Norrington Abbey

Classics Rekindled 6

Norrington Abbey Catherine Morris leads a dull life as a companion to a wealthy young woman. To escape, she reads gothic novels. She dreams about two mysterious men loving her, and when she meets Henry Tilman and John Thorne, her heart recognizes them. John and Henry agree they’ll each court Catherine and let her choose. Henry invites her to the Tilman’s ancient family home, Norrington Abbey, and John comes along. At Norrington Abbey, Catherine discovers Henry’s father’s secret chamber filled with whips and cuffs and sees him and Henry’s brother sharing a maid. Can she have her two men at once? John and Henry gladly share their passion with her. When Henry’s father learns she’s poor, he orders her to leave. Will Catherine lose the loves she’s only just discovered? Or will John and Henry fight to give her all the intrigue and passion she desires for the rest of her life? Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre Length: 27,771 words

NORRINGTON ABBEY Classics Rekindled 6

Josie Dennis

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

NORRINGTON ABBEY Copyright © 2012 by Josie Dennis E-book ISBN: 1-61926-288-6 First E-book Publication: February 2012 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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NORRINGTON ABBEY Classics Rekindled 6 JOSIE DENNIS Copyright © 2012

Chapter 1 England, 1814 Rattling chains echoed in the darkened corridor, long shadows reaching fingers toward Catherine Morris’s bare feet as she hurried over the icy-cold floor of uneven stones. Sweat filmed her body as she ran toward the deep, rasping voice chanting her name. She should run in the other direction. She should gather her tattered nightdress around her body and hurry back to the safety of her chamber. Her heart beat out a protest. She could not. The dark-haired man stood in the hallway, a burning torch embedded in the stone wall above him. His wicked smile glinted in the flickering light. She could almost grasp his countenance but recognition eluded her. Nevertheless, her center clenched as her body came to life. “Catherine,” he said, grabbing her arms and pulling her tight against him. Every blessed inch of his rock-hard body scorched her through the thin lawn of her nightdress. “Mmm, Catherine.” Her head fell back, and he scraped the tip of his tongue over her throat, causing her to whimper. His hands gripped her bottom, kneading her buttocks and inching her nightdress up her trembling

legs. Suddenly another pair of hands grasped her breasts from behind. Her nipples puckered and she gasped. “Ah, Catherine,” this other man whispered in her ear. “Do you want us?” She thought she knew this man as well, the deep timbre of his voice and the muscled chest flush against her back. His fingers teased her nipples, drawing her tight as the dark-haired man fingered her woman’s flesh. Her…pussy. The word seemed naughty but so fitting. As he began to pet her, she purred with hungry delight. “Yes,” she sighed. The dark-haired man’s fingers delved inside her pussy as he nuzzled her neck. The man behind her dipped his tongue in her ear, flicking it in and out to match the rhythm the first man began within her swollen core. Pressure was building, her body seemingly not her own as the two men overcame her senses. She reached for something tantalizingly out of reach, climbing toward some unknown peak of pleasure that cried out for satisfaction. Their mouths, their fingers, their bodies, combined to drive her mad. She was so close. Her breath came fast, her pussy weeping for completion. Sparks lit behind her eyelids and she shuddered. “Yes!” She came awake with a start, shivering beneath the twisted linens. Her heart pounded, her pussy clenched, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. Blast, she was in her room in the pretty house the Thornes let in Bath for the summer. Her breath rasped in her throat as she willed her mind to the present. “Oh, but it felt so real,” she whispered in the dark. Who were those two men in her dream? Surely she’d been reading too many novels to create such a detailed fantasy. Isabella, the young woman Catherine played companion to, chided her endlessly about those gothic stories she found so captivating. Well, Isabella could afford to tease. Though they were both twenty-one years old, Isabella’s real life far outshone anything Catherine could hope to have

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in her own. Catherine would most likely only find passion within the pages of those novels. Impoverished and dependent, Catherine was grateful for this position and growing fond of Isabella. She accompanied her to parties and balls and socializing at the pump houses. Several men asked after her, as Isabella told her repeatedly, but any such inquiries ceased once the men heard the details of her situation. No, until Isabella secured a husband Catherine could enjoy living on the fringe of polite society. After that happy occasion when the flighty girl finally settled on a suitor? That was decidedly less clear for Catherine. At least in her books she could page ahead and see how it all came out. She rose and splashed her face with the water in the basin set on the washstand. As she patted herself dry, she tried to grab on to the shrouded images from her dream. Had she met the men at one of the occasions here in Bath? They seemed urbane and gentlemanly, at least as gentlemanly as men could be while fondling her so intimately. Oh, she still trembled with the promises of pleasure they’d made in the dark. If she’d worn drawers to bed they’d be drenched from the juices they’d roused! Her cheeks grew hot again and she climbed back into her bed to await the coming day. She and Isabella would do the rounds today, the pump house and tearooms. Catherine smiled in the dark. Perhaps she would find her mystery men there among the fashionable. Then perhaps when they next met in that darkened corridor of her mind she’d be able to put handsome faces to those gifted hands. **** “You cannot be serious, Frederick,” Henry Tilman scoffed. “Dead serious, Henry,” his older brother Frederick returned. He stretched out on the chaise in the finely appointed parlor of their rented rooms. “Do you not believe I can comport myself properly among these fops and dandies?”

Henry smiled. “Oh, I have seen you in action. You will give the other gentlemen stiff competition.” Frederick blinked then laughed. “A jest, brother? There may be hope for you yet.” Henry bit his tongue. Though only older by one year than Henry’s twenty-five, Frederick was always teasing him about his lack of experience with the ladies. It seemed he’d done so ever since they were fresh out of the nursery. Let him keep his misconceptions. Henry had the heart and body of a man, and he longed for passion like any other red-blooded Englishman. “You seriously wish to accompany me to the pump house today?” he asked Frederick. “A rather tame amusement, no?” Frederick shrugged. “I hefted a tankard downstairs last night. It seems there are any number of nubile young ladies here just ripe for the picking.” “Bait for the parson’s trap, Frederick,” Henry said. “Isn’t that what you always say?” “Bath is terribly dull, but I believe I can find something to occupy myself until we return home to Norrington Abbey. The trick will be extricating myself afterward with my bits intact.” Henry would say nothing more on the subject. If Frederick knew that he had already set his own sights on a beautiful young lady he would do his damnedest to charm her away from him. Matters had not changed a bit since they were both in short pants, fighting over the same toy. Henry sipped his tea and settled on a chair beside the cold hearth. He recalled that Frederick always won those battles or broke the toy in retaliation. Well, Henry didn’t want him anywhere near the lovely Miss Catherine Morris. She would be his. He hadn’t been able to learn much of her situation since spotting her the other night, but that didn’t dim her sparkle in his mind. No, it added to the mystery. That and the faraway look that stole into her big blue eyes now and then. Her full, red lips parted, her fair skin flushed

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pink in the heat of the ballroom. What would she look like in her release? His cock twitched in response to that errant thought. He and Frederick soon made their way toward the pump house. As they neared, the sounds of chatter could be heard through the open archways. Mostly feminine chatter, of course. Gentlemen usually avoided this particular entertainment, but that was no matter to Henry. No doubt Catherine would be there, looking fresh and lovely. She was sweet and beautiful, and his body hardened each time he thought about her. He might have next to no money as the second son of a titled general, but that wouldn’t stop him from having her. No woman had ever affected him like she did. As they entered the crowded space, Frederick elbowed him and sauntered off in the direction of a gaggle of young ladies standing in one corner. Henry dismissed his brother from his mind, his sights set on one particular young lady sitting primly at a long bench set to one side. A girl sat with her, a pretty blonde thing who gestured with her hands as she engaged Catherine in conversation. She appeared to be dressed a shade finer than Catherine, marking her as socially superior. Though it wasn’t quite proper, Henry made his way toward the pair to beg an introduction. He wouldn’t go another day with Catherine being ignorant of his very existence. “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, doffing his hat. “If I may be so bold as to introduce myself?” The blonde flashed him a smile. “You may, as we have no chaperone today.” He kept his gaze on her, though out of the corner of his eye he could see Catherine watching him, her mouth agape as she stared. “I am Henry Tilman.” The blonde dipped her head. “Miss Isabella Thorne.” She indicated Catherine. “And this is Miss Catherine Morris.” At last given leave to face Catherine, he smiled and bowed to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Morris.” Catherine gaped at him, her cheeks pink. “It is you!”

He blinked, confused. Had she seen him before, as he had her? “I don’t understand.” She smiled, a nervous but nonetheless fetching expression. “That is to say, how do you do?” God, he loved the sound of her voice, husky and soft. She ran her eyes hungrily over him and he held his hat in front of his trousers lest she take note of his swollen cock. How could she affect him with just a look? If she ever placed one of those graceful hands on him he’d come in but a few strokes. “May I?” he asked, indicating the empty spot on the bench. Catherine’s eyes rounded. “Oh, I do not—” “Certainly, Mr. Tilman,” the blonde said. “Catherine and I would welcome your company. It is exceedingly dull here today.” Trying to cool his blood, he settled beside Catherine on the bench. “How are you enjoying Bath?” he asked. The blonde said something but he only attended Catherine. “Quite well, Mr. Tilman.” “And have you been here long?” he asked. “For nearly a fortnight,” she answered. He could smell her sweet scent, fresh and exotic like orange blossoms. Shifting on the bench, he spread his thighs to ease the pressure on his shaft. “Will you attend the balls tonight?” he asked. “Of course,” the blonde answered. “Will you be in attendance, Mr. Tilman?” Henry faced her as he considered her question. He would trade on his father’s name if they dared keep him out. “I wouldn’t miss them.” He turned to Catherine. “May I be so bold as to request a dance, Miss Morris?” Catherine blinked long lashes then gave a shaky nod. “I would like that,” she said.

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“Catherine, a dance!” the blonde said. “I have been after her to take a turn about the floor, Mr. Tilman. You are quite the magician to have wrought such a development.” Henry smiled at her. “Ah, I am no magician. Just a most fortunate man.” Catherine gave a delicate shiver, and he fought the urge to drag her into his arms. He came to his feet before he could disgrace himself in his trousers. “If you ladies will excuse me,” he said with a bow. The ladies inclined their heads once more, and he smiled. His blood pounding low and thick, he made his way through the throng with measured steps. He found his brother leaning against the wall. A young woman stared up at him in apparent rapture. Frederick caught Henry’s eye as he strolled past, triumph in his gaze. Shaking his head, Henry left his brother to his latest conquest. He had his own concerns at present. He would at last touch Catherine, if only for the length of a dance. If he had his way, it was only the beginning.

Chapter 2 “My God, how you go on,” John Thorne said, tossing back his brandy. “I have come to Bath, of all godforsaken places, to please you and our aunt. Is that not enough?” “No, John,” Isabella said. She screwed her face into the expression he knew bode ill for his sanity. “You must accompany Catherine and me to the parties tonight. Auntie is a fitting chaperone, but we desire masculine company this evening.” “The hell you say!” John placed his glass on the side table. “I have escaped more than one grasping female this season in town, Isabella. I will not put myself in harm’s way here in Bath.” She slid him a look. “As handsome as you are, John, I daresay Catherine will be able to resist your charms.” “Catherine? Who, your companion? I haven’t even met the girl.” “She’s quite lovely, brother. And twenty-one, just like me.” His balls nearly shriveled at that disclosure. “Twenty-one? The girl will be on the prowl, no doubt.” He shook his head. “I was speaking in general terms, Isabella. London is all but vacant of company and the ladies here in Bath will be searching for eligible gentlemen. I will not be caught, thank you very much. Even at my advanced age of twenty-six, I am far from ready to be leg shackled.” Isabella waved a hand. “Oh, pooh. I had hoped…” When she didn’t complete her thought, John turned to face her. “What plan are you hatching, sister?” Isabella dimpled up at him. “Oh, John. You know me well.” Alarm trilled in the back of his mind. “I do.”

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“Never fear. I would always have your best interests in mind, should I ever hatch a plan regarding my dear, handsome brother.” John rolled his eyes and stalked from the room. She’d ambushed him, dressed in a sparkling gown and looking for all the world like an angel. Pity he knew the avarice that beat in her little heart. If he found a woman to marry, surely his wife would have an eligible brother! Isabella wanted to wed, and she’d run through his friends over the past two years and found them lacking. She was now apparently eager for him to open doors for which he desired no key, not for years in any event. “Let her have all of that nonsense,” he grumbled as he climbed the staircase. Hiding in his room was perhaps poorly done of him, but he wouldn’t go with her and her companion to the parties tonight. Or any night, truth be told. He’d rather take his pleasure with one of the eager serving wenches at the inn. The last time he was in Bath he’d partaken of a particularly hot one, and she’d ridden him long into the night. She’d had dark hair. He’d always had a partiality for dark hair. She’d thrown back her head and screamed as she came, her pussy clenching his cock tight as he’d held on to his control. She’d had to take him in her mouth afterward and suck him to climax. That was the only place he’d spill his seed. With his father’s passing two years ago he had much to control, from fortune to future. He was diligent in his handling of his estate, though he went to London only when necessary. This was primarily to call on his solicitors, though he was often dragged to more than one party while there by well-meaning friends as eager to see him married as his sister was. Regarding estate business and matters of courtship, he allowed he had much to learn. In the area of control, however? He prided himself on his firm grasp of it, in the bedchamber and where his sister was concerned. He would avoid her machinations and take his pleasures

elsewhere. God knew that none of the women at the parties would lure him. Not to their bed and not to the altar. His sister’s excited chatter drifted up from the entry of the rented house. “Do come on, Catherine,” she called. A murmured answer followed, in a feminine voice that stroked over his body like a caress. Could that be his sister’s companion? He knew little of her, save that she was a pretty girl of Isabella’s age. Their aunt had said that the girl had little fortune yet carried herself well. Coming from his aunt, that was glowing praise indeed. Intrigued, he stepped out into the hall and made his way toward the railing. Their aunt’s round form sailed over the tiled floor toward the entry, feathers waving and skirts rustling. His sister came after, tugging on another girl’s gloved hand. He turned his attention to that young woman and froze. My God. She had midnight-dark hair piled on her head, and a long neck leading his eyes toward her full bosom. She was slight yet curved, with a narrow waist and sweetly rounded bottom. She tilted her head and he glimpsed her face. She was gorgeous. Her face was heartshaped, her lips full and red as she smiled at his sister. What color were her eyes? God, he wanted to know. She laughed then, a husky sound, and his cock hardened. He gripped the railing as the girl left with his family. When the door shut behind them, he slowly climbed down the stairs. It was a good thing he hadn’t accompanied the women tonight. All and sundry would surely have caught a glimpse of his throbbing shaft in his breeches. His blood pounded low as he caught a scent he didn’t recognize. It was sweet and tangy, like orange marmalade. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. There was no question it belonged to his sister’s companion. He was staying in this house with that beguiling creature? He was in trouble indeed.

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**** Catherine was once again in the dim corridor, her pulse racing as she ran through the shadows. Voices called to her, deep, masculine sounds that made her knees weak. She would not falter, however. She would find the men she sought and surrender once more. The dark-haired man leaned against the wall again, his smile as wicked and beguiling as before. She recognized him in an instant, both his handsome face and lean-muscled figure. It was Henry Tilman, of all men. That handsome man who had approached them in the pump house and touched her hand briefly and repeatedly during their one dance tonight. “Ah, Catherine,” he said, pulling her to him. She went willingly, eager for what her dream lover would do to her. He kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth in a caress she’d never imagined. Oh, his taste! Fresh and clean, like his scent. His hands began to work over her, his touch scorching through her nightdress. The ribbon holding the garment closed gave easily to his questing fingers. He kissed her here as well, his tongue teasing over her breasts as her nipples begged for equal attention. “Please, Henry,” she murmured. He smiled again and ran his hands over her legs. Her pussy wept as he stroked her. “Do you want us?” he asked. Her breath caught. “Us?” The muscled stranger was again behind her, his fingers tweaking and pinching the nipples Henry had left pert and throbbing. “Us, love,” he said, nibbling on her neck. “Let us show you pleasure.” Henry came to his knees in front of her, spreading her trembling thighs as he buried his face between her legs. Oh, this was scandalous! Then his tongue touched her swollen flesh and she swiftly changed her opinion. This was heavenly!

