Ménage a Must (2 page)

He’d have her drawers down to her ankles before she could say Jack Flash if given the opportunity. Molly bit her lip. One misstep and Mrs Calder would hang her out to dry.

“I’m Miss Calder’s personal maid, and I choose my playmates with care.” Her pert reply earned an appreciative chuckle.

“As you should. Prudence is the byword in our positions, now, isn’t it?”

“Do you make it a habit to proposition every female servant who visits his lordship’s estate?” From Molly’s observations, she surmised he wasn’t a house servant. His darkly tanned skin told her he worked outdoors. Molly could price clothing and leather goods at a glance. His shirt was made from a fine linen, his vest a good tweed, and his boots, though scuffed and smeared with God knew what, were handmade. Though old, they were worth more than what anyone in service earned in a year.

“Ahhh, but you’ve stolen my heart.”

Her mouth dropped open at his audacious statement. Molly fought to suppress the laugh threatening to burst from her.

“And how often does your heart get stolen?”

He flashed her a lopsided grin. “Only on the rare occasion that I encounter a lass with black curls, pansy-blue eyes, and a pink mouth like yours.” He held out a callused hand. “Logan Devlin, at your service. I’m the head groom here.” His beautiful mouth spread in a suggestive smile. “I have a way with the fillies.”

Molly laughed. He was a complete scamp. “I’m sure you do. As to deepening our association, we’ll see…” She let the words hang and Logan’s cocky smirk widened. “I need to get on with my chores.” She took his proffered hand and hopped down when he moved back.

“Logan, where the hell are you?” A man rounded the corner. The irritation on his face eased into a smile. “Is this scoundrel bothering you, miss?” He snatched off his cap to reveal a mop of chestnut curls. He fixed a mock glower on his face and narrowed his hazel eyes into a parody of a threat.

Charmed but not fooled, she lifted her brows to show her misgivings about her would-be rescuer’s intentions. He was bigger than Devlin, barrel-chested, with massive muscles straining the material of his rough trousers tucked into his work-worn boots. His footwear had been made by the same hand as Logan’s if she wasn’t mistaken.

“Forget it, Graeme, I saw her first,” Logan growled darkly. His breath wafted over her ear, and Molly shivered from the unintended caress.

The possessiveness in his voice had Molly trying to tug her hand from his grip. “Saw me first?”

“He is too bold by far, miss, and a fickle sort.” Graeme offered his arm in a gallant gesture, which belied the glint of sexual curiosity in his eyes.

“Yes, he told me.” Molly’s dry rejoinder earned her a solemn nod.

“Well, then, you won’t want to have anything to do with the likes of him. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I never said.” She stepped back from the two men as they shifted to pen her in. Molly pressed her back against the lacquered body of the outmoded carriage. They eyed her like a pair of hawks about to swoop down on their prey. She licked her lips and fidgeted under their intense scrutiny. Yet she didn’t feel threatened by them. They smiled, no, smirked with a seductive expectancy.

The faint hint of healthy sweat, sun-heated grass and a whiff of musk emanated from the men. The words of reproof she intended to utter caught in her throat like a burr.

“What’s your name, love?” Graeme urged. He didn’t touch her but the deep rumble of his voice sent vibrations through her body. “I need to know what to call you when I ask you to take a walk in the moonlight with me.”

His words were innocuous, but she doubted there’d be much strolling done. Shadows cast by the moon provided deep pockets of darkness, which concealed many a night-time tryst.

Wildly erotic thoughts popped into her head. Graeme or Logan? She could choose the latter, whose long lean frame suggested a tensile strength and the stamina of a thoroughbred. Or Graeme with his big brawny body—he’d take her with the power and forcefulness of a bull. An involuntary quiver ran up her inner thighs and the fine batiste of her unmentionables dampened. It reminded her how susceptible she was to a bit of seduction.

It had been a long time since she’d felt a lover’s hands slide over her skin, grasp and caress her flesh with feverish need. Molly longed to feel a hungry mouth fasten on the tip of her breast and the rake of teeth over her nipple. She missed the press of a hair-roughened body ramming against hers, caught in the frenzied throes of blind desire.

Molly trembled, and lowered her gaze, fearing they might read her yearning in her expression.

