“Ilsa, you look divine.” His smile turned to confusion when he saw the solicitor’s envelope in her hand.
“Mr. Williams took me by surprise today.” She turned to the hearth. “I cannot accept this bestowment.”
He grabbed her wrist before she could toss it in the fire. “Ilsa, don’t be absurd.” He took it out of her hand. “It’s a simple marriage agreement, nothing more.”
“It isn’t right for me to accept. I…my conscience won’t allow it.”
He urged her to the convenience. “You’re upset. That’s understandable. But by all means, don’t do anything rash.”
He poured a brandy and pressed the cool crystal into her hand.
Frederick resumed his seat, chuckling. “Perhaps this is her way of backing out of the marriage. I’ve heard brides sometimes shy away just like men.”
She sensed Frederick was teasing her to make her guilt seem silly. “I thought it was understood that I cannot be the wife you need.”
“And I thought it was understood you are precisely the wife I need.”
She frowned. “It isn’t right of me to accept your name in marriage when I cannot provide you—”
“An heir?” he interrupted. “We’ve been through all this.”
Frederick continued to chuckle. “Your first spat. How adorable.”
“This is a marriage of appearances to appease my father and any other gossipmongers who feel the need to wag their tongues.” When she opened her mouth he raised his voice. “I am quite content with this arrangement, and I wish you would learn to be as well.”
She pointed to the envelope Bradford clutched. “That is no cottage. It’s an estate on nine acres of land!”
“I fail to see the problem.”
“I cannot accept something so grand if I am to be…simply…your wife on paper.”
“As my wife on paper you’ll accept much more than that.”
“There you go again.” She sipped a too-large mouthful of brandy and coughed as it rolled down her throat like a rock. Lunch had been nearly seven hours ago. The spirit burned a path to her stomach and she could literally feel the vapors rising into her head.
“I think we all know the problem here,” Frederick said idly.
“I don’t deserve more than that,” Ilsa protested.
“Of course you do. And remember this—it is a marriage for appearances, therefore keeping them up is our most critical goal.”
“If it weren’t for me,” Frederick continued, “there wouldn’t be an issue.”
“These dresses, the jewelry. It’s too much.”
“Had you been raised with wealth, this would all seem very commonplace.” Bradford set the envelope on the mantle and took her by the arms. “It is because you never had these things that they are overwhelming to you, but in my eyes it is a travesty you’ve never owned a fine dress of your own.”
She managed to smile back at him. But it was precisely his kindness that made her guilt burn so hotly.
“Remember your promise.” Bradford’s voice held teasing. “No decisions until Saturday, after the wedding. And certainly no bloody burning of documents.”
She took a seat across from Frederick. “All right.” She sipped again, finding it easier to agree with the lightness of brandy in her head.
“Would you stay if I weren’t here?” Frederick eyed her.
Bradford finally acknowledged Frederick. “That’s an irrelevant question,” he said quickly. “And one I don’t want answered.”
“Well of course her answer would be yes. It is precisely her fear of ravishment at the hands of two men which causes her trepidation.”
Ilsa sipped her brandy nervously. She lowered the glass, staring into the swirling golden liquid. She didn’t like being spoken of as if she weren’t in the room.
Bradford paced away. “That isn’t the problem here.”
“It certainly is,” Frederick argued.
“Frederick is correct in that claim.” Once she lifted her eyes to his she was proud of her courage, and then just as quickly regretful. Frederick’s returned gaze wasn’t accusing or condemning. “But only half right. I am a commoner, Mr. Stratton. That is why I am uncomfortable accepting a gift such as an estate.”
“You are the daughter of a Norwegian textiles baron, as you were introduced to the Earl of Brighton and Lady Waxford,” he corrected. “And it is a cottage.”
“For heaven’s sake, can we not address the true issue?” Frederick shook his head and slugged back the bottom of his glass. He rose to pour himself another. “Ilsa, nothing about you is common, most certainly not the calm with which you accepted your future husband’s lover. What female would tolerate another man, let alone consider sharing their bed with him?”
