Bound with Passion
Page 23
Bathsheba’s eyes widened again, and she turned to enter her stall. The men had put in fresh hay and water, and the poor mare looked like she was ready to deliver the foal within minutes. Cyrus tried to get close to her again, and she kicked up one of her rear hooves and nearly got him in the jaw, whipping her head around and showing the stallion her teeth. Even the lord of all horses he surveyed appeared to be properly humbled by the poor mare’s obvious discomfort and ire. Bathsheba collapsed into her stall with a grateful exhale through her flared nostrils, her oversize body resting in the hay bed with her legs outstretched.
“Where is she?” Trevor’s unexpected voice whipped straight up Georgie’s spine; she shut her eyes briefly and let herself feel the thrill of it. He sounded stern, and his temper was being let loose on one of the poor stable boys.
“She’s just there, m’lord.” The boy pointed in her direction.
“Damn it, Georgie! I told you not to go into the stalls until I got here. It’s too dangerous.” Trevor tossed his hat to one of the grooms and pulled off his coat and tossed that as well. She felt his approach like fire licking at her palms. He’d been in London for six long days, and she and James had been missing him like mad. They’d made do with one another, of course, but none of them felt whole unless all three of them were together.
Trevor rolled up his sleeves as he strode across the remaining few yards that separated them. Without losing his pace, he kissed Georgie hard on the lips, then turned to look at Bathsheba. Having finished with his sleeves, shoving them up above his elbows, he fisted his hands on his hips and took stock of the situation. “She’s close.”
Georgie nodded, touching her lips lightly. God, how she loved this man—beyond reason, beyond anything. What a fool she’d been to put off their joy those first few months.
“Are you all right?” He had turned from Bathsheba to give Georgie a similar once-over. His eyes—those green-gold shards of his that saw everything about her, had always seen right through her—were taking her measure. A slow smile spread across his beautiful face. “You missed me,” he stated with a hint of masculine pride.
Yes, he saw that too.
Her fingertip was still tracing the edge of her lip, and she nodded slowly.
“Come here.” He pulled her into his arms, and when his lips touched hers, tender and full of promise, she felt her insides begin to settle back into place. “Where’s James?” he whispered against her lips, so the grooms couldn’t hear.
“On his way . . .” she murmured between more kisses, pressing the length of her body against his, loving the familiar strength and warmth that made her feel anchored and free all at once.
“Is everything all right?” James called down the length of the stable.
Trevor turned to see him, and Georgie felt it, that magical connection that all three of them shared. As James walked toward them, Trevor’s arm gripped tighter around Georgie’s waist, and she reached out for James with her free hand.
“We will take care of the mare and foal from here on out, gentleman,” Trevor said, dismissing the grooms. “Thank you for standing by until we arrived.”
The grooms shuffled off to their various quarters. James looked over his shoulder to make sure all of them were out of sight, then turned and dug his fingers into Trevor’s hair at the base of his skull and pulled his lips into a kiss.
Georgie let her cheek rest against Trevor’s heart and melted into the blissful feeling of James snaking his arm around her waist as well. When the three of them were together like this, in one another’s arms, Georgie knew peace at last.
There are notes upon notes upon notes to do with this little book! Early on, I envisioned Georgie as a sexually charged homage to the heroine in Judith McNaught’s Whitney, My Love. Whitney is what’s commonly known—in romance community lingo—as an Unlikable Heroine. For better or worse, I tend to adore Unlikable Heroines. They can be thorny or selfish or petulant or blind to their own best interests, but they’re also strivers, characters who are eager to be out in the world—they want to live! It turns out they are also very hard to write. Georgie was difficult in almost every conceivable way—her sexual preferences, her emotional hurdles, how others saw her, how she saw herself. Then, once I got all that internal stuff sorted (sort of), I had to sort out how she was going to fit—however uncomfortably for her—into a plausible historical context. Research commenced!
First off, it was necessary to find (at least one . . . please at least one) example of a woman who was able to wield Georgie’s financial independence in the face of existing coverture laws. Jackpot—thank you for existing, Harriot Mellon (1777–1837). Georgie’s ability to negotiate for her own financial freedom prior to her marriage (aka Regency Reimagined Prenup) was inspired by the scintillating actress who married Thomas Coutts, of Coutts Bank, in 1815. Upon his death in 1822, he left her 750,000 GB pounds, equivalent to 70 million US dollars today. In 1827, Mellon then married the Duke of St. Albans (who happened to be twenty-three years younger than she was—*cough*—go Harriot!), and she was able to put her Coutts inheritance into a trust over which she retained complete authority.
I also wanted to weave in a few nods to another favorite Old Skool romance, Bertrice Small’s Skye O’Malley—hence the midnight-at-the-oasis sheikh element. Again, history provided some precedents with women like Lady Mary Wortley Montagu and Lady Hester Stanhope, who spent much of their lives traveling in and writing about the Middle East.
As always, I spent many happy hours with my great, dear friend, the Oxford English Dictionary, getting swept away by countless #oldwords searches. Yes, come was used as a verb as far back as 1650 to indicate orgasm; rogering has been around since 1788; tup since 1549; waffle meant “waver” starting in 1803; and slewed denoted drunk as of 1801.
All of that said, none of this is real! I know, shocking. This is first and foremost a wild tale that’s intended to divert and amuse and titillate and entertain. So, while I loved researching and weaving in some wonderful historical elements, I mostly hope you simply enjoyed the characters and their story. Thank you for reading!
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Regency Reimagined
Bound to Be a Bride
Bound to Be a Groom
Bound with Love
Bound with Honor
Contemporary
A Royal Pain
If the Shoe Fits
In Love Again
R is for Rebel
Roulette
Historical
The Wallflowers
Megan Mulry writes sexy, stylish, romantic fiction. Her first book, A Royal Pain, was an NPR Best Book of 2012 and USA Today bestseller. Before discovering her passion for
romance novels, she worked in magazine publishing and finance. After many years in New York, Boston, London, and Chicago, she now lives with her family in Florida.
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