I swear I saw red in that moment because I knew they could. The passion that drove me wild when they touched me was redirected into rage. I stood, spun about and lunged for him. Before I could hit him, he grabbed one wrist, then the other.
“How dare you!” I tried to kick him in the shins, but my bare foot didn’t do much damage and I only hurt myself. Tears stung the back of my eyelids, but I refused to allow them to fall.
His green eyes were close but held no anger. While his hold was firm, it wasn’t tight. I was the one out of control, but he held me still with a gentle touch and forced me to listen.
“If I wanted a quick fuck, I could have gone to the saloon and bedded an actual whore. I didn’t have to get married. I wanted you and now you are mine. You belong to us and we won’t give you up. Are you listening to me, wife?”
His words didn’t make me any less angry, but they were getting under my skin, making me feel even more confused about what was going on here. Why me? Why had they done this? “I don’t understand. Why? I was promised to another.”
“I wanted you the first moment you stepped off that stage,” Ford said.
“I did, too.” Logan added from beside us. I hadn’t heard his approach. I was so close to Ford that I couldn’t see anything but my husband’s face as he looked down at me, patience in his voice.
“We married you because we knew you were the one with whom we wanted to spend the rest of our lives. We would not dishonor you by stealing your virtue. And we could not allow you to marry Jenkins.” He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on my forehead as I struggled to hold on to my anger. “Your virginity was a precious gift you shared with us. Your husbands. Our connection is strong. The pleasure we found in each other, incredible. How is that not perfect and right?”
Was he purposely being daft? “You stole me from Mr. Jenkins. Perhaps he was the perfect man for me. Perhaps I would have had a connection with him. He is one man. One husband, as is right. And I gave him my word.”
Ford lowered my hands to my sides, which pulled me in even closer to his hard chest. I had to tilt my chin up to look at him. His eyes roved over my face, then met my gaze.
“Do you know why we married you?”
“You just told me!” I shouted. “Lust at first sight. You simply had to have me. You’re like a pirate, taking whatever you want.”
Logan circled around, behind Ford, and stopped to stand beside us. “We understand you’re upset, sweetheart, but you do not have to be insolent.”
I bit my lip, but made it clear I was not happy by narrowing my gaze. His response was to laugh. How he could find humor in this situation was beyond me. Ah yes, Logan wasn’t legally married to me and he’d had his cock sucked. He was the only one free to walk away from this… predicament. But he didn’t move away; instead he moved in closer, until they both towered over me, making me feel small and helpless—and aroused. I stared at Logan’s lips as he began to speak.
“Mr. Samuel Jenkins is approximately sixty years old. He is missing a front tooth right here.” Logan pointed into his mouth. “He favors chewing tobacco and bathes about once a month.”
I shook my head, unable to process more lies. “No, he just turned forty in January.”
Ford shook his head. “His two sons are in their twenties and are very eager to make your acquaintance. They planned to share you between them once the old man was finished with you. They bragged about it last night at the saloon.” While his fingers tightened on my wrists, it wasn’t because he was trying to hurt me, but because of ire, and it wasn’t directed at me.
This couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t. “No. He wrote that his boys are small, still in primary school.”
“Did he also tell you that the older boy, Tad, is nearing thirty, a half head taller than I, and eager to fill you with his seed?” Logan asked. “Or that his younger son, Harry, has only ever fucked whores, but he and his brother have a reputation for treating a woman so rough that the prostitutes in town refuse to service them?”
I thought back to the boring, if somewhat vague last letter I’d received. “Well, no. He said his two sons would need my—attention.” I sucked in a breath and tried not to toss the contents of my stomach onto the hard ground. “Oh, my God.”
Logan ran his big, strong hand up and down my back as if that would help soften this blow. Did I dare believe them?
Looking up into Ford’s too serious gaze, I realized that I did. I believed every word. “Samuel Jenkins was planning to marry you, Lizzie. That was the truth. He was also planning on sharing you with his fully grown sons.”
