Jane's Heart

Classics Rekindled 5

Jane’s Heart Jane Elliot’s an orphan with no place of her own. She loved Marcus Rothchild at Thorncrest Manor until she learned his wife was alive and fled. She is staying with her distant cousin St. John Riverton. They soon desire each other. Sinjun insists she marry him, but she can’t. She still loves Marcus. Sinjun learns Thorncrest was half burned and the wife died. He tells Marcus Jane still loves him, but he won’t give her up. Sinjun brings Jane to Thorncrest. They tell her they both want her, and she admits she wants them, too. Together they feed Jane’s needs for comfort and passion. She loves them both, but she worries they’ll make her choose. She doesn’t believe she’s entitled to happiness. They must find a way to prove she’s worthy of love she hasn’t had since her parents died. Will Jane trust her heart and find the place she belongs? Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre Length: 24,218 words

JANE’S HEART Classics Rekindled 5

Josie Dennis

MENAGE AMOUR

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

JANE’S HEART Copyright © 2011 by Josie Dennis E-book ISBN: 1-61926-112-X First E-book Publication: December 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 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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JANE’S HEART Classics Rekindled 5 JOSIE DENNIS Copyright © 2011

Chapter 1 England, 1847 “Miss Elliot?” Jane Elliot heard the young woman call as if from far away. “Jane,” said a more forceful feminine voice. Jane started then looked at the two Riverton sisters. She sat with them in the neat little parlor of Moor’s End, her distant cousins’ modest and comfortable home near Morton. Mary colored a screen at the small table in the corner while Diane worked with the needle as Jane did beside her. A fire crackled behind the grate, giving adequate warmth for the autumn evening. “Do forgive me, Diane. Mary.” She smiled at them both. “I’m afraid I was woolgathering.” “Thinking about that mysterious past of yours?” Mary, the younger sister, teased. Jane blinked then shook her head. “My past is exceedingly dull, I assure you. No mystery there.” “No gothic hero searching over the moors for you?” Diane asked, her eyes twinkling. “Hardly, no,” Jane answered.

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“Then you must give us your opinion of Mary’s firescreen. I daresay her coloring has improved. A little.” “Oh, pooh,” Mary said, setting down her paintbrush. “I cannot be expected to become a great master, Diane. Not hidden out here in Derbyshire.” The sisters resumed their playful bantering as Jane took up her needlework, her mind far from the task and the pleasant company. She had no right to resent the two sisters, but it grew tiring keeping up the façade of gentility when all she wanted to do was howl at the very moon shining through the pristine windows. A mysterious past? Yes, she had that. But it was her future that worried her this evening. “I had hoped St. John would join us for dinner tonight, Jane,” Diane said. “He always brings news from the village with him.” “Yes.” Mary giggled. “For someone who reproaches us for gossiping, Sinjun certainly carries his share of tales.” St. John Riverton was the very subject of Jane’s contemplation this evening, and her turmoil. As Mary’s words indicated, Sinjun did indeed seem a contradiction. He might be planning to become a vicar, but Jane’s thoughts of him were anything but pious. And if she were to trust her intuition, his behavior toward her was growing quite heated. He was masculine beauty personified, as fair and handsome as his two sisters. Even when he wore a stern expression, his lips were full and curved with blatant sensuality. He was fit and lean in his plain black clothes. And beneath them, she would wager. Her traitorous body had begun to crave his touch over the past three months she’d spent in the Rivertons’ hospitality. Now she so yearned for a man’s touch that her every breath seemed focused on that secret place between her legs. Why, not since she’d left Thorncrest— No! She would not think about her time at that estate. The governess falling in love with her employer? Really, it was ridiculous. She sucked in a breath. The pain had lessened not a whit since she’d fled Marcus Rothchild’s grand home. She’d been brokenhearted and

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ashamed of what she’d felt for him. Of what she’d done with him. Well, she would sell her soul to never feel that razor-sharp desire again. “Hello!” Sinjun’s voice called from the entry. Immediately Jane’s heart began to race and her body to tremble. Fidgeting, she felt her woman’s flesh grow damp. Her pussy, Marcus had called it. Would Sinjun use that word? Would he touch her there? Oh, she was a weak-willed creature to entertain such thoughts. “Good evening, brother,” Diane said. “You are nearly late for dinner.” “Yes, we quite feared you would stay away this evening,” Mary put in. Sinjun smiled indulgently at his siblings. The expression intensified Jane’s reaction, and she couldn’t keep her gaze from following him as he entered the parlor. “Now, surely you have not wanted for company.” He flicked his beautiful blue eyes in Jane’s direction, and she felt her breasts tingle. “Not with Miss Elliot here with you.” Diane stood. “Oh, do not tease us. You know we three crave your company.” She waved toward Mary. “Do tell Cook we are ready to dine.” Mary nodded and hurried to honor Diane’s request. Diane took Sinjun’s deep black jacket. “You did not wear a scarf, Sinjun? It’s grown cold of late.” “The thought of dining here at Moor’s End warmed me considerably on my ride over,” he answered. Jane watched as he interacted with his sisters. It was clear they adored him, Mary hurrying to see to his meal and Diane seeing to his comforts and well-being. That was no mystery to Jane. He was kind to them, and a prettier gentleman she’d never seen. He was so different from Marcus, yet he elicited the same shameful desires within her.

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She finally tore her eyes from him as he settled before the fire. He sat close enough that she caught his fresh, soapy scent. That, too, differed from Marcus. That man always smelled like the outdoors. Leather and cigars. Tears stung at the back of her eyes as she recalled the last time she saw him. Aside from the morning wedding that never took place. “What are you working on, Miss Elliot?” Sinjun asked, his head bent close to hers. Her eyes were so clouded with tears she couldn’t even see her stitches. “Nothing of consequence, Mr. Riverton.” He swallowed audibly, and she blinked as she brought her eyes to his. Oh, there was that heat she’d seen over the past few weeks. She had not imagined it! Her disgrace with Marcus might have come close to ruining her, but it had served one purpose. She was able to recognize an aroused male when she saw one. From the way Sinjun’s eyes glimmered and his breath quickened, she knew he felt it, too. “Mr. Riverton—” “Sinjun,” he said, his voice smooth and low. Her lips parted in surprise, and his gaze shifted there. “Sin…” Her mouth went dry as he stared. “Sinjun.” He smiled, a very different sort of expression than the one he’d given his sisters. This smile was slight, just a curve of his perfect lips. It was hot. Seductive. Her own lips trembled, craving the press of his mouth to hers. “Jane,” he began in that hushed voice. “I wondered if I might have a word with you.” He flicked his gaze toward the kitchens, no doubt checking for his sisters’ imminent return. “Later.” “Mr…” She licked her aching lips. “Sinjun, I do not know if that is wise.” He studied her for a long moment, that stern cast once more settling over his features. “Ah, I am quite certain it is anything but.” He sounded regretful, yet he continued to stay so very close to her. For one mad moment she expected him to kiss her at last!

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“Dinner, chickens,” Diane called as she emerged from the kitchen. “Come, Sinjun. Miss Elliot.” Sinjun came to his feet in one fluid motion and held his arm out to Jane. With Diane looking on, and Mary peering over her sister’s shoulder, Jane could not refuse such an innocently gallant gesture. Placing her hand on his arm, she felt the rigid muscles there. His outward appearance was one of serene composure as they entered the dining room, but she could sense his attention toward her. Her own awareness prickled endlessly. She suspected it would not cease until hours later, in her temporary chamber, when the lonely night once again claimed her. **** Sinjun nodded and smiled as his sisters went on about one thing or another. He supplied them with so-called news from the village, and they speculated endlessly on the names he provided. This suited him, for gazing at Miss Jane Elliot was far more interesting than anything he could think to contribute to the girls’ conversation. She was a picture, though, as always, she seemed unaware of her appeal. She possessed a body slight in build, perfect curves nevertheless showing in her serviceable gown. Her hair was a dark brown as rich as a roasted chestnut. Her large eyes hazel had gold flecks that seemed to dance when she laughed. That was not very often, however. Her skin was very fair. He worried over the faint smudges beneath her eyes. Her accommodations were more than adequate at Moor’s End, her bedchamber sufficiently furnished and set toward the back of the house. It was quiet, he’d wager. Remote from his sister’s chambers. Just the thought of her readying for bed, her supple body catching the moonlight sure to stream through the high windows, made his cock throb.

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For years now he’d thought himself beyond such carnal cravings, but more than once since Jane’s sudden arrival at Moor’s End, he’d had to find solitary release in his chamber at the vicarage. The ancient vicar was widowed and hard of hearing, so there was no worry that he or his long-dead wife would come upon him rasping Jane’s name as he fisted his hand around his aching cock. He watched her sip her wine, the red staining her pert lips. How he longed to taste them. He’d nearly kissed her in the parlor, despite his sisters’ close proximity. He had to get a tight rein on these feelings, and soon. Perhaps if he touched her, once, it would ease his need. She laughed, and the brief sound caressed him. Her smile was bright in that moment, and her countenance was changed from pretty to beautiful. There were shadows in her past, he knew. She’d been less than forthcoming when she’d arrived here, but something in her demeanor had spoken to a spot deep within him. To a place he’d thought dead and cold before her. He felt need rise within him once more. His balls grew heavy, and his stomach clenched as heat spread over his flesh. “Isn’t that right, Sinjun?” Mary asked. He started then found all three women staring at him. Jane’s face was alight, long, dark lashes framing those wide hazel eyes. In startling clarity, he knew. Jane was the one woman for him. If only he hadn’t looked into her past. **** Marcus Rothchild paced through the blackened ruins, caring not a whit for the loss of property or decorations. The bloody manor was structurally sound, he’d been assured. Flames had eaten only the interior in the east wing and part of its roof. It would take but a few more weeks and the place would be set to rights. The secret chamber in the east wing, where the fire had presumably begun, had been

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consumed, its wild occupant the lone casualty of the conflagration. Well, he could not rouse sympathy for that horrid creature’s death. Yes, she had been essentially a prisoner in the mansion but, after all, wasn’t he as well? He had been trapped as surely as if he were locked behind that thick wooden door with her. He nodded as the foreman instructed him on the more recent work done, and then dismissed him. It had been a long night, and a bottle of spirits awaited Marcus in his study. He was nearly an hour late for their nightly meeting. Alone in the house, save for servants, he relished his solitude. The child was gone as well, to a good school paid for by him, though she was not his by-blow. He couldn’t bear to have another governess to Thorncrest. Not since Jane had fled. He gained the parlor and found the scent of smoke absent from the new cloth and furnishings. He’d let his steward pick the trappings, and the man had done quite a good job replicating the masculine opulence Marcus had preferred before. Now? Now he didn’t give a bull’s backside what the bloody place looked like. He poured himself a generous glass of brandy and settled in the chair beside the hearth. “Ah, Jane,” he rasped. A fire burned in the fireplace, carefully attended to with a thick new firescreen to prevent errant sparks from jumping out to make mischief. There was no danger, he knew. An unguarded candle in the hands of a madwoman had caused the destruction two months prior. At least she had finally kept her insanity solely focused on herself. God knew he couldn’t send her back to her deceitful family when her instability became known years ago. No, he’d been wedded and bedded. And damned. He closed his eyes, unable to keep from replaying the events that led to his lonely life. His late-wife’s family had hidden her insanity from him as they’d negotiated the marriage contract, and being a randy bastard of twenty-one, he hadn’t thought to look past her large

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breasts, ample backside and full, red mouth. God, the woman could suck his cock for hours. That one night he’d had her, their honeymoon night, she’d evidently been drugged by her family. He’d never seen it until after he’d consummated their wretched union, however. If he’d been able to drag his thoughts away from his cock when she’d disrobed, perhaps he would have noticed that her dark eyes were a bit unfocused as she’d come to him.. Perhaps if he had seen, he could have saved both of them their sentence in misery. But no. They’d fucked long into the night, with her riding him so hard he’d thought she’d take his shaft with her as she came, screaming. In her pussy, in her mouth, in her ass, he’d taken her every way a man can take a woman. In the morning, however… He’d awoken in the wee hours to find her slicing him with a knife. Narrow cuts, which she’d perpetrated upon herself as well. One clear look at her, once lust had cleared from his mind, had told him what her family had concealed. She was violently crazy, and he was now good-and-truly stuck with her. Moving her into the fortified chamber in the east wing and installing a circumspect attendant had seemed to solve his problems. But that was before Jane. Jane, the sweetest creature he’d ever beheld. Orphaned and dependent upon him for employment, he’d fought the feelings she’d aroused. Lust, yes. She was beautiful and fresh and everything he’d never thought he’d wanted before. There was more than lust, however. She brought his heart to life and made it crave something he’d never thought to need. Love. “And she loved me,” he grumbled into the flames. “Damn my soul, she loved me.” Their one night together had been nothing like his honeymoon, that was certain. She’d sweetly given herself to him, as much as he’d dared take without marriage between them. Her kisses were delicious, her body smooth and lithe as he’d touched every inch of her. And her pussy…So wet and tight, so beautiful in the firelight as he’d brought

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her to her first climax. It had been his name she’d cried as she’d bucked beneath him. His name she’d screamed as she’d fled Thorncrest the morning after, when she’d learned that his wife lived and they could never marry. He’d tried to find her after the debacle that had been their wedding morning. He’d learned she was safely settled with relatives not too far away in Derbyshire. After the fire, however, he couldn’t bear to go to her. To see the disgust on her face. She was sure to realize he didn’t mourn his dead wife. Hell, he’d rejoiced at her demise. And even now that he was free he could never have Jane. The love she’d felt for him, and he was certain she’d loved him, was surely as dead as that crazy bitch. He downed another glass of brandy and closed his burning eyes. “Jane,” he sobbed. As the liquor took its intended toll, he slipped into fitful sleep.

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Chapter 2 Jane walked toward the village of Morton, the brisk fall air at last lifting the cobwebs from her mind. Long into the night she’d tossed and turned, thoughts of Sinjun and Marcus combining to nearly drive her mad. They could not be more different in temperament and in looks. Sinjun, so pious and rigid. Every move, every word, was measured and carefully weighed. Marcus, so impulsive and passionate. He acted without restraint in both speech and actions. They each spoke to a different part of her. Sinjun, to a discipline and control she longed to possess. Marcus, to a zest for life she sorely lacked. She found both men physically irresistible as well. Sinjun was so beautiful, fair and perfect in face and form. Like an angel come down from heaven to delight her with bright smiles and pleasant conversations. Marcus was more roughly-hewn, brawny and big with a face that could appear harsh. He was much darker than Sinjun, his hair thick and wild, his swarthy skin that served to highlight his gray eyes. She’d seen his expression turn tender in that harsh face and those piercing eyes, however. That was the moment she’d fallen in love with him. Her heart twisted at the memory. However was she to know that his rough exterior hid secrets she’d find horrifying in the extreme? She’d managed to evade Sinjun’s request to meet with him alone last night, but her cowardice couldn’t continue. He’d slipped a note beneath her door sometime last evening, requesting she come see him in the village. Just the thought of him outside her door as she’d rested practically naked in her bed was enough to make her heart pound!