Henry licked and sucked at her, driving his tongue deep in her pussy as she struggled to remain upright. The man behind her whispered words of encouragement as he continued to stroke and tease her breasts. She should send them away, demand they take their hands and mouths from her. She could not. Not the other night and not tonight. “Oh, yes please!” she gasped. “Show me pleasure!” The man behind her laughed low in his throat as Henry moaned in obvious delight. Reaching up behind her, she clutched the other man’s shoulders and let herself go. Like last night her body flushed hot. Fire licked at her as Henry brought her closer to that mysterious something that she seemed to crave. “Yes, yes, yes!” she cried. In the next moment she was once more in her bed, one hand on her breast and the other between her legs. Her touch was inadequate, however. She wanted Henry and that mysterious other man to finish what they’d started. To ease this ache deep inside as she suspected only they could. Today Isabella would no doubt wish to make the rounds again. Surely Henry would be about as well. Catherine’s cheeks flamed as hot as her body. However would she face him, after what she’d longed for him to do? She closed her eyes. Perhaps a vivid imagination was not such a good thing after all. When she finally rose for the day the sun was bright through her window. She’d managed to sleep after that incredible dream then, though she couldn’t imagine how. Isabella would be in the breakfast room already, so Catherine hurried with her toilette and dress. As a companion she didn’t have the luxury of a maid to attend her, but that was something she was accustomed to. Her hair was thick and long, but she twisted it into a simple style and hurried down to the breakfast room. As expected, Isabella was seated within. She smiled up at her. “Catherine!”

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“Good morning, Isabella,” Catherine said. “I’m afraid I was a bit of a slugabed this morning.” “No matter. Help yourself to eggs and ham and join me.” Catherine filled her plate and settled in the chair across from Isabella. “What are we about this day?” “Oh, perhaps another trip to the pump house?” Isabella asked with a shrug. “Or perhaps we can convince my brother to take us to one of the tearooms?” “Your brother has arrived?” “Yes, and Aunt Beatrice is most relieved that John has joined us here at the house.” Catherine smiled as she ate her breakfast. Isabella’s aunt was indeed a worrier. With the addition of John Thorne there would be another pair of eyes to keep watch over Isabella. And with a man in the party they would be most welcome guests at any assembly. “There are few gentlemen in Bath this time of year,” Catherine said, taking up her teacup. “How long will your brother be staying?” Isabella frowned. “I’m not certain. John can be quite changeable. We’ll just have to enjoy his company while—Oh, good morning, brother!” “Good morning, sister,” a deep voice returned. Catherine’s breath left her body in a rush. Why, this man’s voice was much like the one that had whispered such naughty things in her ear last night! Trembling, she set the cup back on its saucer. She dabbed her lips and turned, then drank in the splendid picture of John Thorne. He was broad shouldered and tall, with a strong countenance. Fair-haired like his sister, he possessed deep hazel eyes that drew her attention. But his mouth! It was as full as Henry Tilman’s and tilted on one side just as deliciously. Her own lips tingled as she wondered what he would taste like. “Isabella, I take it this is your lovely companion?” he asked. “John, this is Miss Catherine Morris,” Isabella said.

“Miss Morris,” he said with a slight bow. “A pleasure.” Catherine swallowed. “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Thorne.” Her voice sounded weak to her ears. He stared back at her for a long moment then sauntered over to the sideboard. “What are you ladies about this day?” Catherine studied his buttocks, shown to advantage in his tan trousers. His shoulders, clad in his rich brown jacket, seemed even wider from this angle. He set his plate, piled high with food, on the table and settled his large form across from her. She watched him eat for a moment, staring at his well-formed mouth as he drank his tea. What would his kisses taste like? True, she’d only had Henry’s kisses in her dreams but not this man’s. Not yet. Would he be as commanding as she imagined? Would he take her in his arms, press her against that sculpted chest she’d felt at her back? Did the hair on his chest match those golden waves on his head? “…take us to the tearoom. Isn’t that right, Catherine?” Catherine started then turned to find Isabella gazing at her expectantly. “Pardon?” Isabella smiled. “Were you living in those fantasies of yours again?” Catherine’s cheeks flamed. She knew Isabella spoke of her favorite novels, but as she’d just been contemplating her brother’s bare chest she had the grace to dip her head. “What did you ask me, Isabella?” “I was telling John that he simply must accompany us to one of the tearooms today, as he’d escaped the parties last evening.” “And I will this evening as well,” he intoned. His eyes settled on Catherine and she struggled to keep her countenance. “You do not like the parties, Mr. Thorne?” “Perhaps you can call me John, Miss Morris? You are nearly a member of the family, at least temporarily.” She glanced at Isabella, who gave her an enthusiastic nod. “As you wish, John,” she said. “And you may call me Catherine.”

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He smiled and her heart gave a flip. Why, this was precisely what had happened when she made Henry Tilman’s acquaintance! “I take it you do like the parties, Catherine? Like my sister here?” “Catherine doesn’t usually enjoy the parties, I daresay,” Isabella said. “Though last evening she actually permitted a gentleman to lead her about the dance floor.” “Really, Isabella,” Catherine said softly. “You do not like to dance?” His eyes sparkled and she saw the gold flecks dancing within. “Perhaps you have not had the chance to be partnered with the right man.” “Mr. Tilman was a delightful partner, wasn’t he Catherine?” Catherine blushed again. “I enjoyed our dance.” “Mr. Tilman?” John asked, leaning toward her. His brows drew together. “Not Frederick Tilman.” “I do not know that man,” Catherine said. “I spoke of Henry Tilman.” He seemed to relax a bit. “Ah, Henry. Good sort. Knew him at Cambridge.” “Who is this Frederick Tilman, brother?” Isabella asked, her eyes alight. John shook his head. “He’s not for the likes of you,” he said in a clipped tone. “Ooh, a rake is he?” his sister asked. “And who are you to object to a gentleman with a reputation so similar to yours?” Catherine stared at his profile as he contemplated his sister’s question. He was a rake, then? She recalled the feel of his phantom hands on her breasts, his fingers relentless on her flesh. She could believe him quite experienced indeed. “Never mind,” he said. “You will have Catherine believing I make promises I don’t intend to keep.” His eyes were on her again, and her nipples tightened in her stays. Wriggling in her seat, she tried to quell the pulsing that began in her

pussy. Oh, her dreams were exceedingly salacious, but how could she want two men in reality as well? “The tearooms, brother?” Isabella pressed again. Catherine held her breath as she waited for his answer. She was torn between wanting to remain in his company and hoping to hide in her little room until this madness passed. “I would be delighted,” he answered at last. Isabella clapped her hands in delight. “Capital!” He ran his gaze over Catherine, his lips parted. His cheeks reddened a bit, and she fancied he had the same thoughts that swirled in her own head. She chided her imagination. Better to keep him and Henry to her dreams.

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Chapter 3 Henry strolled toward the pump house, keeping his steps even. He’d had a devil of a time trying to get to sleep last night, unable to get Catherine’s sweet, tangy scent out of his mind. Their one dance was enough to confirm his suspicions. Her hand, so soft and delicate in his. Her body moving gracefully through the predetermined steps. Her smile the one time she’d raised those gorgeous eyes to his face. She was the one woman he’d been searching for. The one woman with whom he could finally begin to live. Life at Norrington Abbey was quite dull, but he’d never found it truly confining until recently. Lately, his father had begun to spend more time at the abbey rather than visiting his well-connected friends. Henry knew the general relied on his skill with the running of the place, but his constant derision was beginning to wear on him. He would one day take up the living left vacant when one of his cousins died, but until then he was truly stuck at the abbey. He might lack the fortitude that his father and brother reportedly possessed, but spending time at the abbey with only his father’s cold company made him feel lonely and miserable. He wanted more and, remarkable as it seemed, Catherine was apparently a big part of that. This morning Frederick had spelled out in detail how he’d passed the previous night. He’d spent it with two girls with less-than-stellar prospects. Henry had managed to hide his shock. Two women at the same time? He’d been intrigued by the image his brother’s words elicited nevertheless. Imagine having one girl on his cock while another rode his tongue to climax? In a flash the image shifted, to just one particular girl stretched out over his body, her rosebud mouth

eagerly sucking his cock while she rubbed her sweet, wet pussy in his face. Would she taste as delectable as her scent? He caught a glimpse of Catherine’s slender figure up ahead, entering the nearest tearoom across the street. She was with Miss Thorne, who was once again talking animatedly. He squinted as he spied the tall gentleman accompanying the young women. There was something familiar about him. It struck him in the next moment. John Thorne. He’d known the man had a sister but he hadn’t put the two together before now. “Blast,” he grumbled to himself. John’s reputation at Cambridge rivaled Frederick’s to be sure. He had to learn just how long the man would be staying under the same roof as Catherine. Surely the temptation she posed would be too great for a man of his appetites. Steeling himself for a polite and probing confrontation, he doffed his hat and entered the tearoom. “Mr. Tilman!” he heard Miss Thorne call. “Catherine, it’s Mr. Tilman!” Henry smiled, the expression becoming more comfortable as his gaze settled on Catherine. She looked a picture in her blue dress. Her dark tresses were arranged in a simple style, yet they shone in the sunlight streaming through the windows. He bowed. “Miss Thorne. Miss Morris. What a delight to find you here.” John Thorne cleared his throat. “Tilman.” Henry nodded to him. “Thorne.” “Is your brother not with you?” Miss Thorne asked. “Sister,” Thorne said, a warning in his voice. She waved a hand. “Catherine and I would love it if you joined us, Mr. Tilman.” Henry looked to Catherine, whose eyes were running over him in a fashion that caused his cock to twitch to life. He knew he didn’t cut as dashing a figure as their escort, but by the speculation in her blue eyes he didn’t think she found him lacking. As for John Thorne, that man sat far too close to Catherine in his opinion.

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“I would be delighted,” Henry said, taking the vacant chair on Catherine’s other side. He caught the glint of something in Thorne’s eyes, a predatory possession. Well, he’d seen Catherine first! At least, he thought he had. “How long have you been in Bath, Thorne?” he asked. The man leaned back in his chair, his arm nearly touching Catherine’s as a result. “Only arrived yesterday.” Henry felt himself relax a bit. “And will you be accompanying the ladies to the functions?” Thorne smiled, turning toward Catherine fully. “What do you say, Miss Morris? Should I serve as escort?” Catherine’s mouth was an O of surprise. “I…Isabella, what do you think?” Evidently, she was unused to such direct communication in company. That was a pity, for Henry had found her a most interesting girl when they’d spoken last evening. A bit fanciful perhaps as she spoke of her beloved novels, but that did not detract from her appeal. “I daresay we will be unable to go anywhere without his escort,” Miss Thorne answered. John preened, and Catherine’s eyes were glued to him now. “It is my duty to see to Isabella’s and Catherine’s welfare while here with them.” “Catherine,” is it? Henry knew he had a true rival now. If he didn’t press his suit he would no doubt soon read the banns for their nuptials. He scoffed to himself. John Thorne could not have marriage on his mind. “I thought to invite you for a ride tomorrow, Miss Morris,” Henry said. “I daresay you haven’t been out of town much since your arrival?” “Hardly,” Miss Thorne said. “I say,” John Thorne put in. “Are you fond of an open carriage, Catherine?”

Catherine looked from one to the other. “I suppose…” “That settles it. We shall ride out to Lansdown Hill.” “Brother, that would be delightful!” Miss Thorne turned to Catherine. “Oh, the hill is said to offer a lovely prospect, Catherine. We shall have a grand time.” “It is a long ride, Thorne.” Henry bristled. “What is a ride to fine horses such as mine?” Thorne returned. “I shall drive Catherine and you can take my sister in your…How would you describe your equipage, Tilman?” “My equipage is quite adequate,” Henry bit out. Thorne’s eyes narrowed, putting Henry on his guard. “Adequate. Not a glowing endorsement, I daresay.” Catherine appeared a bit confused, but Henry didn’t miss the man’s meaning. His cock was more than adequate! “I find when a man boasts about his equipment it may be found lacking,” Henry said. Thorne glowered at him for a moment then dipped his head in concession. “We’ll expect you at the house at noon.” He faced Catherine. “Will that be time enough for you ladies to ready yourselves?” “Brother, really,” Miss Thorne said. “We are young women, used to staying up to all hours then going about on calls and visits. We shall not disappoint. Isn’t that right, Catherine?” Catherine licked her lips, drawing Henry’s gaze to her pretty mouth. “Yes, Isabella,” she said softly. “Do you think your brother will join us, Mr. Tilman?” Isabella asked. “Frederick? I should say not,” Henry answered. “Far too tame an adventure for him.” When the girl’s eyes lit up at that disclosure Henry wished he could call the words back. It wouldn’t do for his brother to defile Catherine’s friend. There would be little to recommend his suit should Catherine be so turned against the Tilman family.

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Pots of tea and plates of biscuits arrived and Henry came to his feet. “I shall leave you to your refreshments.” He bowed to the ladies and dipped his head to Thorne. “Until the morrow.” Catherine gazed up at him, that hot speculation on her face once again. What was she thinking in that clever mind of hers? Did her imagination extend to carnal activities? He could hardly wait to find out. **** John stood in the entry, his watch in his hand. Half past eleven. He’d told Tilman noon. He may just have to leave a bit earlier than that with the lovely Catherine by his side. He’d watched Henry Tilman closely yesterday in the tearoom. The man had designs on her, that was certain. If he were wise, John would leave her to him, but apparently he wasn’t, not where she was concerned. He’d rarely experienced desire as sharp as he felt for the girl, especially after so short an acquaintance. He wasn’t going to give her to Tilman’s clumsy attentions before tasting her himself. Today’s ride might be just the opportunity to gauge her feelings on matters. “John, it is most gentlemanly of you to take the girls to Lansdown today.” John turned to his aunt and smiled. “It is my pleasure, Aunt.” She eyed him closely. He’d always suspected his late father’s sister could see through any façade he thought to erect. “I know how you ran about at Cambridge,” she said. Amazingly, he felt his cheeks heat as they had yesterday morning when faced with Catherine’s open perusal. Was he reduced to acting the schoolboy now? “I assure you, I have been nothing but circumspect since leaving that hallowed institution.” “Reputation is very important to young ladies, John. Why, for some it may be the only thing of value they possess.”

He knew she spoke of Catherine’s lack of fortune or family connections. That mattered little to him, though. He might not know where this attraction would lead but he would never ruin a young lady’s reputation. “I would never do anything to bring my sister down,” he said, choosing to take his aunt’s words at their face value. Aunt Beatrice nodded then turned toward the front parlor. “Take care on your ride, John.” John made a sound of agreement and gazed up the stairs as he awaited the ladies’ arrival. Yes, he would assure that Isabella’s reputation remained intact. He would also make sure she remained blissfully ignorant of his actions toward her companion. As to that delightful creature? He’d preserve her reputation as well, if not her virginity. Ah, he would take her and soon. And if Henry Tilman thought he would claim her first he was in for a surprise. Catherine joined him before Isabella, and he caught her sweet marmalade scent as she stopped before him. She’d dressed in a cunning little outfit just right for their outing, in a peach-colored dress dotted with little white flowers. A straw bonnet topped her dark curls. She looked as delicious as she smelled. “Catherine, you look lovely.” She blushed and ran her hands over the gold velvet spencer fastened over her bodice. “This jacket is Isabella’s. She lent it to me.” And I can’t wait to take it off of you. “I’d be lying if I said I ever recall Isabella looking as fine in it.” “Brother, I am shocked!” Isabella said as she joined them. “You wound me.” “You cannot deny Catherine looks a picture, sister,” he said. “As do you.” Isabella, apparently mollified, dropped a curtsey. “This shall be a pleasant morning, don’t you think?” “I do indeed.” He turned to Catherine. “Why don’t we go on ahead, Catherine. Tilman and Isabella can join us.”

