Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Menage Series Book 1) (4 page)

I exhaled a pent up breath. Just having that man from the room eased some of my tension.

Mrs. Pratt turned to the Justice Of The Peace. "It appears we are ready for you, Mr. Molesly."

No, the tension had not diminished after all. I was going to marry a strange Englishman.

"After, I'd be happy to take you downstairs to avail yourself of one of my girls."

"Is Rachelle available?" he asked, his eyes bright with eagerness.

Mrs. Pratt nodded. "Most assuredly. She has been asking after you."

The man puffed up like a peacock at the flattering, yet most likely false, words. It did make the man eager to complete his task, however. It only led me to question to depth of his calling. He cleared his throat and began. "Dearly beloved...."

This morning I was an heiress eating her breakfast. And now, I stood in nothing but my shift and married a handsome stranger who had bought me at auction in the upstairs of a brothel.

CHAPTER THREE

EMMA

"You wish to inspect your purchase now, I'm sure," Mrs. Pratt commented. She'd ushered the Justice Of The Peace downstairs and in the direction of Rachelle. He had no qualms about performing the unusual ceremony, a task he'd most likely done before; no doubt Rachelle's services were always complimentary after.

Ian moved to stand beside Kane. Both were tall, broad shouldered. I had no knowledge of their profession, but it was most certainly something that involved using their muscles as they were both well formed. Brawny, even. These were not typical gentlemen who sat idly. By their bearing, the intensity they exuded, they were powerful men. And one of them was my husband. The other, he looked upon me in the same possessive glint. I also found them both very handsome.

"I do," Kane replied.

My eyes widened and my mouth fell open, and I retreated, a hand out in a poor reflection of defense. "Surely you don't expect–"

Kane held up his own hand to halt my words. "Wedding me undoubtedly prevented you from an unsavory situation in which you found yourself. I paid a hefty sum in doing so. Therefore, I have earned the right to inspect the merchandise."

Merchandise? My cheeks heated this time not from humiliation but indignation. "I am not some prized mare purchased for breeding."

Kane's dark brow arched. He pierced me with his equally dark eyes. "Aren't you?"

His words left me speechless and I turned away, not able to look at him.

"Here." Mrs. Pratt offered a glass jar to Ian. "This will ease the way."

"No need," Kane replied. "Her cunny will be wet when I check her."

Cunny? I'd never heard that term before, yet I knew it to be crude and an English euphemism for my woman's core. I pressed my legs together. He was going to stick his fingers in me.
There.
I had no idea what he was saying about being wet, but the man seemed confident.

"Nay worries, lass. Kane will have ye likin' it, to be sure. Leave us, please, Mrs. Pratt," Ian said. Not Kane, but Ian. He meant to remain within? Now? I swallowed down my fear of this dominant duo.

Us? I highly doubted I would like Kane to touch me as he planned. Handsome or not, I was wary, and rightly so. Today was too great a transition for me to be anything but.

Mrs. Pratt left readily enough; she'd made her money and was rid of me very tidily. With the vows said, not only legal but binding in God’s eyes as well, Kane couldn't change his mind.

The three of us remained, the room less crowded, yet with Kane and Ian's large size, I felt overly small. Threatened, overpowered.

"You are displeased in your husband?" Kane asked, humor lacing his voice.

The tone had me spinning around to face him, but saw from his expression that was what he'd intended. He wanted me to look at him. At both of them.

"With what you intend to do, yes."

"We are your husbands. We
will
touch you."

My eyes widened and I stepped away, now truly fearful. "
We
? Both of you? I must have misheard."

Both men shook their heads. "You did not." Kane pointed to himself, then at Ian. "
We
are your husbands."

That was preposterous and I was sure the expression on my face showed that. "I can't have
two
husbands!"

"Ye are legally wed to Kane, lass, yet ye are mine as well. I am Ian Stewart." Ian's voice was deeper than Kane's, darker and had a stronger accent.

I shook my head, the tears I'd held at bay for so long now filled my eyes, spilled over to run down my cheeks. "Why? I don't understand."

"As you can tell by our accents, we are British."

"Speak for yerself," Ian muttered. "I'm a Scot."

"I...I don't want to live in England," I said, shaking my head vehemently as I did so.

"Neither do we. We might be from another country, but we are home here in the Montana Territory."

He didn't seem the type of man to deceive, so I felt a small kernel of hope that I would not be living in a foreign country. I was only
married
to foreigners. What an insane notion!

Kane crossed his arms over his broad chest. "We're army men. Our lives have been spent defending the realm for Queen and country. This included a stretch in the small middle eastern country of Mohamir which broadened our perspective on the treatment and ownership of women."

Mohamir? I'd never heard of it, however I was not familiar with the further reaches of geography. "Ownership?"

Ian casually tossed the jar from hand to hand as he would a snowball in winter. "A wife belongs to her husband, ye ken? He can do with her as he sees fit. Abuse her, beat her, treat her poorly. Nothing can stop him, neither law nor God can protect a woman from her husband."

I felt all color drain from my face and I stumbled back. These men were like Thomas. Mrs. Pratt promised I would not suffer the fate Ian detailed. He stepped forward and took my elbow, his grip surprisingly gentle considering his size, his grim words.

"Easy, lass," he murmured.

"Please...please don't hurt me," I whispered, my face turned away, flinching from whatever the man would do to me next. I couldn't survive two men abusing me.

Kane stepped closer and I lifted my hand to cover my face.

"Emma. Emma, lass, look at me." Ian's voice was insistent, yet his hold remained gentle. Turning my head ever so slightly, I glanced at him – them – through my lashes. Both observed me intently, their jaws clamped tightly, a cord in Ian's neck bulging.