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He’d asked her to meet him at the vicarage. She only prayed Mr. Smythe was not in. While the elderly vicar was kind enough in his absent manner, Jane would never wish him to guess her intent in visiting his successor. What was her intent, really? She wasn’t certain, but if it was as innocent as it should be, she would have declined Sinjun’s request altogether and spoken to him only at Moor’s End. The vicarage was a neat-looking little house with a small garden out front. It was woefully overgrown, as neither Mr. Smythe nor Sinjun had the time or inclination to see to it. She hesitated on the walk, toeing her half boot in the sandy soil beneath her feet. It’s not too late. She could hurry back to Moor’s End and pretend she never entertained the thought of meeting Sinjun in private. Taking a breath, she turned to go. “Jane,” she heard Sinjun call softly. She spun to find him in the doorway, that expectant look once more on his handsome face. “Mr. Riverton,” she said. His brow furrowed, and he stepped back. “Come, Jane.” Swallowing, Jane climbed the few steps to the front door. “Good afternoon, Mr. Riverton.” He flashed that sensual smile for a moment, and her body flushed hot from head to toe. “Sinjun.” She licked her lips. “Sinjun.” He caught her to him in the next moment, his arms tight around her as he brought his mouth close to her. “Ah, Jane.” She drew in a breath, all but tasting the mint on his tongue. His soapy scent reached her, the press of his hard body to her soft one causing a riot of feelings within her. Her breasts grew heavy as her nipples hardened within her stays. Curse her for a wanton, her pussy began to throb. “Sinjun,” she said again, this time her lips pressed to his.

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He kissed her at last, deep, drugging kisses that left her clinging to him. “You taste so sweet,” he murmured as he closed the door and led her out of the front entry toward a narrow hallway. “How long I’ve waited for a taste.” Her mind registered his words. He’d thought of this as well? She’d sensed his interest in her, but— “Where are we going?” she managed to ask. “My chamber.” He paused, seemingly to give her a moment to reconsider. Oh, she should! But she would not. Her body, her soul, wanted this. Wild for him, she plunged her fingers into his silky blond hair and kissed him herself this time. “Good,” she said. Her tongue stroked his, earning a moan from his lips. She soon found herself on the narrow bed in his spartan bedchamber. With an efficiency of motion, he folded her jacket and dress over the lone chair set beside a small desk. He returned to the bed, sitting to unlace her stays. “Where is the vicar?” she asked. He stilled then looked at her face. “At the church. He spends the afternoons in his office there.” He smiled as he lifted the undergarment away from her aching breasts. “Asleep, mostly.” He relieved her of her half boots, caressing the arches of her feet. He had surprisingly strong hands, and she longed to feel them all over her body. He bent his head to kiss her lips as he ran his hands over her. Every inch of her flesh was on fire as he began to move his fingers up and under her petticoat. “Sinjun.” He paused just over her pussy then cupped her mound. “You’re scalding hot.” Her face flamed as hot as her woman’s flesh in that moment. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” He straightened, his breath coming fast as he ran his hand over his face. “I…I want you.”

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When he appeared to hesitate, she reached up and touched his cheek. “Take me, Sinjun.” Her words seemed to break through to him. He shed his own sober clothes and stood there for a moment. He was so beautiful. He had strong arms, long legs. Golden hair swirled over his sculpted chest. But his manhood! True, she had only glimpsed Marcus’s once on that long-ago night, but Sinjun’s seemed just as large. Just as compelling. It was long and thick, its broad head weeping one drop of pearly liquid. He stared down at her, stroking himself. “I’ve dreamed of you here, Jane.” He growled as he moved his hand up and down, closing his eyes. “Here in this bed, I’ve called out your name as I spilled my seed.” His words sounded like a confession. “Are you ashamed of your weakness, Sinjun?” she asked softly. He opened his eyes as he shook his head. “No. Not if it brought you here to me.” She lifted her petticoat, revealing her damp drawers. “Touch me. Again.” He sat beside her once more, skimming his fingers over the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs as he sought her pussy. “I have to see you.” She heard a slight tearing of fabric as he removed her petticoat and drawers. A whisper of air danced over her flesh as he gripped her thighs. “I have never seen such beauty,” he rasped. Before she could guess what he was about, he placed his mouth on her. “Sinjun!” “Sweet Jane,” he sighed, lapping at her flesh. “Mmm, so sweet here as well.” His tongue stabbed at her, mimicking the motions he’d made as he’d kissed her. She’d never known of such a thing! Marcus’s strong

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fingers had caressed her, but this? This was beyond her realm of understanding. Swirling and sucking, Sinjun brought her unerringly toward climax. She was soaking wet, pulsing and aching as he ate her. She began that climb toward pleasure she’d only found in her own bed, save for that time with Marcus. “Yes!” she cried. “Oh, Sinjun!” She writhed beneath him, her legs held tight by his hands as she found her release. Her breath seared her lungs as she sought to return to herself. When she opened her eyes, Sinjun focused a hot stare on her face. “You are amazing in your release.” She could not form words of agreement or contradiction. She just wanted more of him right now. As if knowing what she needed, he moved to cover her. Slowing, inch by hard inch, he began to enter her. Her maidenhead met his advancing cock, and he stilled. “Please, Sinjun,” she panted, her hands gripping his shoulders. “Now. Please!” He pushed through, groaning as he filled her. He braced himself above her and began to move, tentative motions that grew to driving thrusts as she took all of him. His body was hard above her, sweat slicked both of them, and she knew she would remember this for the rest of her life. As she came again she heard him shout out her name. He flooded her with his seed as he shuddered and fell upon her. Kisses rained down on her face, his lips as soft and tender as they looked. “Ah, Jane,” he whispered. She held him close, tears stinging her eyes. Her virtue was gone, as surely as if she’d married Marcus and had their wedding night as planned. Sinjun was still within her, throbbing in tune with his heartbeat against her cheek. A sob escaped her.

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He withdrew and held himself away from her, his face holding an expression of worry. “I am sorry. I lost myself there. I know I hurt you.” She shook her head, a tear snaking down over one cheek. “It was nothing, really.” He leaned on one elbow and reached up to brush away her tear with his thumb. “Why are you crying?” He smiled. “I know we preceded our wedding night, but—” “Wedding night?” She gasped. Struggling to a seated position, she tried to cover herself with her damp and wrinkled chemise. “Sinjun, I cannot marry you!” He frowned, somehow managing to project his customarily stern image despite his nudity. “You must. We have been intimate, Jane.” “Yes,” she said, eyeing his naked cock. As she watched, it started to fill again. “And likely will again.” He cursed and pulled the linens over himself. “You were a virgin. That was clear.” “Yes, Sinjun. In body.” “What are you saying?” She closed her eyes, gathering her strength, and faced him once more. “I had relations with another. With Marcus Rothchild.” “Your employer?” She blinked. “Then you know? Well, you cannot know all of it.” “You nearly wed.” Cold dread pooled in her belly. She wouldn’t ask him how he’d learned of it. Not at present. “Yes. And I still love him.” “You…” He looked stricken, pain flitting over his perfect features. “You gave yourself to me.” She nodded, tears threatening once more. “I wanted you. I…care for you, too.” His lips thinned, and he gave a nod. “This is not over, Jane. Depend upon it.”

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She wanted to know what he meant by that, but she could not ask, loath to see the hurt on his face again. He gently helped her up and got her reasonably put together. After placing a tender kiss on her lips, sweet and fleeting, he sent her back toward Moor’s End. Oh, the pleasure he’d given her! The wicked delight of his mouth on her pussy. The connection she’d felt as he’d entered her body. The passion they’d shared as he’d moved his cock so deep within her. It was not over, he’d said. What could that mean? A woman like her, torn between two men and craving both of them, would surely end her days alone. It would be her punishment, though she almost longed for her penance. Without temptation perhaps she could at last possess the control over herself that she craved. The air grew colder as she walked away from the vicarage. She was but a mile from Moor’s End now. However could she face his sisters after what she’d done? **** Sinjun put his bedchamber to rights, pausing now and again to relive the passion they’d shared here. Jane had been amazing, hot and responsive and everything he could want. She still loved Rothchild, that bastard! The man had used her very ill, and yet she held him in her heart. Well, she’d held Sinjun in her body. He’d been the one to take her. To lick her pussy and press his cock as far inside her as it could go. It had been her first time, but it would not be their last. He wanted Jane like he’d never desired another woman. He’d tasted her, taken her, and he would not give her up. He had asked her to the vicarage to talk. To discuss their attraction and see if something could be done about it. But when she’d said his name, her voice soft and husky, he’d been unable to keep from kissing her. His conscience might balk, but his body was sated. He’d claimed her mouth, her tongue tangling with his. He’d claimed her

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cunt, her flesh grasping and growing wet as he’d eaten her. She’d screamed his name as she’d found release. His name! Not Rothchild’s! He should have withdrawn when he’d met the barrier of her virginity. Instead a hunger had gripped him, his balls pulling tight against him as his cock surged forward. To claim her. To possess her. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. There was one reason for it, he knew. It was because of Jane. He sank down upon the bed, hanging his head in his hands. She’d cried, there in his bed. She’d shed tears of what? Regret? He didn’t believe so. Frustration, then? He didn’t think to flatter himself, but he knew that she’d found her pleasure. Twice, to be exact. Did she feel as if she’d betrayed Rothchild? Perhaps. She still loved the man. She cared for Sinjun, however. Cared for him. Such a tepid emotion. Well, he craved her with every bit of his body and soul. He suspected he could love her someday if there were no barriers to their union. There weren’t, not really. Save for her own misgivings and misplaced guilt. There was nothing else for it. He had to go to Thorncrest and confront Marcus Rothchild.

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Chapter 3 “Miss Elliot, you look a fright!” Jane gaped at Mary Riverton, fluttering her hands over her wrinkled clothes. “I’m afraid I slipped on the road.” “Is that why you’re limping?” Mary asked. “What?” She realized she was walking a bit gingerly. “I suppose so.” Using the excuse of stepping cautiously over the stone walk toward the front steps, she kept her head down lest Mary see her flaming-red blush. She hadn’t expected Sinjun’s lovemaking to have this result. Her body felt stretched and a bit sore, her legs weak from two glorious climaxes. She’d been replete in Marcus’s bed that one night, even as she’d craved something more. After her encounter with Sinjun, she now knew what that particular something was. Who would have thought a man and woman could fit together in that manner? Begging the need to wash off the dust of the road, Jane escaped to her guest chamber. A few splashes of cool water from the basin on the washstand set her to rights. She scrubbed between her legs, the stroke of the cloth causing a few lingering flickers of pleasure. That was of little wonder. She’d heard Sinjun read aloud before and known he had a gifted tongue. But oh, he’d kissed her pussy! It still astounded her to think of it. His beautiful face buried between her spread thighs as his tongue worked its magic. Her underclothes were torn, so she set them aside to be washed, and donned fresh drawers and petticoat. He’d been quite forceful in

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his lust. Who would have thought it of him? Now, Marcus had been desperate for release. As she’d watched he’d stroked his shaft as Sinjun had, coming with a great bellow that had only made her ache more inside. Had she wed Marcus as they’d planned, she would have explored every blessed inch of him. Perhaps tasted him as well. Would a gentleman like such a thing? Scowling at herself in the small mirror atop the washstand, she scraped her hair back into its customary bun. There would be no need to pinch her cheeks for once. No, her blushes would no doubt persist throughout this evening. Never mind worrying over facing Sinjun’s sisters. What if he came to dinner again? “I shall persevere.” These were trifling matters, really. She’d survived a horrid childhood in her aunt’s home and then long years in the orphan school. She’d lived through the attacks Marcus’s wife attempted and the ultimate disclosure of the destruction of all hope of happiness. Sinjun wanted to marry her, and she should be grateful for that at least. Not that she would ever accept him. He would come to hate her for certain if he knew of all she’d done at Thorncrest. Of all she still wished to do. Feeling more composed if not particularly happy, she went belowstairs to join Diane and Mary in the parlor. “I’ve just had a note from Sinjun,” Diane announced as Jane entered. Jane’s heart gave a flip at the mention of the man’s name. She picked up a book from the nearest shelf, affecting what she hoped was nonchalance. “Oh?” “Pooh, is he not coming to dine?” Mary asked. Diane shook her head. “No. It seems he has to leave the county on an errand.” “An errand?” Mary asked. “Do not say the old vicar is having Sinjun fetch and carry.”

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Diane shrugged. “I do not know. The note simply states that he expected to be gone for several days.” “An errand,” Jane murmured. At least Sinjun did not have the funds to secure a special license. Would he force her to marry him? “What think you of that, Jane?” Diane asked. “You were in the village today. Did you see Sinjun?” Every blessed inch of him. “I…I paid a call at the vicarage, yes.” It was a safe admission, since anyone in the village might have seen her hesitating on the walk in front. “How did you find Sinjun?” Mary asked. Jane’s cheeks flamed. “Well,” was all she would allow. Mary pouted. “And now we shall be without him for who knows how long.” “A few days, Mary,” Diane pointed out. “Surely we can manage to survive the deprivation, right Jane?” In Jane’s opinion, quite easily. Would that he keep himself from Derbyshire for a fortnight at least! Then, perhaps, she would be able to face him again. “Yes.” “Still, it shall be very dull,” Mary said. “Perhaps we shall go into the village and do some shopping, Diane?” Diane shrugged. “If you wish to. I have no need for fripperies, but you seem to revel in them.” Jane stared at the book in her hands, a volume of sonnets, and saw little but words dancing across the pages. The sisters continued to discuss tomorrow’s shopping trip as the hour grew toward dinner. Sinjun’s mysterious journey seemed to come most suddenly. He hadn’t mentioned anything of it this afternoon, though perhaps it had been as far from his mind as propriety had been from hers. Where had he gone? He’d said matters weren’t over. He knew of Marcus. He knew that she had nearly married him. Would he? No! Her mouth grew dry, and her throat tightened. He wouldn’t go to Thorncrest. She was not worth the effort of making such a trip.