Composing herself, she gave them a shaky smile. “You’ve almost turned my head, but my mistress’s stepmamma would be sure to notice your interest.”

A conspiratorial grin spread across both men’s faces.

“Never fear, lass, leave everything to us. We’ll see to your pleasure without her being any the wiser.”

Molly’s eyes widened. Both! Their implication sowed delicious possibilities in her fertile mind.

“Oh, my.” She gave them a nod to show they were in accord.

The thunderous slam of a door and a long string of expletives, accompanied by the measured thuds of boots hitting the ground, heralded the approach of someone in a foul temper. The two men spun and blocked her view.

“I feel like a fucking stallion about to be put to stud.” The raw words didn’t conceal the clipped intonation of a member of the nobility. The earl gave vent to his feeling in an explicit manner.

Priscilla must have looked him over like bloodstock she was preparing to purchase.

The two men stepped aside to reveal her presence. They flanked the irate man, their action subtly protective. They might be master and servants, but they shared a friendship. A ruddy flush spread across his lordship’s handsome face, and he choked off the salty words spilling from his lips. He was a fine figure of a man with piercing blue eyes under a mop of inky black hair. He didn’t need any padding sewn into his clothes to make him look well muscled. Annabel couldn’t do better unless he was a top-lofty milquetoast.

Jaw clenched, he gritted out, “I hope I can depend on your discretion.”

Molly sank in a shallow curtsy. “You can, my lord, but if I may be so bold as to ask for something in return…?”

The Earl of Glenhaven’s face tightened with haughty disdain. He reached into his vest pocket and removed a coin.

Molly shook her head. “All I ask is that you don’t judge the young mistress by her stepmother’s behaviour.”

A pained expression flashed across the earl’s face. “Not easily accomplished.”

“You have more in common than you realise.” Molly laughed.

They were both straining under the heavy yoke their families burdened them with. With a little nudge in the right direction, they might come to terms and she’d be free.

She gave the earl a sunny smile. “All you have to do, milord, is make your wishes known. Good servants will see to your needs.”
Even when you aren’t aware of them,
Molly thought to herself. She gave him another sketchy curtsy and walked towards the servants’ entrance.

The housekeeper met her at the door. She appeared to be stifling a laugh. “Miss Calder was wondering what happened to you.”

“I was sidetracked, ma’am.”

“Yes, you would be. Those two rascals are very good at turning young women into feather-brained ninnies. Now, if you’ll follow me…”

She took off down a long corridor. Her full skirts billowed like sails as she moved at a fast clip over the polished tiles. Molly followed in her wake with the images of Logan and Graeme lingering in her head.

Chapter Three

Molly tucked an errant curl into the chignon at the back of her head. Her shoes pinched, she needed a good wash-up, and she’d taken another wrong turn. She truly believed whoever had designed the benighted maze of passages had meant to confound unsuspecting visitors to discourage them from making a return visit to the estate.

Molly spied the banister marking the staircase that would take her down to the kitchens. Her last task for the day was to take Annabelle’s delicate undergarments to the laundress.

At the bottom of the stairs, she paused when she saw Logan murmuring into the ear of a blushing housemaid.

When he caught sight of her, an unrepentant grin spread across his face. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“And I can see how well you’ve been passing the time.” If she expected him to look abashed at her dry retort, she was doomed for disappointment.

Logan chucked the girl under her chin. “I can’t resist bringing a blush or two to Phoebe’s cheeks.”

“I don’t believe half what he says.” Even though she had declared her scepticism, Phoebe studied Logan with speculative wonder.

“Hmmph.” Molly descended the last few steps and tried to slip past Logan. He rested his hand on the newel and shifted his body to block her way.

“What’s your hurry?”

The muscles in Molly’s shoulders ached from fatigue. All she wanted to do was fall into her cot.

“I’ve been up for seventeen hours and tomorrow morning will come too quickly for my liking.”

Phoebe held out her had. “I can take care of that for you.”

“They’re delicates.”

“Don’t you worry none, miss. Sal’s a dab hand at washing smalls.” Phoebe relieved Molly of the sack, shot her a conspiratorial grin, and left her alone with Logan.

“Come with me, I have a surprise for you.” The persuasiveness in his tone and the temptation of doing something that would break up the drudgery of her long day had her resolve weakening.

