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“Hmm.” She sank into his kiss.
“Emmeline?” he growled, needing to hear her affirmation.
She laughed, and he could see the awareness dawn in her eyes of the feminine power she held over them.
“I will think about it.”
She shrieked as Max started to tickle her underarm. “You fiend. Stop.” Her laughter pulsed, strong and jubilant, stealing into his heart. He could feel the echoes of Max’s love and obvious joy in her happiness.
“Yes, yes,” she conceded, shouting with laughter. “I will marry Marcellus.” She ended on a soft note, the delight and wonder evident in her tone.
Life would change for them all, Marcellus conceded. They both had her love, this woman they adored. She was willing to accept the pleasures they could give her, the lifestyle they would lead, and the love they had for her. He would marry her, and he and Maxwell would ensure she was always cherished and loved. This woman of their heart.
Christmas Eve
Merriment danced on the air. Christmas, its feel, and scent were everywhere. The violin strings of “Silent Night” filtered through the crowd, its rendition so beautiful and poignant Emily’s throat tightened.
It seemed as if the entire village had turned out for the ball. Chatter and joyous laughter had been pealing through Willow Lake’s manor and grounds for hours. Fresh-cut red and white roses scattered about with hundreds of small decorative lights, which cast an ethereal glow on the snow and lake. The place felt enchanted.
The dinner itself had been splendid. Mrs. Bough, the head cook, and their staff had outdone themselves in the preparation of the meal. It had been months since many of the villagers had eaten meat. The duchess had ensured the dinner was a veritable feast. There were several platters of roasted rib of Hereford beef, roasted Yorkshire turkey, roasted joints of pork, cured smoked salmon, trout, Yorkshire pudding, and plum pudding served with nutmeg custard. Everyone had been delighted, and the meal itself had been informal and filled with gaiety. There had been no reservation as the villagers mixed with the gentry and their families, and the duke and his family. Now almost everyone was ice skating or dancing in the ballroom. Some had retired to the card areas, but everyone was entertained in some manner.
“You look ravishing,” Marcellus murmured at her nape. “Happy.”
Emily laughed and leaned into his chest. She did feel happy, blessed. Between him and Maxwell, she felt like a rare treasure.
“I love seeing everyone so cheerful. I feel as if we are healing.”
He pressed a fleeting kiss along her neck, and she shivered.
&n
bsp; “We are, Emmeline. We are.”
“Are you ready?” Maxwell asked as he came up to her left.
“Oh yes,” she said with a laugh.
Marcellus stepped to her right, and each held one of her hands. A thrill surged through her as they skated onto the frozen lake. The feel of being between them roused the most curious hunger and exhilaration inside of her. Her and Marcellus’s wedding was set for the last day in January. A winter wedding to be held at Willow Lake. She wanted nothing more in this world than to belong to him so completely. She had thought she would feel a bit separated from Maxwell, being married to Marcellus. But their past week of interactions made her realize her fear had been unwarranted. They both owned her heart and soul, and she knew she possessed theirs as well.
It had been a week since their mutual loving in the library, and she had been with both Marcellus and Maxwell several times since, but always separately. She yearned to be with them both again at the same time. She hungered for it. She had questioned how they would exist together as a family until she had taken a tour of Rosemead Park, the estate they would all live at after her wedding. The palatial grounds and the one-hundred-room manor had taken her breath with its ageless beauty. Their chambers had been specially designed, and peace and joy had stolen into her heart when she realized she would not have to sleep away from either Maxwell or Marcellus.
“What causes such a radiant smile on your face?” Maxwell teased as he twirled with her, leading her on the ice with exquisite form and control.
She felt graceful, elegant, and free as she glided with them on the ice, passing several parties. “I am thinking of our wedding night. How beautiful it will be. The pleasures I will have from both of your cocks inside me.”
She laughed when both Maxwell and Marcellus stumbled, losing their graceful forms. How she delighted in teasing them.
Marcellus skated impossibly close to her, brushing his fingers against the underside of her breast. She felt his caress through her winter jacket, and a shiver glided up her spine and beaded her nipples.
“Is that so?” he murmured close to her ear.
“Mmm, hmm,” she answered with a throaty chuckle. “Though from how you and Max have been ogling me the entire day, I can sense I won’t have to wait until our wedding night.”
“Hell,” Maxwell growled.
Emily chuckled. She had known tonight they would all make love together again. She could feel the lust, the intensity vibrating from them and entwining around her. She twisted on the ice, watching her loves, her heart bursting with joy. “I love you, Maxwell, and I love you, Marcellus.”
Maxwell raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her fingers. “And I adore you, Emily.”
