Mistletoe Menage (8 page)

“Indeed, my darling. I wanted to
show you in oils how you have changed since our first meeting back in
September.”

“Can I see them?”

“Of course.”
He kissed her cheek then left the room before returning quickly with three
parcels under his arm. Each one was wrapped in brown paper and tied with
string.

“Now, sit on that chair by the
fire and I will show you each one in turn. But first, close your eyes.”

Anne did as she was told. She
heard paper being torn and Guy removing his jacket and boots. “No peeking!” he
said, just as she was about to open her eyes and turn around.

A sudden gust of icy cold air
startled her but she fought the urge to turn toward him.

“I just needed a breath of air,
Anne.
Nothing to worry about.”
She heard him fasten
the lock on the French doors that looked out onto the stone verandah and
gardens,
then pull the changing screen back in front of the
glass. She had told the servants to place the screen there to keep the drafts
out, drafts that would otherwise disturb her reading, but really it had been to
shield her from the grounds men during Guy’s visits.

“Now open your eyes.”

Guy stood before her, clothed in
just his breeches and holding a framed picture at his side. His chest glowed in
the firelight and she eyed his broad torso and the clear indentations on his
stomach which hinted at the muscles beneath his golden skin. She had run her
fingers along those muscles many times and longed to do so again.

“Here is the first portrait that
I wanted you to see.” He turned the frame in his hands and Anne gasped as she
looked at it. For there, captured in oils, was a beautiful widow clad in her
mourning gown. She was perched on the edge of the chaise, her chestnut hair
pulled into a coronet upon her head. The neckline of her gown was decorated
with a pure white lace insert. Her back was straight, her hands folded in her
lap, and her ankles hidden demurely beneath her gown. And her expression…it
made Anne’s eyes fill with tears to see the pain the woman experienced.

“That is not me.” She placed a
hand over her chest.

“It is
not…not
now,” Guy said. “But it was you just months ago. This is how you appeared when
we first met.”

Anne eyed her image and sighed.
“And now?”

Guy placed the painting on the
chair behind him then disappeared behind Anne again. She heard more tearing of
paper,
then
he held up another portrait. This time,
Anne was scandalously naked except for her stockings as she reclined on the
chaise. Her breasts were exposed, large and milky white with full, round, pink
circles, and pointy nipples at the center. One hand supported her cheek while
the other half-obscured the chestnut curls between her rounded thighs. The
portrait was erotic, seductive, and arousing. Was this how Guy saw her then?

“Do you see the difference?” Guy
asked and Anne nodded.

“My eyes—they shine now with
happiness and longing.”

“Look closer.”

Anne leaned forward, peered at
her likeness, and she gasped.
“You!”

“Yes.” Guy chuckled.

“Your reflection is in my eyes.”

I thought that whatever happens
in the future, Anne, at least we would always have this.

Her stomach lurched at his words.
The future.
Without Guy it was bleak as a never-ending
winter, cold and damp as a moldy cellar. How would she manage when Guy walked
out of her life? She would be bereft, abandoned to nurse a broken heart that
longed for Guy and longed, even now, for Edward.

Do not think of that now!

“May I see the third one?”

“Shortly, Anne.
That one is extra special.”

“Well, I shall wait then, but don’t
make me wait too long, Guy. I’ve missed you these last two weeks, and I am keen
to hold you once more.”

Guy approached her, then sat at
her side and wrapped an arm around her. She leaned gratefully into his warmth
and breathed deeply of his fresh scent, at once like cold mountain air and
leather. She lifted her head, seeking a kiss, but he stopped her.

“What is it?” Her heart lurched.
Did he not desire her any longer?

“I want to ask you something,
Anne. And I ask that you are honest with me. Something has been on my mind of
late and I hope you will not mind me requesting clarification.”

“What…what do you want to know?”
Anne could not think of anything that Guy might want to know that she hadn’t
already told him.