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No, Sinjun would focus on his work, and their afternoon together would fade from his mind as surely as Marcus had forgotten about their affair. It was a pity that she would never forget what she’d shared with either one of them. Or how she longed for the both of them still. **** Footsteps on the stairs registered faintly on Marcus’s aching brain. He groaned, burying his head in the linens. Another late night with the bottle had left him fogged today. It was a common ailment, and one he had no plans to change in the near future. The door to the sitting room clicked open, and there was a scratching at his bedchamber door. “What?” he growled. He rolled to his back and let out a grunt. “What is it, Fielding?” “If you please, Mr. Rothchild,” his butler said. “There is a gentleman here to see you, sir.” Marcus squinted at the clock on the mantel. “Ten o’clock in the morning, Fielding? Who the devil would call on me at this hour?” “A Mr. Riverton, sir. He says he has a matter of importance to discuss with you.” “Riverton,” Marcus mumbled. His mind tried to grasp some recognition. “Riverton. Ah. The relation in Derbyshire.” “Sir?” He peered an eye at Fielding then waved a hand. “Never mind. Have him wait for me in my study.” He rose with some effort and stumbled toward the dressing room. “You might as well open the drapes. Ten o’clock in the morning. Bloody well better be important.” As he saw to his morning ablutions, he considered the possible reasons Jane’s distant cousin would pay a call on him. Had something happened to Jane? His stomach clenched at the prospect. “No,” he said to himself. “This man wouldn’t give a care to advise me of it.”

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He dressed without his valet, whom he’d dismissed after the fire. Standing before the cheval glass in the corner, he clearly saw every wrinkle and crease in the bright morning light filling the chamber. He could use a shave, and his hair was overlong. What did it matter? There was no Jane here to care about his appearance. Whyever should her relation? “Coffee,” he barked to a passing maid as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “In my study.” The door was open, and Marcus took a moment to gaze upon his morning visitor. The man’s back was to him, but Marcus could tell he was well built and nearly as tall as himself. He had golden hair and a rigid posture. Sober clothes dressed him, in far better condition than his own. Perhaps he should rehire his valet. “Good morning,” he called as he stepped through the doorway. The visitor turned, and Marcus was struck by the man’s perfect features. Egad, the man was almost pretty! “Mr. Rothchild,” the visitor said with a nod of his head. “Mr. Riverton,” Marcus returned. The maid bustled in with a tray of coffee and hurried out. Marcus shut the door behind her. “What can I do for you at this ungodly hour?” Riverton blinked in apparent confusion. “I am sorry to be a bother, but this matter cannot wait.” “No bother.” Marcus poured his own coffee. “I suppose I had to rise sometime. Besides, I have no pressing business today. No business at all, really. You see before you a man at leisure, buried though I am in this mausoleum.” Riverton looked about, apparently taking in the fine furnishings so at odds with Marcus’s appearance. Marcus waved a hand toward the coffeepot. “Help yourself.” “Thank you.” Riverton poured his cup, his hand a bit shaky. Alarm trilled through Marcus’s mind. “Say, has something happened to Jane?”

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Riverton spilled coffee on the tray then set down the pot. “No! Not what you’re thinking, in any event. Jane is fine. How?” He stammered a bit. “How did you know about my connection to Jane?” Marcus schooled his expression. “I searched for her after…Well, suffice it to say I wanted to make certain she was all right.” “After what you did to her, you mean?” Marcus narrowed his eyes on the pretty man. “What do you know of it?” Riverton pursed his perfect mouth, a frown creasing his smooth brow. “Suffice it to say I wanted to make certain she would remain safe.” Marcus laughed in spite of himself. “Well said.” He sat in the chair behind his desk and waved the other man to the chair opposite. “Do tell me what you are about this morning, Riverton.” He sat, wiping his hands over his thighs in a nervous gesture. “I do not know quite how to put this. I wish to marry Jane.” “What?” The prospect chilled Marcus’s bones, but he pressed on. “Why come to me? I was but her employer.” Riverton’s blue eyes narrowed. “Indeed? Do you truly think I don’t know it all?” “All?” Marcus drained his coffee cup. “All, you say? Do you know that I nearly married her?” “But you were already married.” “Yes.” “And now?” “Now my crazy wife is dead.” Riverton leaned forward. “Your wife is dead?” Marcus reclined in his chair. “Yes. The bedlamite set fire to her chamber, nearly taking the east wing with her. Repairs are complete, or I would show you all the blackened walls necessary to prove my claim.” “I believe you.” Riverton let out a breath. “That, however, does not change my feelings about Jane.”

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“You wish to marry her?” The words bit his throat like cheap liquor. “What are her feelings?” “She cares for me.” Marcus snorted. “Why wouldn’t she? You’re as shiny as a new guinea.” Riverton shook his golden head. “She still—she still has feelings for you.” Marcus felt his heart beat for the first time in months. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that Jane cares for me and for you as well.” “What do you wish me to do about that?” “Jane will not marry me, Rothchild. Not while she has regard for you.” There was obviously something more the man wasn’t saying. “Regard?” “All right, she loves you!” he snapped. Marcus stared at him for a beat. “Then why the devil did you come here? Hell, if I were you I would keep her in Derbyshire and never let her out of my sight.” “I cannot do that.” Marcus took in his clothing once more. “Goes against the grain, I take it? What are you, a parson?” Riverton blinked again then shook his head. “No. I hope to take over the living in our village someday. That is, I had hoped to. It seems I’m not really cut out for such exaltation.” “What happened to change that, I wonder? Had a taste of Jane’s sweet kisses, did you?” A faint blush stained the other man’s cheeks, and Marcus knew. “My God, you’ve had her!” “Yes.” Riverton stood, his hands in fists at his sides. “I took her and plan to again.” “You took her?” Marcus surged to his feet and took steps to tower before him. “Blackguard!”

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“I want to marry her,” Riverton said. “She will not. She feels she is soiled by whatever went on in this house.” All the fight went out of Marcus then, and he leaned against the desk. “She is too good for me, then and now. I’d hoped she would save my blighted soul.” “She is good and kind and very sweet,” Riverton said. Marcus eyed him. “You are quite besotted.” “I admit it. She would make a fitting vicar’s wife, though she has spoiled me for that aspiration.” “You blame her for your fall? Man, you were helpless. Trust me, I know.” “I want her to meet with you, Rothchild. To put her feelings to rest.” “And what if she won’t? Put them to rest, that is? Could you live without her if she came back to me? Could you live with yourself?” “I would endeavor to do as she wished.” “It’s impossible, believe me. I’ve been without her for three long months.” “I must have her. I admit she is everything I want.” “Then bring her to me. How the devil could she care for me once she sees the two of us side by side?” Riverton nodded, and Marcus longed to break his perfect nose. “I shall have to convince her,” Riverton said. “What if her feelings do not change?” “Then I shall have her.” Determination filled the other man’s face. “I won’t give her up, Rothchild. Depend upon it.” An intriguing notion struck Marcus, an arrangement that he’d indulged in his bachelor years. He and a school chum had fucked the same serving wench at one time. It had been more than pleasing. What if he and Riverton shared Jane? “I can never hope to secure Jane’s heart again, Riverton,” he admitted. “Not after what happened. But if she has feelings for you as

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well as for me? Perhaps we can come to an agreement that would be mutually satisfactory.” Riverton’s brow furrowed again, and Marcus feared he would have to spell it out for him. Realization dawned, and shock rounded his eyes. “The hell you say! Share her?” “Whyever not? If Jane desires us both, who are we to deny her?” Riverton swallowed audibly. “I have barely experienced carnal pleasures. Is such a thing possible?” Marcus felt a smile curve his lips, another first in three months’ time. “Quite.” Riverton gave a nod and stood. “I shall go to Jane and bring her here. As to the rest of it, we shall put it to her then.” “In a matter of speaking,” Marcus quipped. Riverton frowned again, and Marcus called for the butler to see him out. Marcus prayed Jane would agree. Sharing her with Riverton was perhaps the only way he could have her. Surely she would never leave the perfect parson. Could he bear to watch another man have the woman he loved? It was of no consequence. He would face the fires of hell if it brought Jane back to him. If only for a little while.

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Chapter 4 “He is back!” Mary cried. “Oh, Jane. Diane. Sinjun has returned!” Jane froze on the staircase, her heart pounding and her head light. Diane smiled at her as she hurried by to the join Mary at the open front door. “Oh, it is Sinjun. But really, Mary. He’s been gone all of three days.” Mary waved a hand. “It is of no matter. Surely he will tell us where he went. That fact alone is worth my excitement today. Wouldn’t you say so, Jane?” Jane forced a stillness in her trembling body. “I suppose I’m interested in what he’ll share, Mary.” Liar. How she longed to know where Sinjun had gone! What he had done! After their encounter in his room at the vicarage, and his determined statements afterward, she had been unable to think of anything else. Frightening thoughts had repeatedly occurred to her over the past three days. She could scarcely contemplate them without a riot of emotions crashing through her. What if Sinjun had gone to Thorncrest? What if he’d confronted Marcus? What would Sinjun think of her throwing herself at Marcus all those months ago? What would Marcus think of her giving Sinjun her body now? She couldn’t decide which prospect was worse. Both filled her head with worry and her heart with shame. “Hello, sisters,” Sinjun said with a smile as he crossed the threshold. His steps faltered a bit as he spied Jane. “Miss Elliot.” Her heart leapt even as her hands grew clammy. “Hello, Mr. Riverton.”

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Was that a smile she glimpsed teasing the corner of his full lips? Tearing her gaze from him, she focused on a spot on the floor. “You are in time for dinner at last,” Diane admonished as she shut the door behind him. “Mary has been speaking of nothing but your mysterious journey for the past three days. She’s driven us quite mad, is that not so Jane?” Jane made a small sound of agreement while Mary laughed. “No matter,” Mary said, grabbing Sinjun’s arm. “Tell us where you went under the cloak of darkness.” “Hardly so, Mary,” Sinjun told her. “I had a pressing matter to see to, and a delay would not have aided its completion.” Jane searched his face now, seeing once more that determination in his blue eyes. Oh, he hadn’t gone to Marcus! “Well, I’ll tell cook to stretch the stew,” Diane said, heading for the kitchen. “Now tell us,” Mary commanded, pulling Sinjun down on the settee beside her. “We have been at sixes and sevens, worrying over you.” His brow furrowed. “It was not my intention to worry any of you.” Jane swallowed. “We persevered.” Sinjun laughed softly. “Ah.” “Where did you go, Sinjun?” Mary asked. “I traveled into Warwickshire,” he said simply. Jane struggled to relax her quaking limbs. Warwickshire. That was it, then. He’d gone to Thorncrest to see Marcus. Over dinner he told Mary and Diane the inconsequential details of his trip, the weather, scenery and the like. Jane could barely listen. He would speak to her later, she knew. He would tell her what he’d found at Thorncrest and that he knew all that she had done there. The cook’s fine stew had as little taste in her mouth as the porridge served at the orphanage.

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After dinner, Sinjun asked Mary to take out the cards. Jane declined the offer of a game of whist, so he and Mary played piquet. Diane worked her needle while Jane once more pretended to read that same tired book of sonnets. The clock on the mantel appeared to have broken at some point after dinner, for now its hands moved with an aching slowness that nearly drove Jane mad. At last the game was finished, and Mary was apparently out of conversation. She yawned, and Sinjun pressed her to go seek her bed. The younger girl did so, leaving the three of them in the parlor. “Diane, have you any coffee?” Sinjun asked. “Coffee, Sinjun? At this hour?” she asked. “I have a bit of work awaiting me at the vicarage, and I daresay that stew will speed my slumber otherwise.” Diane nodded and went into the kitchen. Jane knew full-well Sinjun’s intentions. Diane would prepare the pot herself, leaving them alone for a time. Confirming her suspicions, he came and sat in the chair beside her. “Jane, I must speak to you.” He was so close to her she gasped. “Sinjun.” He smiled, that flash of mirth that always caught her off guard. “Ah, it is Sinjun again.” She flushed hot. “You must not speak with such familiarity here,” she whispered. “I care not what my sisters think.” He softened that comment with another smile. “I hope they presume I wish to marry you. For I do.” “I will not speak of that again.” “No? Well, that is not tonight’s topic.” She took a breath. “You went to Thorncrest.” “Yes.” His expression sobered. “I want you to return there with me.” Her heart gave a flutter at the thought. Whether it was fear or anticipation, she couldn’t determine. “Why?” She had to know.

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“I’d like you to meet with Rothchild. He…he is no longer married.” Jane stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?” “His wife is dead.” The room seemed to tilt, and she gripped the arms of the chair. “W–why would that matter to me now?” His lips thinned a bit. “Because you gave yourself to me, is that what you mean?” “No!” She looked about for Diane then leaned toward Sinjun. “I meant because I have put that part of my life behind me.” He shook his head. “If only that were true. I want you to come to Thorncrest with me, Jane. Speak with Rothchild and determine if you do truly still love him.” She gaped at him. “Sinjun, I cannot.” “I will put forth to my sisters that I am bringing you to see to a legal matter.” Guilt assailed her. “I have brought you quite low, haven’t I?” He waved a hand. “Nonsense. I’ll speak with Diane this very evening. Can you be ready to leave on the morrow?” “I suppose. I have so few things.” “Then it is settled. I shall call with a carriage around eight.” “All right.” Her mind raced but not with what few items she had to see ready for the journey. No. Spending a few hours alone with Sinjun in a carriage would be trial enough. Seeing Marcus again? She could not begin to imagine that discomfort. Diane served the coffee, and Jane excused herself. “I fear I am quite done in.” Sinjun stood and bowed. “Good night, Miss Elliot.” “Good night, Mr. Riverton.” She faced his sister. “Good night, Diane.” “I shall see you in the morning,” Diane said with a smile.

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Jane turned her back to his sister and climbed the stairs. Oh, what would Diane think when Sinjun spun his tale? That was only a minor concern at present, however. She would pack her meager belongings and be ready for him in the morning, despite his sister’s suspicions. There was a far more pressing matter weighing on her. Tomorrow she would see Marcus. **** Marcus brooded in his study, the smudged and careworn missive on the desk before him. He’d read it a thousand times since Fielding had brought it to him yesterday. Riverton had written to advise of his and Jane’s imminent arrival. He’d most likely gone to her directly upon his return to Derbyshire. Apparently he’d had no trouble convincing Jane to come to Thorncrest. Was it because she wanted to see him? Or that she wanted to please her handsome beau? “It’s not likely she wants to see your hideous visage,” he grumbled to himself. “Fielding!” A shuffle of steps brought his butler to the study’s open door. “Yes, sir?” “Have you readied the rooms for our guests?” “Yes, sir. I thought to put the lady in the Rose Room with the gentleman in the west guest chamber.” Marcus hid his smile. The Rose Room was close to the master’s chambers while Riverton’s proposed room was far from both. No doubt Fielding had designs of his own. He’d always liked Jane and had been crestfallen when she’d gone. “I trust that meets with your approval?” the butler asked. “Quite so. They should arrive soon. Do look out for them.” Fielding bowed and left Marcus alone with Riverton’s missive. He rubbed a hand over his bristled jaw. The bottle of brandy beckoned, but he would not give in to temptation. It was enough that Jane would find him harsh and ugly compared to the perfect preacher. He would

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not let her find him drunk as well. He squeezed his eyes shut. What would Jane think of him now? How much time passed he wasn’t certain, but the sky was stained red through the windows when Fielding once more stood in the doorway. “Mr. Rothchild?” Marcus turned from the windows to face the butler. “Yes?” “They have arrived, sir. I’ve put them in the parlor.” With another bow, Fielding left once more. Marcus nodded and came to his feet, his belly tight. He caught a glimpse of himself in the darkening windows as he stood. Hair wild, face harsh, he was hardly a man to tempt the sweet girl to come back to him. He went to join his guests in the parlor. Riverton was standing quite close to Jane, a look of worry on his shining face. Marcus dismissed him in the next heartbeat, for his gaze fell on Jane herself. She was turned slightly from him, her profile smooth and clear as she nodded to something Riverton said. A small smile curved her full lips, and Marcus felt the tightness in his stomach ease. She was back at Thorncrest. That was all that mattered. “Good evening,” Marcus said. They both turned toward him, eyes wide. Ignoring the younger man, Marcus slowly walked toward Jane. “Jane, it’s good to see you.” She cast a measuring look over his face then nodded. Her smile was gone now, and her dainty brow furrowed. “Marcus.” How he’d missed the sound of his name on her lips! He grabbed for her, forcing himself to hold only to her arms. “Jane, Jane.” He couldn’t stop himself from pulling her close. She smelled so fresh and sweet, cleansing his lungs. Gone was the smoke from the fire. Gone was the paint of restoration. There was only Jane now. She softened for a second there in his arms, a breath like a whisper escaping her. “Rothchild,” he heard Riverton snap.

