And what about the servants?
How would they hide this from the servants? They were bound to notice, to see Liam enter their rooms. Or install that secret passage. She’d need to come up with a story, a very good story, to explain that away. Her imagination might be tested on such a story or need to a passage. Then again, very often she’d noticed a good wage often kept lips closed.
Sarina thought about it for long moments; her reasoning and planning might work. She could manage the household with strict rules for the servants. Yes, with careful supervision of the household staff, it could be done.
She cupped her chin in her hand and looked blankly out of the window. She’d always been the practical one, the one to see reason where others hadn’t. Her practicality was one reason, a very strong one: she had refused to choose between the two men she loved. She hadn’t been able to, didn’t wish to ruin the friendship they so obviously valued, and honestly didn’t know if she could have chosen only one man. Either Prescott or Liam. Not both.
Now she had them. Both her loves, both her lovers. And she treasured them.
Warmth engulfed her and she closed her eyes. Sensuous warmth from their touch, their love. She had no doubts as to how they felt about her. Did she doubt what she felt for them?
Sarina gave it serious thought, but no. Despite the situation they found themselves in, she didn’t doubt she loved both men and all her effort was indeed worth it.
Chapter Twelve
Liam stood and shook hands with the other man. Mr. Davidson smiled jovially in return, and Liam almost felt like whistling. Which he wouldn’t do. Not here in the office, at least. Walking around the desk, he led the merchant out of the office and to the main door with promises to oversee the loading of Davidson’s shipment in six weeks’ time.
It’d taken him and Prescott years to build their shipping business, but finally it looked as if all their work paid off with larger shipments. The larger the single shipment, the less time they wasted waiting to fill the cargo hold and the faster their ships could set sail.
He calculated it’d take another year before they could add to their modest fleet, but the wait would be well worth it. He knew of several captains from the war who needed work. Or who would love the chance to escape once more to the sea.
And soon, Sarina would be married to them.
Liam frowned as he returned to his office. Prescott was down on the docks making sure all the paperwork was in order, some miscommunication or other. Walking to the window, he looked down at the mass of people below. Even with the window shut tight against the winter’s cold, Liam felt the chill.
He looked along the wharf, but didn’t see his friend. Shrugging, he returned to his desk but didn’t sit behind it. Instead he saw Sarina there, how she looked rising atop him only hours ago when she’d surprised them with a visit.
Passionate and beautiful and immodest as she took them both into her body without a second thought. It hadn’t mattered to her that their secretary had only stepped out for luncheon or that Sarina faced the windows opposite his desk. Sarina’s passion had been a stunning sight. He wanted to see her like that—passionate, willing, and oh so magnificent—every day.
But she’d only marry one of them, and it’d be Prescott. That wasn’t what bothered Liam. He knew Sarina loved him, and he and Prescott had spent two years realizing they both loved Sarina and could share her without jealousy.
Oh, they’d shared women during the war, but that hardly mattered now. That had been in the heat of the moment, a quick, albeit lusty, respite from battle.
And it had been long before either had ever met Sarina Hunt.
No, this was to be for the rest of their lives. They needed to be cautious now, not reckless with their desire as they’d been this afternoon. Careful, yes, and they needed to make plans. He and Prescott were normally very good at making plans. Today hadn’t been planned, and while pleasurable, extremely pleasurable, it was also dangerous.
Sarina, too, was good at planning. Between the three of them, they should be able to devise something workable. Two of the many things he loved about her—her calmness and levelheadedness. She had a head for organization and planning, much like he and Prescott. Liam had absolutely no reservations about placing her in charge of their business if they needed to.
He loved the confidence she had in herself and the confidence he had in her. That and the fact she was unafraid. Not that it’d ever come up in conversation, but Liam doubted many other women would be so self-assured, so certain about making love to two men at once. At having them in her bed as more than a dalliance but as a relationship. And, more importantly, at having both he and Prescott so equally in her heart.