“You spoke of your late husband
being a kind man but I know that yours was not a love match. What then…what led
you into marrying him?”

Anne worried her lower lip. “Why
would you want to know this? Do you think me a fortune hunter? I was not, for I
had inherited wealth of my own. I did not marry him for that.” Her mouth had
dried up and she found swallowing difficult.

“I didn’t think so, Anne. But why
did you marry him?”

“I…I loved another.
A man…Lord Moore.
Edward Moore. He was…is…from a landed
family. We met and fell in love during my first visit to London as a debutante.
I was late to debut as I had been caring for my ailing father. When he passed, all
I wanted to do was hide away in the country but my father’s sister forced me to
accompany her to London for the season. My heart was not in it. But then…then I
met Edward and he made me feel so alive, so beautiful, so free. The loss of my
father had broken me apart but Edward started helping me put the pieces back
together. He made me feel that there was a life to be lived, joy to be had, and
love to lift my spirits. He made me
believe
in love. All I wanted was to be his wife but I knew it wouldn’t be easy. There
I was, daughter of a merchant, hoping to marry a man with a name that stretched
back centuries. I was hardly a suitable bride for a Lord.”

“Oh Anne, if only you knew.”

She stared at him for a moment,
confused at his words, yet keen to continue before she lost her courage.

“Edward returned to his country
estate to speak with his father. He’d told me that his father was not a kindly
gentleman but promised that he would win him round. And if not, then we would
elope and marry anyway.”

“And how did you feel about
that?” Guy asked.

Anne shrugged. “It was so long
ago.”

“Pray continue, Anne.”

“I would have married him and
lived in the gutter if I could have been at his side. But then, during his
absence his father’s lawyer approached me. He told me that his client was
furious about Edward’s proposal and that I would never be allowed to marry him.
Then the lawyer told me…” Her throat tightened and she stifled a sob. “Then he
told me that if I did run away with Edward, his father would disinherit him and
he would have nothing. I could have lived with nothing but I couldn’t see
Edward doing it.”

“But you had money of your own,”
Guy said, frowning at her.

“Not the amount that Edward was
used to, Guy. I live modestly on my inheritance. It wasn’t a fortune to match
Edward’s. How could I hope to emulate the lifestyle that Edward was used to? I
feared that over time he would grow to resent me and I could not have borne
that.”

“So you married Alfred?”

Anne nodded. “My aunt introduced
us and he asked for my hand immediately. Marrying him offered me a way out—a
way to avoid leading Edward into a future he might have despised.”

Guy grinned at Anne then glanced
behind her.

“I would never have despised it had
I been with you, Anne!”

Anne jumped as a familiar voice rang
out, promptly followed by heavy footsteps. She stared wide-eyed at Edward Moore
as he stood before her and Guy.

“Edward! Where did you come from…?
How on…I mean why… I…”

“All is well, Anne,” Guy soothed
as she gasped for air. She could not believe that her former love now stood
before her as she sat almost naked in her library, cradled in the arms of an
artist.

Whatever would happen next?

Chapter Seven

Edward couldn’t take his eyes off
of Anne. He had instructed Guy to ensure that Anne told him what had happened
in her past and why she had married another. He had to know why she had
abandoned him, and now that he’d heard her explanation, he was in turmoil. Anne
had not deliberately betrayed him. His father, damn that man, was to blame for
her decision to wed another. He’d sent Perkins, that scoundrel of a lawyer, to
convince Anne to forget about marrying him. It made his blood boil just
thinking about how smug his father must have been.

Guy had shown Anne the first two
paintings before Edward made his entrance. Just after his arrival, Guy had
unlocked the French doors to let Edward in, and he had hidden behind the
changing screen, waiting for the perfect moment to make his presence known. That
moment had been once he’d heard what he hoped was the truth.

Now, his plans for Anne and her
ruination all seemed foul and abhorrent. How could he forge ahead and ruin her
when she had married another to save him…
him
…from
being disinherited.
Unless she was lying.
But then why
would she lie now? What would be the point?

