope.

  James was also right that they needed to have a plan of campaign, one that took into account that there was very little time in which to subtly make suggestions to Amelia or accustom her to the thought of being with both Arthur and James.

  “We would have to test whether she might be receptive. Are you at least willing to see if we can engage her interest?” That was as far as Arthur had been able to see in terms of how they might proceed. They needed to try to gauge Amelia's feelings towards both brothers when they were all together again, and they needed to know if she could respond to both of them physically. Could arousal supersede any hesitancy at engaging in the forbidden?

  “How do you think we could test her willingness?” The lack of focus in James's eyes made Arthur think he probably had some idea how to go out about it.

  “I didn't know you needed instruction with women.” Arthur smiled. “I'm sure once you get back in the saddle it'll all come back to you.”

  Looking at the expression on James's face Arthur gave a burst of laughter. Arthur had never been one for teasing in the past; in fact his sense of humor was a newly developed side of his character that spending time in close proximity with Amelia had brought out. He felt comfortable being less reserved around her. He liked to tease her and watch her color rise in response.

  “Practice, I definitely need practice. I think a kiss with Amelia is the perfect place to start.”

  Relief filled Arthur. James had taken his teasing well. The tension from their earlier confrontation seemed to have dissipated. Admittedly James hadn't committed to trying to seduce Amelia together, but it appeared as if they were going to see how it all played out.

  “We will have to move quickly and pay a visit to Amelia this afternoon. We'll let her know you're back and invite her to go for a walk. If we can create an opportunity for us both to touch her, maybe even kiss her all the better,” Arthur said, a hint of eagerness making his words come quickly.

  “Very well, we'll go see Amelia this afternoon. I hope she will be pleased to see me.” James finally ceased his perpetual movement and sank into one of the winged arm chairs Arthur kept on either side of the fireplace.

  Arthur joined him clarifying his intentions. “I want us together in this from the start. I wish to consummate the marriage, and fully intend to do so tomorrow night, but, Amelia willing, I hope you will join us, so there are no closed doors between us. Anything else will be up to Amelia.”

  “Let us see how this afternoon goes first.”

  Arthur got the impression there was something James wasn't saying, but didn't want to push him on it now they appeared to be in agreement. He just prayed this afternoon went well.

  Chapter Two

  Amelia smoothed her hands down the front of her pastel blue dress, the flats of her palms gently tracing the folds of muslin that gathered under her bust before falling past her hip to the floor. It was one of her better dresses—reserved for visiting neighbors—and without the telltale scuffs and stains that accompanied any of her other dresses worn out of the house during the day.

  When seeing Arthur, she always had the desire to look her best, not because she thought he minded how she looked, and certainly not because of her parents' wish that she look the part of a countess in preparation for fulfilling the role, but because the thought of Arthuralways so well turned out, always thinking of others—made her aspire to improve those aspects of herself she wasn't happy with. Arthur was always sure to notice the details of appearance, and Amelia couldn't help wanting to be perfect for him, to be a blessing, not a hindrance.

  She still found it difficult to believe that tomorrow they were to be married. Being a countess certainly didn't fit with the image she had of herself. The idea that Arthur—an earl, so sure of himself, so much older than she—would want her for a wife seemed ludicrous. He was everything a gentleman should be in looks and temperament.

  She supposed he was only a little taller than average, but the width of his shoulders and the strength of his presence made him stand out when in a room with others. And despite his somewhat austere persona when in social circles, he never had a harsh word for anyone. Whether family, servants, or tenants, he spoke to all with respect. During his frequent visits while Francine was ill, he would sit and converse with Amelia attentively, showing interest not just with whatever she had recently been engaged in, but more often her thoughts and opinions. Amelia didn't feel she could possibly deserve such a man.

  The thought of attaining something she'd always viewed as out of reach was almost unbearably exciting. Through all the time they had spent in each other’s company, Amelia had been aware that Arthur must see her as a younger sister, rather than a woman, his equal.

  As a consequence her mind hadn't stopped racing since Arthur has proposed. She kept going over and over the moment in her mind, the details changing a little each time as she struggled to remember past the, “Is this really happening?” thought that had consumed her at the time.

  Arthur had come to call after business in Hinchley, as he'd fallen into the habit of doing over the past eighteen months. The weather had been fine, and they'd decided to go for a ride. Mary, Amelia's maid and companion, had ostensibly gone with them, but she was not a confident rider, despite being frequently put upon a horse by Amelia. Arthur and Amelia had quickly raced ahead, enjoying each other’s company as a consequence of their shared pleasure in riding. When they'd eventually slowed to a trot Arthur had impulsively leaned over to grasp her hands, which were loosely holding her reins. Both their horses had come to a standstill as Amelia had instinctively tightened her grip, pulling on her reins, and Arthur had followed suit with his remaining free hand.

  She'd looked at him in surprise, their gazes locking, and then without preamble he'd asked, “Amelia, will you do me the honor of agreeing to become the Countess of Hentonbury?”

  At least that’s what she thought he’d said. It had taken Amelia a few stunned seconds to work out that he was proposing marriage. The first words that sprang to her lips were those her father had drilled into her and Francine on the off chance that someone would dare to court them directly. Given that her father had never had a lot to say to her they must have stuck in her mind.

  “Have you approached my father?”

  Amelia felt herself flush at the memory: To be proposed to by an earl—by Arthur—and not to immediately convey her gratitude had been sheer stupidity on her part. Her mind might not have known the right answer straight away, but every fiber of her body had responded yes. Luckily he had taken no offense. Instead he'd said, “Your father has indeed given his consent. He was keen to see the joining of our families still go ahead.”

  The reminder that Arthur had been to marry Francine, that it was only a year since her sister's death and only following that tragedy that Arthur had begun to court her had shocked Amelia from her wonder-induced stupor. Her first thought—that Arthur had fallen in love with her over the preceding year, as she had with him—she recognized as her true stupidity.

  Of course this would be another contract agreement, a title bought with money. Both Amelia and Francine had known that their father intended to use his mon
ey to gain them entry to the aristocracy and enable any grandchildren of his to be future peers of the realm. It had allowed Amelia to tamp down her own feelings of jealousy over Francine marrying Arthur. Arthur had not preferred Francine over Amelia.

  In response to Arthur she'd schooled her features appropriately and given the polite assurances required so that Arthur was content that he'd secured her hand, and whatever his motivations Arthur did seem to genuinely wish her for his wife. He'd spoken of a happy marriage, not one of convenience.

  She wasn't sure if it was her memory playing tricks on her, but she liked to imagine he'd concluded the exchange with his fingers caressing the bare skin of her wrist and the whispered words, “It will be a long wait.”

  Every time she'd glanced at Arthur as they rode back she'd seen a small smile fixed upon his face. It had been enough to keep the smile on her own face until sleep took it from her that night.

  Now her body felt on edge again, as it had that day, and she wasn't sure why. It was almost like she was nervous, giddy at the mere thought of seeing Arthur.

  With Mary following two steps behind, Amelia climbed as gracefully as she could manage up the steps to Henton Hall, the seat of the Earl of Hentonbury. Amelia climbed carefully, trying not to trip on her long skirts as she ascended the steep stairway. While her efforts detracted from her hoped-for easy, natural grace, at least she didn’t have to grip the balustrade as Mary did. She much preferred the days, now long past, of sneaking through the kitchen entrance with Arthur and James, their fingers ready to snatch any unguarded pastries.

  Roeburn was opening the door even before she'd raised the heavy knocker.

  “Miss Whitmore,” he said deferentially while taking her gloves, bonnet, and fur-trimmed pelisse. “Is the Master expecting you?”