Prescott walked in, all smiles. Liam was about to ask what had him so excited, but his friend’s eyes drifted to the desk. No, Prescott wasn’t thrilled over their deal with Mr. Davidson or the apparently sorted miscommunication below. He, too, remembered their afternoon with Sarina.
Sitting in the chair opposite the desk, Prescott arranged his coat around him and made himself comfortable.
“I think married life will agree with us,” Prescott said with a sly grin.
Liam returned his grin. Then, because they had been busy today, he crossed the room and closed the door. They didn’t need eavesdropping secretaries.
“Once we are married,” he said, not bothering to differentiate between Prescott marrying Sarina legally and the fact Liam knew they’d all be together, marriage license or not. “We must push past the obstacles in our path, first.”
Prescott nodded, but didn’t look too worried. But then he straightened and ran a hand down his face. “I’m not worried about her cousins,” he admitted.
“I think you should be,” Liam shot back. “If anyone can convince her to marry Hawksmoor and not us, it will be them. Them and all their gossiping friends about town.”
His friend looked at him for a moment, serious for the first time since he’d entered. Prescott shook his head. “No. I don’t think Sarina will acquiesce to their demands. She’s her own woman and she’s chosen us. Even,” he added as he stood, “if we have to run off. We will be married.”
With his hands clasped behind his back, Liam studied Prescott. He wanted Sarina as much as Prescott, and was willing to do anything to make her theirs. But Sarina cared for her reputation, for their reputations, and wouldn’t take even a hint of scandal to any of their names lightly.
“I think,” Liam said, realistic as always and wondering where Prescott’s normal reason had fled, “we need to plan for every contingency. Not merely for Sarina’s desire to run off with us.”
Prescott looked as if he wanted to argue the point, which surprised Liam. Prescott usually wasn’t one to ignore facts staring him directly in the face. Nor was he normally a man to let things take their course. They’d survived the Portuguese, the French, and setting up a shipping business together because of their mutual realism.
Hell, they’d come to the conclusion that the only way the three of them, he, Prescott, and Sarina, would be happy was to engage in a ménage of trois.
That was hardly the move of a man used to rushing into things.
Liam narrowed his eyes at his closest friend, but Prescott took a deep breath and nodded. “What do you suggest?” Prescott asked, practically.
“I think we need to proceed with our plans to find a solution to Hawksmoor’s problems,” Liam said with a sigh.
He’d rather think of ways to make Sarina scream. Or to slip out for a meeting with her so the three of them could make love once more. Anything having to do with Sarina, their mutual pleasure, and their future. Though, Liam supposed, finding a solution to Hawskmoor’s monetary problem did have quite a lot to do with their future.
As in having one with Sarina at all.
“I agree.” Prescott shook his head with a slight laugh at odds with his initial words. “But wealthy, eligible women with enough capital to support an estate of that size are hardly falling of
f our ships. Most of them—rather most of the ones we know—are already spoken for in some manner or other.”
Walking around his desk, Liam didn’t sit but continued on. He bypassed the window, his preferred locale for thinking, and continued walking. “I believe,” Liam said slowly, “I have someone in mind.”
He stopped in front of Prescott, who hadn’t moved from before the chair. “Miss Ainsworth.”
Prescott frowned. “I thought she’d run off with Marwick.” He laughed and shrugged. “Wasn’t she completely infatuated with the lout?”
Liam gave his friend a slow smile. While he did feel sorry for Miss Ainsworth, she’d been used by what all accounts claimed was a disreputable gambler; this solved all their problems. Her reputation would be restored; Hawksmoor’s own reputation, only slightly tarnished by his debts, would remain impeccable. And Sarina’s problem would vanish and he and Prescott could keep their lover—their love.
Grinning, he almost chuckled at that—their love indeed. He’d always been more romantic than Prescott. His friend tended to be more possessive of things, though Liam knew Prescott would share. If only with him. They’d found this unique balance and they’d make it work.