Bradford quirked one side of his mouth. “He’s right in that, my dear.”
Her heart gave a kick. The glug-glug-glug of brandy echoed in her ears as Frederick poured from the crystal decanter.
“Sadly, what is also uncommon about you, Ilsa, is the torture you endured at the hands of those vicious men. But I’ll remind you, you survived it.”
She swallowed another too-large mouthful of brandy and nearly gagged.
Bradford turned away and continued his slow pace of the room. “I do not like the tone of this conversation,” he said into his glass.
“My point is this—the way to overcome your tragedy is to challenge it.”
“I don’t understand.” She silently cursed her weak voice.
“To do precisely that which frightens you. Get back upon the horse, and all that. Which I’ll add you did today, and you’re still alive to tell the tale.”
“Are you mad?” Bradford demanded.
“Tell me, when those men took you, did they do so at the same time?”
“Frederick!” Bradford barked.
“It is a simple question. Was there dual penetration?”
“Ilsa, do not answer that.” Bradford slammed his glass down on a marble-topped table. “Frederick, for one who claims himself wise beyond his years, you are grossly incompetent when it comes to women.”
“Perhaps that is because I prefer men,” Frederick retorted in a sarcastic tone.
“Don’t you wish to know the answer?” Ilsa’s whisper cut the room into silence. Her heart was pounding so ferociously her body shook. Both men faced her. Their silence, Bradford’s most critically, said they did.
“No, they did not take me at the same time.”
“Then perhaps you should do so with us. After all, wasn’t it you who said ‘when it is done right, it is so, so right’?”
“Eee-nufff!” Bradford growled.
Her vision narrowed and pitched.
“I merely propose Ilsa engage in an act which exceeds that which she endured at the hands of those brutes, on her own terms. Perhaps that is the only way she’ll get over her fear.”
“The mere suggestion is grotesque. Ilsa, I apologize.”
“It is not my intention to offend the lady, I simply propose a challenge. In fact, a series of challenges. Ilsa is no wilting flower.”
Bradford stalked over to Frederick and grabbed him by the lapels. Fury blazed in his eyes. “She is to be my wife and I will decide what she will and will not do. And as her husband, my single greatest purpose will be to see that no harm comes to her, not ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
They were both so focused on each other they did not see her rise. “I’ll do it.”
Both men gawked at her.
“I will do it,” she repeated.
Bradford still held Frederick by his dinner coat, but he’d relaxed the grip of his fists. Frederick pulled back and smoothed his lapels. In Bradford’s brilliant eyes she could see his argument brewing, but he appeared to be overcome by shock.
Ilsa walked to the convenience to set down her glass. Her hand shook violently, just like her stomach felt. She faced them, but hesitated before speaking. Her tongue would surely flop about uselessly if she tried.
&nbs
p; “You see, she understands the logic.” Frederick swallowed, clearly unnerved by Bradford’s violence. “And she knows that my intention is to help, certainly not to hurt her further.”
“No.” Bradford straightened his own coat. “Ilsa, when you first came here, I told you I would never ask you to do what you cannot. I don’t intend to go back on that now.”
His heartfelt words chased away the terror lancing her heart. Ilsa went to him and touched his chest. He took her hand and wrapped it in both of his.
“Bradford, I want more than anything to be the woman you need.”
“You already are. Can’t you see that?”
“I want to do this.” She truly did. Since agreeing, the weight of her fear, the sickening shame she’d carried since the night those men violated her, seemed to be lifting away. “Frederick is correct. I need to do this.”
“Not for me.” Bradford shook his head. “You don’t need to prove anything to me.”
“No, not for you. For me.” She smiled. “I need to or I’ll never get over it. I realize now I cannot live with this pain.”
She turned to Frederick and reached for him. He took her hand.