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Catherine appeared worried, her delicate brow creased and her lower lip peeping out. He longed to lick it. “I don’t know,” she said. He could see she wasn’t averse to being alone with him, however. She seemed to waver. “What do you think, Isabella?” His sister cocked her head to the side, her mind no doubt working furiously. Let her believe him interested in her friend. For once in her life she had the right of it. “I suppose Mr. Tilman and I can catch up with you both, though my brother’s horses are quite fast.” John couldn’t help it. He grinned. “Catherine and I will simply wait for you to join us on Lansdown, if need be. We shall be able to occupy ourselves, I imagine.” “Imagine,” Catherine repeated softly. She seemed to tremble beside him and he tamped down the urge to drag her into his arms right then. Isabella accompanied them to the front door. “Besides, I can use the time alone with Mr. Tilman to pepper him with questions about his intriguing older brother.” John rolled his eyes and escorted Catherine out to his carriage waiting out front. He could feel the heat of her hand through her glove as he handed her up into the carriage. Hot and sweet, a compelling combination. She settled daintily on the seat and turned her face to the blue skies overhead. “What a lovely day!” His lungs seized. “Lovely, indeed.” He flicked the reins, and they pulled out into traffic. He drove the horses a little faster, eliciting an excited gasp from Catherine. His body reacted, and he felt that certainty again. “You’ll enjoy the ride, I daresay.” She laughed then let out a shout. “There is Mr. Tilman!” John turned his head and locked gazes with Henry Tilman where he passed them in his carriage. The man looked surprised, and then he glared at him. Pity, if he’d been just ten minutes earlier…

“Seems he wanted to get an early start as well,” John said. Catherine turned in her seat to follow Henry’s carriage with her eyes. “I hope he won’t be put out that we left without waiting.” “Ah, he and Isabella will catch up with us soon enough.” She seemed assured and turned back around in her seat. John smiled to himself. He was a great judge of horses and carriages, and even if Henry rode like the wind after he picked up Isabella there was no way he would catch them. To be sure, John’s carriage would reach the hill nearly an hour before Henry’s. The roads were dry and his horses ate up the twenty miles to Lansdown. There weren’t any tourists about, which was no surprise given the banality of this particular excursion. He pulled the carriage to a shaded spot beneath a tree and turned to take Catherine’s hand in his. “Mr. Thorne!” John smiled. “Ah, you agreed to call me ‘John.’” She returned the expression. “John.” “Tell me about yourself, Catherine.” She blinked. “What is it you wish to know?” Her dainty brows drew together. “Oh, my situation. There is little mystery there, I’m afraid. I’m one of ten children, John. My ability to care for the younger ones undeniably contributes to my skill as a companion.” She gave him a small smile. “I’ve yet to lose a one of them, so your sister is quite safe in my company. As to my future after this delightful duty is passed, I have no fortune to speak of and will no doubt have to make my own way in the world once Isabella weds.” He was shocked by her frank disclosure, though he’d guessed the particulars. They were of little consequence to him in any event. “My sister is quite fickle, Catherine.” He kissed her hand, burying his nose beneath the hem of her glove to sniff her wrist. Orange marmalade. “It will likely be years before she weds.” “Years?” The hope in her big blue eyes set his blood pounding. He’d give anything to keep that hope alive. To make certain that she

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had a place in the world she wouldn’t have to make on her own. Should he take her as his mistress? She was an untried girl, one of virtue if not fortune. He had to have her, though. He’d reason out the rest of it later. “But you do not have to worry,” he said, drawing her closer. “I shall make certain of that.” He brought his lips to hers, flicking his tongue over them. She moaned and opened beneath him. He pulled back in surprise then plunged his tongue deep inside. Her taste was sharper here, intoxicating, and he began to lose himself. He brought his lips to her throat, dragging his tongue over her skin. “John,” he heard her murmur as she grabbed his hand. She placed it on her breast and sighed. “Oh, touch me.” He wasn’t one to deny such a pretty request. He kneaded her full breast through her spencer, but it wasn’t enough. He worked the tiny buttons free and saw she wore no fichu beneath. No, just her creamy skin met his gaze and his lips, for he had to kiss her there. “Catherine.” He flicked his tongue into her cleavage, and she arched against the seat. Reaching beneath her skirts, he brushed his fingers over the silken flesh above her stockings. He cupped her through her drawers, and she scalded him. “My God, you’re wet.” She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut. “Touch me, John.” He pushed her drawers aside and did so, using her juices to tease her clit where it hid among the damp curls. Her pussy grabbed at his fingers, her hips moving as he began that rhythm he knew would please her. He felt the proof of her virginity, and that stilled him for a moment. Then he looked at her. She wore her sexual frustration on her face, her need for what he could do for her. She might be a virgin in body, but she was a purely sexual being at the moment. He teased and pinched until he felt her climax start. “Yes!” she cried, spreading her legs wide. “Oh, that’s it!” She bucked as she came, soaking his hand with her juices. He could smell her scent, sweet and tangy, and he longed to taste her. To

bury his face in her fragrant cunt and eat to his heart’s content. His mouth watered at the prospect. That was for another time, however. Tilman’s carriage could arrive at any moment. He rubbed a hand over his aching cock, giving it a long stroke. “Ah, what you do to me.” “I don’t…” She opened her eyes to stare up at him. “To you?” “Do you think me unaffected? My cock is hard as a rock, love.” He shifted and settled between her thighs, teasing her opening with his throbbing shaft. “I want you, Catherine. Can you feel me?” She froze, then he stroked his swollen shaft over her clit and she let out a delighted squeal. “Oh, yes. Why, that is remarkable!” He prayed his lauded control would hold as he moved himself over her heat. She closed her eyes again and wriggled again him. He froze. He had to stop and right this moment. “Catherine,” he whispered, kissing her mouth. “We mustn’t.” She blinked up at him, and then her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oh!” He wanted her, so desperately that he’d nearly disgraced himself in his trousers. So much for his control. She made him forget himself, and the notion wasn’t as frightening as he’d once believed. That moment he realized matters had changed. She would never be just his mistress. No. She was everything. And he would do everything in his power to keep her forever.

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Chapter 4 Catherine tried to catch her breath, her body still trembling from all John had done to her. Oh, this was so much better than her dreams! “Catherine, love,” he rasped, nuzzling her cheek. “My God, Catherine.” She stroked his broad shoulders, feeling her pussy twinge with every breath. He was still pressed against her, and she wished for a moment that she could have him deep inside. Even in her fevered dreams she’d never imagine such a thing. It felt as though something was missing. She’d had her very first climax yet she felt incomplete. “John, could you…” He straightened and flashed her a bright smile. “I don’t want to crush you.” He’d misunderstood. She didn’t want to let go. No, she wanted him to finish what he started. However could she admit such a thing? He pulled away from her with a grunt, and before she could glimpse that remarkable member hidden in his trousers he shifted to conceal it from view. He then helped her arrange herself, easing her skirts down and brushing his hands over the fabric. “Not too wrinkled,” he said. She looked down and allowed that no one would guess how altered she was beneath her pretty gown. He hadn’t taken her, but that was due to his presence of forethought, not her own. What did this mean? Did John wish a permanent arrangement? She dismissed the thought as soon as it arose. That would be ridiculous. She was nothing.

Her fingers shook as she attempted to fasten her spencer over her still-tingling breasts. John took over the task, dropping a kiss on her cheek when he’d finished. “There. Once again you are a picture.” The sound of carriage wheels over the road reached her. John turned, a frown marring his handsome face for a moment. Then he smiled at her. “This is just the beginning, Catherine,” he rushed out. “I will find a way for us to be together.” Her breath caught. “What do you mean, John?” He flashed another smile then shook his head. “My sister and Tilman are nearly upon us.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it. “We’ll speak soon.” Henry’s carriage pulled up behind John’s. Henry glared at John before alighting and assisting Isabella out of the carriage. “I say, your horses are very fast,” Henry said. John shrugged. “I saw no reason to put off our pleasure to keep to a slower pace.” Catherine’s face heated at his words. Pleasure, indeed! Isabella stared at her, her head tilted to one side. Could she guess what John had done to her? Or what she longed for him to do still? Catherine glanced at Henry, seeing that dark intent in his soulful eyes. Her gaze fell to his hands. They were such nice hands. How would he make love? She gave herself a mental shake. Oh, she had to cease with these fantasies. “I’m glad you’ve joined us,” Catherine said to him. Henry smiled, and it was as if he touched her as intimately as John had. That man wore a suspicious cast on his features, and Catherine turned from both of them. “Let us take in the view,” Isabella said. “That is the reason we rode out here, is it not?” Catherine nodded, but she couldn’t form words at present. She’d come out to learn more about her two gentlemen, to perhaps decide which one was the true hero of her dreams. She was still unsure. The

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memories of what they’d done to her in that darkened corridor, what John did to her in the bright sunshine, combined to make her ache for them both. She might never secure a marriage of her own, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge her fantasies, did it? The late morning passed into afternoon, and by that time Catherine was ready to scream her frustration to the beautiful blue sky. John was solicitous and teasing, flirting shamelessly while Henry eased himself ever closer to her on the blanket he’d brought. She barely participated in the conversation, though Isabella didn’t seem to notice. That was fortunate for Catherine, as John and Henry monopolized all of her attention and interest. Her drawers were wet and rubbed against her swollen pussy every time she shifted. The day had grown warmer, but she didn’t dare remove her borrowed spencer. Her breasts were tingling, her nipples tight against her stays, and she didn’t trust herself not to rub her hands over the aching tips to ease their discomfort should she have access. She could smell both men now, that leather and woodsy scent of John that had filled her in the carriage and a fresh soapy scent she now knew as Henry’s. Their scents mingled with the fresh grass and wildflowers growing with abandon on the hill. What would happen if Isabella had not been there as oblivious chaperone? Would Catherine dare to ask John and Henry to please her as they had in her dreams? “It looks like our day shall end with rain,” Henry said. Catherine had been studying his mouth, so it was a few moments before his words penetrated. “Oh, rain?” “John, you had better get your carriage back before it starts,” Isabella said. “Come, Catherine,” John said, coming to his feet. “I shall take Miss Morris, Thorne,” Henry said. Take her? She stared at Henry. Oh, he could not mean take her! Catherine’s heart doubled its beat as the two of them silently clashed. Isabella was smoothing her clothing to remove any stray blades of

grass, so she didn’t seem to notice the animosity flowing between the men. “Catherine came with me,” John said. The wicked glint in his eye told her he meant his words as he said them. She had indeed found her release under his skillful touch. Henry’s eyes narrowed and she watched as his nostrils flared. “Nevertheless.” “Do come, brother,” Isabella said with irritation. “Let us return before your lovely cushions get soaked.” Once more John smiled in Catherine’s direction. He was so naughty! He bowed at her and Henry. “We shall see you at home, Catherine.” He flicked his eyes at Henry. “Tilman.” Henry seemed pleased by the turn of events. He assisted Catherine into his modest carriage and secured the top. He then climbed up to drive them back to Bath. Catherine sat in the darkened vehicle, nibbling her bottom lip. She replayed their outing in her mind, her feelings in a muddle. Perhaps it was a good thing that Henry and John were both out of her reach. The rhythmic rocking of the carriage served to heighten her arousal, the patter of raindrops on the roof soon adding to her discomfort. She could almost imagine herself in her little bed in Bath, lost in the wicked sensations her dream lovers could give her. She unbuttoned her spencer and rubbed her palms over her nipples. This only inflamed her, hidden as they were behind her stays. She removed her jacket and reached behind to tug at the laces, loosening them enough to allow her to ease her fingers between the garment and her flesh. Oh, how good that felt! She let out a moan as she pinched and teased her nipples. The carriage pulled to a stop, rocking violently as it settled. The door opened and Henry stood there, dripping from the rain. His eyes were fastened on her breasts and he licked his lips. “Catherine.”

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**** Henry stared at Catherine, taking in her expression of surprise. Her eyes were round, her mouth open. But it was her hands that drew his gaze. Her delicate fingers teased the prettiest breasts he’d ever seen. Her nipples were a shade darker than the rose of her lips, puckered and pert. Though she was probably unaware of it, she continued to caress them. His mouth watered as he imagined stroking the tips with his tongue. “Catherine,” he said again. He’d thought he’d heard her moaning but he never imagined he’d find her like this. “Henry,” she said, dropping her hands behind her on the seat. “You weren’t supposed to—” “Supposed to see your beautiful breasts?” he finished for her. “What, that privilege is reserved for John Thorne?” She glanced down and pulled her dress over her breasts. “No, John did not see them.” He closed the door and joined her on the narrow seat. He’d never much liked his small carriage, but he was grateful for its meager dimensions now. “Did he touch them?” Her gaze slid to her hands, twisting in her skirts. “He didn’t, not really.” He had to know. “But you wanted him to.” Her long lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. “Yes. As I want you to now.” He cupped one breast, feeling its precious weight, its heat. Her nipple puckered against his palm and he gave a gentle squeeze. “Ah, Catherine.” She arched slightly, rubbing against his hand. “Touch me, Henry.” She closed her eyes. “Please.” He licked his lips then closed his mouth over the bud. She cried out and he began to suckle. She tasted as sweet as she smelled and his

cock throbbed to life. He reached beneath her skirts and touched her. Her drawers were drenched and he lifted his head to glance down. “Did Thorne touch you?” “Yes.” She spread her thighs to his touch. “He touched my…pussy.” The word was a whisper as her cheeks turned pink. He removed her drawers and dipped a fingertip within her folds. Tiny muscles pulled at him as she moaned again. “Did he fu—Did he take you?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. I have never…No.” Henry spread her pretty pussy, longing for more light through the rainy windows. Falling to his knees, he watched the play of his hands over the milky skin revealed above her stockings. Her scent was sharper now, her juices catching the meager light within the carriage to glisten invitingly. “Did he taste you?” She jerked upward. “No!” Henry smiled. He saw the shock on her face but the speculation, too. Unable to stop himself, he buried his face between her thighs. Gripping her slender hips, he licked and sucked at her flesh. Her clit was swollen already, due to his play on her breasts and her own innate sensuality. She was so responsive, writhing beneath his tongue as he drove her toward climax. Thorne might have been the first to touch her but he was the first to taste her. And ah, what a treat! “Just like my dream,” he heard her whisper. “Oh, Henry!” He stilled. She’d dreamt of this? His balls began to ache, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from giving her what she craved. “Come for me now, Catherine.” He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit. “Come for me.” In the next moment, she did. Her soft cries of completion filled the vehicle as surely as her scent, her juices as sweet on his tongue as he’d imagined. He waited for her to regain herself. She was a limp mass of sexual satisfaction there before him, and he knew if he freed his cock to fuck

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her she wouldn’t resist. She was pure, though. He had to know she would be only his if he took this step. “I won’t take you,” he said softly. She opened her eyes at last and gazed at him. “That was lovely, Henry. I know I shouldn’t have let you do that, but oh, it was heavenly.” There was affection in her gaze, he was sure of it. She couldn’t care more for him, knowing him for so short a time. Undoubtedly, she felt the same for Thorne, damn him. And that scoundrel was staying in the same house! “Come with me to Norrington Abbey,” he rushed out. “I cannot!” She shook her head. “I must stay with Isabella. I am to be her companion and I cannot…” She looked down. “I am dependent upon the Thornes.” It was as he’d heard, then. She was without fortune or any wealthy family to see to her future. No matter. He wanted her. He was not without resources. An idea began to form, one where she could come and stay with him forever. “You will be a guest, Catherine. You will have no worries while at the abbey, I promise you.” “But what of afterward? No. I must stay with the Thornes.” The rain began to lessen on the roof. He gave a nod and helped her adjust her clothes. “We do not have to decide matters now, love. Let me speak to my father—” “The general?” She cut in. “Oh no, Henry. You mustn’t tell your father what we shared. Surely he would not want me in his home.” Although he did not want to admit it, she had the right of it. He would have to approach the general tonight and make arrangements. He had to get Catherine away from the Thornes. It was the only chance he had to make her see she belonged with him.

Chapter 5 Catherine sat alone in the carriage once again, the trip taking far longer than when she’d traveled with John in his fast carriage. She was grateful for the solitude and the time, for both gave her the opportunity to consider what she would do about John’s attentions and Henry’s offer. Neither gentlemen spoke of forever. That was painfully clear to her. They wanted her, there was no question. From every touch, look, and caress she could tell they cared for her at least a little bit. She was one of ten children, with nothing to recommend her but her beauty and good manners. Surely either man could find a woman who was her equal or better in those respects, with a fortune to boot! Oh, she didn’t even know which man she would want if either of them made her a true offer. John would no doubt want a mistress, which she could never consent to be. As for Henry? He was likely of the same mind, as his father would never approve of his marrying a girl like her. Why did she have to indulge her illicit desires with them? “Because you wanted them both,” she told herself softly. “And you still do.” She should stop herself from ever being alone with either one of them from now on. She was still a virgin, through no part of her own. Both of them had made that decision for her, weak-willed girl that she was. Should she be alone with John or Henry—or both of them!—she would undoubtedly beg them to take her. A tiny taste of the pleasures they could give her only made her crave for more from both of them.

