The Sextet Presents… The Lady Takes a Pair [In Days of Olde] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Cheryl Brooks Page A

flapped her apron at him. “Better take two glasses, though. The master is there ahead of you.”
    Adding another glass, he left the kitchen. The gardens were a good distance from the house, but William didn’t mind the walk. He was delighted that Juliet had chosen such a thirst-producing pastime, giving him ample excuses to serve her.
    He was in love—so much in love he could hardly contain his excitement. His love for Nick had felt this way in the beginning. Granted it had settled into a steady relationship, but that first flush of love was a feeling unlike any other. He knew very well that Nick felt the same way. He remembered that look in his master’s eyes quite vividly. Once that expression had been solely for him. Strange that he didn’t feel the slightest hint of jealousy when it was directed toward someone else.
    But then, this was a rather strange relationship.
    And I will not ruin it with foolish thoughts.
    He’d been uneasy at first, knowing that his part in their threesome was tenuous, but after last night… Oh, my . Nothing could tear him away from either of them now.
    They both looked up and smiled as he approached.
    “Lemonade, anyone?”
    Juliet heaved a grateful sigh. “My dearest William. You truly are a saint among men—indeed, a prince.”
    He smiled back at her as she took a drink, and then he handed the other glass to Nick.
    “You can’t have it both ways,” Nick said with a wink. “Which is he?”
    “Neither,” said Will. “I’m only the footman.”
    No, he wasn’t a saint or a prince. He was simply her slave—and Nick’s. And that was the way he wanted it to be.
    Always.

Chapter Ten
     
    Nick sat across the table from his father-in-law, placidly sipping his wine. It was bad enough having to come up to London for the opening of the June session of Parliament. Enduring a private dinner with the earl bordered on penance, and he was anxious for Clarenhurst to cut to the chase so he could go home to his family.
    Juliet and William had accompanied him on the journey, and while his new wife seemed to approve of his town house, he knew how much she longed to be back in the peaceful setting of his country estate. He didn’t blame her. The bustle of the city had never agreed with him. Nevertheless, he had come. This was one session and one vote he did not want to miss.
    He paused as it occurred to him that they’d been married almost six weeks. Six weeks of continuous connubial bliss—with her, and with William. He couldn’t speak for William, but Nick had never been happier. Having a husband and a wife appealed to him enormously. Too bad it had to remain a secret. He would’ve loved to see the look on Clarenhurst’s face if he were to tell him the truth. The shock would probably kill him.
    “So,” the earl began. “About our arrangement.”
    “Arrangement?” Nick echoed. “I wasn’t aware that we had one.”
    “I have given you my only daughter. You owe me your vote.”
    Nick set down his glass and scratched his head. “Did I sign anything to that effect? I cannot recall ever having done so.”
    Clarenhurst took a gulp of his port. “You signed nothing of the kind. We had a gentleman’s agreement.”
    “Ah. I see. Pray tell, when did we decide upon the terms of that agreement? And how did we seal the matter? Did we shake hands or simply nod at one another?”
    The earl’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t toy with me, Rotherford. You know very well why I invited you to my home, and also why I went to that tiresome gathering of yours and ended up handing over my daughter.”
    “Did you by any chance read the wedding contract?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Only that there was nothing in it regarding my vote on this or any other issue. Nor was it anything we ever discussed. Surely you must realize that.”
    Clarenhurst waved a dismissive hand. “That makes no difference. The only reason I gave my consent was to secure your vote, and you know it.”
    “Your daughter was of age