I tugged at Ford’s hold and he released me, but I didn’t go anywhere.
“What was it that he said?” Ford asked Logan. “Oh, yes. He said that any child would be a Jenkins, no matter whose seed took root.”
I gasped, more than confident I understood exactly what that meant, especially now, with Ford’s seed sliding down my inner thighs. How could this be true? Would a man be so cruel as to lie about everything and send for a woman—a woman who was desperate to escape her current life—only to dishonor and abuse her in such a way? It was abhorrent.
I glanced between Logan and Ford, one then the other, then back. They looked at me steadily, waiting. They weren’t lying. I could tell that every word of it was the truth. Bile rose in my throat at how close I had been to living trapped in a new kind of hell. Perhaps remaining at home and marrying my uncle’s choice, the stodgy and formal Mr. Partridge, would have been better. He stunk of tobacco and lamp oil, and had grown children, but I doubted he’d planned to give me to them to fuck.
“What about you?” I stuck my pointing finger in the center of Ford’s broad chest. I was angry and hurting, and hating all men in general at the moment. “You married me and shared me with him.”
“I did,” Ford responded quickly. He wasn’t denying it? “All of the men you met in Hayes are from the same military regiment. We were stationed in Mohamir. Have you heard of the country?”
I nodded, for I read every newspaper I could get my hands on, always had. Much to my uncle’s discontent.
“Their custom is designed to protect and treasure their women. Each woman deserves more than just one man to marry and care for her. To cherish her.”
I felt the sincerity of his words and my hand drifted over my racing heart. The wild swing of emotions over the last couple of hours was taking its toll, and the abused organ actually ached as if I had a fist inside my chest squeezing the wounded heart of me.
Logan’s rough voice took over the telling of their story. “Mohamir is a wild place, the country unsettled and remote. Their customs ensure the woman’s safety and well-being. Should one husband die, his widow will not be alone or unprotected. Neither will her children.” Logan’s voice gentled on those words and I imagined him with a bouncing, laughing baby on his knee, and his strong, protective arms holding a wee babe to his chest, rocking a little one to sleep at night. “We spent many years fighting, watching our friends die. We faced death many times ourselves and we know, too well, how short life truly is. We adopted their custom, Lizzie, so any woman we claimed would be well protected, her safety and well being placed above our own. We have simply been waiting for the right woman to claim.”
“You,” Ford said.
Something they said had taken a moment to sink in and my new understanding startled me. “The others, Daniel and Evan, and the other men, they follow this custom as well?”
“Yes,” Ford offered.
“My sisters are with them!” What were the men going to do to them? Seduce my sisters, as Ford and Logan had seduced me?
“Your sisters are safe. You heard the men. They will protect them with their lives,” Logan insisted. “And they will not touch your sisters. They are not rapists, Lizzie. They won’t touch an innocent, not without the vows of marriage and a woman’s consent. They are honorable men. I give you my word.”
My panic receded to simmering worry for my sisters as Logan’s
words settled in my heart. Perhaps my mind had been addled by the pleasure I experienced at his hands, but I believed him.
“We kept you from marrying Mr. Jenkins to protect you.” Ford lifted my chin with his fingers, forced me to look at him. “But I wanted to fuck you, Lizzie. We wanted you hot and naked between us. We married you out of honor, but we lied solely because we could not risk that your own honor would have forced you to marry Mr. Jenkins. I have no doubt, given the fire I’ve seen the last few hours, that our suspicions were correct, and you would have confronted him about his intentions. Either way, we could not allow his evil to touch you. As your men—your husbands—your safety comes first, even if you aren’t happy with our actions. We will do what’s best for you.”
“We would do it again, Lizzie,” Logan added. “You belong to us now, and we will protect you with our lives.”
I blinked back tears—damn them!—as I considered their words. “Was Jenkins really that bad?”
From the tightness in their jaws and the way Logan clenched his fists, I had my answer.