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When they arrived back at the Thornes’s rented house, she was still confounded. Henry smiled so sweetly at her when he helped her from the carriage she nearly cried. Was he so oblivious to the obstacles between them? Stature and station, the same things that separated her from John. However, the biggest blockade in her mind was her desire for the both of them. “Well, you finally made it back,” John said as they entered the house. His voice sounded teasing, but she saw the irritation on his face. Did he suspect what she and Henry had done? “The rain slowed us considerably,” Henry answered. John raked his gaze over Catherine and she shivered. She wasn’t chilled, not at all. His expression was as carnal as it had been as he’d brought her to her first climax. “Just in time for tea!” Isabella said as she joined them. “Come into the parlor. Aunt Beatrice is within as well.” Henry and John stared at each other, and then Henry nodded. “I would be delighted.” He held out his elbow to Catherine, but John was faster. “Come, Catherine.” She stood between them and was suddenly gripped with the naughty notion to take each of them in hand. Wouldn’t they be scandalized if they could read her mind! Instead, she lightly touched John’s sleeve and let him take her into the parlor. It was a pretty room, with two comfortable settees and a few chairs arranged in front of the marble hearth. A low fire burned there, in deference to the chilly rain. John led her to one of the settees and sat beside her. Henry stiffened then settled in a chair beside Isabella. “Did you all enjoy your excursion?” John and Isabella’s aunt asked from her perch on the other settee. “I daresay it is a shame it was cut short by the weather.” “It was lovely, Aunt,” Isabella said.

“And what of you, Catherine?” the older woman asked. “Did my nephew and Mr. Tilman take good care of you?” Catherine lowered her lashes. If the woman knew what she’d done, first with her nephew and then with a man wholly unconnected to her, she would set Catherine from the house in an instant. “Yes, ma’am.” The elder Miss Thorne eyed her closely, finally nodding to the maid to set down her tray and leave them. Tea was served and pleasantries exchanged, then Henry gave her a look of determination. He would repeat his offer to take her to Norrington Abbey, of that she had no doubt. Her heart tripped and she leaned toward him. “Please don’t,” she whispered. “What is that, Catherine?” Isabella asked from her seat opposite. “Don’t what, pray?” John asked, a slight growl in his voice. Henry squared his shoulders. “I asked Miss Morris to join me and my family when we return to Norrington Abbey two days hence.” John came to his feet. “She cannot possibly leave my aunt and sister, Tilman.” “John, do let Mr. Tilman continue,” Isabella said. “Why do you wish to take Catherine with you?” “I merely wish to continue our acquaintance,” Henry answered. Catherine saw the contemplative expression on Isabella’s face. Most presumed she was feather-headed, but Catherine knew better. Isabella was sharp indeed. “Well, she would enjoy a visit,” Isabella said. “No doubt the place is quite Gothic? Catherine so enjoys those novels, you know.” “Quite,” Henry said. Isabella looked down, running her fingers over her teacup. “Will your family return to the abbey as well?” Henry looked confused by the question, but Catherine knew why she asked. The girl had developed a fascination with the rakish Frederick Tilman.

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“My brother and father will follow within the week. We have ample staff, so there is no worry to Miss Morris’s reputation.” “There won’t be,” John said. “I believe my sister should accompany her.” Catherine stilled. “But what of your aunt?” She faced the older woman. “Ma’am, surely you do not wish to leave Bath.” “I don’t believe there is any reason for me to, dear. I wish to stay and visit with my friends, friends too old and too dull to interest you girls. You and Isabella go, that is if Mr. Tilman wishes to extend the invitation.” “Of course,” Henry said with a smile. “I would delight in nothing more.” John was rigid beside Catherine, his hands fisted. Then he suddenly eased, leaning back and crossing his legs. She could not guess the reason for his turnabout, but she’d seen that knowing expression on his face just hours earlier. It was precisely when he’d given her the first taste of splendid release. What was he about? “I fear I must accompany the ladies, Tilman,” John said. “That is, if you think you can extend the invitation to include me as well.” Catherine shot him a look. He had Henry trapped and he knew it. One glance over at Henry told her that her dilemma wouldn’t resolve itself any time soon. No, her irrational desire for the both of them would continue through her awkward visit to Norrington Abbey. “Of course,” Henry said, his voice clipped. Then he shot her a look of hunger that mirrored the one John had employed. Perhaps the general wouldn’t allow it. That was her only hope. And her worry, truth be told. At least to herself, she had to acknowledge that the prospect of roaming the Gothic castle with her two beaux beside her filled her body with wants she longed to indulge. Surely there were hidden passageways and secluded alcoves just meant for further exploration into the sensual delights they’d begun. Hiding her smile, she sipped at her tea.

**** John sat beside Catherine, itching to reach across and grab Henry Tilman by the throat. How dare he suggest taking her with him to his bloody abbey! She was his, and he was damned if the man was going to get her alone again. Henry touched her after John had left with Isabella, he was certain of it. It was in his posture and demeanor as he brought her into the house, let alone clear on Catherine’s flushed cheeks. She’d worn that same sexual self-awareness after he’d given her what he knew was her first orgasm! Henry stood, bowing to the ladies. “I should be off to make the proper arrangements.” John came to his feet. “I’ll see you out.” Catherine stared at both of them, her eyes round as she nibbled that delectable bottom lip of hers. She gave a shaky nod and focused on her teacup as Isabella began to ruminate upon all of the delights to be found on a great estate with such a history. Funny, the girl never gave two thoughts to their home in Somersetshire. True, it was no Norrington Abbey, but it was well suited to a wealthy man and his wife. That errant thought shocked him, so he quietly followed Henry through the entry and out onto the drive. “I know what you are attempting,” he said to Henry once they were alone. “Pardon?” Henry shrugged. “I thought Miss Morris could use some time away from her duties.” “Tell me you didn’t take her,” John demanded. Henry paused then shook his head. “I did not. Can you tell me you didn’t try to yourself?” “I did not.” It was his turn to answer. “I could have, however. Ah, she was a willing woman in my arms after I made her come.” “Damn you,” Henry spat. Then he tilted his head. “It is of no consequence, for I made her come as well.”

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“You touched her,” John said. “Yes.” Henry paused. “Tasted her, too.” John’s mouth fell open even as it began to water. “God, I wager she was sweet.” Henry gave him a small smile. “Quite.” “Tell me what your plan was, Henry. Did you think to take her to that pile of rocks and despoil her?” “Ha, you are one to talk. Had she remained under the same roof with you for another sennight her maidenhead would be a memory.” John suspected that as well but he wouldn’t give Henry the satisfaction of acknowledging that fact. “She has no fortune.” “I am well aware of her circumstances.” “They don’t matter a whit to me, but they should to you. Your brother will inherit, that is if he doesn’t succumb to the pox first,” he told Henry. “That leaves you with little to recommend yourself.” Henry’s cheeks reddened. “I shall have my living.” “And you believe that is enough for Catherine? The girl is not hunting a fortune to be sure, and she was certainly not born to one. Yet she carries herself like a lady. I can give her everything.” Henry stared at him for a beat. “You cannot mean you’ll marry her. You?” “I am not the boy I was at school,” John said. “I don’t know quite what I feel for Catherine, but it is something I’ve never encountered.” “The same is true for me,” Henry admitted with a frown. “The solution is before us, then.” “What do you propose we do?” “We shall each court her. It shall be up to Catherine whom she gifts with her heart as well as her body.” Henry appeared to consider John’s words, and then he nodded. “I suppose I have no choice.” John grinned. He couldn’t help it. “None whatsoever.”

He might not have a crumbling castle to enthrall Catherine’s fantasies, but he’d endeavor to give her enough reason to explore each and every one of them with him.

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Chapter 6 To Henry’s surprise the general did not take as much convincing as he’d feared. He’d gotten the notion in his head that Catherine was an heiress to as large a fortune as Isabella Thorne and readily agreed to have the two ladies and John visit at the abbey. He’d hinted that Isabella would be a fine choice as a bride but Henry wouldn’t speak to that possibility. He wanted Catherine and only Catherine, fortune or no. He didn’t want John there, to be sure. Catherine had already given a bit of herself to that scoundrel, though he had to allow that John didn’t seem to think of her as a conquest. There had been no bragging, not like when they’d been at school. No, back then John had delighted in sharing every nuance of his sexual exploits, from the tightness of the girl’s pussy to her skill with her tongue. His behavior toward Catherine was almost reverent. Oh, he was hot for her, to be sure. His expressions mirrored the looks Henry had a difficult time keeping from his own countenance whenever Catherine was near. It was hunger, pure and simple. Henry arrived at the abbey ahead of the party, to make certain that the staff would be ready to receive his guests. He toyed with the idea of placing Catherine in a room close to his own, but he wouldn’t shame her that way. No, he would place her in the west wing with the Thorne siblings and hope that John had enough honor to keep from visiting her guest chamber. As he walked through the cavernous entry hall he kept a critical eye on the place. Rough stone walls had been plastered over, and partitions built to make the interior feel more like a grand estate home

than a medieval relic. His father was obsessed with appearances. The guest rooms, gardens, and public areas of the house were modernized and much of the general’s money went to keeping it so. There were vast areas of the house and grounds, however, that bore the appearance of the past from which they’d come. Rough and rambling landscape outside the garden walls and the many darkened corridors lit by torches would certainly enthrall her. John Thorne may have a fortune, but Henry had Norrington Abbey. By the time this visit was over, he would have Catherine as well. His three guests arrived late the next afternoon, stepping down from a grand barouche carriage that no doubt conveyed them in comfort on the drive from Bath. He wouldn’t think about the necessary stay at some inn along the route, for that way lay madness. He thanked God for Isabella’s very existence, for John would never do anything to bring shame on his name that would sully his sister’s as well. Where Catherine was concerned, though? He didn’t doubt John would risk anything. Catherine looked a picture as she alighted, her eyes round as she gaped at the imposing edifice of the abbey. She all but ignored John Thorne as he handed her down. “Oh, my!” It was what she’d cried as she came against his mouth, and Henry had to surreptitiously adjust the front of his trousers. “Does the abbey please you?” She nodded. “Henry, it is just as I imagined.” “All hidden chambers and secret passageways?” John asked. “That should please you, Catherine.” Isabella smiled as she climbed down. She wrinkled her nose at the building, and then her eyes sparkled as she apparently took in the size of the structure. “Oh, Norrington Abbey does not disappoint, I daresay.” John snorted. “No, sister. The abbey is all Henry said it was.”

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Henry sensed something in the man’s tone, and it was not jealousy as he’d hoped. It was a sort of speculation. Did he think to seduce Catherine here? In his family home? “Let us go inside,” Henry said, holding his elbow out to Catherine. Still smiling up at the façade, she placed her hand on his arm. Her touch was feather-light, but he felt it like a caress. Perhaps he would employ the secret passageways with her himself. He grew up here, after all. He knew each and every inch of the abbey and would delight in giving Catherine all the intrigue and mystery she desired. “I had the staff prepare refreshments,” he said. “You’ll find that, despite the wild aspect, Norrington is quite civilized.” “Pity, that,” Isabella quipped. John smiled at his sister’s comment and escorted her through the wide entryway. Henry saw the slight frown on Catherine’s face as she took in the smooth plaster walls, imported carpets, and pretty furniture. “It looks a bit like John’s home,” she remarked. Henry looked at her sharply. “When, pray, were you there?” “I went with the elder Miss Thorne when she asked me to be Isabella’s companion.” “Apparently, our aunt has known the Morris family for years, though we had never before met Catherine,” John said. “But we could not be more delighted with her, is that not true, brother?” Isabella asked. John nodded his head. “Quite.” There was a subtext to that single word, one Henry would question him about later. As for now? Now he would share refreshments with the woman he wanted and try his best to ignore the man who wanted her as well. When Isabella claimed fatigue from the trip, Henry took the chance her absence offered. “The housekeeper will show you to your room, Miss Thorne,” he said, pulling on the bell.

Mrs. Slater came at once, interest on her round face. “Yes, Mr. Henry?” “Please show Miss Thorne to her room, Mrs. Slater.” She nodded and led Isabella from the room, leaving Catherine alone with him. And John Thorne, blast it. “Let me show you about the abbey, Miss Morris,” he said to Catherine. John arched a brow and Henry cursed inwardly. “Of course, Mr. Thorne is more than welcome to join us,” he added. “Well, I shall be delighted to see this place.” John looked about and shrugged. “Though I daresay I hadn’t expected such a modern interior.” “The general insists upon it, though only in the public areas, the guest rooms, and the like.” Henry turned to Catherine. “I plan on showing you more than those mundane places, Miss Morris.” Catherine wore that adorable expression of curiosity again, and Henry silently thanked God his father only spent his money where others would see. He would show her, with John Thorne as chaperone unfortunately, just what she craved. Henry led the two of them through the public rooms, the ballroom, the dining room, and back parlors. He showed them the large library and closed door to his father’s study as well as the fine rooms abovestairs. As they neared his father’s wing, he caught Catherine peering down the hallway. What she was looking for, he could guess. There would be no torches and stone floors here, however. Just more modern comforts suited to the abbey’s illustrious owner, at least until one walked past. “What is there, Henry?” she asked, looking toward the darkened place beyond his father’s rooms. Truthfully, he had no notion of what his father did in this farreaching chamber. Frederick had alluded to mischief, but Henry had no desire to know what his father got up to. His past rivaled

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Frederick’s present, if tales told when he’d had too much to drink were to be believed. If he kept a place to meet his paramours at the abbey, Henry didn’t want to know about it. “My father keeps a study here as well,” he answered. “It looks like…” She giggled. “It looks like the hallway to a dungeon.” “Abovestairs?” John asked with a laugh. “Surely such is buried in the bowels of the abbey, Catherine. Dark and dank and just the place to conduct illicit activities.” “Really, Thorne,” Henry said. “Ooh, like my dream,” Catherine whispered. Henry caught what she said, and his mind went back to that time in his carriage. She’d mentioned a dream then as well. “A dream?” John asked. “Do tell me about this dream.” Catherine flushed pink and shook her head. “Can we explore this study, Henry?” “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Come. Let us go out to the gardens before it’s time to ready for dinner.” He waved Catherine ahead of him, but she hesitated. She finally acquiesced, craning her neck to stare back at the darkened hallway as they left his father’s wing. He wouldn’t indulge her in this desire. The last thing he wanted to do was raise his father’s ire where she was concerned. It was enough that once he learned of her financial circumstances he would forbid Henry from seeing her. He watched her lithe body sway as she walked with John in front of him. Let his father declare her unfit. That would do nothing to keep Henry from her. **** Later that night, after dinner and a few hands of cards, Catherine retired to the room the lovely Mrs. Slater had shown her earlier. It was quite nice, freshly decorated and furnished with modern comfortable

fixtures. Disappointment filled her once more. The abbey had looked delightfully gloomy when they’d arrived, so many windows staring down at them where they stood on the drive. What secrets did they conceal? Oh, how she longed to find out! She changed into her nightdress and sat on the edge of the bed. It was soft and lush, as fine as any she’d seen at the Thornes’s or in Bath. She stretched out, staring up at the carved canopy above her. The house was still, no creaking or clanging chains in this part of the house. There were other areas, however. Places in the abbey that beckoned. She sat up. There was one place she would explore tonight. A giggle burst forth and she covered her hand with her mouth. Henry had said there was nothing of interest there. Well, she begged to differ. She’d seen the secretive cast to his features when he’d dismissed her inquiry. “The general won’t be back for a few days,” she told herself, climbing off the bed. She donned her wrapper. “Surely he won’t mind my snooping about his rooms in his absence.” She took a candle from the bedstand and left her room. She could hear John moving about his guest chamber as she crept past. Was he ready for bed as she’d been? Did he wear a nightshirt? She flushed and her body heated. Or did he wear nothing at all? She still felt incomplete after being with him. And with Henry as well. They’d pleasured her, to be sure, but left her craving the ultimate satisfaction. She held her hand up to John’s door. Would he allow her to enter? She fisted her hand. She couldn’t. True, she wanted him as much as she wanted Henry. But that was the crux of the matter. She wanted both of them, not one or the other. Turning her attention to the general’s secret room, she went down the hallways. She passed the family’s rooms on her way and paused before Henry’s door as she had John’s. Shaking her head, she passed his room as well and headed for the general’s wing.

