Authors: The Sextet
new building going on in Natchez has increased the demand for
lumber from the O’Donnell mill, we told them we had to attend to
business in Port Gibson and would be gone for a few days.” Connor
left his chair, handed one of the glasses of cider to Anna, then sat
back down. “See how easily it all worked out? You weren’t expected
home, everyone at Belle
Rêve
is gone, and neither Dev nor I have to be anywhere else but here with you. That’s what we meant by it being
the perfect time for you to come home.”
Devon took a long draught of cider from his glass, then leaned
forward. “Anna, before we get on with the rest of our talk, Connor
and I have a question that we need to ask you.”
Anna’s breath caught in her throat.
Here it is…here comes the
nightmare. This is what I’ve been dreading and running away from
for three years. How do I answer their question? What do I say?
Her
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heart began to beat at an unsteady and rapid pace.
I’m not a fool,
though. I know that in order to save any friendship, any trust or love
that there is between us, there is only one thing I can do. There is only
one thing that I must do.
I have to tell the truth.
Connor stood, moved to the edge of the porch, leaned back against
the railing, and looked at her. “Why did you leave us, Anna? Why did
you run off to Paris? Surely there was more to your decision than the
war. Why did you leave without telling us, and why did you stay
away for so long?”
Anna glanced at Connor and Devon. Nervous, she clasped her
trembling hands together in her lap, burying them deep in the folds of
her skirt. Drawing a breath, she mustered every bit of courage she
possessed, and began her confession. “Papa insisted I leave until the
war was over, but yes…there
was
more to it than that.” She dreaded revealing the truth, but the time for hiding it had long passed. “Please, you both must understand that I am so very sorry for…for what I’ve
done.” She stood, stepped away from her chair. “I did a horrible
thing—to both of you. I realize that no number of excuses will suffice
to explain, but I was young and foolish. It was exciting…being
courted by you both at the same time. I reveled in the attention, and
I…I allowed each of you to believe that you were…my only…lover.”
The words weren’t coming smoothly, catching in her throat with
shame. “I figured out only an hour ago that you both may have
learned the truth while I was gone.” No one had ever told her that
confessing would be so painful. “I had never meant for Connor to find
out about you and me,” she said, looking at Devon. Anna then turned
her gaze to Connor. “And I’d never wanted Devon to find out about
us.”
Anna began to pace across the gallery. Pausing by her chair, she
tried to settle her nerves. The hardest part of her confession was still
to be told.
Just get on with it.
Looking everywhere else but at Connor or Devon, she continued. “Very soon, I realized that I had become
hopelessly trapped.” She paused to bolster her courage, and when she
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spoke again, her words were as soft as a whisper. “My trap became
my biggest problem of all—I was in love with you both. I couldn’t
choose one of you over the other, and so…so, I deceived you both.”
Hoping to stop shaking and afraid that her knees would buckle,
Anna returned to her chair and sat. She folded her arms around herself
and prayed Connor and Devon would understand her torment.
“Although I was a coward and ran away and hurt you both, I paid a
terrible price for what I did, as well. I punished myself for three long
years by staying away from you both.” Her confession complete, and
discovering one small spark of courage left in her heart, she made one
final plea. “Please…I beg you, can you both forgive me?”
Anna studied the expression on Devon’s face, then glanced at
Connor, surprised to not find any evidence of anger or antipathy in
either. She then knew that the guess she had made earlier was right.
The O’Donnell twins also had a truth to share, and it was every bit as
revealing as her own. The knowledge gave her some hope. “How long
have you both known? How did you find out…about each other?”
A smile quickly curved Devon’s lips. “I suppose we both figured
it out over a year ago, but didn’t talk about it until we were both home
after the war.” He paused and took a drink from his glass. “I won’t lie
to you, Anna, at first we were damned angry—not just with you, but
with each other, too. No man likes to think he’s been cuckolded,
especially when it’s by his own brother.” Devon chuckled. “I was all
set to beat the hell out of Connor, and then he suggested that we
should just whup the piss, tar, and shit out of each other.” Devon’s
chuckle became a full-bodied laugh. “The day before we’d planned to
meet out at the edge of Big Bull Bayou and thrash each other to hell
and back, Connor got to talking about something that really made
sense.” Devon raised his glass and took another sip. “All it took then
was a few of bottles of good, smooth bourbon, sittin’ up all night and
talkin’ everything through until sunup. By the time all the bottles of
bourbon were empty and breakfast was on the table, we knew beatin’
on each other wouldn’t solve anything. Then we came up with the
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best damn plan of all.”
Connor nodded. “It was so simple. I don’t know why it took all
that bourbon for us to figure it out. The best part is that we both knew
it would be the right answer for our…dilemma.” He quickly stepped
away from the rail and placed a kiss on Anna’s cheek. “Let me
explain. I’d just read a new book by the French author, Alexandre
Dumas, and it got me thinking about our…
situation
…in a different
way. Dumas wrote about three French Musketeers, soldiers, who were
close friends and loyal to each other to the death. The men had what
could be called their tenet, their oath to each other. Their trust and
their bond were founded in six simple words—
tous pour un, un pour
tous
.”
Baffled, Anna still wasn’t sure where any of this was leading.
“Aside from the similarity in number, what does a story about three
French soldiers in a book have to do with the three of us?”
