Page 28 of An Earl, His Valet, & Their Wife

Not long after, Jon and Viola bounded into the room. Viola was a plump, pretty redhead in a knee-length brocade robe, her husband a blond man-mountain wearing gray breeches, linen shirt, and an embroidered leather collar about his neck. Both went straight to Lennox for a lingering kiss before curling up together on a chaise.

They looked…happy. Glowing, damn it.

“Hunter!” said Jon, his smile friendly. “It’s been an age. How are you?”

“Well enough. Ye all look so content it’s curdling my gut.”

Viola beamed. “Life is quite excellent. Do forgive the mess, though, if I attempt to tidy in here, Lennox hisses.”

“Tidiness is vastly overrated, minx,” grumbled Lennox. “My own system of organized chaos works perfectly well. Speaking of chaos…I heard no mutiny earlier, so presuming the Brigands got their tea on time?”

“Yes,” said Jon, smiling ruefully at Gerard.

He chuckled. The Brigands were Viola’s four elderly and downright naughty friends from her time managing a boarding house, and if they didn’t get tea at precisely eleven o’clock…Bedlam. “Disaster averted.”

Viola shuddered. “Thank God. But what provoked you to leave Grosvenor Square for these wild lands, Gerard?”

Lennox cleared his throat. “He’s come for advice, sweetheart. A rather unique conundrum.”

“Oh?” said Jon curiously. “Do tell.”

Gerard took a deep breath. Few households would understand this particular issue, but if anyone could offer comfort or guidance, it would be these three. “Last week, my earl entered into a marriage o’ convenience with Lady Katherine Kirk tae sire an heir. The wedding night went poorly, so his lordship requested my guidance the second time, with the countess’s consent. It was…verra successful. She’s a braw lassie. But…”

“Only two reasons for that but,” said Viola shrewdly. “Either jealousy is eating you alive or you also want your lover’s wife.”

Gerard scowled in frustration. “I feared the former, but it’s the bloody latter. I cannae stop thinking about Katie. Dreaming o’ her. This morning…bloody hell. I bought her a parcel o’ books. Just the ones she likes. Katie hugged me and I got hard and she rubbed against me…I was so damned close tae doing more. She is broadminded, I ken that much. But Katie’s a lady. How would an earl, a valet, and a countess even work in the cage of Sassenach society? On the other hand, I cannae just watch. Just instruct. And I’ve nae fucking idea how tae start that conversation.”

“Christ. There’s no tangle like one with a Scot in the middle,” drawled Lennox, his eyes glinting.

“Says the lad from the land o’ Tudors.”

Viola burst out laughing. “Play nicely, boys.”

Gerard sat up straighter. “How do ye play nicely as a trio? Did ye ken it would work?”

All three studied him, their merriment easing into grave thoughtfulness.

“It’s certainly a leap of faith,” said Jon, absently stroking his collar. “I was in love with Lennox but did precisely nothing about it until we went to St. Albans for that writing retreat. Viola was the spark that lit the flame. Only then did I gain the courage to state my true desires.”

Lennox nodded. “You cannot keep secrets. Or hide your needs. Any difficulties that couples face are magnified in a trio. But the rewards…Christ. The fight is worth it. Even being scandal sheet fodder.”

“We’re still shunned by the sticklers,” said Viola airily. “I know some might find that unbearable. But we have each other, our friends, and the theater and that is so much better. I have never regretted my decision to love Lennox and Jon. You know, if her ladyship is as broadminded as you say—she did consent to your presence in the marital bedchamber and initiated the rubbing—then talk to her. Talk to them both.”

“Exactly,” added Lennox. “A man like you never sits in the audience when he could be on stage. Some people are born to lead, so fucking lead, Gerard.”

Hell. When stated like that, it sounded so easy. But even after five years mastering his earl, there was still a part of him that felt inadequate. An insatiable desperation to belong somewhere. Baring his soul to Michael and Katie was an exceedingly risky thing. For all of them. Michael wasn’t a flamboyant playwright who could thumb his nose at the ton; he resided at the heart of it and had vast responsibilities. A seat in the House of Lords, servants and tenants, now a wife. And if Michael fell in love with Katie—entirely possible, the woman was a goddess—where would that leave Gerard? Not everyone had the capacity or desire to love more than one person.

Fuck.

Gerard rubbed his jaw. “You’ve given me much tae ponder.”

“I can almost see your head thumping,” said Jon, grimacing sympathetically. “Is there any way we could help?”

“Perhaps shackle the Whitmores in a dungeon or set them adrift on a lake until they see the light?” said Lennox, his face brightening as he snatched up a quill and scribbled a note on the paper in front of him.

Gerard rolled his eyes. Writers. An entirely different breed of human.

“Really, Lennox,” said Viola, leaning over to slap her lover’s knee. “I’m sure there is a slightly less…colorful solution. What if we visited them?”