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Jane pulled back, and Marcus dropped his hands from her. “Forgive me.” Affecting that air of absent joviality he’d projected when her new protector had last visited, he waved them toward the settee. “Sit. Dinner won’t be served for a while yet. Would you like some refreshment?” Jane shook her head and sat. A closer look showed worry on her face, her lips pursed a bit and her cheeks a little pale. She turned those gorgeous hazel eyes on him and he wished he was worthy of the concern he saw there. “Are you well, Jane?” he asked. “Quite,” she answered. “The Rivertons have been most kind to me.” The man beside her squared his shoulders. “Jane has become like one of the family.” Marcus eyed him. “No doubt. Quite close are the Rivertons, then?” It was the pretty boy’s turn to purse his well-formed lips. “If you wish to say something, do so.” Marcus smiled. “I am pleased to have two guests in my home, is all. I know I haven’t always enjoyed entertaining, however. Isn’t that right, Jane?” “Yes,” Jane said. “Though perhaps that was due to another resident of Thorncrest?” Marcus cursed softly. “Riverton told you, then? She is dead.” Jane blinked. “She was a sad creature. I am sorry.” “I am not,” he admitted. Riverton sucked in a breath, and Marcus held up a hand to still him. “Before you begin your sermon, allow me to tell Jane something?” Riverton’s hands were in fists. “Watch your words, Rothchild.” Marcus inclined his head and faced Jane once more. “Forgive me, Jane. I never should have kept that secret from you. Hell, I never should have brought you to this house.”

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“You needed someone to care for Adele. She escaped the fire, I pray?” Marcus nodded. “Yes. I sent the child away to school after you left. She is in good health and enjoying her studies.” He smiled. “You performed a miracle on more than one member of this household.” Jane’s cheeks turned pink. “She just needed a bit of attention, Marcus. I’m glad she is well and happy.” “Is that all you wished to say?” Riverton asked. Marcus shot him a look. “In your presence, yes.” “Well, you shall not meet with Jane without my presence.” He came to his feet. “You have a fierce protector in your Mr. Riverton, Jane. But remember, Riverton. This is my home.” The younger man glared at him but said no more. Jane continued to look from one to the other, her expression closed. It was as Marcus feared, then. She compared them and found him lacking. He’d offered his hospitality to the both of them, and now he would have to endure their presence with the knowledge that Riverton would get to keep her now.

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Chapter 5 Jane kept herself quiet during the awkward meal, and begged to retire directly. Leaving them to discuss whatever two such different men would, she followed Fielding to her room. She’d been surprised to be settled in the Rose Room. It was as sumptuous a chamber as any in the grand house, and she felt quite out of place. She’d readied for bed and doused the branch of candles. The silk counterpane was soft beneath her, but she wouldn’t find sleep. Seeing Marcus again had turned her heart inside out. He looked haggard and a bit wild, and damn her soul, but her body had awakened in his arms. On the journey here Sinjun had warned her about Marcus, that he appeared rough and almost dangerous. Yes, there was that. But he had his wits about him, and that flash of a pirate’s smile that could set her pulse racing. Sinjun wouldn’t come to her tonight, she knew. He’d told her he would let her get settled once they arrived. Her body itched for him, though. And for Marcus as well. She would surely burn in hell for the thoughts of loving two men. As they were only thoughts, however… A soft scratch came at the door, and her traitorous heart leapt. Had Sinjun changed his mind? Had Marcus thought to dare such a thing? She eased off of the bed and walked slowly to the door. “Yes?” “Jane.” It was Marcus! Her damp palm slipped on the knob, but she managed to open the door. He stood there, filling the hallway. “Marcus, what are you doing here?” “You are alone?” he asked, peering into the room.

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His voice was low and rough, and brushed over her heightened nerves. She licked her lips. “Yes.” His eyes were on her now, dark and hot. “Riverton is not in your bed tonight?” She gasped, shaking her head. “Whyever would you ask that?” He grinned that pirate’s smile and pushed into the room, shutting the door behind him. He lifted her in his arms. “Ah, Jane.” She found herself on the smooth counterpane, Marcus’s big body stretched over hers. “Marcus!” He kissed her neck, her cheek, and the stubble marring his face was surprisingly delightful against her skin. He palmed her breasts, growling softly. “How I’ve longed to touch you like this.” He sat up and quickly shed his jacket and shirt. He was powerfully built, with wide sculpted shoulders and a broad chest swirled with dark hair. Her mouth went dry at the thought of him pressing that magnificent body to hers. Before she could do more than gawk at him, he returned his attention to her. Her night dress was soon unlaced, baring her breasts to his hands. The friction of his callused palms over her aching breasts caused her to gasp. He closed his mouth over one nipple and sucked. Parting her legs with his thigh, he rubbed himself against her. His cock was huge in his trousers, hot and heavy, and her pussy began to quiver in anticipation. “Will you take me, Marcus?” she asked, breathless. He lifted his head and stared at her. “Do you want me, Jane? After Riverton?” Aghast, she sucked in a breath. “He told you!” “I got it out of him.” She pulled away from him. “This is what you were discussing after dinner, then?” “No. When he called on me before.”

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“Then you knew?” She sat up and righted her night dress. “You knew and still you welcomed us here? What are you about?” “I had to see you,” he said in a rush. “I knew it was but a matter of time before you married him. I had to see you once more.” His face, so dear, was intensity personified. “Why?” she asked. “Because I still love you.” Her head began to pound. “You love me?” He leaned forward and kissed her neck. “Riverton said you love me, too.” “He had no right to tell you that!” “I pried that out of him as well.” Marcus flashed that smile again. “Let me love you, Jane? Just once?” “Once?” The thought of Marcus taking her, bringing them both to pleasure, was overwhelming. But to think it would only be the one time? That would be torture indeed. “Oh, Marcus. So much has happened since that morning.” “I can’t say how sorry I am for the way you learned of my marriage. But tonight, Jane? I promise I won’t hurt you. Do you believe me?” “I know you would never hurt me,” she murmured. “But only once?” He froze, then lifted his head to face her again. “What are you saying? You wish to be mine again?” She gave a quick shake of her head. “No.” It was shameful to admit such a thing, but she was nothing if not honest. “I meant that I wouldn’t want you only one time. Neither would I wish to give up—” Her words were lost as Marcus crushed his mouth to hers. She’d started to tell him that she didn’t want to give up Sinjun either, her tattered reputation be damned. That disclosure would have to wait, for all she could think of now were his fingers stroking her pussy as he licked and sucked on her nipples.

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“Are you ready, Jane?” he rasped, teasing and tormenting her little nub of pleasure. “Yes, Marcus!” He shifted and drove his cock deep inside of her. She cried out, her body stretching to adjust to his long, thick shaft. He moved fast within her, pounding as she tried to keep a grip on her scattered thoughts. It was like her time with Sinjun but different as well. He was different, and she wanted him so much she began to sob. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. “God save me, I cannot stop.” “Make me come, Marcus!” Nodding, he held himself above her and reached down to touch her. “Your clit, Jane.” He hitched in a breath. “Just one touch and you’ll—” His fingers found her, and she bucked wildly, waves of pleasure crashing over her. He continued to move, braced on his arms now as his cock filled her again and again. He groaned as he began to come, driving deep to spill his seed. “Ah, Jane…” She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. He was inside of her, and she had begged him. Less than a week after her fall with Sinjun she took another man inside of her. Keeping her eyes closed, she pushed at his shoulders. “Leave me, Marcus.” “Jane, I did hurt you.” “No.” “What is it?” He grasped her shoulders. “Tell me!” “Marcus, please leave me!” He withdrew from her, and she turned on her side. She sensed him standing beside the bed for several minutes, but she could not face him again. At last he let himself out of the chamber. Tears burned her throat. How could she tell him that she’d wanted him? That she wanted him still? And her biggest sin of all? She wanted Sinjun as well.

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**** Sinjun was slow to awaken. It was a good thing that he had no duties calling to him today. He’d had such wild dreams in the night, images of Jane and Rothchild in each other’s arms. Flashes of the man fucking her, the two of them laughing afterward about her trifle with him at the vicarage. He hadn’t stayed with their host long after Jane went abovestairs. They had nothing to talk about, really. Not without Jane present. How would Rothchild broach his suggestion to her? What would her reaction be? He rose and went about his morning ablutions. Dressed in his usual neat attire, he went to Jane’s chamber. He found the door open and no Jane within. The bed was unmade. He eyed the rumpled counterpane. She was such a little thing. He’d seen her bed at Moor’s End and never known her to be such a restless sleeper. According to Diane, her bed often looked almost as neat as if no one had passed the night there. Had she missed him in the wee hours as he had her? Something caught his eye, a crumpled white cloth just inside the doorway. He bent and lifted it, realization hitting him like a blow to his stomach. Rothchild’s neck cloth. It could be nothing else. He fisted the cloth in his hand and stalked from the room, bound for Rothchild’s study. He found him within, muttering over papers spread over his desk. “I can’t see where the devil—” Rothchild lifted his head, his brows raised. “Good morning, Riverton.” Sinjun tossed the cravat on the desk. “I found this in Jane’s room.” “And what, pray, were you doing in Jane’s room?” His cheeks heated, but he held his countenance. “That is of no consequence. How dare you go to her!”

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“I dare whatever the hell I want, Riverton. Yes, I went to Jane. And she asked me to make love to her.” Anguish squeezed Sinjun’s heart. That was it, then. “No.” Rothchild leaned back in his chair. “She asked me to make her come, Riverton.” He had the audacity to grin. “I did so.” All the blood seemed to drain from Sinjun’s head, and he slumped into the nearest chair. There was nothing for him now. He couldn’t hope to return to the vicarage, not after what he’d done with Jane. And he had no future with her either. She’d chosen Rothchild, and he hadn’t even had the chance to put the question to her. “It is over,” he murmured. “What is over?” Rothchild asked him. Sinjun just shook his head and closed his stinging eyes. “She was upset,” Rothchild said softly. Sinjun laughed without humor. “And you soothed her. Yes, I understand.” “No, you dolt. She was upset afterward.” Sinjun straightened, looking him square in the eye. “Did you hurt her?” “No. I believe she has regrets.” Sinjun waved a hand. “Regrets? What can that mean? She wanted to marry you once.” “Yes, well. That was some time ago.” “I don’t understand.” “I don’t fully know what she’s about, but we need to put the question to her now.” Rothchild shouted for the butler, who came quickly to the door. “Yes, sir?” “Fetch Miss Elliot, Fielding.” The butler bowed and hurried to do his master’s bidding. Sinjun wiped his palms on his trousers. What would he say to Jane? “Marcus, Fielding said—Oh, Sinjun!”

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He turned to find her standing in the door, hesitant and lovely. “Good morning, Jane.” She bowed her head then looked at their host. “What is this about, Marcus?” “Close the door, Jane,” he said. “I believe we three have a matter to discuss.” She paled, wobbling a bit on her feet. Sinjun stood and grasped her arm. “Jane!” She pulled away from him, her spine going rigid. “I am all right, Sinjun. I never imagined the two of you would discuss something of such an…intimate manner.” “You don’t want me to tell your pretty preacher here about how hard you came for me last night?” Rothchild said. Sinjun spun to face him. “You cannot speak to her like that!” “Tell me you couldn’t make her come, Riverton,” Rothchild said. “I daresay that would make my day.” “Oh, I cannot hear this,” Jane whispered. Sinjun faced her again. “I know, Jane.” He took her hand. “Sit. As much as I do not wish to admit it, Rothchild is right on one very important count.” She looked from one to the other, her beautiful eyes opened wide. “What is that?” “We both want you,” Rothchild said. Sinjun clenched his teeth then nodded. “Yes. And neither one of us wants to give you up.” “You both want me?” she asked, blinking rapidly. “What does that mean?” “It means precisely what you presume,” Rothchild said. “And after last night I know I cannot trust him alone with you again, so…” Sinjun couldn’t finish the thought, not aloud. “What Riverton is so aghast to say is that we both want you and wish to have you. Together.” Jane just stared at them, her mouth agape.

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Chapter 6 Jane sat there in Marcus’s study, trying to get her brain to process what they both just admitted. They both wanted her? “Is this true, Sinjun?” she asked. His face flushed, but she saw the signs of arousal in him as well. His nostrils flared, and his eyes glittered. “Yes, Jane.” She should run screaming from the estate as she had after the revelation on her wedding day. She should tell them both to go to the devil and resume a life of discipline. Looking from one man to the other, she could not imagine doing any of those things. Marcus’s eyes, stormy gray and intense, stared out at her from beneath thick brows. Sinjun’s beautiful blue eyes beseeched her to stay with him forever. Both men desired her. Cared for her. Maybe even loved her? She’d never had anyone to love her, not since her parents died. What if she could have two in her heart? In her bed? “My parents died when I was very young,” she began, twisting her hands. “I had no choice but to go to my aunt’s house.” They both nodded, apparently grasping her need to get out her words. “When I vexed her she sent me to the school.” She shook her head. “It was an orphanage, really. I had no choice there, either. When I applied for a governess position last year that was the first decision I ever made for myself.” Marcus stared at her, a smile curving the harsh line of his mouth. “What are you saying, Jane?” Sinjun asked in a hushed tone.