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The air seemed chillier as she passed his rooms. The carpet was worn here, the wall’s rough stone painted but not plastered. It was darker as well, and she felt her skin tingle. What was he hiding? To her surprise the door didn’t squeak as she eased it open. There was a desk within, so perhaps he did use the space as a study. But there was a bedchamber beyond, through a low archway. A large bed sat within, rough-hewn and bare of any draperies. It was dressed with simple linens, and the wood posts were scarred and nicked. A screen and washstand stood in one corner, a chipped bowl and thin towels at the ready. What was this place? Perhaps, despite his cultured bearing, the general longed for more Spartan conditions now and again. There was a sort of raw sensuality to the room, however. It was dim and bare of all but the essentials. A humongous wardrobe stood at one side of the room, which she now noticed had no dressing room of any kind. She crossed to the large piece, trailing her fingers over the dark wood. She set down the candle and looked about, expecting someone to come upon her at any moment. Her heart raced, but she’d come this far. Placing her fingers around each of the hammered metal knobs, she pulled the doors open. Her breath caught at what she found within. Whips and crops and worn leather straps too numerous to count. Thick metal hooks and loops hung beside them, and there were several wooden paddles on the lower shelf. Her body went cold. What was all of this? Did the general have a violent streak? Was that why he kept this room concealed? She closed the wardrobe and turned to the bed once more. Did he utilize this as some sort of torture chamber? She clasped her hand over her mouth. Oh, what would he do to her if he found out she’d discovered his secret? Grabbing up the candle, she fled the room. She didn’t even take care to close the door quietly before all but running away from the general’s wing. By the time she gained her guest chamber, she had to sink down on the bed and will her heart to cease its pounding.

She collapsed on the bed, covering her face with her hands. She should not have come to Norrington Abbey. First there was her illicit desire for two men, neither of whom would ever offer matrimony. And now she’d invaded General Tilman’s private domain! Whips and straps and shackles…What can it all mean? Curling onto her side, she hugged her middle and waited a long time for sleep to take her.

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Chapter 7 Two days later, they sat in the parlor once more. John sat beside his sister, but his eyes were on Catherine. She seemed skittish, not like herself at all. He’d tried to talk to her without the others present, but she’d put him off. There was something afoot and, if Henry wasn’t watching her worriedly as well, he would suspect that their host had achieved what he himself had been unable to since their arrival. To get her alone and take her at last. “The general and my brother should arrive in time to dine with us,” Henry said. Catherine paled, and John nearly went to her. “Catherine, are you all right?” Isabella asked from where she sat beside her. Thank God his sister had such a nosy disposition. “Y–yes,” Catherine stammered. “I felt a chill, is all.” John looked at the hearth where a fire was banked. The evening wasn’t cold in the least, but there was no mistaking Catherine’s trembling fingers. “Perhaps we should have a fire?” “Oh, not on my account,” Catherine said. She licked her lips and looked at Henry. “May I ask you to give my regrets to your father and brother? I’m afraid I have a bit of a headache.” John came to his feet. “Let me escort you abovestairs.” “You do look a bit—” Henry cleared his throat. “As you wish. I’ll have a tray sent up later.” Catherine stood. “Thank you.” She waved John away when he approached her. “Please, stay. Do not worry over me.”

Isabella’s brow furrowed as she watched Catherine leave. When John sat back down she turned to him. “John, Catherine seemed almost afraid,” she said in a hushed tone. “Tell me you did nothing to cause such feelings.” John held himself in check. “You go too far, sister,” he answered. She watched him then smiled toward Henry. “So what has your brother been about in Bath? Escape any delicate situations?” “Isabella!” John said. She waved at him with a laugh. He was beginning to despise being waved away. He studied the doorway where Catherine had last stood, missing her sorely. How could a woman he’d known for scarcely a fortnight affect him so? He craved her, yes. He wanted to see her climax again, wanted to fuck her until she came around his cock instead of his fingers. God, Henry had tasted her. He wanted that as well. But there was more to it than purely sexual interest. He’d felt that enough in his life, to be sure. This was more. What, precisely, he didn’t know. But keeping from her was making his head and his balls ache. “What a dull party,” Frederick Tilman drawled as he entered the room. Henry came to his feet and nodded. “Hello, brother. Allow me to introduce John Thorne and his sister, Isabella. My brother, Captain Frederick Tilman.” John eyed Frederick as they bowed to each other. Dashing and handsome with the practiced air of a ladies’ man, he returned their greetings with a nod then swiftly turned his gaze to Isabella. “Ho, I take back what I said,” Frederick said. “How can a party be considered dull with such beauty about? It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Isabella.” Isabella stared at him like a child eyeing a sweet treat, and John knew he would have more to occupy himself than arranging a tryst with Catherine. He’d have to keep Isabella from ruin with Henry’s brother.

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“Father is taking his meal in his rooms,” Frederick announced. “I daresay we can entertain ourselves in his absence.” Before John could make a comment to that dinner was called and the four of them went into the dining room. The evening was interminably long, peppered with flirtatious and outrageous comments from Frederick and clipped responses and admonitions from Henry. John said nothing and, after begging off from brandy and cigars with the brothers, escorted his sister abovestairs. “What were you thinking?” he asked as soon as they were safely out of earshot. “What are you talking about?” she asked, blinking her lashes. “You cannot fool me, sister. You practically begged the man to bed you.” “Oh, John,” she said, walking into her room before him. “I was merely being polite to one of our hosts.” “Bloody hell you were.” John closed the door. “I won’t have you throw in with the likes of him.” “You are not my father.” John rolled his eyes. “No, that man is blessedly spared from dealing with your antics. Stay away from Frederick Tilman.” She shrugged and turned from him. “Who are you to advise me on such matters, brother? You, who bedded every maid at Cambridge.” “What do you know of it? Besides, I am not that man any longer.” She turned, leaning against the footboard of her bed. “I’ve seen the way you look at Catherine, John. Tell me you don’t want her in your bed.” John wouldn’t answer her on that subject. “I am speaking of you.” “You want her, admit it! And why not, for she is a lovely creature. But Henry Tilman wants her as well.” John raked his fingers through his hair. “We shouldn’t discuss her this way.” “He wants her and you want her. She is torn between you two as well. I’ve seen it.”

He stared at her. “Explain.” “The girl flushes and trembles when either one of you are near her. Tonight’s headache notwithstanding, she wants you both.” He considered her observations. In for a pence…“And what do you propose I do about it?” he asked. “That, dear brother, is for you to decide.” She began to unpin her hair, effectively dismissing him. “As to my affairs? I daresay you have enough to occupy your mind without worrying over me.” He could say nothing more to her at present, so he left her room. He would have to keep Frederick from her if he couldn’t keep her away from Frederick. She had a valid point, however. He had to find a way to make Catherine his own before Henry did. A sickening thought struck him. What if Frederick set his sights on Catherine as well? “I’ll kill him, captain or no captain,” he grumbled. **** “How is your head?” Henry asked Catherine as they walked about the formal gardens. She felt ashamed at her lie of last evening and studied the crushed-stone path beneath her slippers. “Much better, thank you.” “You slept well?” John asked from her other side. She looked at him, seeing the same concern that colored Henry’s features. “Yes, indeed.” They walked on quietly for a few minutes, and Catherine felt her gaze drawn to the wildness beyond the low garden walls. The general obviously paid his gardeners well to keep such a manicured showplace here on the grounds, but it was the untamed woods and brambles that caught her imagination. Little surprise there, she’d wager. “Where is Isabella?” Catherine asked John. “I haven’t seen her since breakfast.”

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“She is seeing to correspondence,” John answered. “Or at least she’d better be,” he added in a low tone. She guessed he worried over Isabella’s interest in Captain Frederick Tilman. It was true the girl talked of little else. “And where are your father and brother?” she asked Henry with trepidation. “Frederick went into the village. My father is going out tonight, so I’m afraid you’ll have another delay in making his acquaintance,” Henry said. She felt the breath at last leave her lungs. Another reprieve, then. She sat on a nearby bench and the two of them flanked her. “That is a shame,” she murmured. “I fear I know very little about you, Henry,” she went on. “Tell me more about your family.” Henry appeared surprised by her question. Truth be told, she was brimming over with curiosity of both her beaux. John watched her closely, but that was just as well. She planned to ask him pointed questions when she was finished with Henry. “Well, you’ve undoubtedly heard about my brother.” The rake and reprobate, she nearly said. “I believe so. Isabella has talked of him nonstop since last night.” “My sister can be foolish, Catherine,” John said. “Surely you have come to that conclusion in your months with her.” Catherine smiled. “Isabella is excitable, but I’ve never met such a warm and generous young woman. She and your aunt have both made me feel quite at home.” John smiled. “Isabella dotes on you as well.” Henry cleared his throat. “My father you’ll meet tomorrow, I’m certain. He is a…singular gentleman.” “That is putting it mildly,” John said with a smile. “I’ve seen him about. I daresay his gaze could freeze a man’s bits.” Catherine blushed as she hid her smile. “I’ve come to know your aunt, John. What were your parents like?”

“My parents were kind, I suppose. My father, Aunt Beatrice’s brother, was stern, but I was scarcely home to worry over that.” “John and I knew each other at Cambridge,” Henry offered. She looked at Henry in surprise. “Oh, then you can tell me about his behavior there!” “He cannot,” John said. “I was a lad, Catherine. Concerned with only my own pleasures.” She was correct, then. He was a reformed rake. “Then tell me of Henry’s.” John’s eyes danced and he leaned close to her. “Henry was diligent in his studies and quite dull indeed.” Henry shrugged off the backhanded compliment. “I do not deny it. Now, however, I find my interests lie in places other than books.” They seemed to communicate something between them. Henry’s meaning couldn’t be clearer, as his gaze ran over her form. She wriggled on the bench, her body hot for his touch once again. She had but to close her eyes to recall the amazing pleasure he’d given her with his mouth. John looked at her as well, his hazel eyes dark. “You know, Catherine,” John mused aloud. “For the first time in our acquaintance Henry and I are of like mind.” He touched her hand, stroking slowly over her palm as Henry moved a bit closer. She was deliciously trapped between the two of them, and her traitorous body reveled in their closeness. She could smell them over the perfume of the tamed and trimmed rose bushes. Fresh and spiced, rich and tempting. When Henry took her other hand she nearly threw herself at both of them. “What are you about, John?” She swallowed and licked her lips. “Henry, we’re in your father’s garden.” They both smiled, and then John brought his mouth to hers. “Kiss me, Catherine.” She opened her mouth to his tongue, tasting deeply of his passion. He held her close, his chest hard against her breasts until she ached.

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Henry stroked his fingers over her neck, her throat, as John devoured her. Whimpering, she pulled away. “Oh, your kisses!” Henry turned her to him. “What of mine?” She blinked. “You’ve never kissed me. Oh, Henry you cannot mean…that!” He grinned then kissed her as John had. His kiss was different, softer than John’s but just as delectable. She gave herself up to him as John edged his hand beneath her skirts. He touched her, and she jumped. “Oh, you mustn’t!” She was flustered from their kisses and caresses and knew she must stop. “This isn’t right. Oh, I am a wanton.” “You are not,” John said, reaching out to take her hand. “You wanted to kiss us both, did you not?” She hung her head. “Yes, to my utter shame.” Henry gaped at her. “Catherine…” She wanted to jump on both of them, to sit on Henry’s lap and feel that compelling shaft of his right up against her pussy. She wanted to caress John to her heart’s content and feel his intimate kiss on her flesh as well. “I must go,” she breathed, surging to her feet to run from the gardens. She heard them calling to her, heard their footsteps on the pathway, but didn’t stop. She had to get away, both from them and her feelings for them. She couldn’t go to Isabella about her desires, that was certain. John was her brother after all, and she was as virginal as Catherine. Or as Catherine would be for a short while any way. She knew she would surrender her virginity to one or the other before this visit was over. There was no denying that inevitability. She gained the library and tucked herself into a corner. What was she to do? She couldn’t choose, for both men seemed to want her as she wanted them. She couldn’t have both of them. She recalled the sensation of Henry’s mouth on hers as John caressed her. The

combination was intoxicating. In her fevered dreams she’d been loved by the two of them. Could she have them both? “Oh, I will be completely and utterly ruined,” she murmured. What alarmed her was the realization that the prospect didn’t fill her with apprehension. No, she craved the pleasure they promised in their eyes, their touch. Perhaps there were worse ways to lose everything. And she just might gain something she’d never dared consider before. Happiness, no matter how brief.

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Chapter 8 Henry stood in the front parlor with John and Frederick. His brother was already deep in his cups, a common occurrence when at the abbey. Henry hadn’t had the chance yet to speak with John about what had happened in the gardens. Catherine had kissed both of them, with equal ardor if his suppositions were correct. John had nearly touched her beneath her pretty skirts. Had he thought to pleasure her right there? The idea intrigued him as much as it outraged him, however. Her kiss, the first he’d tasted despite their passion of that day in Lansdown, was just as sweet after her kissing John. She was the same responsive girl as that afternoon, but now there was an element of sensual awareness he’d not sensed before. Did John see that, too? “So what are you about, Thorne?” Frederick asked. “Still rutting your way through the girls?” John bristled. “No. After my parents’ passing I find there is more to occupy my time.” “Pity.” Frederick laughed. “We could have gone into the village and had a go at it together.” He waved at Henry. “My brother would be scandalized so we would just leave him here with the ladies. Perhaps he could work on his needlepoint or color a screen.” “Never mind,” Henry said. He poured John and himself each a brandy. “As John said, there is more to consider than momentary satisfaction.” “Momentary?” Frederick laughed again. “Oh, you are surely doing it incorrectly if that is your opinion on matters, eh, Thorne?”

John shrugged. “Your brother may have the right of it,” he told Frederick. “Finding the right girl may be far better than finding the girl of the moment.” Frederick shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me which girl I find as long as she’s willing to suck my cock and let me fuck her any way I wish. Have you taken a girl in the ass?” John reddened. “I am not without experience,” he said in a clipped tone. Henry blinked. In a girl’s ass? He’d never considered that. There was a lot that he could learn from John, apparently. And his brother, though he couldn’t stomach the thought of taking his jibes along with the lessons. “So where is this pretty companion I’ve heard tell about?” Frederick asked. “Catherine Morse, I believe?” “Morris,” John and Henry said at the same time. Frederick stared for a moment then grinned. “Ho! It’s like that, is it? Both smitten with her, are you? Perhaps I should have a go at the chit.” “You will not,” Henry said. “Catherine is a guest here.” “Catherine is little more than a servant, Henry,” Frederick said. “A nobody. Why, if the both of you want her you should both fuck her. She is in no position to demand matrimony from either one of you.” John looked as though he wanted to smash Frederick’s face. “Don’t speak of her that way.” “Thorne, come on! You’ve shared a wench before, haven’t you?” “Yes, but that is immaterial.” “You have?” Henry asked. John gave a quick nod. “Catherine is not to be trifled with, Captain. I trust you get my meaning?” Frederick stood straight, obviously attempting to intimidate John. To his credit, John did not back down.