“Anne…” He stared into her
shimmering green eyes and the fact that she was on the verge of tears tugged at
his heart. “Is all that you said true?”

She moved out of Guy’s embrace
and got to her feet then walked toward Edward. She held his gaze and he watched
as a tear burst from her eye and trickled down her cheek. He reached out and
smoothed it away before it reached her chin.

“It is true, Edward. I didn’t
fight for you because I feared ruining your whole future. But I loved you.” Her
bottom lip wobbled and Edward felt something inside him unravelling, like
tightly wound cotton. As it came apart, he was overwhelmed by a sense of
incredible relief. So this was it, the thing that had overshadowed his days and
nights for what felt like a lifetime.

“Anne, my sweet
Anne.
I would have lived nameless and penniless with you. Did you not
know that?”

She shook her head. “I knew you
loved me as I loved you, Edward. But poverty is bitter and I feared your
resentment. It might have grown and I could not bear for you to look at me with
anything other than love. It would have been an intolerable fate.”

“And how…how do you feel now?” He
held his breath, wondering if it was possible to move on from where they were, after
all that had passed in between, to look to a new future together. Guy moved to
his side, took hold of his hand, and they stood before Anne, together, awaiting
her words—words that could make or break them in one instant.

Anne glanced down at their joined
hands and frowned for a moment. Then realization crossed her face and she
smiled. “Are you…could it be that you…”

Edward nodded. His heart sank as
he watched Anne biting her bottom lip. What would she think of him and Guy?
Two men, friends and lovers.
Two men both
in love with her.
For love her he did. He had never stopped. He had
tried to bury his feelings for her under anger and bitterness, but seeing her,
listening to her, and knowing how highly Guy regarded her, had turned that
upside-down.

“The two men I regard most highly
in
all of the
world…are together?”

“Yes, Anne. I told you how I
loved Edward, did I not?”

“I thought you meant because he
saved you, Guy. I believed that you meant you loved him with the devotion of a
man who has been saved. I didn’t realize your love was deeper and more
complicated than that.”

“And does it concern you,
sweetheart?” She paused and stared at them. Guy reached for her hand so that
the three of them were joined with Guy as their link.

Edward held out his free hand to
Anne and smiled as she took it.

“Anne, you are so beautiful, more
beautiful than I ever dreamed you were. And believe
me,
you’ve been in my dreams and my thoughts every day and night. I have cultured
anger toward you, feeding it in order to try to harden my heart, but I am
helpless before you. Seeing you again, I know that I love you now as much as I
did when we met. My life has changed considerably. I am free to offer you
everything now, all that I couldn’t give you before is at my disposal to
lay
before you. We could make this work. You could be Lady
Moore.
If you would have me.”
His heart beat
frantically and he tightened his grip on her hand.

“But how would it work, Edward?
You, me, and Guy?”

“Let us show you, Anne,” Guy
whispered as he moved closer to her.

“Yes. Let us show you,” Edward
added as he wrapped an arm around Anne and one around Guy and they began to
kiss her.

“Yes…” Anne breathed as the three
of them embraced beneath the kissing bow. The white berries of the mistletoe
shone like pearls in the firelight, each one offering a promise of seduction
and passion.

As Edward was finally able to say
good-bye to the pain of his past, he remembered that Anne had not yet seen the
third painting. It was meant to be the ultimate embarrassment for her when it
was passed around society.
To humiliate her beyond belief.
But now it seemed like a fortunate prediction, captured in oils by a master
painter.

****

Anne felt as if she were in a
dream, the type of dream she had enjoyed for years yet never believed possible.

First, she was in Guy’s arms as
he held her face and kissed her gently. Behind her, Edward wrapped his arms
around her middle and caressed her belly over her chemise while running his
lips over her neck and shoulders. When he raised his hands to her breasts and
squeezed her sensitive nipples, she squirmed against him and he pinched harder,
causing her body to flood with heat.