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She swallowed, attempting to put everything she was feeling into words. Her body told her what she wanted. Her heart told her what she needed. “I want you both,” she rushed out. Unable to look at them, she buried her face in her hands. Everything seemed to happen at once. Sinjun grabbed her hand, leaning close to her. Marcus came around the desk and fell to his knees before her, taking her other hand. Even their holds were different, Sinjun’s gentle and Marcus’s forceful. Her body began to tremble as tears dampened her cheeks. “Jane,” Marcus said, bringing his mouth to hers. Sinjun lifted her hand to his lips, trailing hot, moist kisses over her fingers as Marcus stroked her tongue with his. Lost in a riot of sensations, Jane closed her eyes and let her head fall back. “No,” Marcus said suddenly. He lifted her as he had last night and settled her on the chaise set against one wall. “We won’t take you in that chair.” “Here, Rothchild?” she heard Sinjun ask. Anticipation was clear in his voice. “Now?” Jane felt Marcus’s breath hot on her neck. “Yes, Riverton.” He unlaced her dress as he spread her over the chaise. “God, yes.” Sinjun cupped her face in his hands, his eyes beseeching. “You are certain, Jane?” “For God’s sake, Riverton,” Marcus ground out, his hands busy now on her half boots and petticoat. “Our girl has made up her mind.” Jane’s heart did a little flip as his meaning penetrated. She was theirs. Both of theirs. Sinjun stared down at her then eased her bodice down to reveal her breasts. “You are beautiful,” he breathed. He opened her chemise and fondled her, teasing one nipple with his gentle hand until she arched wildly. Marcus’s rough hands stroked over her legs, her thighs, and Sinjun’s lovely mouth began to suckle her breast. His touch was different from Marcus’s frantic kisses of last

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night. His lips were soft, his tongue lapping at her aching nipple until she thought she’d burst. He murmured words of encouragement as his hand teased her other breast. “You are so soft, Jane. So sweet.” Gripping his silky soft hair, she held his head to her. His pull on her flesh sent sparks of heat coursing through her. “Oh, Sinjun,” she sighed. Marcus suddenly let out a growl. “Damn you, Riverton,” he said, spreading her legs. He buried his face between her thighs. “Feel me, Jane.” She gasped in shock then bucked as he began to eat her. Her pussy clenched around his tongue as he drove her toward climax. “My God, your taste!” Marcus cried. Sinjun’s lips on her breast, Marcus’s tongue in her pussy, caused a riot of feeling. Unable to do more than moan, she gave herself over to them. Her every sense was focused on where they attended to her, her breath coming fast as she began to quake under their tender assault. Sobbing as she came, she writhed in their arms. Her breath still coming fast, she opened her eyes to find both of them staring at her. They might be two very different men, but they watched her with identical expressions of concern. How could she not care for them both? “Was it too much, Jane?” Sinjun asked. She shook her head. “Don’t be a prig, Riverton,” Marcus said. “She came so hard I nearly spilled my seed in my trousers.” Amazingly, she felt herself blush. She was still splayed to their eyes on the chaise, her body slowly cooling. It was too much, but not as Sinjun presumed. Wanting the two of them so completely was something she would have to accustom herself to, and lying here between them was no way to do so. “I must go to my chamber,” she said.

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Sinjun closed her chemise and helped her to a sitting position. “Easy, Jane.” His posture was rigid, his voice low. Marcus stood with a grimace, his cock blatantly engorged in his trousers. “What is wrong?” “Wrong?” Sinjun asked. “Yes,” Marcus answered. “She is obviously troubled. What is it?” She could not put it into words. They had both given her the most glorious climax of her life, and yet she wanted them again. They watched her as she put herself back together. Each of them slipped a boot back onto her feet, and she stood. “I shall see you this afternoon,” she managed to say. With that, she left Marcus’s study to try to gather her wits alone in her pretty guest chamber. **** “What did you do to her?” Sinjun asked, ire making him shake. Marcus pulled back, a dark scowl on his face. “I? What about you? Or was that another man with his mouth on her breasts?” Sinjun felt his cheeks heat. “You were too rough with her.” The other man stalked over to his chair and sat, wincing as he did so. He was still aroused to the point of pain, so he could guess what ailed Marcus. “Jane is not the weak little thing you think her to be,” he said. Sinjun bristled. “I do not believe her so! She is strong. She survived her aunt’s home and that girls’ school, did she not?” Marcus nodded. “She told me a bit of it. Life hasn’t been easy for her.” “She’s shared a bit of it with my sister Diane.” Sinjun discreetly adjusted his throbbing cock and settled across from him. “I wanted to make life better for her. That’s why I asked her to marry me.” Marcus snorted. “As a charity case?” “No! I…care for her.”

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“Well, I love her. And you can sweeten it with as much treacle as you wish, but we both desire her as well.” Sinjun shifted in his chair. “We’ve had this discussion.” Rothchild stared at him. “Does this conversation make you uncomfortable? Then how the devil will you feel when we both take her tonight?” “Both?” “Yes.” Marcus leaned forward. “Has she taken your cock in her mouth yet?” Sinjun’s shaft twitched at the image in his mind of Jane doing just that. Her rosy lips parting as her little tongue licked at him. “No.” “There is much our girl doesn’t know about passion, Riverton.” Marcus smiled, a small expression that lightened his rough features. “I believe that is true of you as well?” “I have some experience,” Sinjun grumbled. True, he’d had to travel to the next village over to see to his needs over the past year since moving into the vicarage. The serving wench he’d paid had sucked him down to the root, though. He’d taken her a few more times since that first, plowing her pussy from behind as he held her ample backside in his hands. Would Jane like him to do that? Would she like Marcus to as well? That position would certainly leave her pretty mouth free. “You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Marcus asked. “Forgive me, Rothchild,” Sinjun said. “My cock is throbbing, and now I can’t think of anything but having Jane’s mouth on me.” “Why does that sound like a confession?” Marcus asked. “You want Jane. She wants you. You say you care for her, and knowing our girl she must care for you, too.” “I won’t see her hurt.” Marcus scowled. “What are you saying? I’m too great a brute to practice restraint?” Sinjun had thought precisely that. “You fell on her like a ravening beast. Do you deny that?”

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Marcus breathed in slowly through flared nostrils. “I would never hurt her. Did you see a mark on her lovely breasts today?” Sinjun once more pictured those creamy mounds of succulent flesh, her rosy pink nipples. She’d been flawless and delectable, and he could have suckled her for hours. “No,” he allowed. Marcus gave a nod of satisfaction. “But what of her heart, Rothchild?” Sinjun had to know. “You treated her abysmally before. I won’t see her hurt like that again.” A look of contrition crossed the other man’s face, startling despite its quick disappearance. “I will not hurt her,” he said deliberately. Sinjun wanted to believe him. He wanted this time with Jane to earn her trust. He wanted to love her until they both found a peace he hadn’t realized he was seeking. He wanted her to resolve her feelings for Marcus, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen unless he came to an agreement with the man. “I shall see to it that you keep your word.” Sinjun stood, his ardor at last cooled. “I have correspondence to attend to. May I avail myself of the desk in your parlor?” Marcus nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yes, yes. Take whatever you need.” Sinjun studied him for a moment. He looked as troubled as Sinjun felt with regards to Jane. Perhaps they had more in common than desire for the sweetest, strongest girl Sinjun had ever known. Leaving Marcus to his private worries, Sinjun headed into the parlor. He withdrew several pieces of foolscap and began to write to his sisters. He assured them he and Jane were doing well, though he knew the words for a lie as he penned them. Jane had given herself to both of them. Not completely yet, but that would come soon. Sinjun craved it, too. He hadn’t admitted so to Marcus, but it had been astounding to watch Jane climax from the other man’s mouth. He knew he himself had assisted in the endeavor. Her cries of delight still echoed in his brain, her every motion burned on his memory.

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He set the paper aside and stared at the fire burning in the grate. Marcus had attentive servants, that was certain. Nearly invisible, they nonetheless saw to every comfort. Jane would have everything if she stayed here. What could Sinjun give her? Life at the vicarage held no appeal to him any longer, though he supposed he could accustom himself to it if Jane was there with him. He snorted. A drafty old house with simple furnishings was nothing when compared to the luxuries of Thorncrest. This house would have been Jane’s, too, had matters not soured so at their aborted wedding. It rankled, but he knew she belonged here. Not in the austere vicarage in Milcote, not in her simple room at Moor’s End. She deserved to have all that Marcus could give her. He’d told Marcus he cared for her. The truth was he was beginning to love her and could not bear for her to suffer because of his selfish pride. His eyes stung as the inevitability settled on him. He would have to get used to sharing Jane if she was to have all she deserved. Then he would return to Moor’s End alone.

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Chapter 7 Jane sat in the tub Marcus’s servants had thoughtfully provided, soaking until the water began to cool. She felt curiously empty inside, despite the mind-shattering pleasure her two men had given her. Her pussy had clenched down on nothing however, craving the completion she’d experienced before with each of them. From Marcus or from Sinjun today, apparently her body didn’t care. She just wanted one of them to take her completely. She thought of that first time, when Sinjun had gently and thoroughly taken her, and her pussy pulsed to life. Then she recalled last night’s encounter, when Marcus had plunged deep inside her. Now she craved them both. They would both take her tonight. She didn’t know precisely how that would commence, since they had seemed unable to work in accord in Marcus’s study. She knew she was woefully inept at providing any sort of direction. With her students at the girls’ school, she could be quietly commanding. She’d been able to do likewise with the wayward little girl who’d become her student when she first came to Thorncrest, after a short period of adjustment. This, however? Oh, she was as rudderless as the crisp brown leaves adrift on the autumn wind buffeting the windows. She rose out of the water and was soon attended by a maid she didn’t remember from before. The girl kept her eyes down, respect in her every move as she efficiently tended to her. Jane had the use of a maid previously at Thorncrest, in that short period between giddy betrothal and sobering wedding day. Forcing a calmness she didn’t truly feel, she let the girl do her hair as well.

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After the maid left, it occurred to Jane that aside from Fielding, there seemed to be no staff left from that dark time. Perhaps Marcus had sent them away once the awful truth had been found out? Or maybe he’d wanted to fill the house with fresh staff as he obviously had with fresh furnishings? She regarded herself in the cheval glass, finding herself wanting, as usual. She was plain, if better coiffed, today, and simply dressed as usual with no adornments. As astounding as it seemed on the surface, neither of her men cared a whit for her plainness. She glimpsed a small smile in the mirror. They had divested her of her garments in short order, so perhaps they preferred she wore nothing at all. Whirling away from her image, she left the pretty chamber. She found Sinjun in the parlor, paper and pen before him. “Sinjun,” she said softly. He looked up, obviously startled. Then a sweet smile curved his mouth. “Jane.” He rose and bowed. She inclined her head, unused to such treatment from him. His clothes looked as out of place in the opulent parlor as her own were, but his carriage and demeanor were fitting. His blue eyes were intent on her face. “Did you have a pleasant morning?” She knew he spoke of her withdrawal after those silly tears in Marcus’s study. What kind of foolishness was it to give herself wantonly to the two of them and then run away like a little girl? “My morning passed uneventfully,” she answered. She eyed the papers on the desk. “Are you working? I can leave you alone if you wish.” He shook his head and sat at the desk once more. “I was working on correspondence. I’ve written to Diane and Mary.” “Give them my regards?” she said. “I do miss them.” That was quite true, not that she would be able to discuss any of the myriad of feelings she had for her almost-husband and their sainted brother. It would be soothing to have a woman to speak to

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about her loves, however. She would mask her meaning but try to gain counsel on following one’s heart from Diane. Mary wouldn’t understand, but from their conversations, Diane was not a stranger to courtship. “Yes, this place is lacking in feminine company,” Sinjun allowed. “But Jane is the only female we want here, isn’t that right?” Marcus said from behind her. She flushed then turned to face him. “Hello, Marcus.” His gaze searched her face, his brow furrowed. “How does this afternoon find you, Jane?” Oh, must they forever worry over her well-being? She was beginning to feel like a delicate plaything they used very ill then lamented its frailty. “I may be small, but I am not weak, Marcus.” She faced Sinjun. “After what happened in the study I would think you would believe that.” She sniffed then squared her shoulders. “Aside from my tears, that is.” “There is no shame in tears,” Marcus said with a shrug. “Or contrition,” Sinjun put in. Again an undercurrent of animosity flowed between the two men. “I shall be in the library,” she said, leaving them to snarl at each other. She should never have believed the three of them could be together. She’d been a selfish child to think she could ever have what she wanted. **** That evening, dinner was a trial on Jane’s nerves. Rain lashed at the windows this evening, lightning and thunder punctuating the silence of the meal now and again. Marcus had his staff serve a sumptuous meal, but she tasted none of it. Her mind was swirled in turmoil like the rain outside, but her body was as hot as lightning. Every graceful move of Sinjun’s hands reminded her of the magic of

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his touch. Her nipples tightened against her stays at the memory of his mouth on her. Every word spoken in Marcus’s delightfully rough voice put her in mind of his wildness. The way he’d tongued her pussy had been out of control, sending her crashing to climax so quickly she’d nearly screamed. And tonight they would have her, of that she had no doubt. She longed for an end to her torment but suspected that even taking them both to her bed wouldn’t ease the ache in her heart. They continued to shoot daggers at each other, Sinjun’s gaze holding an animosity she’d never glimpsed there before. As for Marcus, he glowered at the younger man. “Did you finish your correspondence?” she asked Sinjun. “Yes. I thought that tomorrow we could take a walk about the grounds.” He looked toward the dark, rain-streaked windows. “If the weather is clear, that is.” “I shall call for sun, Riverton,” Marcus said, drinking deeply of his wine. “Will that please you?” “Really, Rothchild.” “Serious, you two are like children,” Jane said in her best governess voice. “Arguing over the weather now, are we? Perhaps I should put both of you in Adele’s old nursery.” They both opened their mouths, and then Sinjun smiled at her. Marcus barked out a laugh, and the tension in the room seemed to ease a bit. “Perhaps our Jane can give us lessons tonight, Riverton,” Marcus said. Sinjun appeared uncomfortable with the topic. His cheeks reddened, but she didn’t miss the carnal glint in his beautiful eyes. Her body flushed hot now. Teaching them a lesson might help, at that. Perhaps taking control would give her the strength she craved to worry through this maddening attraction she had for both of them. “I can imagine Sinjun taking to the lessons, Marcus. But what of you? I daresay you will balk at my instruction.”