I wasn’t content, was not ready to absolve them of what they’d done. But the rage, the shame that nearly choked me had weakened from a raging flood to a slow trickle. I’d think on their words, consider all they had said. Even if I went back to Hayes and confronted Mr. Jenkins, I was still married to Ford.
I was his for—oh, my God. I wasn’t married to Ford. I was married, by proxy, to Mr. Jenkins. I had the paper in my bag to prove it. The man at the newspaper had signed it for me to take, ensuring that Mr. Jenkins could not return me.
“What is it, sweetheart? You’ve gone pale.”
The men were too perceptive for their own good. These men had gone to great lengths to save me from marrying Mr. Jenkins and all their work was for nothing. They’d fucked me when I belonged to another. I tried not to laugh at the sick humor. I was truly tainted. I’d lain with them and I wasn’t married to them. Yes, I’d shared my body with them when I believed Ford to be my husband. Ford and Logan had taken my innocence while believing I was Ford’s legal wife. We had all been mistaken.
The truth was, I was Mrs. Samuel Jenkins. Legally, I had married the man before I ever set foot on that back-breaking, bone-rattling stagecoach.
What was I going to do? I couldn’t go back to Mr. Jenkins. Not now, knowing what I did about him and his sons. I couldn’t run away. The money I had wouldn’t last long, and even if I could escape, if I left these men I might never see my sisters again. I was well and truly trapped, doomed no matter what choice I made. Just like that damn mouse in the hawk’s killing grip.
God, what were Ford and Logan going to say when they discovered the truth?
A shiver sped up and down my spine and I closed my eyes against the cold chill racing over my skin.
First, I had to reunite with my sisters. After that, I’d figure out what to do about my marital status. My predicament was utterly absurd. Never had I heard tale of a woman who had not just one, but three men who could claim to be her husband. If my pious uncle thought me reckless and wanton before, he’d most likely die of apoplexy if he could see me now. One man’s seed coating my thighs, another’s down my throat, and a third man actually my legal husband.
Logan and Ford both watched me with concern and I shook my head, hiding my thoughts behind a heavy yawn. I had no idea what to do. I needed time.
“Nothing. I think I’m just tired,” I replied, trying not to let my panic show. Based on what they said, I didn’t want to be Mrs. Jenkins. But I wasn’t sure I had much choice. I blinked against the grit in my eyes, leftover from the trail, and what felt like a thousand tears.
Neither man touched me as they walked with me back to the blanket. They tucked me beneath a second blanket and made sure I was comfortable. “Where are we going tomorrow?” I asked.
Ford stroked my hair out of my face as I closed my eyes. “Bridgewater. Tomorrow we go to Bridgewater and start our lives together.”
Together, but with a tainted, already married woman.
Chapter Nine
Ford
I expected Lizzie to be subdued, to work through the truth of the situation and come to terms with her new life. I could only imagine how overwhelmed she felt, coming off the stage and then marrying within a matter of hours. Only later, she discovered she’d been tricked—even if it was in her best interest—into marrying someone else, only to find out that her new husband shared her body and claim with his closest friend.
I’d always assumed we’d court our bride slowly, give her time to adjust to the notion of two husbands, to fall in love with us and want to be with us as desperately as we wanted to be with her.
Circumstances ensured that was not the case. Bloody fucking hell. The only way to make this fiasco any worse is if Jenkins came after us. I didn’t expect that to happen, for I had signed my real name in the church’s ledger. Jenkins would have no reason to link us to his bride, as the group I travelled with had only been in town for a couple of days to rest and purchase supplies. We were strangers, just passing through. No one knew us or where we were headed. Our final destination, Bridgewater Ranch, was not well known or nearby. And the three women had been separated from the group. Even if they tracked the wagon, they wouldn’t find Lizzie or her sisters.
But then, according to Lizzie’s confession in the hotel hallway, Jenkins wasn’t expecting three women, just one. And that one special woman was now with us.
No, with both Hayes and Samuel Jenkins behind us, Logan and I just needed to be patient and let Lizzie accustom herself to it all. To us. I had to hope that having her meet the other Bridgewater brides would help.