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Frederick snorted. “Fine. But what of my brother’s interest? Will you meet him at dawn?” “Frederick, that is preposterous,” Henry said. “Of course it is,” his brother agreed. “You would end up with a bullet through your heart. Thorne’s a crack shot, as I recall.” “First you impugn Henry’s manhood and then his shooting skills?” John asked. “It is badly done of you.” “I can do what I like in my house,” Frederick snapped. “My brother doesn’t have the ballocks to stand up to me or our father, so perhaps it is a good thing you’re here.” “John, you don’t have to defend me.” Henry stood and crossed to Frederick. “Tell me you will stay away from Catherine.” “Who is the chit to me? I’ve never even seen her.” “That is not an answer, brother.” Frederick waved a hand. “Fine. I’ll leave the girl to you and your friend there.” He tossed back his drink and poured himself another. “I daresay you’re good for him, Thorne. Perhaps you can make him a man where I and my father have failed.” John’s eyes boggled at Frederick’s words. “How can you speak to your brother so?” “Brothers are different from sisters,” Frederick said. “Speaking of which, is your sister spoken for?” “Don’t think to try a seduction, Captain. I wouldn’t wait until dawn to settle matters,” John said. Henry watched the exchange. If he’d doubted John’s assertion that he’d changed since school, he did no longer. Here was a man of honor and familial duty, not to mention someone who could become a good friend under the right circumstances. Their rivalry over Catherine would need to be settled and soon. But for now it was nice to have someone at his back. Someone who truly acted like a brother. “Well, I am off for bed.” Frederick drained his glass again and set it down. “I believe father engaged several new maids since I was last

home. Perhaps I’ll show one of them the best manner of cleaning.” He grinned. “On her knees.” “Goodnight,” John said as Frederick walked out the door. He turned to face Henry. “How have you not planted him a facer? My God, how I wanted to.” “I as well,” Henry admitted. “How dare he speak of Catherine.” John let out a breath and settled back down in his chair. “He doesn’t know Catherine, Henry. He was speaking generally.” “No matter. She is not a nobody.” “So you have feelings for her?” “Yes. From the moment I saw her, I had to learn more about her. I know her circumstances, John. They are not ideal.” “She is my ideal, however.” “And mine.” Henry was quiet for a moment. “What Frederick said, John. About both of us wanting her. That is true, is it not?” John nodded, twirling his glass in his hands. “You know, I have never wanted a woman like I want Catherine. She is sweet and spirited and I find I can’t stop thinking about her.” “Do you suppose we could…” Henry couldn’t put his question forth. “No, it is too much.” “Both take her, you mean? We could, but she is a virgin. We would have to be certain.” “Certain of what?” “Her feelings, Henry. Her plans for her future.” Henry studied the carpet for a long moment. “I wish I could marry her.” “You cannot even present her to your father, not really.” “True. He is worse than Frederick in that regard.” He looked John in the eye. “Thank you for defending her. And me as well.” “I’ve met many men like your brother,” John said. “Hell, I wasn’t much different back at school. But I am different now. I won’t let your brother or your father shame Catherine, in word or deed. Depend upon it.”

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Henry gave a slow nod. “But what of loving Catherine, John? Do you truly believe she would agree?” “She is sensual and giving, that’s evident. She delighted in both our kisses in the garden.” “Sex is a far cry from kissing,” Henry said. John cocked a brow. “You ate her. I daresay that’s a far cry from kissing. Hell, I fingered her and made her come, too. Do you think her body will not welcome us?” Henry had to give voice to his main concern. “She only has her virtue, John. Will you make an honest woman of her?” John met his gaze, all humor gone from his expression. “I care for Catherine. I find her sweet and delightful and can think of no greater pleasure than having her in my life forever.” “But marriage?” John shrugged, losing his serious air. “If that’s what it takes to keep her, yes. God knows my family will offer no protest.” Henry knew that was not the case with his father. “Then you should take her.” “Alone?” He shook his head. “No. She wants you, too. I couldn’t take a wife who longs for another as well. Besides, I’ve come to enjoy your company, Henry.” “What are you saying?” John appeared thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not certain, but let’s not put the cart before the horse. We’ll let Catherine lead us in this.” He came to his feet. “Well, I am for bed,” he said, setting his glass down. He smiled. “And not to fuck an unsuspecting housemaid, either.” Henry laughed, the tension leaving his body. “Goodnight.” He sat alone after John left, mulling over all they’d discussed. Did Catherine truly want to give herself to both of them? He didn’t know if they could truly have her forever, but there was a chance that they could at least come to a gentlemen’s agreement on the matter.

Amazing, but the thought of both of them loving her caused a heightened awareness he’d never experienced. John hadn’t known Catherine any longer than Henry, yet he seemed to have the same regard for her. She was a singular girl, to capture such interest through no apparent guile or design. Perhaps that was what drew the two of them to her? He drained his glass and stood. If he had any chance to keep Catherine in his life he had to throw in with John. John could marry her. Surely if he takes her he’ll want her forever. Well, Henry might not have the freedom to marry her, but he would do his damnedest to be a part of whatever future would unfold for the three of them. **** Catherine was in the darkened corridor again, but she was fully awake this time. Her disgrace in the gardens was on her mind all evening, and she couldn’t sleep. The general was no doubt still out on his mysterious calls so she took the opportunity to more fully explore his shameful store of straps and shackles. Something drew her to them, the same fascination she felt for John and Henry. The leathers and metals appeared well maintained, but then again the general was a military man. Didn’t weapons receive meticulous care as well? She eased past his formal rooms and headed for the dark and gloomy chamber. Sounds reached her, low and guttural. Her skin prickled and flushed goose pimples. When she heard a softer wail, undoubtedly feminine in origin, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose. With a trembling hand, she reached for the thick wooden door barring the entry of the ancient private chamber. The door was as silent as before, the iron hinges well oiled. Her breath caught at the scene within. A naked, young woman was pinned to the high bed, her body lit by a large branch of candles. She was on her back, her head lolling

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over the foot of the bed. Her legs were pulled apart, her breasts pointing toward the ceiling. As shocked as she was by the naked woman, she could scarcely believe what the other two occupants of the room were about. Captain Frederick Tilman pounded between her outstretched legs, his arms braced on either side of her. He grunted, and she cried out. “Hush, maid,” Frederick said. “Fuck her harder, Captain,” said the other man, his back to Catherine. He was as naked as the other two, standing still with his hands in fists at his sides. He was as strongly built as Frederick, his dark hair shot with silver. “Harder.” “Yes, General,” Frederick said. Catherine swallowed a gasp. The girl moaned, arching as much as her restraints allowed. Her eyes widened as the general stepped closer. “Suck me, wench.” Catherine heard a slurping sound, but he blocked her view of the girl. She leaned to one side and discovered the older man moving his shaft in and out of the girl’s mouth. Her eyes were closed in what could be pain but what she suspected was pleasure. Frederick kept up his movements, causing the girl’s body to buck as the older man continued to move between her lips. “Take his cock deep, maid,” he panted. “Make the general come.” She moaned again then arched sharply. The general shuddered, throwing his head back as he let out a bellow. Frederick quickened his pace, finally driving deep as he shouted his completion. The three of them were a trembling mass of sexual satisfaction. Before they could notice their spectator, Catherine eased her way out of the chamber, her pulse pounding and her body filmed with sweat. She didn’t stop until she reached her guest chamber. Collapsing against her door, she concentrated on breathing slowly until her heartbeat at last slowed. She pushed away from the door and flung herself on the bed, replaying the image of the three lovers in her mind.

At first she’d been afraid for the girl, until she saw the passion etched on her face. Frederick was so determined, driving into her pussy again and again while she sucked the general’s cock. In a flash she imagined herself as the girl, John moving between her legs as Henry found his pleasure in her mouth. Her body flushed for a different reason now, her pussy throbbing as her breasts grew heavy. Would such a thing be possible? Would her two men agree to love her together? She flipped over onto her back, blowing her hair out of her face. She feared she was doomed by her desires and her circumstances. Yes, they enjoyed kissing her. And touching and licking her, truth be told. That afternoon on Lansdown was the most pleasure she’d ever experienced. There was the pesky matter of her virginity, however. The heroines in the gothic novels she read never seemed to worry of such matters. No, the moment they surrendered their dark heroes always took them to wife. Although the surrendering itself was always cloaked in euphemisms, Catherine knew he’d had her. Put his cock in the lady’s pussy until she’d climaxed like the maid had tonight. “What do you want, Henry?” she whispered. “Do you wish to take me forever, John?” She may never have the answers to those questions, but there was something she would have despite any apprehensions any of them harbored. She would know passion with the two men she desired. If she ended her life alone, a burden on her poor family, she would have the passion of this summer to sustain her.

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Chapter 9 John paced about the guest chamber, breathing in Catherine’s sweet orange scent. Dinner had been long and drawn out, due to General Tilman’s officious manner and edicts. Frederick was his father’s mirror while Henry had appeared as uncomfortable as John had felt. His sister had been subdued for once in her life, obvious awe on her features whenever the general deemed her worthy of conversation. As for Catherine? Catherine had kept her gorgeous eyes on her plate and her pretty mouth closed. Two days had passed since their all-too-brief interlude in the gardens. Since then Catherine had kept herself from his company and, according to Henry, from his as well. Whenever he’d entered a room she’d vacated in a flash, claiming some errand or occupation for Isabella. His sister neither confirmed nor denied any of the girl’s assertions, her eyes sparkling as she took in the discomfort and befuddlement he’d attempted to conceal. The sound of the door latch made him turn. Catherine walked in, escorted by Henry. She stopped when she spied him within. “John?” She looked back at Henry, her brow furrowed. “Henry, what is going on?” Henry closed the door and crossed to John. This was as they’d planned this afternoon, while Catherine had been helping Isabella with her correspondence. Frederick had boasted of his night with the maid and the general after dinner, which had only served to fuel their own fantasies with Catherine. Henry’s brother had no notion of what he’d started with his careless words, but now being together with Catherine was all John and Henry could talk about.

“Catherine,” John said on a breath. “Perhaps now you will speak with us?” She blinked then turned to Henry. She shrugged and faced John. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, John.” He scoffed then nodded to Henry to close the door. “Come here, Catherine.” He beckoned her closer. “I believe we three have a matter to discuss.” Her eyes rounded and she sucked in a breath through her parted lips. By the spread of pink across her smooth cheeks John could tell she was anxious. And eager, if the way those eyes ran over both him and Henry was any indication. “D–discuss?” she stammered. She started when Henry took her arm and led her to sit on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know what the two of you want from me.” “Don’t you?” Henry asked. John saw the intent on his new friend’s face, and he began to believe this could work. “The other day in the gardens, Catherine,” John began as he settled beside her on the bed. “That day at Lansdown, when I touched you and made you come.” She glanced down. “John, please.” “And after,” Henry said, sitting on her other side. “When I licked your pussy and made you scream.” She trembled between them. “I know what happened.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t know what I am.” “What you are?” John asked. “Well, I know. Henry knows as well.” “You are the woman we both want, love,” Henry said. She lifted her head, her eyes bright. “You both want me?” She swallowed. “Together?” John let out a laugh. “Yes. We’ve discussed this, Catherine. It’s all we’ve talked about since coming to Norrington Abbey.” “I’ve dreamed of this,” she murmured.

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He looked at Henry in confusion, but the other man just grinned. “You told me a bit of your dreams, love. Right before you came so sweetly against my tongue.” John began to unlace her dress as Henry removed her slippers. “You must tell me about this dream,” he said, dropping a kiss on her delicate nape. “Was I in the dream?” “There were two of you loving me,” she confessed on a whisper. Henry looked at John again then nodded. “Tell us what you want, Catherine.” He came back up and cupped her face in his hands. “We’re both here now, and we want you so much.” She looked from one to the other, nibbling her lower lip. John could almost hear his heart pounding as she considered the most important decision in their lives. This was no longer about a sexual romp with a willing wench. This was what John wanted more than the breath in his lungs. He wanted to take her, to love her with Henry until the three of them were sated. “What I want?” she asked softly. “I want both of you.” John felt a smile split his face as he hurriedly rid her of her dress. The laces on her stays posed a bit of a hindrance, but Henry helped, and soon she was splayed on the bed. She was as beautiful as he’d imagined. She was slight, her waist narrow. Her hips were rounded however, and her legs shapely. Ah, her breasts, those lovely, pinktipped breasts which he’d only glimpsed before, beckoned, and he closed his mouth over one nipple. “John!” she cried, arching sharply. Henry stood and stripped with more speed than he would have guessed possible and it was with some hesitation that John released her nipple to tug off his own clothes. He regarded Henry for a moment, seeing his own arousal blatantly mirrored there. His cock was straining toward Catherine as his own was. New friend or no, John wanted to be the first to fuck her. He wanted to be the first to feel her come around his shaft instead of his fingers.

“Taste me again, Henry,” Catherine said, lifting her legs as she parted for him. “Like before.” Apparently, Henry didn’t need more encouragement. He fell on her and licked her pretty little pussy, a look of bliss crossing his face. “So sweet,” he rasped. John returned to her breasts, kissing first one then the other. He licked and sucked her flesh as he memorized her taste and texture. Henry had the right of it. She was sweet all over, and he only wanted more. He lifted his head, studying her face as Henry drove her toward climax. She let out a whimper and grabbed one of his hands. “Touch me, John!” He cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples. They were still wet from his tongue, and the friction seemed to drive her over the edge. He saw her tremble as she neared the precipice then tumbled over with a cry as Henry groaned in obvious sexual frustration. Henry came up on his knees, poised to plunge deep within her. “Not tonight, Henry,” John said. He looked almost wild, an expression he’d never seen on his face before. “John, I…” He nodded. “I got to taste her again. You can take her.” John nearly shouted out with relief. He searched Catherine’s face as she recovered from her orgasm. “Oh, Henry.” She let out a breath and opened her eyes. “John.” “Yes, love?” he asked. “Let me see your…” She blushed, her eyes running over him. “My what, Catherine?” he asked. “Your cock,” she whispered. He came up on his knees. She studied him and he began to ache. His balls were tight, and on the head of his cock a drop beaded with need. “What do you think?” She smiled and he nearly burst. “It’s lovely.” “What of mine?” Henry asked, a smile in his voice.

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She flicked her gaze at Henry’s cock and gave a nod. “Yours is pretty, too.” Henry let out a strangled laugh and rolled away from her. “It’s killing me, love, but John will take you now.” “Take me?” she asked. He eyes grew round again and she clasped her hands. “Oh, yes!” John nearly spilled on the linens but he was damned if he’d waste this chance. He moved between her legs and eased inside her, bracing himself as he met resistance. Wet heat clutched at him, pulling him forward. She whimpered again, and Henry nuzzled her throat, her ear. “Easy, love.” “Hold on, Catherine.” John burst through and it was as if she’d been made for him. With little more than a gasp she was soon arching toward him, meeting every thrust as he plunged in and out of her tight pussy. His control, that lauded rein he held on his passions slipped, and he shuddered as his climax took him. He poured himself inside her, sealing his fate as sure as if he’d posted banns at every church in the county. She would be his. He caught his breath and glanced over at Henry. He was kissing her now, praising her. In that moment John knew matters had changed. She would never be just his mistress. Nor could she be a brief sexual interlude for Henry. No. She was everything. And he would do everything in his power to keep her with them forever. **** Henry watched Catherine regain herself but noticed that John took much longer than she. He looked stunned. He’d fucked her thoroughly, brought her to pleasure before coming himself. Yet the expression on his face was intensity personified. “Oh, my,” Catherine sighed. “Henry, will you take me now?”

God, how he wanted to. He’d given her an orgasm, tasted her sweet and tangy cunt again, and he ached to bury himself to the hilt. John had been gentle with her. He’d seen that despite the wild hunger on the man’s face. But he knew he’d have to wait to feel her clench around his cock. “No, love,” he said, cradling her in his arms. “You were a virgin. I cannot take you right after John broke through your maidenhead.” John looked at him then nodded. “Henry has the right of it.” Her brow furrowed, and she eyed his swollen cock. “Do not look at me like that,” he bit out. “You need release, too, Henry,” she said. “What can I do?” Suck me deep into your mouth. “Nothing.” “Stroke him, Catherine,” John said. “Like I did to your pussy on Lansdown Hill.” She came up on her knees, her expression as pert as her beautiful breasts. “Show me.” John laughed softly. “I’ll tell you. I am not touching Henry’s cock, thank you very much.” Henry managed to laugh as her hand neared him. “Take him in your hand, love,” John said. Henry sat back on his heels as she wrapped her small fingers around his shaft. “Like this?” Her grip was surprisingly firm, her hand warm and soft around him. He nodded. “Stroke him,” John said, his voice low. She moved her hand up and down his shaft as his balls grew heavier. “Like this?” she asked again. He closed his eyes and leaned back slightly. “God, yes.” She stroked him, long, slow movements that made his cock throb. He moaned and began to thrust against her palm. “Come for me, Henry,” he heard her say. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He came with great spurts in her hand, calling out her name. When he opened his eyes he found

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both Catherine and John smiling at him. His cum was spread across her smooth belly, pooling in her little navel. John used his neck cloth to wipe her clean while Henry slowly regained his senses. “Her hand,” he mused aloud. “I can imagine how hard you came in her pussy.” “Henry!” she gasped. John grinned. “You have no idea what you’re in for, friend.”

