Authors: Elizabeth Raines
Tags: #Romance
The Sextet Presents… By Male Order [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
In Days of Olde
The Sextet Presents… By Male Order
In the wake of her abusive husband’s death, Hope Adams has no wish to remarry, but is forced to admit she cannot run her farm alone. Desperate for help, she asks her clergyman uncle to send her two men, preferably the type that are more interested in each other than in any woman.
Thomas Cameron has lost his teaching job because of his suspected involvement with Alec Buchanan. When a friend explains that his niece needs help in the Dakotas, the men decide to make a fresh start.
When Hope discovers Thomas and Alec making love, she is confused by her passionate feelings. Ignorant of the joys of lovemaking, she suspects that she might learn from them, and a strong bond develops between the trio. Their love grows, but when Hope is threatened by a man intent on claiming her farm and her hand, can Thomas and Alec protect her?
Genre:
Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Western/Cowboys
Length:
28,226 words
BY MALE ORDER
In Days of Olde
Elizabeth Raines
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
THE SEXTET PRESENTS… BY MALE ORDER
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62241-576-2
First E-book Publication: October 2012
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2012 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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The Sextet Presents… By Male Order
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THE SEXTET PRESENTS… BY MALE ORDER
In Days of Olde
ELIZABETH RAINES
Copyright © 2012
St. Louis
March, 1866
Thomas Cameron closed the door behind him, dreading what he’d have to tell his lover. They were barely surviving on the pittance of a salary he’d made as a tutor and whatever coin his partner could earn as a day laborer.
How were they supposed to get by on nothing now?
He shut the door softly, not wanting to alert Alec Buchanan that he was home. The dismissal had been hard to bear. His employer’s angry face, the accusing words, the vile innuendos. Reliving it with Alec would only add to the humiliation.
“Thomas? Are ye home?” Alec said, his Scottish brogue rolling so easily off his tongue. He came from their bedroom, book in hand. As usual. The stack of worn books in their small abode stood as testament to their voracious appetites for reading anything and everything.
“Yes, my love. I’m home.” A resigned sigh slipped from his lips.
Alec’s green eyes searched Thomas’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s just say that I will now have more time to write that book I’ve been saying I’ll write.”
“Oh, Thomas.” Alec set his book aside and strode across the room to take Thomas into his arms. “That bastard dismissed ye, didn’t he?”
He was ashamed to admit it, but he nodded.
Alec stroked his hair when Thomas laid his head against his shoulder. “Ye’re a damn good teacher. They’re fools for dismissing ye.”
“What will we do?” His voice sounded forlorn, even to his own ears.
“Donnae feel so defeated. We shall get by. We always do.”
Thomas shook his head and pushed away from Alec. He strode to the window and stared out at the busy street. St. Louis was supposed to be a new start for them, but all the growing city represented was more of the same prejudice and hatred they’d known in Boston. And Philadelphia. And Indianapolis.
Alec pulled one of the rickety chairs out from the crooked table. “Trust me. We shall find the funds to pay for this handsome suite.”
Suite?
Hardly. It was a bedroom and a sitting room with furniture that appeared ready to fall apart with one touch. A bed. A chest. A small table with two chairs. The most comfortable place to sit was on the enormous floor pillow that Alec had improvised from a couple of threadbare quilts and some old rags. Yet they paid Mrs. Finster top dollar for the place since there were so few people willing to let out rooms. Housing was at a shortage, so they took what they could get.
Coming up behind him, Alec set his hands on Thomas’s shoulders. “You’ll get another job.”
Thomas nodded even though he knew finding another position as a tutor would be difficult at best. Alec might be able to pick up day jobs in construction, but they lived hand-to-mouth as it was. They needed
both
of their pittance salaries to survive.
“I cannae believe the fools at that school willnae hire you,” Alec said, stepping away and pacing the room.
“Too many people have whispered about—” Biting back the words, Thomas shook his head.
“About us. The rumormongers have had their say. Again.”
The knock on the door was a nice interruption from the sad topic before it erupted into another of Alec’s rants about the unfairness of judging people based on whom they chose to love. Alec believed, unlike most people, that nature had dictated what he and Thomas were. The rest of the civilized world thought they had simply made a choice to sin against God.
Sin
. What a horrible word to use when describing the love that Thomas had for Alec. Love was a gift, a blessing, not a sin.
Alec opened the door to find the pinched face of Mrs. Finster. She’d probably already heard that Thomas had lost his position as the March family’s tutor and was there to collect rent for the coming weeks.
How odd that she never required the rest of her boarders to pay in advance.
Alec crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “Well, well. ’Tis our gracious hostess, Thomas. Come, no doubt, to be looking for a wee bit o’coin.”
She set her hands on her plump hips and glared at Alec. “I’ll be needin’ the rent money. Two weeks if ya please.”
Striding over, Thomas tried hard to curb his rising temper. “We will pay you on Friday—as
all
your tenants do.”
With a shake of her head, she held out her grimy hand. “I’ll be needin’ it
now
.”
“Why?” Thomas demanded. “Why
now
when the others who live in this damned pigsty of a boarding house can pay you on Friday?”
“P…p…pigsty? Did ya just call me home a pigsty?” Her fat cheeks mottled red. “Ya can be packin’ yer bags and leavin’ now. I’m wantin’ ya out!”
Alec reached for her hand. “Mrs. Finster. Dear Mrs. Finster. Thomas has had a hard day. He spoke in haste.”
“He called me home a pigsty!”
“That it is.” Thomas went to the cigar box that held what little money they had and took out two bits. While he wanted to hurl it at her, he handed the coins to Alec instead. “That pays for today. We will be leaving your fine establishment in the morning. Good day, Mrs. Finster.”
She jerked her hand back after Alec pressed the money into her palm. Without another word, she turned and lumbered away as he closed the door behind her.
“Thomas, I understand yer anger…but where did you think we could go tomorrow that would be any better than this…what did you call it?” He winked. “Ah, yes. A damned pigsty.”
“Well it is!”
“Aye, it is. But we’ve nowhere else to go.”
“I’ll sleep in the street before I give that bitch another coin.”
Pulling out his pocket watch, Alec opened it to check the time. Then he closed the lid and stared at it. “I could always—”
Thomas wasn’t about to let him finish the thought. “I will
not
allow you to sell your grandfather’s watch.”
“But—”
“No!” With a deep breath to cool his anger, Thomas plucked the watch from Alec’s hand and slid it back into his vest pocket. “We have discussed this before, my love. I will not allow you to part with the only thing you have of value.”
Cupping his hand behind Thomas’s neck, Alec pulled him closer. “I have one thing of much more value than an old watch. I have ye.”
He settled his lips against Thomas’s. The kiss was warm and inviting—the perfect salve for the pain that had shredded his pride.
“Now, love, we are to church,” Alec said.
“Church?”
“Father Kincaid asked for us to stop by and talk to him while he lights the evening candles. I promised him we would be there.”
That made no sense. While the priest had always treated Thomas and Alec with kindness, never denying them communion, why would he need to speak to them? “Did he say what he wished to discuss?”
Shaking his head, Alec picked up his tam and plopped it on his head. While he might have adapted to the clothing of America, the man still wore the Scottish tam on his mop of wavy chestnut hair.