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His generous mouth curved. “Ah, Jane. I promise to follow any edict you propose tonight.” He winked. “I cannot let your Sinjun become teacher’s favorite.” Her mood lightened, and she consumed her luscious meal with renewed enthusiasm. Lessons, eh? What she knew about lovemaking couldn’t fill Mary’s thimble, that was true. But what she desired? That would surely fill the deepest lake on Thorncrest’s grounds. **** Dinner was scarcely finished, but Marcus’s cock was filled to bursting. Jane’s teasing air was something he hadn’t glimpsed in months. It lit her eyes and colored her cheeks, bringing her beauty forward. He saw that Sinjun was affected as well. The fool stared at her like a hungry child at a lemon pastry. His mouth was fairly watering, for God’s sake! Would he take Jane tonight? Marcus had fucked her last night, in the man’s absence. He supposed that put them on even ground, since Sinjun had taken her in Derbyshire first. What would Jane desire? He couldn’t wait to find out. “What say we go without an evening sherry?” he asked, coming to his feet. He knew his arousal was evident, but what did that matter? There were to be no secrets between them, as per their agreement. Let Sinjun worry over his own performance. Marcus wanted Jane, and he wanted her now. Jane stared at him, her head tilted to one side. “Are you ready for your lessons, then?” Sinjun gaped at her, but Marcus laughed. “Yes. Do teach us what you wish.” Jane stood and regally walked out of the dining room. Marcus turned to Sinjun. “Tonight we both take her. Are you prepared for that?”

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Sinjun visibly bristled. “I am prepared to give Jane what she wants. Are you?” Marcus snorted. “Trust me, she shall lack for nothing.” Sinjun stood. “Our lady awaits.” The younger man left the dining room, all but panting after Jane. He’d tasted her pussy before, Marcus guessed. Jane had seemed startled but not shocked by Marcus performing that particular delight upon her flesh. Tonight would take a finesse Marcus felt sorely lacking. Giving her leave to be with Sinjun while taking her pleasure with Marcus? If it worked, it would be astounding. Marcus found them in the Rose Room, Sinjun kissing her gently as he led her toward the bed. Marcus fought the possessive beast within as he deliberately shut the door. They both acknowledged his presence, parting to look at him. Her lips were swollen, and her breath came fast. As for Sinjun, he looked a little dazed. “Has Jane given you leave to start without me?” he asked, struggling to keep his tone light. Sinjun shook his golden head. “I had to kiss her.” Marcus joined them on the bed. “May I?” Jane’s gaze grew hot. “Yes.” He brought his mouth to hers, giving her his tongue. She sucked on it, moaning softly, and his cock grew harder. As he tasted her mouth, Sinjun made short work of her clothing. And his own, unfortunately. Marcus was forced to acknowledge that the man’s body was as perfect as his face. He’d hoped to have an advantage in bed, being far more experienced than the country preacher. The man’s cock rivaled his own, more’s the pity. Marcus stood to shed his clothes as Sinjun stretched out beside Jane on the bed. He kissed her now, growing in ardor as she pressed her naked body to his. Marcus joined them, grasping her chin to turn her toward him. She gave him her mouth as Sinjun moved down her body to kiss one of her breasts. Her sounds of delight urged Marcus to tease the other, wringing cries of bliss from her lips.

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“Lick me, Sinjun,” she sighed, parting her legs. Sinjun buried his face between her thighs and began to eat her. Marcus watched as his tongue stabbed into her swollen pussy. He could smell her arousal, sharp and sweet, and his mouth watered for a taste. He’d just partaken of her juices that morning, yet he hungered for more. “Do you like what Sinjun is doing, Jane?” he asked her. “Yes,” she answered breathlessly. Her body arched as she found her release. “Oh, yes!” “Who will fuck you, then?” She panted as she opened her eyes. “Sinjun.” Before he could register his disappointment, she smiled and came up on her knees. “I want to taste you, Marcus.” Moving to settle closer to her tempting mouth, Marcus watched as Sinjun ran his hands over her round little bottom. “You’re so soft, Jane,” Sinjun rasped. He fingered her pussy from underneath. “So hot and wet.” She arched toward him. “Take me, Sinjun.” He shifted then began to penetrate her. Marcus felt every shiver of her response. His cock wept for her now. “Take me in your mouth, Jane,” he said. She eyed him then flicked her tongue over the head of his cock. He nearly came in that instant. She moaned from Sinjun’s slow taking of her, engulfing his cock in her warm mouth. Every stroke of the other man’s shaft seemed to make her drive Marcus closer to climax. “Jane!” Sinjun cried, at last letting go of his restraint to pound into her. Jane responded by crying out. Marcus could do nothing but watch her as he began to come himself. Hot suction from her mouth and Sinjun’s shouts of pleasure combined to toss him over the edge. She drank every drop of him, to his delighted surprise. Sinjun shook behind her, wearing his satisfaction on his face. Marcus suspected he wore a similar expression.

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“You taste good, Marcus,” she said softly, her cheeks pink. “It is nothing compared to the sweetness of your pussy, I am quite certain,” he answered. “So sweet, Jane,” Sinjun put in. She purred as she settled against Marcus’s side. He wrapped his arms around her, dropping a kiss on her damp brow. Giving credit where it was due, Sinjun had brought her to impressive climax. Holding her in his own arms, however? That was even more amazing than the feel of her mouth on his cock. “Come, Sinjun,” she said with a yawn. “Come lay beside me.” Sinjun did so, draping an arm over her slender waist. It was strange, sharing her like this. Marcus had shared women before, but that was just sex. Jane was not just sex. Sinjun was not just another man, either. Jane loved him. In the dark of her chamber, nestled in the soft counterpane with the softer Jane in their arms, it felt almost right. He wouldn’t ask what Sinjun’s feelings were on the matter. No doubt he’d be brimming over with words tomorrow at breakfast. The man did enjoy making sermons. Tonight, however? Tonight Marcus would sleep well for the first time in months.

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Chapter 8 Jane and Sinjun walked about the grounds at Thorncrest. They were overgrown and wild, rough yet beautiful, which brought Marcus to her mind. They’d left him in his study, poring over his papers and looking frazzled. She’d never really given the care of such property a thought, never having any to call her own. Perhaps it was not the easy feat it seemed from the outside looking in. “It seems the estate could use a more diligent hand,” Sinjun said, taking her elbow as he assisted her around a veritable wall of rambling rose bushes. Their blossoms from summer were gone, crushed and brown beneath the twisted branches. They blew about in the breeze. “Marcus used to engage a gardener, but I don’t believe he ever gave much care to the grounds.” He shook his head. “If I were fortunate to have such property, I would have a care for all of it.” He smiled down at her. “Especially for the mistress of the house.” His gaze was warm and full of affection. And desire, which was never far beneath his handsome surface. She grew hot then turned her attention to the ruined grounds. “Do you wish you owned such, Sinjun? A place like Thorncrest?” He shrugged, his gaze shuttered now. “I am accustomed to my life, Jane.” She studied him as he faced forward again. He had seemed content at Moor’s End and with his future at the vicarage. Seeing him in this grand house, however, she could envision him as well as

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Marcus sitting at their leisure before the massive fireplace in the parlor. They would wear fine dressing gowns and drink rich brandy. She pictured herself there as well, of course. Curled up beside Marcus as she read to herself. Or perhaps at Sinjun’s side, working the needle as he read to her and Marcus from one of the many thick books from the library. She breathed in deeply, relishing the fantasy for several moments. There was more than sex among the three of them, for her at least. She sensed the promise of comfort and security she’d searched for ever since her parents died and she’d gone to live in her aunt’s home. If that promise was a fantasy as well, she would dwell within the dream for as long as it lasted. “This is surely an indication of the man’s blatant disregard for what is important,” he grumbled. “Marcus cares for Thorncrest,” she pointed out. “He hadn’t thought to inherit, though. His father and brother passed away within months of each other. About ten years ago, I believe.” “He is a grown man now, Jane.” “Perhaps after the wedding…” She couldn’t speak of it. “That wedding never took place,” he snapped. “You misunderstand me. I spoke of his marriage.” Sinjun’s brows shot up. “What do you know if it, save for his concealment?” “The woman was mad.” He snorted. “He made his bed.” “That is not very forgiving, Sinjun.” She pulled away from him. “I daresay you would make a poor vicar with such feelings toward your fellow man!” She turned and strode back toward the house. She’d never heard Sinjun say an unkind word about another, yet here he was condemning Marcus. “Jane, wait!” he called.

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Squaring her shoulders, she faced him again. “What is it? Are you going to once more attempt to turn me away from Marcus?” He splayed a hand over his chest. “I wasn’t trying to do any such thing.” “You have done nothing but deride him since we left his study, Sinjun. Do not think to tell me you did so by accident or by way of making conversation.” He opened his mouth then blew out a breath. “I shouldn’t have spoken about his marriage to you, Jane. At all, really.” “No, you should not have done so. But that is of little consequence.” “What do you mean?” “I was merely teasing last night, Sinjun. I have no desire to take the two of you in hand and teach you civility.” She turned away again, and this time he didn’t follow her. How dare he believe her ignorant of his meaning? He desired to separate her from Marcus. She knew he wanted to marry her. Or, at least, he had wanted to before she’d slept with another man. Marcus had no warm regard for Sinjun either, that was true. Jealousy burned in his gray eyes every time she and Sinjun even spoke to each other in front of him. Fielding awaited her just inside the terrace doors, an expectant look on his face. “Miss?” “Yes, Fielding?” “I took the liberty of calling for tea and biscuits in the parlor, Miss. I thought you could use a warming after your walk.” “That sounds delightful indeed, Fielding. Thank you.” He smiled, a first in her memory, then schooled his expression. “Very good,” he said with a bow. It felt strange to be treated like the mistress of the house but she supposed she was, at least for this short time. She wouldn’t entertain the notion of staying here with Marcus. Not without Sinjun. Surely

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Marcus would not wish to make this odd arrangement permanent, feeling as he did toward the other man. “Jane, are you out there?” she heard Marcus call from his study. Changing direction, she walked down the hall to his open study door. He looked more agitated than before, his hair standing on end as if he’d dragged his big fingers through the mass time and again. “What are you about, Marcus?” He cursed foully then reddened. “I will not stand for this.” “For what?” “This monstrous estate is determined to kill me.” She hid her smile. “Perhaps we can bury you beneath the overgrown roses near the terrace.” He blinked at her then laughed. “Ah, you’re teasing me!” “Am I not allowed to do so?” she asked with a small smile. “I like this side of you.” He shoved the papers aside. “I haven’t seen you smile like that for me in months.” “Whom should I smile for, then?” “You have sunny expressions for your Sinjun.” He sneered. “As he does for you.” She placed her hands on her hips. “What are you saying?” “It seems to me that a man with so little to concern himself would have ample cause to smile.” “So little to concern him? Are you deriding him because he wasn’t fortunate enough to be born to wealth?” “Now, Jane—” “Then what, pray, does that make me? A woman selling herself to one man and giving herself to another?” “You take my words and twist them, love.” “Love?” That stilled her. He hadn’t called her such since the morning of their almost-wedding. “I know full well what your words mean, Marcus. You think to turn me away from Sinjun. Oh, the two of you are more alike than you wish to acknowledge!”

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Fuming, she went into the parlor to find steaming tea and fluffy biscuits awaiting her. Forcing herself to focus on nothing more than the hot drink and sweet treat, she set the two vexing men from her mind. What fools they were, thinking to turn her from the other. She was caught firmly between them, and not just in bed. As much as it pained her to admit, she belonged to both of them. The most painful realization of all was that neither of them would ever believe it was so. **** “Ah, that is precisely what I needed,” Marcus said as he drained his glass. “I detest paperwork.” “Is it not your duty to see to your estate?” Sinjun asked. Marcus glared at him. “What business is it of yours?” Sinjun knew he was baiting him but could not seem to stop himself. Jane’s admonitions of the afternoon had apparently done little to douse his ire at the entitled gentleman. Marcus had everything and he balked at blasted paperwork? He curled his lip as he took in the other man’s appearance. Rough and rumpled, in Sinjun’s opinion he was a gentleman in name only. “You are right,” Sinjun said. “It is none of my concern that you take little notice of the improvements needed at Thorncrest.” “I have recently replaced nearly all of my furnishings, Sinjun. Do you find them lacking?” He couldn’t say that. “I find them opulent and excessive.” “And should Jane not sit on fine furnishings? Have luxuries and comforts a vicar cannot provide?” Sinjun bristled. “See here—” “Or should our girl sit on a straight-backed wooden chair in a dark little room with a meager fire to warm her through her thin linens?” “Damn it, Marcus!”

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His gray eyes glittered. “Ah, you have hot blood then. I wondered.” “I beg your pardon?” Sinjun fairly shook with anger he’d rarely felt before. “Are you saying I am less of a man than you are because I don’t have your money? Because I take care with my words and appearance?” “You are pretty, but that isn’t my point.” Marcus shook his head. “Jane made it quite clear to me this afternoon that I have been attempting to…buff away a little of your polish in her eyes.” This surprised Sinjun. He recalled all Jane had said to him earlier. “She accused me of nearly the same thing. She remarked upon the overgrown and neglected roses, and I placed the blame for that squarely on your shoulders.” “The roses?” Marcus smiled, and Sinjun had to admit it gave his countenance a more pleasant aspect. “It seems that she has no patience for that kind of behavior, hidden though it was behind tangled rose bushes.” “We should attempt to put our animosity aside, then? I find I cannot.” “And you should know well that pretending accord is a kind of lie, Sinjun.” It was, indeed. “I admit that when we are loving her it is a different matter.” Marcus raised his thick brows. “You derived pleasure from what I did to her?” Sinjun flushed. “I enjoyed seeing her find her pleasure, yes. To my surprise, it enhanced my own.” “That is not a sin to admit,” Marcus said. He twirled his empty glass in his hand. “When you took her from behind, her supple body held tightly to you as you fucked her…” He let out a moan. “I nearly came before she even placed her mouth on my cock.” Sinjun marveled at that. “What did that feel like?” he had to know.

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Marcus blinked at him. “Her mouth?” He grinned. “Don’t tell me you have never indulged in that?” “Once.” Sinjun shook his head. “Before Jane I considered fornication a necessary physical function, to be quickly completed and forgotten.” “Yet you eat her like a man starved.” Sinjun licked his lips, unable to keep from recalling Jane’s delectable taste. “With Jane, everything is different.” “Because you love her.” Sinjun froze, his stomach twisting. “I care for her. That is why I offered for her.” “After you took her maidenhead.” Marcus scoffed. “You love her, admit it. Hell, I’ve lived with my own feelings for the girl for nearly a year. Do you think I cannot see them mirrored in another man?” Sinjun stood, turning toward the fireplace. “I feel things for Jane I’ve never felt. Physically and spiritually.” “Like she’s inside of you?” Marcus said, his voice low. Sinjun turned with a jerk. “Yes.” Triumph showed on Marcus’s face, along with an undeniable flicker of pain. Well, he wouldn’t be the one to soothe the man’s conscience tonight. He’d had Jane and thrown her away with his secrets and lies. If she belonged to Sinjun in any manner now it was his own damn fault. “I am going abovestairs,” Sinjun told him. “To Jane?” Marcus came to his feet. “Not without me, you’re not.” Sinjun couldn’t stop him. It was his home, after all. Jane wanted Marcus as much as Sinjun believed she wanted him. In a secret part of himself he wanted to watch Marcus take her this time. Would he be rough and demanding? He wouldn’t hurt Jane. That was certain. If Sinjun knew anything, it was that Marcus put her above himself. As galling as it was to admit, Sinjun felt a flicker of lust lick along his flesh as he pictured Jane’s sweet body taking everything Marcus

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could give her. Her climax would be something amazing to see. And after Marcus came inside her? Sinjun hid his smile. Then she would turn to him.