Chapter 10 Catherine sat in the formal gardens, blessedly alone. Isabella had spoken of nothing but Frederick all morning, and if Catherine had to listen to one more sonnet to the captain’s eyes or hair or physique she was going to scream. She knew she herself had been smiling like a bedlamite since she’d awoken this morning and it was only a matter of time before Isabella finally looked at her. However would she explain the silly expression on her face? Oh, what they’d done to her! Henry, with that gifted tongue of his stabbing at her. John, with that big cock of his deep inside her pussy. And then she’d brought Henry to climax herself! With her hand, true. But it was amazing to see what John’s cock had undoubtedly been like deep inside of her. She’d wanted Henry to take her as well, but after a good night’s sleep she’d woken a bit sore and knew her men had the right of it. More than likely, if she’d taken Henry’s lovely cock inside of her she wouldn’t be able to walk today. What if she put her mouth on his cock next time? The general seemed to enjoy the maid’s lips on him. Perhaps she could ask John or Henry if they would like it as well. “What are you about, out here all alone?” a masculine voice drawled. She looked up to find Frederick strolling toward her. She couldn’t help but picture him as she’d seen him in the secret chamber, naked and thrusting into the maid’s willing body. Now that she’d seen her men naked she knew the captain had nothing on either John or Henry. Henry was a bit leaner than John, but they were both so beautifully wrought she’d nearly cried when they’d disrobed. Just the memory of

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their strong shoulders, their muscled arms and legs, their broad chests swirled with hair, all combined to make her want them so much she ached even today. “Good afternoon, Captain,” she said with a nod. He inclined his head. “I believe you’re a paid companion to Miss Thorne. How did you escape your duties today?” She bristled at his comments but managed to hold her countenance. “Miss Thorne allowed me a bit of a reprieve this afternoon.” “What of her brother, then?” He smiled then sat close to her. “Or mine, for that matter?” She pursed her lips. She would not speak of either gentleman with him. “Was there something you needed, Captain?” He shrugged. “I’m afraid I’m at sixes and sevens. The general has gone to a house party and won’t be back until tomorrow. I find myself with little to occupy myself on my own.” She felt her face heat at his words. He couldn’t know she was aware of just what sort of mischief he and his father got up to together. In her mind she saw them again, naked as the day they were born and both having their way with the maid. His smile turned oily as he ran his gaze over her. “I can see what Thorne and my brother see in you.” She came to her feet. “If you will excuse me?” He didn’t rise as she did, not that she needed more proof that he was no gentleman. She turned and walked quickly away from him. How could Henry and this man come from the same parents? Frederick was the very image of his father, in look and deed. Henry must be more like his late mother. That poor woman. No doubt the general had bedded the maids right in her own home! She froze on the staircase. Had Frederick thought to bed her? She might be nothing more than a paid companion at present, but she was not a servant. She was surely not prey for the captain or his father.

She belonged to only John and Henry, and she would never think to lay with any other men. Frederick’s words struck her. The general would be away this evening? That would leave his compelling chamber unoccupied. A delicious notion struck her. Would John and Henry want to make use of the general’s leather and shackles? She had to think of the best way to make the suggestion. Giggling, she blushed again. She’d only lost her virginity last night and here she was, already anticipating exploring more delights with the two of them. **** “Capital idea, love,” John said. He turned to Henry. “Did you know about this place?” Henry shook his head. “I know my father and Frederick seem to talk in code now and again. Now I realize what they spoke of in cloaked terms.” Catherine stood trembling in the darkened chamber, her every nerve stretched taught. She wore her nightdress, but her men were still dressed. Pity, that. Henry eyed the large bed as John crossed to the wardrobe. He pulled the doors open and let out a low whistle. “Your family is twisted.” Henry joined him, his eyes wide. Catherine could guess what he was thinking. No matter. Her attention returned to the cuffs tethered to the bedposts. She longed to give herself over to her men and had no desire to wait a moment longer. “You’ll take me tonight, Henry,” she said softly. Henry turned to her. “I will, indeed.” “I daresay the whips and paddles have seen some use.” John closed the doors with a click and faced her and Henry. “The straps, however? I have no problem using them on your wrists and ankles, if

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that is what you desire.” At her eager nod he turned to Henry. “What do you say, Henry?” Henry fingered the thick leather. “They are supple and soft. No wonder I’ve never noticed marks on any of the maids.” His words brought the image she’d stumbled upon once more before her mind. She stretched out on the bed, leaning up on her elbows. “What are you waiting for?” John laughed and Henry blinked. They were soon naked at last, their cocks standing at blessed attention. Coming up on her knees, she drew her nightdress over her head and stretched out on the bed again. “Henry, you take her wrists.” John ran his hands over her legs, teasing her skin. “I’ll take her ankles.” Her breath caught as they fastened the cuffs on her wrists and ankles. She was completely at their mercy and she could not wait to see what they did to her. Henry traced his fingers over her belly, her ribcage, finally circling her breasts. Her nipples pebbled, and he leaned down to slowly lick one. “Ah, your taste.” He closed his mouth and began to suckle. Sharp wanting stabbed her from her breasts to her center. “Henry!” John’s fingers trailed up from her cuffs to stroke so close to her pussy. Her skin prickled and her legs clenched. “Do you want us, Catherine?” he asked. It was what he’d asked in her dream, when she’d had no idea who held her from behind. She felt her pussy swell, her juices flooding her. “Oh, yes.” John climbed up on the bed and settled between her thighs. “Henry has spoken of your pussy’s flavor, love.” He kissed her inner thigh so close to her damp curls she nearly screamed. “I have to taste it myself.” Henry licked and fondled her breasts as John began to eat her. It was like Henry’s kisses yet different. John was determined to make

her come, that was obvious. His tongue stabbed deep inside her, making her long for his cock. “John, please.” She gasped. “Please.” “I could eat you all night,” he said, his voice low. “Make her come,” Henry breathed. “Do you want that, Catherine?” John asked. He licked her clit with the edge of his tongue. “Do you want to come?” “Desperately!” she cried. He sealed his mouth to her pussy then. Sucking, licking, nibbling until she could concentrate on nothing but his tongue and Henry’s mouth. She could scarcely move her arms or legs, tantalizingly trapped by the cuffs. She made the tiniest movements, but it was enough to send her over the edge. She cried out as she came, trembling in her restraints. Before she could do more than catch her breath John drove his cock deep inside of her. She felt full, stretched, and it was marvelous. “Take me, John!” He grunted in answer, hastening his thrusts. “What of Henry?” he bit out, holding himself up to grind his pelvis against her swollen clit. “Do you want him, too?” She nodded, so close to climax she could hardly breathe. “In my mouth, Henry!” He released her nipple with a tug then straddled her waist. She didn’t know quite what to do, but she’d seen the maid suck the general’s cock. How difficult could it be? Henry eased close to her, and she wrapped her lips around the tip of his cock. “Christ!” he cried. She sucked hard as John plowed her pussy. Soon Henry moved in accord with him, in and out of her mouth until she began to taste something different on her tongue. It was remarkable, and she licked him. He shouted his release, flooding her mouth with the salty cream. She swallowed then lost herself in another climax. John buried

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himself deep inside and shuddered, filling her as Henry had filled her mouth. John continued to move however, easy now as he reached down to touch her aching clit. She came again as she pulled at her restraints. “You are amazing,” Henry murmured, dropping down to kiss her lips. “Indeed,” John said on a breath. He pulled out, leaving her feeling decidedly empty, and released her ankles. “This exceeded anything I could have imagined when you suggested this, Catherine.” Henry fell to her side and worked her wrists free. He kissed her palms and drew her close. “Your mouth!” he said. “I had no idea.” “Truly?” John asked, stretching out on her other side. He grasped her chin, running his thumb over her parted lips. “I’ve known that particular pleasure but I daresay our girl’s mouth will surpass any I’ve experienced.” She couldn’t think of anything to say to any of their comments, still lost in the aftershocks of all they’d given her. It had gone so far beyond any of her fevered fantasies and she wished to hold on to this satiated feeling as long as possible. “We had better get you back to your chamber, love,” Henry said. “Blast,” she murmured. He chuckled as he climbed off the bed and handed her nightdress to her. “We’ll set this room to rights.” John helped her up and slipped the garment over her head. He kissed her mouth and smiled. “Go to bed, Catherine. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Fear clutched at her belly. About what, pray? “Talk, John?” He shook his head and urged her toward the doorway where Henry was peering out to make certain no one would see them. “Go to bed,” Henry repeated. She could do nothing more than nod as she slipped from the secret chamber. She could still taste Henry’s passion, could still feel her muscles pull where John’s amazing cock had been buried deep within

her. John said they would talk. She could well imagine what that conversation would entail. She’d given them everything and they had no use for her any longer. **** “Do you believe this, Henry?” John asked as they smoothed the counterpane. “Our girl is remarkable.” Henry shook his head. “I cannot. She gave us everything, John.” John smiled. “You seem surprised. She cares for us, friend. Can’t you see that?” Henry carefully placed the cuffs on the bed as they’d been when they came into the chamber. “Do you think she’ll accept us?” John just grinned wider, and Henry laughed softly. “I mean, forever.” John fell silent, a look of worry on his usually carefree countenance. He’d told Catherine they would talk. Well, they needed to clarify what that would entail. Henry drew in a breath. Catherine’s sweet orange scent still hung in the chamber, and he felt himself grow hard again. “I hope my father and brother never find out about this,” he said as he followed John out of the chamber. “Why? Do you believe they would be shocked by your behavior? After what their own has been?” Henry scoffed. “No. I don’t want Catherine’s reputation sullied, is all. I have little hope they’ll change their opinion of me.” John stopped him in the corridor, his hand on his shoulder. “You are your own man, Henry. Don’t think yourself unworthy of the future you desire.” “And if I want a future with Catherine?” John patted his shoulder and urged him away from his father’s chambers. “If I’m included in that particular future, I daresay you

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have a damn good chance of it. Hell, if we approach our girl in precisely the right manner we can all have the most remarkable life.” Henry felt that shift in his chest again. John was the brother he’d never had, and Catherine was the woman they both wanted. If this were to somehow work out as they desired he would have everything.

Chapter 11 The general finally deemed them worthy of his company at dinner the next night. He sat at the head of the table, an imperious air about him. Catherine hadn’t described what she’d seen in that secret chamber, but John couldn’t look the man in the eye. Yes, he’d shared a wench or two before Catherine. But to include your son in the threesome? It felt…unseemly. Catherine had avoided them, leaving their inevitable conversation unspoken. John again saw that worried expression on her face that he’d glimpsed that morning, though this evening it was more pronounced. He couldn’t wait until this blasted dinner was concluded so the three of them could discuss their futures at last. “I take it you have been continuing your studies,” the general said to Henry, derision in his tone. “Readying for that living?” Henry nodded at his father’s interrogation, keeping his mouth shut. Frederick laughed, elbowing John as he did so. “My brother is so straitlaced he’d never consider anything else.” “Consistency is not a sin, Captain,” John said. “There is something to say about a steadfast character.” If Frederick caught his meaning he didn’t show any indication. He smirked, then turned his attention to Isabella. “What say you, Miss Thorne? Do you find consistency as boring as I?” John’s sister blinked at Frederick, her mouth agape. Evidently, she was still smitten with the dolt. His belly clenched. Let the man think to take her to that chamber with his father. John would gleefully cut the man’s cock clean off with his own sword.

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“Miss Thorne,” the general cut in. “Do tell us how you came to employ Miss Morris.” John started then looked to Catherine. She held herself still but he could read the concern on her face despite her frozen expression. He managed to keep his seat as he leaned forward. “Miss Morris is not precisely an employee, General,” he said. “We have come to regard her as family.” Isabella nodded, sending a fond look in Catherine’s direction. “I would be quite lost without her company.” “I daresay my brother would concur,” Frederick quipped. Catherine bowed her head, obviously unable to look the general or Frederick in the eye. “State your meaning, Frederick,” Henry said. “Not here at the table,” the general said. “Miss Morris, what is your real family’s situation? Can you anticipate any fortune in the future?” “Really, Father,” Henry said. “Catherine’s inheritance is of no concern to you.” “Her lack of one surely is,” Frederick said. “I find the discussion of money in company quite distasteful,” John said. “That is a fine sentiment, coming from a man with considerable money of his own,” the general said. “Your sister has a substantial dowry, I wager?” “General!” John shouted. “I am merely looking after my sons’ interests,” Henry’s father said smoothly. “If she has designs on either of my sons I need to know about her situation.” Isabella gasped. “I have no designs on Henry!” That was a telling statement indeed. Isabella flushed red, looking to Catherine for assistance. As for Frederick, that man dared to look quite smug.

“I am not without an inheritance,” Catherine said, drawing attention from Isabella. The general’s brows shot up and he faced Catherine. “Is that so? How much can you expect?” “That is enough,” Henry said, coming to his feet. “Come, Catherine. Miss Thorne. What say you to a game of cards?” John silently thanked Henry for his support. Isabella was indeed an heiress, but she would throw neither money nor affection on Captain Frederick Tilman if he could help it. As for Catherine taking the cannon fire from the general in his sister’s stead? If he hadn’t loved her already—His lungs seized. He loved Catherine? When the devil had that happened? He surged to his feet. “Henry, a word.” He bowed to the general, ignored Frederick, and looked to the ladies. “Forgive us, but we shall join you in the parlor momentarily.” Isabella exchanged a look of confusion with Catherine, who thankfully lost that haunted expression. They came to their feet and at last the general stood. “I bid you good night, Miss Thorne.” He flicked his gaze in Catherine’s direction but said nothing. The snub was clear but it didn’t seem to affect Catherine. She followed Isabella from the dining room, and the general sat back down to finish his wine. “She carries herself well, I’ll allow,” he said. “High breasts, tight little bottom.” “Father!” Henry cried. John ran at the general and grabbed him by his lapels. “How dare you speak of her that way!” The general fixed a steely gaze on him. “I wasn’t speaking of your sister, Thorne.” He took John’s hands from him. “I was looking at the little companion.” “Miss Morris is not for your perusal, either.” John fisted his hands. “Do not speak of her.”

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The general looked at Henry. “Will you allow your guest to speak to your father so?” Henry fairly shook. “I am too ashamed of what my father said about another of my guests to give him my consideration.” Frederick’s brows shot up, showing a grudging respect. About bloody time. John sketched a quick bow and left the dining room. **** Henry found John in the study, pacing as waves of anger poured off of him. “How dare he speak so of our girl!” “Easy, John. Neither my father nor my brother signify.” John stopped, gawking at him. “Are you mad? You father has the power to rip Catherine’s life to shreds should he so desire.” Henry knew he had the right of it. “My father is a bastard.” “And your brother is no better. Let him attempt to seduce Isabella and I’ll run him through.” He slumped in the nearest chair. “We have to move quickly if we’re going to secure Catherine. I cannot stomach leaving her and my sister at those scoundrels’ mercies, though for different reasons.” “I agree. Let us go to the parlor and see to them both. Then later tonight we’ll tell Catherine our plans.” John stared at him. “What are our plans, pray?” Henry met his gaze. “You’ll marry her. It’s the only way.” John’s brow furrowed, and then he nodded. “And you will come with us to Somersetshire.” He couldn’t say anything to that. John’s offer was more than he could have hoped for, but they would need to discuss the particulars. But not at present. “Come,” he said, going to the door. “I find I need to see our girl.” They played cards with the ladies for an interminable hour before Catherine pleaded fatigue. Henry hadn’t missed her expression, that worry that hadn’t eased since dinner as well as clear desire whenever

she glanced at John or himself. It was little wonder that she declared herself done in when Frederick joined them. Now, a scant half hour later, he and John stood outside of her guest chamber, each ready to give her everything. Sex, of course. Neither one of them could be near her without wanting her. But they’d agreed to give her their hearts as well. Did John truly love her? Henry suspected as much. As for himself, he’d never been more sure of his heart’s desire. They scratched on her door and she pulled it open, an expectant look on her pretty face. She wore her thin nightdress again, and he could see every dip and hollow of her figure. “Henry,” she said on a breath. She smiled at John now. “And John.” John kissed her as he urged her back into the room. “You cannot get rid of either one of us, Catherine.” Henry closed the door tight. “I’m tempted to dare you to try.” She shook her head. “Oh, no. I want you both.” At her admission they fell on her. They rid her of her nightdress and stripped as well. “I want to taste you, John.” “You don’t have to ask me more than once,” John quipped, coming to his knees on the bed. She took him in her mouth and they each moaned in delight. Henry pulled her up onto all fours, stroking her silken skin and teasing her pussy. Her cunt was soaking wet already, the clit swollen, and she lifted her head with a cry of wanting. “Henry!” His cock was ready, her pussy so close, he couldn’t resist the temptation. He stroked his shaft up against her flesh and she arched. “Do you like that?” “Mmm,” she said, her mouth once more on John’s cock. Henry shifted, pushing into her as he gripped her slender hips. Her round bottom was flush against his belly now, her pussy holding him tight. He began to move. She trembled, wriggling her bottom as he thrust. It didn’t take long until he felt the flutters of her orgasm begin.