Once Lizzie had fallen asleep, Logan and I agreed we’d push through to Bridgewater instead of spending a second night on the trail. The sooner we were settled, the better it would be for all of us.
We kept watch, splitting the long hours, one of us holding Lizzie safely in our arms as the other stood guard. Lizzie woke with the dawn and was eager to be reunited with her sisters. We rode hard all day and arrived at Bridgewater’s stable just in time for the evening meal.
On our approach, two men came out of the large building. We knew the ranch was well established; money was not a concern with these men. Kane was a nobleman, the same as I. Funds weren’t unlimited, but damn close. Out here in the territory, so was our freedom to live as we saw fit.
I hadn’t seen Whitmore Kane since we were in Mohamir, three years ago. It had been an unpleasant time, for our commander had killed a Mohamiran family and framed Kane’s best friend, Ian, for the crime. He, along with Kane and several others, fled Mohamir directly for America. The remainder of the regiment, myself and Logan included, finished our service but chose not to re-enlist. Despite the fact that Ian had vanished, he was found guilty and sentenced to hang for his alleged crimes. Logan and I knew the truth and chose not just to leave our dishonest commander, but also the government that failed to fully investigate his crimes. Kane’s invitation to join him in the Montana Territory was simply too tempting to refuse.
Kane grinned at our arrival and hugged us fiercely. “Reinforcements have arrived. I was worried that we’d lose the advantage with all the Americans homesteading around here. Good to have some fine English blood around.”
Kane was tall and dark, very similar in appearance to me, but I was somewhat rough around the edges, he more refined. Despite being born a marquess, I gave the appearance of a rake or the untamed pirate Lizzie had named me.
“It is good to finally be here.” I turned as a second man approached. He was large and dark-haired, but I did not know him.
I swung my leg down and dismounted my horse to stand in front of Logan as he helped Lizzie off his horse to stand on wobbly legs. I took her hand and tried to pull her to me so I could introduce our bride, but she tugged back hard as Kane greeted his friend.
Thinking perhaps Lizzie was feeling a bit shy, I turned to coax her forward. It was not shyness I saw in her eyes, but shock, followed by a
dark flush that would have been intriguing had she reacted that way to anything but a virile, available male. I tugged on her hand once more, but she would not move, simply stood in place, her feet firmly planted as she stared at Kane’s friend with wide eyes.
What the hell?
I glanced at Logan, who shrugged. He had no idea how to explain Lizzie’s odd reaction either.
Giving up for the moment, I turned back as Kane spoke. “Ford and Logan, this is Xander.”
The large man grinned and tipped his hat in our direction. “Pleased to meet you both.”
Lizzie gasped at the sound of his deep voice and I turned to inspect her. Her breathing was rapid and her cheeks a pink I had only seen once before, when we made love to her. Had we kept her too long in the sun? Had hours of hard riding made her delirious? Was she taking ill? “Lizzie, are you all right?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m sorry.” She stepped forward when I gently pulled her toward me and Logan took up a protective stance on her opposite side. She was between us, exactly where she should be.
With Lizzie sorted, I turned back to Xander. “Nice to meet you as well. That’s not a British accent.”
Kane chuckled. “While he’s American through and through, he’s a Bridgewater man. He and Tyler, who you’ll meet at the house, are married to Emily.”
We shook hands and the man seemed affable enough. He, too, was dark and had a beard, but he was much stockier, much more solid than either Logan or I. Perhaps his size is what frightened our bride. I had no other explanation for her behavior.
“May we introduce our new bride, Elizabeth,” Logan said. When he saw the way she was staring at Xander, he lifted his hand to the nape of her neck with a possessiveness I, too, felt. The confusion I saw in his gaze most likely matched my own.
Giving her hand a quick squeeze, I broke her from her reverie. She greeted both men, smiling at Kane but blushing hotly as she looked at Xander.
Their Conquered Bride Page 7