“He’s gone.” Liam waved a hand to indicate the ships outside. As far as he’d been able to gather, Marwick had fled on the first available ship away from discovery. “I’m uncertain of the details; all I know for sure is that they’re no longer involved.”
Prescott’s brown eyes sharpened. “Curious. Very curious, seeing as Miss Ainsworth had been quite taken with Marwick.” Then he shrugged and shared Liam’s grin. “Still, I supposed she may have finally seen him for what he truly is: a worthless bastard with no redeeming qualities.”
“Yes,” Liam agreed, slightly troubled he felt this much excitement over another’s troubles. Still, he did have a solution for all of them. “But it does leave Miss Ainsworth brokenhearted. I’ve made several inquiries and have discovered she’s been reclusive of late.”
“I see.” Prescott nodded. “However, Hawksmoor may not want Miss Ainsworth after tongues wagged over her and Marwick.”
Liam offered a quick shrug. “Hawksmoor, despite his own reputation, will need to conform if he wishes to retain his pride and salvage his estates.”
Prescott looked interested and took a moment to think over Liam’s words. Finally he nodded. “You think we can convince Miss Ainsworth of Hawksmoor’s worth?”
Liam smiled, confident in his plan. “I believe the title of countess, and salvaging her reputation, will be enough to convince her.”
Prescott returned Liam’s knowing grin. “We can put the offer to her and see if she’s interested. And with luck,” his friend added with another smile that spoke more of their afternoon with Sarina than Miss Ainsworth’s situation, “everyone will be happy.”
He wasn’t certain how happy either Hawksmoor or Miss Ainsworth would truly be, doubtful as happy as Sarina was with their arrangement, but Liam wasn’t a matchmaker. Despite this interesting, if necessary, foray into the field, he shuddered at the thought and returned his attention to the next matter.
Their lives.
“We need to discuss our own living arrangements,” Liam pointed out.
“I have no desire to live in Sarina’s townhouse with her cousins and their families,” Prescott snapped. He sighed and ran his hand over his face again. “But, I have given this some thought. We sell our current lodgings and purchase a larger townhouse for the three of us.”
Liam agreed. He didn’t mind not being the one formally married to Sarina, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to live with her. “We’ll also need to think of servants; I doubt there’s a reference for household staff accustomed to this sort of arrangement, but I could be mistaken. Also,” he gave a little laugh, though it was hardly a humorous matter, “what we say to society about my continued residence with the two of you.”
Prescott laughed slightly at that and shook his head. “And what am I to do when one of Sarina’s friends insist on my help in securing your affections? Or”—and here he shuddered—“asks for my help in having you court her?”
Mortification caught him and he tried not to show it on his face. From Prescott’s look, however, Liam knew he’d failed. “Tell her my heart had been broken by a woman when we were in the army. She was Portuguese or Spanish, and I’m not yet recovered from my broken heart.”
Prescott’s laugh was heartier now, more genuine. “That’ll only make you more attractive to her!”
Liam shuddered. “Perhaps an accident during the war?” he ventured but really didn’t like that thought and cringed even as he spoke the words.
Prescott cringed in sympathy. Excuses, reasons, and stories as to why they all lived together were proving to be harder than Liam imagined. Not that he’d imagined this stage of their relationship, and really he should’ve.
It was one thing to plan on how to convince the woman they both loved to accept two men, two lovers. It was quite another to sort out the details of life.
“I’ll tell them the shipping business keeps me busy,” Liam said with a resigned sigh at the feeble excuse. Still, it was better than society learning the truth of the matter.
“We’ll say Sarina is saving you for someone special,” Prescott joked with a wink, and Liam had to laugh with his friend.
It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but for now it’d do.
Chapter Thirteen
Dressed in a lilac gown and black cloak, Sarina walked with Henrietta along the gardens. The weather had warmed slightly, even though it was only the end of February. Or maybe, Sarina thought as they continued down the path, cleared of dead leaves and other flower cuttings, it was simply that the sun was finally shining.
