Page 19 of An Earl, His Valet, & Their Wife

Katherine blushed. “Yes. I…he…yes. Mr. Hunter wrote down numbers as she barked them. Oh! I mean…er…as she said them.”

Michael chuckled. “From what I understand, bark is the correct term. But Madame’s work is truly exquisite. You’ll be the envy of all, especially your mother. Now, what will you drink?”

“Anything, really. As long as it’s not medicinal water. I sampled some of that on a visit to Cheltenham, and I’m not sure my stomach ever truly recovered.”

“A health complaint?”

The countess smiled ruefully. “No. My sisters and I all had to consume a glass each day…for, uh…future fertility,” she finished on a whisper.

Gerard almost dropped the wineglass he was holding. Bloody hell. He shouldn’t be listening to their conversation. That wasn’t his role in this room. He was supposed to stand unobtrusively, anticipate his earl’s needs, and be like a brick wall that heard and saw nothing.

But he couldn’t. Michael was the man he loved. And Katherine…

Katherine was the woman he wanted.

“My lady,” he said, firmly suppressing that particular thought. “Would ye come over and make your beverage choice? Then I’ll ken for next time.”

“Of course,” she replied, rising to her feet and walking around the end of the dining table, over to where he waited beside the trays of bottles and decanters. “My goodness, it is indeed a vast selection. But are you going to scowl at my supper gown all evening. Mr. Hunter?”

Pert little minx. One thoroughly inappropriate conversation and the lassie thought she could tease him?

“Nae,” Gerard replied brusquely. “I’ll be respectful. The gown has mere days tae live.”

Katherine giggled; a genuinely merry sound that almost made him smile. “How merciful.”

Gerard shook his head. “I am rarely merciful, my lady.”

She bit her lip, inhaling unsteadily, her eyes as huge and yearning as they’d been in her bedchamber. “I know.”

Fucking hell.

The woman was far, far too tempting. It had barely been two hours since his glorious spend down his beloved’s throat, but he wanted more. Already his cock was awakening from its brief slumber, eager to be buried deep in a tight arse. Katherine would be so tight, requiring careful training, just as Michael had. That lusty, sensual progression of tongue and fingers to various-sized dildos to fully erect cock.

Imagine, spilling in Katherine’s arse while Michael came in her cunt. If she was wife to two men…pleasured by both at the same time…such a powerful connection would certainly result in a bairn.

Gerard stared sightlessly at the bottles and crystal decanters in front of him, the vision of double penetration in his mind so real, so vivid, he actually groaned.

“Mr. Hunter?” said Katherine, looking at him in concern. “Are you well?”

“Quite well, my lady,” he replied, as evenly as possible. “A slight foot cramp, but ’tis gone now. What may I pour ye?”

The countess frowned, like she didn’t believe him. Fortunately for his continued sanity, she pointed to a bottle. “Some wine, please.”

“I’ll bring it over. Return tae your seat.”

Taking several deep breaths to compose himself, Gerard carefully uncorked the bottle and allowed it to rest for a few moments before walking back to the table. First, he leaned over and poured a full goblet for Michael, somehow remembering not to kiss him. Then he circled the table and poured for Katherine.

She smelled so damned good. Citrusy, like freshly cut lemons. Michael preferred a light herbal fragrance; knowing neither would ever assault the air with heavy perfume to disguise inadequate bathing was rather reassuring.

Thankfully, the first course of a light ham broth was soon brought into the dining room. Now he could wholly concentrate on mindless tasks like ladling it into bowls and ensuring there was sufficient crusty rolls and pats of pale-yellow butter. After that came the second course, and he directed the procession of footmen to place the dishes in a perfect line at the center of the table. In future, Mrs. Calder would consult Katherine on the menus, but tonight he and the housekeeper had agreed on juicy slices of beef, potatoes in a light cream sauce, green beans, asparagus, and glazed carrots.

“This all looks delicious,” said Michael. “I’ll have some of everything.”

“Me too,” said Katherine, licking her lips.

Gerard almost groaned again at the provocative act. Serving Michael alone had been difficult enough; he’d often been tempted to shove the food aside and spread him across the table to be feasted on instead. But both of them? Sheer torture.

“Aye,” he said eventually. “But dinnae forget tae leave room for dessert. Cook prepared berry syllabub.”