“It’s so very simple, my love,” Connor replied. “If you will
answer one more very important question, then I’ll tell you.” He
paused, glanced at Devon, then turned to Anna and sat down. “If you
had to choose between Devon and me right now and never be again
with the one you didn’t pick, which one of us would you choose?”
Anna gasped, her breath burning like ice in her lungs.
Dear God,
how could I have been so wrong? Connor’s first question wasn’t the
one I feared. This is the one I dreaded.
She dropped her head, tightly clenched her hands together in her lap, closed her eyes, and hoped she
could hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.
Anna Marie
BonDurant, stop being such a damned coward. You deserve every
harsh word and penalty imaginable that may be coming your way.
Stop crying and take your due punishment.
Gathering her thoughts, Anna knew that everything she valued and cherished depended on her
answer.
She opened her eyes but didn’t look at either of the men she
loved. Putting her hands on the arms of the chair to steady herself, she
slowly stood and briskly brushed away the tears on her cheeks. Her
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body shaking, her breath coming in faltering puffs, she spoke the
words she had carried in her heart for three years. “I know that what I
wish would, in polite society, be considered…utterly depraved. My
answer to your question is exactly the same today as it was when I
knew I had to leave Natchez. I couldn’t choose then, and I can’t
choose now.”
Before sealing her fate, Anna filled her lungs with a ragged
breath, and confessed, “I…want…you both.”
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Chapter 4
They must think I’m worse than a wooden-nickel whore from one
of the Under the Hill saloons or the filthy penny cribs.
Anxiously, Anna waited a minute or two for either Connor or
Devon to say something, but neither spoke nor moved. The only
sounds she heard were the trills of a couple of mockingbirds perching
in the nearby live oaks and the rustle of leaves and Spanish moss
blowing in the breeze.
Hoping to ease her fraying nerves and soothe her parched throat,
she reached for the glass on the table beside her. As she lifted the
cider to her lips, the glass, wet with condensation, slipped through her
fingers and all of the cider spilled on her clothes.
She gasped as chilled cider drenched the front of her jacket and
splashed across her skirt. “Damnation! I’m soaked through to my
skin!” Without hesitating for a moment, she bolted through the open
jib window and into her bedroom.
Standing in the middle of the room, Anna removed the derby from
her head, tossed it on the top of the dresser, and then ripped off the
ascot. She fumbled with the buttons on her jacket and ignored the two
that popped off, bounced on the Aubusson carpet then skittered under
the bed.
“Mon Dieu,”
she hissed, peeled off her wet jacket and tossed it onto the floor. Next, she unbuttoned her skirt, pulled it down over
her hips, and let it puddle on the floor at her feet. Quickly glancing
around the room for her trunks, she suddenly remembered. “Oh, no,
they haven’t been delivered yet.” She kicked the wet garments on the
floor out of her way and dashed across the room. “Please, let there be
something in the chiffarobe that I can wear.” She opened the cabinet,
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but only the scent of cedar and lilac sachets met her. “Empty.
Nothing.”
“Need any help?”
Turning at the sound of Connor’s voice, she found both of the
O’Donnell twins standing only a few feet away.
Why did they follow
me? Didn’t I make a big enough fool of myself out on the balcony?
She tried to gather her wits, calm her ragged nerves, and get on with
the sane task of getting out of her soaked clothing. “It seems that I
have a little…uh…problem,” she replied. “I have to get out of these
sticky, wet garments, but until my trunks arrive, I don’t have anything
to wear.”
Neither Devon nor Connor said a word, and neither stepped
forward to help her.
Why don’t they say something? Were they so
appalled by my…confession?
She couldn’t stop shaking, the new
weight of worry lying heavily upon her.
I’m as unsteady as a
whirligig.
She drew a deep breath and felt her breasts press against the cold, wet fabric of her chemise. Unconsciously raising her hands, she
modestly covered each breast. “You asked me for a truthful answer to
your question,” she said, looking at the men she loved. “Did my
answer disappoint you so much that you can’t forgive me…or do you
both loathe me?”
Devon stepped forward, laid his index finger on her lips, brushed
a stray lock of hair away from her face, and then kissed her cheek.
“Hush, hush. Calm your worries. Your answer to Connor’s question
was just what we were hoping to hear. You made me so damn happy,
and I know Connor is just as delighted as I am. Of course we forgive
you. Hell’s fire, girl, you are truly a man’s dream, but it just so
happens that in this case, you’re a very special and wonderful dream
for
two
men.” Devon glanced at his brother and then back at Anna.
Connor moved closer. “Now do you understand what made me
think of the three of us, you, Devon, and me, when I read the Dumas
book?” He drew Anna into his arms, lightly kissed the end of her
nose, then brushed another kiss on her lips. “Aside from abiding by
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your father’s wishes to keep you safe during the war, Dev and I
figured out that you sailed for Paris because you couldn’t choose one
O’Donnell over the other.” He kissed her again, a little touch of his
mouth on hers. “Granted, it took more than those few bottles of
bourbon to strengthen our courage, but Dev and I confessed
everything to each other—about us both being with you.
“At first there were the usual questions, everything from which
one of us had been your first lover, which one of us had been with
you last, and whose loving did you like best. Damn, that last question
was the one that ended up with us in a wrestling match in the middle
of the rose garden.” Connor shook his head, a slight smile curving his
mouth. “You’ve got to understand, love, it was difficult for me to
know that you had lain in Dev’s arms and that he intimately knew
every sweet inch and taste of your body as I did, and that he’d…loved