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Chapter 9 Jane heard them in her bedchamber, Sinjun’s measured steps and Marcus’s heavier footfalls. She was in the dressing room, looking through her meager belongings in vain for something prettier than her plain night dress. She’d had time to think in her solitude this evening and knew she didn’t want to give up what the three of them had at the moment. She’d brushed her hair and arrayed herself as best she could, but she knew she was woefully plain. Amazingly, she felt beautiful when she was in their arms. Like a woman worthy of their devotion. “Jane?” she heard Sinjun call, anticipation in his voice. “Come out here,” Marcus commanded. She opened the door and stepped into the chamber. Both of them stared at her, and she felt the heat of their gazes to her core. Her pussy began to throb, flooding with moisture. Her nipples pebbled beneath her thin night dress, and she fought the urge to cover herself with her hands. She had them here in her chamber, wanting her as badly as she wanted them. It was a heady feeling for a woman like her, and she relished the power infusing her. “Have you finished your brandy?” she asked, hearing the husky note in her voice. Sinjun’s tongue flicked out, drawing her attention to his mouth. She wanted to taste him, and Marcus as well. Their kisses were far more intoxicating that anything poured at Thorncrest. “Hang the brandy,” Marcus said, echoing her thoughts. He grabbed her and pulled her toward him. “I want to taste you.” Sinjun’s gaze grew hot on the both of them as Marcus plundered her mouth. His taste was rich and intoxicating. She closed her eyes,

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and when Marcus dipped low to nuzzle her throat she held out a hand to Sinjun. “Kiss me, Sinjun.” She felt him come close to gently cup the back of her head. He brought his mouth to hers. His taste was like Marcus’s, of brandy and heat, but different as well. A bit sweeter, like Sinjun himself. Her plain night dress was soon gone, and she felt Marcus’s hands all over her flesh. Sinjun bent his head to give one of her aching nipples a slow lick, and her knees buckled. “Take me to bed,” she pleaded softly. They both murmured their assent and disrobed quickly. She took a moment to drink in the image of the two of them wildly aroused. Their faces were set, their bodies rigid, and their cocks straining toward her. This was what she needed to confirm the folly of continuing on this course. Perhaps their passion was ample compensation for their petty behavior of earlier. She was so lost in her hot perusal of them that she found herself stretched beneath them in the center of the bed almost before she was aware. Yes, she was correct. She would give no further thought to making a protest of any kind despite their childish behavior of the afternoon. Her body craved the passion they would give her now, just as her heart hungered for the comfort she would feel afterward. Sinjun continued to tease and torment her breasts, his lips and tongue causing sparks to dance over her flesh. Marcus rubbed his bristled cheeks over her belly, dipping his tongue into her navel. Her pussy wept in response to the mere thought of where he would put that gifted tongue next. “Open for me,” he rasped. She spread her legs as far as they could go. Peeping open one eye, she saw Marcus stare hard at her pussy. She shivered as her flesh swelled before him. “I can smell you, Jane,” Sinjun whispered in her ear. “Hot and sweet.”

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“And rich,” Marcus said, dragging his tongue over her clit. “It surpasses any brandy.” Marcus began to eat her, driving his tongue deep inside her. She arched sharply, crying out. “Take your pleasure, Jane,” Sinjun told her. “How I love to see you come.” She opened her eyes again to find him watching everything Marcus did to her. It was clear he meant his words. His eyes were sharp on her pussy, his mouth open as he took in shallow breaths. She began to crest toward climax, every nerve attuned to the both of them. “In her mouth, Sinjun,” she heard Marcus say. “I don’t know,” Sinjun said, his voice shaking. “You wanted to know what her mouth feels like,” Marcus said between licks. “Straddle her and find out.” “Jane?” Sinjun asked. She eyed him, seeing his cock weeping, and longed to taste him as she had Marcus. “Yes, Sinjun.” He came to settle with one knee on either side of her waist, his cock tucked snugly between her breasts. Marcus renewed his attention to her pussy as Sinjun fondled her breasts. She cried out again as their combined actions put her on the knife’s edge. Sinjun brought the head of his cock close to her mouth. “Take me, Jane.” She did, taking him deep in her mouth. Sinjun closed his eyes and began to thrust between her breasts, never ceasing his delicious torment to her nipples. With her mouth full of his cock and her pussy full of Marcus’s tongue, she shattered at last. Her screams were muffled by Sinjun’s shaft, her tongue working hard against him. He began to buck, groaning as he spilled into her mouth. His taste was like his kisses, as Marcus’s had been like his. She knew she would never forget their flavors, or tire of them.

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Sinjun bowed back, his cock still held in her lips. She knew she’d done something to him not many women had. He fell beside her on the bed, a silly smile on his face. “I pleased you, Sinjun?” she asked with a grin. He groaned out a laugh and kissed her. “You nearly killed me, Jane.” Marcus came to his knees. “But what of me?” She leaned up on her elbows. “You pleased me, Marcus.” He growled playfully now. “Ah, even with your mouth around Sinjun’s cock your screams were like music.” She flushed. How could she feel any embarrassment with the three of them naked in her bed? Her gaze fell to Marcus’s cock, huge and hard. “What of you, Marcus?” Her pussy clenched, and she arched toward him. “Will you fuck me?” He reached a hand between her legs to tease her. “You are so wet!” His thick fingers began a rhythm the reignited the pleasure of earlier. “Yes, love. I’ll fuck you. But not like this.” She exchanged a puzzled glance with Sinjun then faced Marcus again. “I don’t understand.” “Turn around, Jane. Up on your knees.” “Oh, you’ll take me from behind like Sinjun did?” She got on all fours, and he groaned, apparently recalling that compelling image. She hadn’t forgotten it, feeling Sinjun deep inside her as she sucked on Marcus’s cock. “Not quite.” He began to run his big hands over her bottom. “Your ass is quite pretty, Jane. Smooth and round and soft.” His tickling touch caused her pussy to swell. “Marcus, please.” He reached beneath and stroked two fingers inside her, rubbing them over her lips and clit. She shivered and backed toward him. “Your cream, Jane.” He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked. “God, your cream will ease my way.”

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He fingered her again. She was drenched now, juices running down her legs as she trembled. His finger drifted between her cheeks to dip into her hole, and she gasped. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice low. He slid his finger deeper, withdrawing it slowly. “I promise you that.” Two fingers stretched her now. She felt prickly and hot, and she nearly screamed when he pushed his cock into her pussy. Once, twice, before he pulled out to sink it into her bottom. “Oh!” She closed her eyes, letting her body adjust to the strange and wonderful sensation of him deep in her secret hole. “This will be fast,” he whispered. He held on to her hips as he moved inside of her. It was something she’d never imagined, but it felt surprisingly good. It was not enough, however. She was close to climax, but she couldn’t seem to reach it. “Marcus, I need something in my pussy,” she admitted on a sigh. “Sinjun,” he gasped, apparently on the verge of losing his control. “Touch her pussy.” Sinjun dropped a kiss on her back then reached beneath to drive two fingers inside of her. She broke out in a sweat as she flew over the edge, crying out both of their names. Vaguely she noted Marcus’s shout of completion as he flooded her. Sinjun kissed her again as he stroked her hair. Spent now, she buried her face in the pillow. They surrounded her, seeming even closer than they had last night. She’d just had an amazing encounter, which should have left her replete, yet the comfort of their embraces surpassed even that. “Oh, my,” she sighed. Their murmurs of agreement met her ears. **** “In her bottom,” Sinjun said for the third time.

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Marcus looked up from his paperwork, seeing the intrigue and confusion on his face. “Yes, Sinjun. In her bottom.” Sinjun shook his head, leaning back in the chair opposite Marcus’s desk. “I’d never imagined.” Marcus laughed. “Wait until you fuck her ass. You will imagine that and more.” “Me?” Worry creased his smooth brow. “I don’t know if Jane would permit it.” “Our girl enjoyed everything we did to her last night. Do you doubt that?” “No.” He closed his eyes. “Ah, when she put her mouth on me it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.” “Trust me. When we take her at the same time it will surpass even that.” Sinjun’s eyes snapped open. “What? You cannot be serious?” Marcus set aside the vexing papers and folded his hands. “Why do you continue to doubt me?” Sinjun blinked then shook his head. “I don’t know where this all leads, Marcus.” The man had a valid point. Jane might consent to their desires now, and her own, but for how long? “I don’t want her to leave,” Marcus admitted. Sinjun stiffened. “I won’t leave her here.” He’d thought as much. It would take nothing less than another fire to drive Marcus from her. Why would it be any different for the other man who loved her? “Then stay,” he muttered. “What did you say?” Sinjun asked. “Stay here at Thorncrest.” He hadn’t been thinking it, not really, but as he said them, the words felt right. “You said yourself that there is nothing for you at the vicarage.”

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“I…” Sinjun fiddled with the pen in front of him. “There is not. But to stay here as we are?” He gave a violent shake of his head. “I cannot believe Jane would agree to a permanent arrangement.” “Do you doubt we give her pleasure?” “No.” “Do you not feel pleasure yourself?” The other man’s cheeks reddened. “Yes.” “As for me, I come so hard with her I nearly lose consciousness.” “This is unusual, then?” Sinjun asked. It was Marcus’s turn to stare. “You are woefully inexperienced if you don’t realize how astounding this is.” Sinjun nodded, returning his attention to the ledger before him. “Now, here is where you went wrong.” He turned the book around to show Marcus the tangled column of numbers he’d penned himself. “You cannot count this expense twice, and you failed to carry this value over to this column. This account is inaccurate as a result.” “You’re good with numbers.” Sinjun smiled. “I studied, Marcus.” “I did not,” Marcus told him with a grin. “Well, Jane is hiding in the library this morning. No doubt avoiding any further arguments with either one of us. Perhaps untangling this mess will keep my mind from her.” “You’ll be doing me a service. And keeping out of her hair will work in our favor later.” “I don’t want to anger her like yesterday.” “There, Sinjun, we are in agreement.” Sinjun laughed. “A first.” He bent his golden head and perused another page in the ledger. Marcus was coming to respect the pretty preacher. He seemed to put Jane before everything, a trait Marcus shared. Seeing him love Jane was remarkable as well. They would take her at the same time, soon. Perhaps even tonight. That should prove to both Sinjun and Jane that the three of them belong together. He hadn’t wanted Jane to go, that

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was true. But now he wanted Sinjun to stay as well. He hadn’t expected that. It was obvious Jane loved Sinjun. She wouldn’t give herself to him if she did not. Marcus knew Jane’s heart, even if she didn’t quite know it herself. It seemed at times she was still that orphaned girl, unwilling to believe herself worthy of love and attention. Well, he sure as hell loved her. Sinjun did, too, though the dolt didn’t realize it yet. Jane deserved to have everything she wanted. And she wanted the both of them. Marcus would keep Jane here. He’d keep Sinjun here. He would have love in his life at long last.

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Chapter 10 “Both of you at once?” she asked, her eyes round. Marcus chuckled, but Sinjun felt a sliver of Jane’s uncertainty. The passionate haze that had clouded her hazel eyes was quickly clearing. Marcus had assured him that the act wouldn’t hurt her, and he knew the man wouldn’t harm a silken hair on her head. Even now he appeared to be love-drunk, a besotted expression on his face as he kissed and caressed her breasts. Sinjun kissed her neck, her cheek. “Do you trust us?” He prayed it was so. “Of course,” she answered easily. “Oh, that feels heavenly, Marcus! I have never thought…well, I hadn’t thought of Marcus taking me in my bottom before and yet…I suppose I shall have to bend to your expertise.” “Hardly mine,” Sinjun said, smiling to himself. He moved to lick her pussy, and she moaned her delight. Marcus lifted his head and grinned. “Mine, then!” He climbed off the bed and retrieved the little jar he’d shown Sinjun that afternoon. “Although your juices eased my way last night—God, you’re so wet even now, isn’t she, Sinjun?—I thought we could use this balm to make you more comfortable.” “Oh, Sinjun, cease,” she said, trembling. Sinjun sucked on her clit for a moment before she swatted him away with a shaky laugh. She leaned up on one elbow and took the jar from Marcus. Opening it, she gave a sniff. “Roses.”

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“I presumed you like that particular flower.” Marcus shrugged. “You seemed upset about the condition of the roses near the terrace.” She glanced at Sinjun. “You told him.” “Well, I told him you were more upset with me,” Sinjun admitted, dropping a kiss on her belly. That seemed to surprise her. “You discussed that?” Marcus chuckled and climbed back on the bed. “I told him you gave me a stern lecture as well.” She looked away. “It is the teacher in me. I apologize.” “See here, Jane,” Marcus said, grasping her chin until she faced him. “Never think to hide your feelings from me or from Sinjun. Regret has no place among us.” She looked up at him, then at Sinjun. “Make me feel something else, then.” “Lust, perhaps?” Marcus asked. “What say you, Sinjun? Are you up to pleasing our girl?” The thought of them touching her everywhere, loving her so completely she became theirs in every way, was something Sinjun wanted to experience. He glanced down at her swollen cunt, then at his aching cock. He was more than up to the challenge. “God, yes.” He fell upon her once more, his tongue bringing her swiftly to orgasm as Marcus feasted on her lovely breasts. Her juices flooded his mouth, and he lapped at her until she was replete. She was sobbing now, a mass of feminine passion spread before them, and Sinjun couldn’t wait to employ the magic in that little jar. “Now, Marcus?” he asked. Marcus nodded, gathering Jane in his arms. “Come, love.” He knelt at the head of the bed and urged her onto his lap. “Let me taste these breasts again. Firm and round, I could suckle them all day.” She straddled his thighs as she arched toward his mouth. Sinjun began to kiss her supple back, tracing his tongue over her spine and down to her buttocks. She was smooth everywhere, and he clutched her cheeks in his hands.