“It’s late, and I can’t be seen leaving the house with you.”

“I promise you won’t regret coming with me.” Logan pulled her down a short corridor, plucked a cloak off a hook on the wall, draped it over her shoulders, and drew the hood over her head. “Now no one will know exactly who’s leaving the manor house.” He pulled her out of doors.

There was a decided nip in the air, and Molly clutched the enveloping folds to ward off the chill.

“You can’t be that naïve. Every move we make is noticed.”

“No one can deny you a bit of fresh air, you’ve been run off your feet fetching and carrying since you got here.”

“I must be mad,” she muttered as she allowed Logan to lead her away from the safety of the house. They stuck to the shadows and traversed a winding walkway, picked their way through a copse of trees towards a beam of light cutting through the darkness.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Graeme’s place. A treat awaits you there.” He led her towards a tiny cottage on the edge of what appeared to be the home forest.

“I can’t stay long. I will be missed. Bess, Mrs Calder’s maid, is as good as a watchdog.”

“She retired half an hour ago and bedded down at the far side of the attics.”

The heavy wooden door to the entrance of the thatch-roofed lodge opened and Graeme stood in the doorway. His white teeth flashed in the gloom.

“You got her.”

“Aye, barely, and she’s of a mind to return to the house in no time at all,” Logan informed him.

“Ah well, we’ll have to do our best to dissuade her, won’t we?” Graeme stepped aside and Logan placed his hand in the small of her back to usher her indoors.

The tidy room she stepped into, which served as both dining room and kitchen, was filled with guns, fishing rods and the paraphernalia a gamekeeper would have to have. A cheerful fire danced in the soot-blackened grate. Molly let out an elated gasp. A zinc tub with whorls of steam rising out of it rested before the fireside.

A bath.

Molly shrugged the cloak off her shoulders, and walked over to trail her fingers through the heated water.

Bliss in a tub.

Molly shot the men a look of gratitude. She’d never received a finer or more considerate gift.

“Is this for my comfort or a means to get me out of my clothes faster?”

Graeme gave her a cheeky wink. “It never crossed my mind,” he lied blithely as he picked up a kettle off the hob and added its boiling contents to the bathtub.

Molly’s sultry laugh filled the quiet room. “I’d better get undressed if I am going to take full advantage of this unexpected boon.” She removed her cuffs and collar. Molly undid the fastenings on her bodice. A slight smile curved her lips as she saw the men’s eyes darken with desire as she exposed the full mounds of her breasts above the low neckline of her chemise.

“Allow us to give you a hand.” Logan sank to his knees, unlaced her half-boots and slipped them off. He reached up under her skirts, untied her garters, and rolled her stockings down her legs. All the while, he stared up into her eyes, his gaze filled with a lusty gleam. He lifted her leg and dropped a kiss on her dimpled ankle.

Graeme pressed his mouth to the side of her neck and Molly slanted her head to one side to give him better access to the sensitive flesh coming alive under his lips. He peeled her uniform off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. He untied her petticoats to leave her standing in her chemise, corset and drawers. Logan rose and clasped her waist with his big working-man’s hands and pulled her against his body, hardened by the hours he spent in the saddle.

Graeme loosed her stays and her tits spilled into Logan’s hands. He caught her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. He pinched, not to hurt her, but hard enough to ignite the banked needs inside her.

Molly’s breath caught in her throat, and she relished the sharp nip on the taut buds. She cupped their groins, moaned with anticipation when the two men pressed the straining bulges against her palms. She wouldn’t be disappointed—what she held in her hands would satisfy even the greatest of appetites.

“Christ, you’re a wild filly, aren’t you? I can’t wait to mount you.” Logan lowered his head and drew the crest of her breast into his mouth.

Graeme finished undressing her and eased his callused hands over her back. Molly trembled under the combined heat and weight of her prospective lovers’ hands on her skin.

The men caressed all the sweet spots she was aware of and a few more they’d awakened. Logan stroked the underside of her breasts, splayed his wide hand over her stomach, circled her navel with a fingertip, and pressed the hard ridge of his knuckles against the damp cleft between her thighs. At the same time, Graeme kissed her nape, the spot between her shoulder blades, and lapped his way down her spine. She arched backwards as he cradled the full cheeks of her buttocks and slipped his fingers between them.