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She threw back her head as she came, writhing in his grasp. The next moment he came, buried to the hilt as he poured himself inside her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, surprise and satisfaction on her face. “I never knew!” John winced, holding his still-engorged cock. “I did.” He kissed her and waved Henry away. “But there is something else I wish to do.” Henry kissed his way up Catherine’s supple back, finally kissing her mouth. “Are you as intrigued as I?” She eyed John’s cock and began to turn onto her back. “Take me, John.” “Oh, I shall.” He grabbed her ass and pulled her back against him. “But you will need to stay just as you are.” He watched as John stroked her, driving first one then two fingers into her pussy. Her face showed her growing arousal, so close on the heels of the orgasm he’d given her. Then John inserted a finger into her pretty little ass. “Oh!” she cried. “You’re so hot, love,” John said. He pushed his cock into her pussy. “So wet. It won’t take much to ease my way.” Henry could smell her scent and knew she was drenched. John moved in and out of her pussy as he fingered her secret hole. Then he pulled out and sank into her ass. “That is…” She began to shudder. “Oh, that is amazing!” John stroked her deep, slow, until she found release again. He came in the next moment and the two of them collapsed on the bed at last. “In my bottom,” she whispered. “That’s so…naughty.” John murmured something in answer and Henry heard the satiation in his voice. Henry hugged her close as John stroked her back. This was right. This was what had been missing from his life only he never knew it before. What John proposed was what he desperately wanted. And he was damned if he would let his brother or father keep him from the life he desired.

Chapter 12 Catherine knew they would come to her tonight. Dinner had been another abysmal affair as it had last night, with the general once again asking such pointed questions about her family and fortune. She had plenty of the former but pitifully little of the latter. John and Henry each attempted to speak up for her, but between the general’s cutting remarks and Frederick’s snide comments, her lovers had little effect. She sank onto the bed with a sigh. Another horrid evening spent at Norrington Abbey. And to think she had been so excited to come to the ancient estate. The structure was gorgeous and wild on the exterior, changed and modernized within, but both conditions were only on the surface. The general was like the abbey, in her opinion. Stately and grand on the outside yet cold and cruel on the inside. Isabella had continued to stare at Frederick like he was some sort of god, at least she had until the general put her hackles up. That man could test the patience of a saint, as exhibited by Henry’s loss of control at his intrusive questions and derisive glances. Frederick’s open speculation was just as disturbing, however. Perhaps she could talk Isabella into cutting this interminable visit short. Where that left Catherine with her two men, she had no notion. A knock came at the door, sending all thoughts of the general, Frederick, and even Isabella from her mind. She knew it would be her loves. She went to the door and eagerly pulled the panel open. Her breath caught as she found the general looming in the doorway. “General Tilman!” she cried.

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He raked his eyes over her, taking in her thin nightdress. She might as well have been naked for the glint in his eye. That carnal interest turned her stomach. “I can see why Henry pants after you. I daresay your pussy is a tight and tender little thing.” She could say nothing as he strode into the room. “Shut the door,” he commanded. Trembling, she did so. “What do you want?” “Tell me straight out about your circumstances.” She sucked in a breath. There was nothing else for it. “I will inherit next to nothing.” He narrowed those sharp eyes and gave a nod. “Leave the abbey.” She thought she’d heard him wrong. “Pardon me?” “Leave. I shall call for a hack to pick you up and take you back to Bath. Be ready to leave at midnight.” She could not speak, her throat tight and her nerves taut. He turned from her with an air of dismissal, then stilled. “Don’t think to go to Henry about this, Miss Morris. I will not be gainsaid, certainly not by the likes of a grasping girl such as yourself.” He left her and she finally caught her breath. She took in great, gasping breaths that made her head spin. She crumpled to the floor, her head in her hands. Midnight. A mere two hours from now. She lifted her head and studied the closed door. Please come, Henry. Please come, John. They had to come to her and soon. She wouldn’t disclose a word about the general’s edict. What she would do was make the most of her last night with the men she loved. She rose from the floor and began to pack her small satchel with her few belongings. Isabella’s borrowed gowns and assorted undergarments she would leave behind. They weren’t hers and she had no right to take them. Besides, she would have no need for them in Wiltshire. No, she’d help her mother with the younger children and

maybe think of the day when she can be a companion to another wealthy woman or a governess to a wealthy woman’s children. Tears blurred her eyes as she closed the bag. She heard something shift as she set it within the wardrobe and reached beneath her clothes to find the worn copy of one of her gothic novels. Cursing her foolish imagination, she withdrew the book and hurled it across the room. “Bloody fantasies!” What had they gotten her? Nothing. She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes to wipe away her tears but a moment before another knock came at the door. Her heart sped up once again, foolish and eager to meet her lovers. Nevertheless, she rushed to the door and pulled it open, relief warring with the desire in her body as she spied John and Henry in the corridor. “Do hurry,” she said, reaching for John since he was the closest to her and dragging him within. Henry stood in the hallway for a shocked moment before she pulled him in as well. “Catherine!” “I want you both.” She squared her shoulders. “Make love to me. We don’t know how long this will last.” She did, however. Until midnight. John began to disrobe, revealing that delectable body. “I daresay I won’t last much longer.” She let him think she only referred to this particular encounter, not their liaison. So be it. “Then hurry,” she urged again. John sat at the edge of the bed and pulled her onto him until she straddled his thighs. “I want to be in your pussy while Henry takes your sweet bottom, Catherine.” He kissed her lips, her ear, her throat. His cock was hard and insistent against her belly. “Tell me you will like that? Was such a thing possible? “Both of you inside me?” she asked, looking from one to the other. When they nodded she did likewise, letting her head fall back to accept more of John’s kisses. Henry came behind her and fondled her breasts. He pinched and squeezed her nipples, starting a fire that spread over her skin. She

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could feel his cock hot and thick behind her and wriggled her bottom against him. Henry moaned and John bit out a laugh. “Easy, friend,” John said. Henry ran his hands over her bottom, teasing her secret hole with his fingertip. “Please, Henry.” “Not yet,” John said. He flipped her onto her back in one fluid motion and drove his tongue into her pussy. In moments she was soaking wet, nearing the orgasm promised with his every caress. “Yes!” John lifted his head and she bit back a cry of frustration. “No.” Her mind was fuzzy from arousal, her body still throbbing with the need for release. He turned her again, bracing her legs apart. “Use your fingers, Henry. She’s soaked.” Henry drove three fingers inside of her, and the pressure was exquisite. She knew what he would do next but it was still a surprise. His wet fingers penetrated her bottom, followed swiftly by his wonderful cock. John held her hips still as Henry moved in and out of her bottom. She itched for completion, her pussy and clit burning for more of…something. Before she could voice her needs John pressed his cock high and deep into her pussy. She came at once, her pussy and bottom pulsing as she cried out. “Henry, can you feel me?” John asked, his voice harsh. “Yes,” Henry answered. “God, yes. Catherine!” John drove deep as Henry withdrew, and then they reversed the motions until they moved faster and faster. Their bodies slid together, her nipples against John’s sculpted chest and Henry’s ridged belly against her bottom. Squeezing her eyes shut, she threw herself over to their control as she came again. As she lost herself she felt them both begin to climax. Their groans of completion so close to her ears, their words of love and praise so tenderly given, confirmed it. This was what she needed. Both of them loving her so completely she couldn’t think of anything

else. Not her imminent return to Wiltshire. Not the general’s hateful command. No, in this moment there were only the three of them. Pity she would soon be heartbreakingly alone. They left her a few minutes later, but only after she begged them to let her sleep. They kissed her, praised her again, and made her feel even worse about all she was leaving behind. Though she was loath to let them go she knew she had little time to indulge herself if she was going to make the hack the general ordered for her. Once alone she washed as best she could, her body still tender from their diligent attention. After she was dressed, she eyed the book she’d tossed in the corner. She retrieved it, certain she would need the escape once she settled into her horrid, lonely life. Inexorably, her eyes filled with tears once more. Another knock came at the door. “Is there anyone in this house who hasn’t been at my door tonight?” Surely it would be the general, to ascertain her readiness to flee the premises. Resigned, she went to the door and pulled it open again. To her surprise, Isabella stood there. “Catherine, I do not know what to do about this attraction to the captain.” She closed the door and turned, her mouth dropping open as she finally looked at Catherine. “Why are you dressed?” Catherine nibbled on her lower lip, then let out a breath. “I’m leaving, Isabella. First to Bath and then on to Wiltshire.” “But why?” How could she tell her what the general said, what he accused her of? What she’d done with John and Henry this very night? She couldn’t. “It is of no consequence,” she told Isabella. “That is nonsense.” Isabella took her hand. “You’ve been crying, Catherine. Tell me what happened.” Tears coursed down her cheeks now, but she couldn’t admit any of it. “Please, Isabella. If you ever considered me a friend, let me keep my secrets.”

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“A friend?” Isabella drew her into an embrace. “I’ve come to think of you as a sister.” She held Catherine away from her. “Is this about my brother? Has he hurt you?” “John has never hurt me. I don’t deserve—Please don’t press me.” Isabella’s brows drew together, and then she nodded. “I’ll go, but you will stay with Aunt Beatrice in Bath. Promise me that?” She had no place else to go in Bath, so on that point it was easy to capitulate. For how short a time, that was something she wouldn’t divulge to Isabella. “All right.” Isabella hugged her again then left her. Catherine glanced at the clock and saw she had but twenty minutes until the hack arrived. She couldn’t go downstairs, not yet. She would wait until midnight. And then she would leave everything she’d ever wanted behind. **** “I cannot believe she asked us to both take her,” Henry said. John shook his head, holding his glass of brandy but not drinking any. “She is everything I’ve ever wanted, Henry. Tell me you will come with us to Somersetshire.” Henry settled in the chair before the hearth, sipping at his own drink. “What will I do there? I cannot be without purpose, John.” John scratched his chin. “I believe I can use your help in running the estate.” He smiled. “You’re a clever fellow. Act as my steward.” Facts and figures, ledgers and accounts. It suited him. “You would trust me with such matters?” John smiled. “Like one of the family.” “But what of your sister?” “Isabella won’t have to know of our arrangement with Catherine. I daresay she wouldn’t—” “John, you must stop her!” Isabella cried, rushing into the parlor. John came to his feet. “Isabella, what is this about?”

Henry stood as well, crossing to John’s sister. “Are you speaking of Catherine?” His stomach clenched. “What’s going on?” “She is leaving the abbey.” She clasped her hands and stared up at John. “You must stop her!” Henry thought for a moment. “How could she leave? It’s the dead of night.” “I don’t know,” she said. “Her things are packed and she was crying. It nearly broke my heart.” “I daresay it will break mine,” John said. “Come, Henry. There is no way in hell we’ll lose her now.” “We?” Isabella blinked in obvious confusion. “Whatever do you—?” She waved a hand. “I care not about the particulars. Stop her from leaving, Henry. You and my brother care for her, and I know she cares for you both.” Henry rushed out of the parlor, John and Isabella close behind. The clock in the hall was ringing out the midnight hour but he barely noticed. No, it was the small figure sitting on the stairs that drew his attention. Catherine sat, so sad looking with her satchel beside her on the step. “Catherine!” Henry called. She looked up, her startled gaze flitting between him and John, and the love on her face told him everything. Alarm rounded her eyes in the next moment and she came to her feet. “What are you doing here?” “The question is, why are you leaving in the dead of night?” John asked. “Hell, why are you leaving at all?” Henry needed to know. “I demanded it be so,” the general said from the entry. Henry gaped at his father. “What is the meaning of this?” “She has nothing, Henry. I won’t have you marry someone of so low a station, no matter if you’ve already had her.” “Watch your words, General,” John warned.

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“Tell me Henry hasn’t bedded her. Hell, I’m sure you’ve had a taste of her as well.” “How dare you?” Isabella asked. “Catherine is as dear to me as a sister. I won’t have you speak of her so.” The general ran his gaze over Isabella now. “You might have a fortune, dear, but with that waspish tongue I wouldn’t want you as a daughter-in-law, either.” “That is enough,” Catherine said. She stood as tall as her small frame allowed and walked regally toward the general. “Isabella, this is not for your ears.” “It most certainly is,” she countered. Henry didn’t envy John’s task of dealing with his sister once she knew the truth of it all. That was a matter for another time, however, for the general’s face held as dark an expression as Henry had ever seen. If he dared to strike Catherine… “You will not marry my son!” the general said. “You have the right of it for once,” John said. “Catherine will marry me.”

Chapter 13 Catherine gaped at John. “What?” “You would marry this soiled dove?” the general scoffed. “Hardly. Why, had she stayed at the abbey a few more days no doubt Frederick would have had a go at her.” Henry punched his father square in the face. “Do not speak of her so!” His father narrowed his eyes on him as he rubbed his reddened jaw. “At last a man, I see? Yet, you’ll share your woman with another.” “She is not one of your maids, Father.” “You know of that?” the general asked with a raised brow. “That is diverting.” “Catherine is my betrothed, General,” John said. “You shall speak no more of her.” Catherine felt John take her cold fingers in his, but she couldn’t seem to take in all that had happened in the space of five minutes. “Your betrothed?” she whispered. “Oh, Catherine!” Isabella said, coming to hug her. “I haven’t yet…” Catherine closed her eyes and drew in a shaking breath. “How can I marry John?” “I love you,” John said. “You love me. Admit it.” She did, so very much. Looking to Henry, she saw the affection on his face as well. They loved her! “I love you,” she said to them both.

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The general fisted his hands and advanced on Henry. “You will have nothing, Henry. Mark my words. If you leave the abbey I will disinherit you.” “I would expect nothing less,” Henry said. “I am going to Somersetshire with John and Catherine.” Isabella’s face registered her shock. “Henry?” “He will be my steward, sister,” John said. “I find I cannot get along without him.” “Then we are through,” the general said. “Good-bye, Henry.” He turned away then shot his youngest son a rueful smile. “At last you’re a man. I suppose I can take some solace in that fact.” He stalked away, leaving the four of them in the entry. Catherine longed to get them alone and work through the details of this new development, but Isabella was still present. John seemed to catch Catherine’s intent and he smiled at his sister. “Isabella, I would like to speak with Catherine alone.” Isabella hugged Catherine, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “I do not care about anything but the blessed fact that you will be my sister.” She regarded Henry with a tilt of her head. “I take it you wish to speak with the happy couple as well?” Henry colored, and Catherine studied the marble tile beneath her slippers. Isabella left them as well and Henry came to stand close to her and John. “Say you’ll marry John, Catherine,” Henry beseeched. “We both love you and want to be with you always.” Her heart dipped to her belly. “Always?” It was the future she hadn’t had the courage to hope for but craved more than anything in the world. Dare she take what they offered? “You love me,” she said. They nodded and she forged ahead with the most pressing question. “Will you both be happy with only me for the rest of your lives? For I cannot bear to think of the two of you growing tired with me and seeking a new amusement.”

“Amusement?” John took her hand, and she studied his hazel eyes. Love shone there. “I love you. Henry loves you. You are everything we want.” Henry took her other hand, his expression equally sincere. “You are everything we will ever need.” “Oh, I love you both!” She tearfully accepted their kisses and caresses as she sank once more on the stairs. “You’ll marry me, love?” John asked. “Yes!” she cried. She closed her eyes and breathed in their scents, memorized their touch. She would have everything she ever wanted, all the passion and intrigue she’d sought in her novels. And a life with John and Henry was all she would ever need.

THE END WWW.JOSIEDENNIS.COM

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Josie Dennis writes erotic romances for the discerning reader. Her characters find love in the most amazing places, and the Happily Ever After is a guarantee. Readers who like their romances hot and their heroes and heroines open to ideas they’ve only explored in their fantasies will find her erotic romances quite satisfying. Josie divides her time between Central Florida and New England.

Also by Josie Dennis Ménage Amour: Classics Rekindled 1: Wild Heights Ménage Amour: Classics Rekindled 2: Emmy’s Lesson Ménage Amour: Classics Rekindled 3: Tessa’s Redemption Ménage Amour: Classics Rekindled 4: Madison Park Ménage Amour: Classics Rekindled 5: Jane’s Heart

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