"We will never beat ye. Never be cruel," Ian vowed. "We will value and respect ye in the ways of the East. Ye will be cherished and protected."

"By both of us," Kane added, his words solemn. "As our wife, you belong to us. It is our job to keep you safe, to see to your happiness, to your pleasure. Beginning now."

"By validating my virginity. You doubt me and Mrs. Pratt," I countered.

"You will find pleasure when I find that validation, I guarantee." Kane sighed, probably when he saw the skepticism on my face. "Mrs. Pratt would not have left the room if she acted falsely, but I will know the truth. We will not leave this place until I do so."

"Why?" I asked, confused. Why did he need confirmation? "We are married and there's no undoing the vows. I am your wife, virgin or not." I glanced at both men as I said the last.

"We must know if you are a virgin so when we take you the first time, we do it right."

Not knowing what he meant, I asked, "You won't take my word on the matter?"

"We don't know you," Kane countered. "And we will change that readily enough."

I retreated a step, looked up at the man to whom I now belonged, eyes wide with fear. "You...you would force me?"

Ian and Kane glanced at each other, speaking without words, it seemed. Ian looked at the glass jar in his hand, considered something, then placed it on the desk.

"I will say this again," Kane repeated. "I am your husband. Ian is your husband. You will do as we bid in all things, but I can assure you, as can Ian, there will be no need for force. You will be well satisfied before we are done."

So arrogant! "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because you will be wet and want our hands on you. I am going to sink my fingers into your cunny to find your maidenhead and you will want them there. Then I will give you your first pleasure. Are you wet now?"

"You keep talking about being wet." I furrowed my brow in confusion. "I...I don't know what you mean."

Instead of approaching me, he moved to the comfortable chair in the corner and sat down. He leaned back, his forearms resting casually on the padded arms, his legs wide and stretched out before him.

"Mrs. Pratt said you watched a couple fucking and this is why you are here." My eyes widened, but he continued. "Were they in bed?"

"No! You are insinuating I snuck in and hid."

"They let you watch then?" Ian asked, still standing beside me.

"No!" I repeated, becoming fretful at the two men hounding me with their words. "I returned to the house and found them...in the kitchen."

"Ah. Did you see his cock?"

I didn't know how to answer this. Of course I saw his cock. They'd been...fucking! Would it make me soiled goods if I said yes?

"Was he fucking her cunny? Her mouth? Her arse?" Kane wondered.

"Mr. Kane, please!" I cried, my cheeks heating. I covered them with my palms. How could they talk about this so readily?

"Was her cunny wet, lass?" Ian prodded.

"I don't know–"

"Betwixt her legs." He cut me off, his voice deep. "Was she wet betwixt her legs?"

"Yes," I replied, frustrated and unused to being verbally bullied.

"Right now, is your cunny wet like hers was?"

I took another step back and I bumped into the desk. Grabbing hold, I clenched the wooden edge behind me. It was steadying – something to hold onto while my world spun around me. The question was, would it ever right itself?

"Of course not."

"Then I will get you wet so my fingers can slide in easily," Kane replied confidently.

"Why is it so important, this...being wet?" I asked, waving my hand before me.

"It tells us you are aroused. It is a sign, an indication of what arouses you, even when you may tell us otherwise."

"What? No." When he didn't move, didn't say anything, I continued. "I didn't want this. I didn't ask to be here. Thomas drugged me and I woke up here, the only option was to work for Mrs. Pratt or to marry you. I didn't want to do either, nor marry either of you.
Both
of you. How can you expect me to be aroused when it was not my choice?"

"Who is Thomas?" Ian asked, his eyes narrowed.

"My step-brother."

"He's the one you saw fucking?" Kane asked.

I licked my lips. "I saw his secretary first with one of the maids, then when he was done, Thomas took his turn, but I was caught and fled before I witnessed much of that."

Ian nodded. "I ken now. Your step-brother dinna sound like an honorable man. There's nay wonder ye are wary of men."

"You may not want it – this marriage or anything we do to you – your mind may be telling you to resist out of how you perceive you should react, but your body will show us the truth," Kane said.

I was skeptical. Doubtful. Was this what he spoke of? How my mind was questioning him, but could my body go against my very wishes and act at his command? It was impossible, yet so was being married to two men. I could control myself. I crossed my arms firmly over my chest. "How?"

"I know you're afraid." He paused, watched me closely. When I took a deep breath and nodded, he continued. "Answer my questions. I won't even touch you as I do so." He leaned forward, hands on knees and looked up at me, his dark gaze engaging.

"You won't touch me?" I repeated, wanting him to confirm what he said. It raised my hopes, but I let my pessimism show on my face, especially when I looked to Ian.

"Neither of us will. Yet," he clarified. "When your body is ready, then I will find your maidenhead."

I continued to eye him skeptically, doubting him as my body would never be ready, but he was so confident in this!

"Tell me, Emma, what did ye like about watching the couple fuck?" Ian asked. He moved to lean against the wall, ankles crossed, his stance relaxed. Positioned as he was by the door, there was no escape. "Nay your step-brother. The other."

I glanced at a letter opener on the table, my bare feet, the unlit fireplace, everywhere but at him. Them. My sensibilities were being tested.

"Answer me, please."

I couldn't avoid a response. It appeared he had a well of patience and would get what he wanted. They both did. As they said, I belonged to them. Oh dear lord,
them
! Kane's tone – the way he positioned himself across the room, the way Ian stood so casually – made them unthreatening, as if this was their intention. Even so, it was impossible to forget their purpose. This gentle approach was a plan to win me over, and it was only a matter of time before their real ways would come to light. This couldn't be as simple as just two men wanting me.