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“Feel Sinjun, Jane,” Marcus said, fingering her to awaken her passions again. “Use the balm, Sinjun.” Sinjun dipped a finger in the thick balm and slipped it onto her hole. She gasped, pressing her bottom toward him. It was all the encouragement he needed. Two fingers stretched her, then three. He was panting, his cock pulsing with every thrust of his fingers until he couldn’t wait another moment. “Are you ready, Jane?” he had to know. She bent her head back as Marcus kissed her throat. “Yes, Sinjun!” He positioned the head of his cock between her cheeks, feeling the slick warmth of her. Easing forward, he slid into her. She was so tight here, the pressure different from her pussy but just as pleasurable. “Jane!” He held on to her hips and slowly moved in and out of her. She began to move between them, wriggling in Marcus’s lap. “My pussy, Marcus. Ooh, you said you would both love me!” Marcus grinned at Sinjun before lowering her toward his cock. “And we shall.” He impaled her as Sinjun pulled away, then reversed the motion. Sinjun could feel him within her and swiftly picked up the rhythm. She grabbed Marcus’s shoulders as she began to come. “Yes, yes, yes!” Sinjun knew it would be over for him at any moment unless he gained some control. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took in every sensation of her between them. Her ass in his hands, holding tight to his cock as Marcus fucked her pussy. Marcus’s groans of pleasure as he moved in and out of her. Jane’s sweet scent surrounding them, mixed with the roses in the balm. The three of them moved in an accord he’d never experienced. It was remarkable. “I’m coming!” he shouted, holding her still as he pumped within her.

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She and Marcus weren’t far behind. Her screams mingled with Marcus’s shout of completion as the three of them shuddered in unison. Jane was crying, her head on Marcus’s chest, and Sinjun thought his heart would break. “We hurt you,” he said softly. “Did we, Jane?” Marcus asked. She sniffed and shook her head. “No, Sinjun. It was remarkable, Marcus. I just…” She fell to sobs again, and Marcus shot him a look of befuddlement. Sinjun withdrew and stretched out beside her, running his fingers through her passion-tangled hair. “Shh,” he soothed. She seemed to calm, and then she stiffened. “Leave me.” “Jane, you won’t send me away again. Not tonight,” Marcus said. “Did you, Jane?” Sinjun asked. He suddenly grasped Marcus’s meaning. “That first night here. You sent him away?” She buried her face in the pillow. “After loving him, yes. And now, with both of you? It is too much.” Sinjun pulled his hands from her, helpless. “I don’t understand,” he said. Marcus dropped a kiss on her brow and rose. “Good night, Jane.” “Marcus, if Jane is upset—” “We’re making her upset, Sinjun,” Marcus snapped. “Come. Let us leave her to her privacy.” Sinjun didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to sleep anywhere but beside her for the rest of his days. He stood beside the bed and gave Jane’s crumpled form a lingering glance. Marcus covered her with the ample linens, sparing him an expression that showed he shared Sinjun’s confusion. The three of them had just shared the most intimate, most explosive encounter to date. He felt a closeness to the both of them he’d never expected. It was more than he could have imagined, and in the space of a heartbeat it was gone.

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He’d had a kernel of hope that matters would work themselves out, and his civil conversation with Marcus earlier indicated it might be possible for all three of them to live here at Thorncrest forever. But now? He shut the door quietly behind the both of them, leaving Jane in solitude. Now it seemed that the future he’d never expected to want was firmly out of his reach. **** Jane lay in the darkened room, her body shaking. They’d covered her with the linens and made certain a fire burned behind the grate, but it did nothing to touch the chill within. She’d taken both of them into her body. At the same time. It was astounding and arousing, and she’d never forget the feel of the two men she loved moving in perfect accord as they’d sought release. She’d loved them both with everything she had. Pity she loved them with her heart as well. They would never be hers, not completely. They were such different men, yet she knew they cared for her. Marcus had claimed to love her once. Sinjun cared for her now. “It is not enough,” she muttered in the dark. She would leave Thorncrest and return to Moor’s End. It was a temporary refuge, as it had been when she’d arrived there months ago. Diane and Mary would welcome her, until they learned she’d tempted their brother to sin. She had destroyed his future with her lustful cravings and her weakness. He would come to hate her, no doubt. As for Marcus? He was the same man he was before, strong and capable and independent. He would rebuild his life as he had Thorncrest, and there would be no sign that Jane had ever been in his life. Who was she to believe she could have her heart’s desire? She’d loved her parents, and they were taken away from her. She’d thought

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she would find succor in her aunt’s house but instead found only cold derision. During her brief time at Thorncrest she’d hoped to find lasting happiness as Marcus’s wife. Now she longed for something she knew she could never have. Two men to love her forever. It was selfish in the extreme to think she was worthy of any of it. She was once more the pitiful orphan with no place to call her own. Pulling in a shuddering breath, she felt her strength begin to return. She would leave them tomorrow. Both of them, in their very different ways, would be better off without her. If it felt like she was leaving two pieces of her heart behind, that was her cross to bear.

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Chapter 11 “She’s gone?” Marcus stared at Fielding’s flushed face. “What the hell do you mean, she’s gone?” “Miss Elliot left before dawn, sir.” “And you didn’t stop her?” “It was not my place.” Fielding sniffed. “She left on foot?” he asked, incredulous. Fielding nodded. “It is but three miles to Milcote.” “Yes, yes.” Marcus stalked the entry. “She has always been a great walker, damn her.” “What is going on?” Sinjun asked as he descended the stairs. “I heard shouting.” “A common occurrence, sir,” Fielding said as he left them. “Never mind,” Marcus said without anger. He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Jane is gone, Sinjun.” Sinjun stared at him, his face going pale. “What do you mean?” “She snuck out this morning, headed for Milcote and then God knows where.” Sinjun mimicked his actions, putting his golden hair in disarray. “Oh, God might know, but I can guess.” Marcus knew in his heart Sinjun was right. “Derbyshire?” Sinjun nodded. “Moor’s End.” Marcus sank down on the bottom step, his head in his hands. “That is it, then.” “What are you talking about?” Marcus eyed Sinjun. “You cannot be that dense. She has left us.”

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Sinjun settled down beside him as if all his strength was gone. “Because of last night.” “Yes, but not how you presume.” “We hurt her.” “No!” Marcus tamped down his ire. “I told you we would not harm her, and we haven’t. Her body accepted both of us, Sinjun. Did you not feel it?” Sinjun closed his eyes. “It was amazing. I could feel you inside of her, moving as I did. I have never encountered anything like that.” “I should say not,” Marcus quipped. Sinjun opened his eyes, but instead of the censure Marcus expected, he got a smile. “I will not forget my time here, Marcus.” Cold settled in Marcus’s belly. “You speak as if you are leaving.” “Why would you want me to stay? It is clear you only endure my presence for Jane’s sake.” “I have come to depend upon you, Sinjun.” Sinjun shook his head. “How is that?” “Aside from your love for Jane you have proved an asset in other ways.” “Your accounts? Surely that is not enough to put up with a man you despise.” “I don’t despise you.” Marcus let out a harsh breath. “I like having you around, and not just when we’re loving Jane.” Sinjun’s fair brows drew together. “What are you saying?” “Stay here at Thorncrest. I need a man of business, and you have a fine brain in that pretty head of yours.” “What of Jane?” Marcus stood. “I know that she loves us. She never had anything to call her own. I sensed that the moment she came to work here. And knowing our girl, she doesn’t feel she’s entitled to it either. We have to show her that she is worthy of a home here.” “Jane deserves that and more.”

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Marcus nodded. “We have to make her see that she has us both. If we prove ourselves worthy as well, we just might stand a chance of getting everything we desire.” “You truly want me here, too?” Marcus nodded. “I have never had a close friend, not since my brother died a decade ago. No one to speak to about matters in private. I…” He stared at the floor. “I never mourned my wife’s passing, Sinjun. That felt like the greatest sin.” “You didn’t kill her.” Marcus snorted. “Ah, but I wanted to.” Sinjun stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need to let that go, Marcus. Jane doesn’t believe you guilty of that or any other sin. She came back here on my word, eager to see you. How that galled me! She still loves you.” “She loves you as well. Deny it again, Sinjun. Say you merely care for her.” Sinjun smiled again. “All right, I love her.” “Then it is settled. You and I will manage to keep our arguments to a minimum. With you handling my business, I daresay I stand to come out ahead. That should ease our discourse. Your salary will exceed what you would make as a vicar, no doubt.” “Staying at Thorncrest with Jane will make me feel as wealthy as you.” “Come, then. Let us go get our bride.” “Bride?” “Jane deserves to have a home, Sinjun. Let me marry her and I promise to keep you a part of our union.” Sinjun hesitated then held out his hand. Marcus shook it. A weight shifted off his shoulders in that moment. This was right. For all of them. “Fielding!” Marcus called. “My carriage!” ****

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“But where is Sinjun?” Mary asked. “I presume he continues in Warwickshire,” Jane answered. The younger girl’s face screwed into a frown. “I don’t know why he is there. Is it business for the vicar?” “Jane has answered you, Mary,” Diane said. “If she knew what Sinjun was about, I’m certain she would tell us. Isn’t that so, Jane?” Jane’s face heated. Diane fixed an even gaze on her. She suspected Jane’s concealment. She suspected Jane knew full well that Sinjun was at Thorncrest with Marcus. Last night she’d taken both men into her body and reveled in everything they did to her. She craved them both still. Diane was as innocent as Jane had once been, however. To learn that she’d been with her brother, let alone with another man at the same time, would shock her. “I appreciate your letting me stay here again, Diane,” she said. Diane waved a hand. “I admit I was surprised to find you on our doorstep once again this afternoon. I had hoped…” She said nothing more, but Jane knew what she had hoped. That Jane had wed Sinjun. That could never be. She could never have him again, or Marcus either. She had nothing now, save for dependence on a distant relative. It was as if her parents died all over again. “When will Sinjun return, Jane?” Mary asked. Jane shook her head. “I do not know.” What would keep him at Thorncrest, though? Surely not his antagonistic relationship with Marcus. They would both come to see that she’d done them a fine service, leaving as she did. The walk to Milcote hadn’t taken overlong, and she’d boarded a coach and arrived in just a few hours. During the ride she’d had time to reflect on all she’d left behind. Yes, they were fortunate she’d taken herself from them. Marcus could go back to his solitude and Sinjun to his vicarage. They would soon forget their strange interlude with the lonely orphan. Such dark thoughts.

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“I’m afraid I will trespass on your hospitality for a while longer, Diane. Hopefully not overlong, however. I’ve decided to advertise for a governess position again.” “There is no hurry, Jane.” She inclined her head. “I thank you.” The clatter of hooves on cobblestones reached them from the drive in front of the house. Mary sprang from her seat and ran to the window. “Oh, it’s a carriage!” she cried. “Whoever could be stopping by in a carriage, Diane?” Jane’s heart fell to her stomach. Her freedom had lasted a mere three hours. Diane came and stood close to her. “You know whose carriage that is, don’t you Jane?” She nodded and came to her feet. “Yes.” She could not tell her, not yet. All would reveal itself in a matter of minutes anyway. Diane patted her arm. “Do you see anything else, Mary?” she asked her sister. “A very large man is exiting.” She giggled. “Ooh, he is dark and looks a bit like a pirate. And there is Sinjun! Diane, Sinjun is with him!” Jane sighed. Of course he is. Bracing herself, she watched as Mary pulled the door open wide. “Sinjun!” Marcus and Sinjun entered the house, their eyes settling on Jane. Oh, they were so dear to her. Marcus’s glowering visage and Sinjun’s angelic air combined to steal her breath. She clenched her trembling hands before her, awaiting all they would disclose. “Hello, sisters,” Sinjun said. “Diane and Mary, this is Mr. Marcus Rothchild.” He stared at Jane. “Jane’s betrothed.” Jane’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t catch on to a thought much less form a word. Her betrothed? “A pleasure to meet you,” Marcus said with a bow.

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He was so gentlemanly, Jane felt her heart twist. Sinjun hadn’t ceased staring at her, his blue eyes holding a glint she’d never seen there before. Her heart jumped again. “We thought Jane would wed Sinjun!” Mary said with a grin. “Oh, I daresay she is cheeky. Keeping this from us all day.” “Hardly all day,” Diane said. “Mr. Rothchild, may I offer our congratulations. Jane is very dear to us.” She eyed Sinjun. “To all of us.” “Yes,” Marcus said. “May I speak with Jane for a moment?” “Of course,” Diane said. “Come, Mary. Let us see to refreshments.” Diane all but dragged Mary from the room. The instant she was gone, Marcus fell to his knees before Jane. “Marry me, Jane.” He grabbed her hand. “Come back to Thorncrest with us and you will make us the happiest of men.” “Marry you,” Jane whispered. Marcus’s words struck her now. “Wait. Make who the happiest of what?” Sinjun came to stand close to her. “I shall stay as well, Jane. Marcus and I have come to an agreement. I know you had no say in so much of your life.” “That you had nothing of your own,” Marcus put in. “We want to give you everything.” Her head reeled, and she felt herself sinking. Sinjun grabbed her, settling her on the nearest chair. Marcus came to stand before her, wearing the same expression of concern as Sinjun. “Say you love us, Jane?” Sinjun pleaded. “I love you. I never told you, but I have loved you since that afternoon at the vicarage.” “That afternoon…” she mouthed. “And I never stopped loving you,” Marcus put in. “You’ll be my wife, but Sinjun will be a part of our marriage as well.” There it was again. “This makes no sense. You cannot stand each other.” They exchanged a look of import.

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“We have had an opportunity to clear the air, love,” Marcus said. “Sinjun will stay on as my man of business, and you will be mistress of Thorncrest.” “Mistress?” Her heart began to race now. “I will truly have a home?” “You will have everything,” Marcus said. “Just say the word.” Sinjun glanced toward the kitchen. “Quickly, Jane. Before my sisters return.” “The word?” she asked. “Oh, I can hardly think, let alone give you an answer.” They appeared worried now, almost frantic. She had to look away. Well, she had much to consider. She couldn’t worry over them as well. So much of her life she’d been denied the God-given right to her own free will. She’d been shuffled off to her aunt’s, then to the orphanage. She’d taken the job at Thorncrest, yes, and coming to Moor’s End had been a conscious choice. But to marry Marcus? To live with the two of them forever? “Jane, do not leave us on tender hooks,” Marcus implored. “We love you,” Sinjun put in. “The word, love. Please say you’ll stay with us forever?” She forced herself to look upon their faces again, their visages so different yet etched with the same emotion. Love showed in both their faces. Her heart beat fast as her mind caught up with the choice she must make now. This was where she belonged. With both of them. Forever. She came to her feet. “The word is yes!” Marcus held her hands in his as he kissed her. When he pulled back, Sinjun stole another glance in his sisters’ direction then quickly kissed her as well. The sisters returned a few moments later. As they chatted over tea and biscuits, Jane held her countenance, knowing her joy must be

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evident on her face nonetheless. It was astounding, and she felt truly blessed. The three of them would have a real life together. She would have a home to call her own. Two loves to call her own as well. She had a place of her own and a place in their hearts. She was finally where she belonged.

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 Available at BOOKSTRAND.COM

Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com