She’d been going mad these last three weeks since Kingsnorth and had wanted to escape the house these days. However, Henrietta had insisted she accompany Sarina. It hadn’t escaped her notice that one of her cousins always accompanied her whenever she ventured out of the house.
At first she’d panicked. Had believed they’d somehow discovered her assignation with Prescott and Liam in their offices. But neither cousin had mentioned it, and Sarina knew Lydia would never utter a word to the other women. Her lady’s maid was loyal to a fault.
Still, it made for a very long three weeks. In that time, the family had buried Georgiana and sorted her will, but Sarina had not seen either Liam or Prescott.
She missed them terribly, missed their smiles and laughs and how the three of them enjoyed each other. In more ways than one. Oh, she missed their bodies, their passion. Sarina wasn’t certain of the word for what she felt, but she was entirely frustrated.
In the previous weeks, despite the emotional toll of burying her aunt, the reading of the will, and fending off Maryanne and Henrietta’s utterly unveiled suggestions as to her upcoming nuptials, she’d been frustrated. Sarina had never truly touched herself, but with her newfound knowledge of her own sexual pleasure, she’d tried.
She’d been easily able to picture her lovers in her mind, feel their touch on her skin, their lips on hers. She easily remembered how they’d brought her to orgasm. But her fingers had paled next to their touch, and she’d left the experience even more frustrated than before.
Raising her face to the sun, Sarina let the weak light warm her cheeks. She hoped her move would also hide the blush she knew colored her cheeks at her memories. Beside her, Henrietta prattled on about the upcoming season, with her blatant hints about announcing her marriage to Oliver.
Sarina ignored her as best she could and continued to wonder what she’d done wrong. Though they’d only been together twice, then once with Prescott only, Sarina thought she knew what she liked, how she liked being touched. Apparently, she’d been mistaken.
What she needed was more time with Liam and Prescott. She needed to explore their bodies, discover her own sensations as well as what excited them.
What she needed to do was find a way to hide from her cousins lo
ng enough to find her men and end her frustration. Looking ahead as they rounded a bend in the path, Sarina realized that her frustration was not going to end today. Not with Oliver walking up the path to meet them.
Her head jerked to look at her cousin, only to find Henrietta looking at her with a not-so-innocent smile and a forced, and obviously fake, look in her eyes. Henrietta had clearly arranged this accidental meeting.
Sarina sighed, her mind already working to excuse herself, but then she realized this might be the perfect opportunity. Now all she needed was a decent enough conversation with Oliver so she could inform him their marriage was not going to happen.
“Lord Hawksmoor,” she greeted with a smile.
All her frustration over her current situation and annoyance with Henrietta was pushed to the background. She needed all her wits about her to keep up with Oliver. More so to say what needed to be said and not ruin a friendship with the man.
“How wonderful to run into you on such a delightful winter’s day.” She nodded to the cloudless sky, where the sun shone unencumbered by clouds. “Much warmer than we’ve seen in quite some time.”
Oliver bowed to both of them, his blue eyes sparkling with hidden mischief and humor. Sarina couldn’t help but smile in return. “A day,” he said with a glance around the empty gardens, “not to be passed up.” He offered his arm to Sarina. “Would the two of you care to walk the garden paths with me?”
Before Sarina could begin to formulate a reply, Henrietta chimed in. “Oh, I’m sure Sarina would love to, Lord Hawksmoor. But I’d rather stay here and enjoy the sun.” She gestured to a rather conveniently located bench and promptly sat on it, gazing innocently up at the sun as if Sarina and Oliver were nowhere near her.
Narrowing her eyes at her cousin, who ignored her, Sarina turned to Oliver and took his arm. She hated the reluctance in her gesture, hated she’d rather be almost anywhere but walking the gardens with a man she considered a friend. This is what her cousins had done to her, though Sarina supposed they weren’t entirely to blame.
Lady's Temptations: A Winter's Regency Menage Page 10