“Thank you, Frederick. Thank you for sharing your life with me.”
“I don’t just want you here.” He touched her face. “I want you to be happy here.”
Bradford crossed his arms. “All right, wise one. What do you propose?”
Frederick’s cheeks flooded pink. He pulled his cravat away from his Adam’s apple. “Well, er, a strict set of rules, to begin with. To assure nothing occurs that was not agreed upon beforehand.”
Ilsa went to the chaise, where she sat alone. She needed some distance in order to fathom his words. Bradford paced back to the marble-topped table by the piano and retrieved his glass. He held it up, no doubt searching for a crack.
“Today is Tuesday. Your wedding is Saturday. That leaves us four nights prior and your wedding night.”
Still no one else spoke. Frederick cleared his throat.
“As part of this agreement, if Ilsa ends this challenge before all five…tests are completed, she agrees to take the endowment and go nowhere but the estate in Aberystwyth.” Frederick eyed her. When she didn’t argue, he continued. “If she completes the tests on the night of her wedding and still decides she cannot stay with us, she agrees to go nowhere but the estate in Aberystwyth.”
Ilsa took a deep breath. “Agreed.” She made a mental promise to herself that she would complete all tasks, regardless of the discomfort she might experience doing so. She owed them that much, at the very least. There was nothing these men could do to her that was worse than what had already been done, short of going wild and tearing at her like jackals. And even if they did, at least she knew these two men and cared for them.
I care for them deeply, she realized. The understanding brought both an ache of joy, and fear of a new kind. There was much more at stake here than just her body.
They both looked to Bradford, who took a deep breath. “Agreed.”
“Each night but the last, regardless of where the test takes place, you will return to your room alone and pass the night undisturbed. None of us shall change this rule.”
She and Bradford agreed to this as well.
“Your first test will be…” Frederick stared off at a spot on the carpet, in thought. “I’ve got it. Since women are inherently bad at polishing, tonight you’ll receive instruction in the art of fellatio. One of us will instruct, and the other will receive.”
She settled into a strange euphoria. That she could do. She’d seen both men naked in a state of arousal, and both were quite beautiful.
“Have you ever had a man’s cock in your mouth?”
“Frederick, please.” Bradford seemed embarrassed by such talk, yet the gleam in his brilliant blue eyes said he had moved beyond anger into excitement.
“Frankness is a part of our relationship, therefore it will also be part of our union as three.”
“Still, there is a way to talk amongst men, and a way to speak in the presence of a lady.”
“I’m not offended by the word, Bradford.” She was pleased with herself for the courage to say so. “No, I have not had a man’s cock in my mouth.”
“Good,” Frederick sang out. “No bad habits to unlearn. Now, who shall instruct, and who shall receive? Bradford should receive, I believe, as he’s quite picky and I’ve come to learn all his particular preferences.”
“By the devil I am not picky.”
“Pardon me, but you’ve more rules and requirements than a boarding school. Besides, you are to be her husband, so she ought to know your needs best.”
Ilsa smothered a giggle. Frederick did his best to make this easy for her, and she loved him for it. She’d passed beyond terrified into giddiness, and oddly enough felt like laughing. Perhaps the brandy had something to do with it.
“Your second test shall be…second and third, one night and then the next, to make love to one of us while the other watches. The first night it shall be me, I think, to establish early on whether or not Bradford can share.”
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. That didn’t sound so bad, either.
“Each night you shall only make love to one of us. We give you our solemn vow of this, and even if you were to request more from the other, we shall refuse.”
“I agree,” she said. She felt lightheaded, prickly with joy. She should have known Bradford and Frederick would only ask what she could give. Part of her euphoria came from knowing she could give it.
“Why the devil do you get to make up these tests and their rules?” Bradford tossed a hand to show his exasperation.
Frederick shrugged. “By all means, what do you propose?”
“Oh go on, then.” He frowned. “Ilsa, you may speak up. You don’t have to agree to each of his audacious ideas.”
“So far I find them quite agreeable,” she said. “Have you a complaint?”
He’d been pacing a hole in the carpet. She was relieved to see him sit in the Queen Anne cater-corner to the chaise. “I suppose not.”
“Given Bradford’s bossy nature, I propose that on night two and night three, the watcher cannot speak or interfere.”
“Bossy nature, for all the saints,” Bradford muttered.
“Though it is the watcher who will decide the position, I think. Yes, I think that would be best. To give whoever watches a purpose in the act.”
“Agreed,” Bradford grumbled.
Ilsa nodded. “Yes, agreed.”
“Night four, I propose it is Ilsa who watches us. Similar rules apply, she cannot interfere. Do you think you can do this, Ilsa?”
Her cheeks heated. They still didn’t know she’d already spied them once, and listened purposely to the private sounds coming from their chamber nearly every night. She’d itched to peek in on them again, and the only thing that had kept her from the keyhole was respect for the beauty of their union, and perhaps a smidgeon of envy.
“Oh yes,” she said a little too breathlessly.
“Bradford, do you agree?”
“Why the bloody hell not?”
“Hmm, yes, I like this. It shall be nice to spend the night with my lover before he weds another. I suspect my fragile ego will benefit from the extra attention.”
“Frederick, remember this whole absurd idea is yours. I never intended to make you feel left out.”
“And I too apologize, Frederick. I never meant to make you feel threatened.”
Frederick had been pacing excitedly in front of them. “Ha, you two, I jest. Truly, I’m delighted to have Ilsa here. I thought you both knew. Bradford never could tell a joke.”
“Perhaps you simply aren’t funny.”
“Please, Frederick.”
The men stopped their banter and looked at her.
“Continue,” she said softly. “The final test.”
“The fifth night…”
Silence, heavy like wet ve
lvet, was broken only by the crackling of the hearth.
“This will be the night you pass in our bed. Bradford and I will possess you at the same time. One in your ass, one in your cunt. I dare say your wedding night will be like none other.”
To hear him say it confirmed it as well as in stone. One in my ass, one in my cunt. I can do this. I will do this.
“Our wedding,” Ilsa corrected. “Truly, it will be a marriage of three.” A tremor of fear rolled from head to toe as she sanctified her intentions by speaking them aloud. Could she truly bring herself to commit the very act she feared most?
* * * * *
Ilsa did not appear for dinner, instead she took her meal in her room after a bath in which Mary washed her hair. She sat on the floor in front of the hearth and brushed it dry herself. Tonight she’d donned the white silk shift again. Bradford had liked it on her, and somehow she knew Frederick would too. Considering what she was embarking upon, it seemed appropriate to wear the alluring gown that literally served up her breasts like two frosting-covered cakes.
She’d forgotten to ask Frederick if either of them were allowed to touch her. His proposal had seemed so straightforward earlier, now her mind teemed with questions. Maybe it was the glass of wine she’d finished with the slice of chocolate cake for dessert that had mellowed her, but Ilsa felt no fear. Frederick’s rules were precisely to keep her from feeling endangered, and she knew there would be nothing done tonight that she couldn’t handle. In an odd way, it was the sweetest gift she’d ever received.
Murmurs rose from the other room. Frederick and Bradford had retired. The relaxed banter she heard, nothing but mumbles really but it was the tone she could detect, were the same as on previous nights when she’d lain awake listening to them before they retired for the evening.
Her heart picked up its pace. They were preparing for the test to come. My test.
A knock sounded on the adjoining door. She rose and entered the master suite.
Frederick was dressed in an exquisite, full attire of bedclothes and smoking jacket. Bradford wore his black silk robe, but was very obviously bare beneath. He smiled when he saw her.
“Frederick and I discussed an additional amendment to the rules of tonight’s test.”
Saving Lady Ilsa Page 9