Three Lovers For Lucy Read online

  “Look at our Percy Shelley,” Jeremy jerked his head at Talbot. “You’d think he imagines he could heat the lady up.”

  Paul opened an eye and winked at him. “Want to bet I couldn’t?”

  Kendall put the open invitation on the table. A plan was taking root in his head. A smile tugged at his mouth. “I have an idea.”

  Jeremy eyed his friend suspiciously. “I don’t like it when you get ideas, which is too often. More often than not, they land us in trouble.”

  “Too true.” Paul glared at Kendall. “I, for one, am not getting stuck running home bare-arse naked because some husband you decided to tip off walked in on me with his wife. Not again.”

  “Relax, chap. He was harmless, and I think we all agreed it furnished an evening’s amusement.” Kendall chuckled when Jeremy grunted in agreement.

  “ ‘All of us’ would imply I agreed as well, but I didn’t find running through the streets of Warwick—sans a stitch of clothing—at two in the morning amusing in the least.” Paul shot Jeremy a nasty look when he chuckled as well.

  “So you aren’t interested, even if my idea entails getting Lady Lucy into a prone position?” Kendall knew he’d gotten his friends’ attention when they straightened and leaned slightly toward him. If there was one thing the three had in common, it was the inability to pass up a challenge.

  “Fine. I’ll bite. What terms?” Jeremy raised a brow at Paul as if in challenge, while Paul glared back. After a few moments Paul sighed and shrugged in surrender.

  “Simple. The first one to toss off the lady wins.” Kendall tapped his fingers on the table.

  “Wins what, exactly?” Paul poured two fingers of scotch in a clean glass and threw it back in one gulp.

  “Yes, what does the winner get?” Jeremy chimed in.

  “How about life-long bragging rights? The title of King Stud of The Trio of Trouble.” Kendall knew Paul and Jeremy wouldn’t be able to resist.

  A wager of money would have bored them. His and Paul’s lands were adjacent, and they grew their own variety of grapes for a unique line of wine, along with barley and yeast for beer. Jeremy raced champion thoroughbreds and stood studs sought after by many. Being The Trio’s exalted head cock was a prize wealth couldn’t buy.

  Warwickshire had dubbed them The Trio of Trouble longer ago than any of the three could remember. From childhood, wherever they went, mayhem was likely to follow. They weren’t always the cause of the chaos—only contributors, maybe. Nonetheless, trouble followed them like a Jack Russell nipping at their heels every chance it got.

  All three men smiled and spoke at the same time. “Deal.”

  “Because there will be no acceptable way to prove the deed has been done, I expect us all to be true to our word.” Kendall raised his right hand. “I swear I will not proclaim myself winner until my cock has been buried to the hilt in Lady Lucy.”

  Jeremy and Paul raised their hands as well, repeated Kendall’s oath and shook on it afterwards.

  “Now if you don’t mind,” Paul said, “I need my beauty rest.”

  “Nothing can beautify that ugly mug of yours.” Jeremy picked up his jacket.

  “Until later.” Kendall watched them leave the den. He leaned back and grinned. While he doubted any of them would actually succeed in getting the deed done, trying promised amusement.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy felt like a wanton, wicked woman, but she didn’t care. A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as she inspected herself in the mirror. Her dress, draped low over the shoulders, was a creamy ivory that set off the perfection of her skin. The front was embellished with roses worked in silk, but any sensuality that might be read in them was contradicted by the row of tiny, intricate buttons up the back of her bodice. They had taken Roberta half an hour to fasten with a button hook. Skirts in the same rich cream silk spread in layers from the magenta sash at her waist. Her long black hair was coiled tightly on top of her head, also thanks to Roberta, but ringlets fell in perfect disarray in various places around her face, softening her features. The effect was exactly what she wanted, feminine, suggesting the grace and comfort an old man might hope for, but promising little more. Pleased, she gathered the gown gently on both sides and pulled the hem away from the floor so she could descend the stairway and welcome her guests without falling on her face.

  ****

  Kendall, Paul and Jeremy stood in a corner of the room. The party had an impressive turnout, and so far they’d been lucky. No one had turned them out. Guests huddled in groups, the men joking and flirting while the women blushed prettily and sipped daintily at their drinks, smiling at all the right moments. When Lady Lucy made her appearance, The Trio of Trouble temporarily froze in place, mesmerized by her beauty.

  “Holy hell.” The words Jeremy breathed were barely audible.

  “My God. I knew the woman was gorgeous, but I didn’t realize she was breathtaking.” Paul placed an exaggerated hand over his heart.

  “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. That,” Kendall pointed to Lady Lucy, “is my personal angel.”

  She glanced their way briefly, and all three stood straighter. Surprise came over her face, then turned to alarm.

  “We’ve been spotted.” Kendall glanced at his friends.

  “She won’t throw us out,” Paul said. “We’re respectable members of society. The fuss would ruin the evening, and she’s obviously prepared this party very carefully.”

  “I wonder what for,” returned Jeremy.

  “For us.” Kendall grinned mischievously. “Though the lady may not realize it yet. See? She’s not fetching the footmen to toss us out the door. She’s decided to make the best of it. Time to meet my future mistress.”

  “Wait a minute.” Jeremy grabbed Kendall by the arm. “I’m going too. I don’t know about Paul, but I’m not giving up any advantage willingly.”

  Paul nodded agreement. “Me neither. Let’s go.”

  It took ages to pick their way through the throngs of people. Every woman tried to catch their eye, while most of the men probably dreamed of punching them in it. They wouldn’t quite dare. The Trio had done a lot of good for the town. They’d donated to the school and church, and on many occasions helped out the less fortunate. However, that didn’t make for interesting gossip. People preferred scandal.

  When they finally made it to Lady Lucy’s side, all three reached for her hand at the same time.

  The lady let out a breathy chuckle and gave a small curtsy. You had to hand it to her, Kendall admitted to himself. No one would guess they were unexpected and unwanted. She was the perfect hostess, cool as a cucumber. “Lord Weston, what a surprise. How are you this evening?”

  “Very well, Lady Lucy.” Kendall savored his small triumph, not merely bending over her hand but kissing the soft skin of its back in the Continental manner. Score one for me.

  “Lord Talbot?” She offered him her hand.

  “Delighted, my lady.” Paul bestowed a similar greeting on the lady, outdoing Kendall in grace, and glancing at him triumphantly.

  “Lord Courtenay?”

  Jeremy’s brow furrowed at being last to sneak a nibble at Lady Lucy’s hand.

  Quietly she added, “I’m a little surprised The Trio of Trouble took the time from their busy schedule to attend my little affair. I should think you’d consider it on the bland side.”

  Paul ignored her reprimand. “Who would not make time to admire an exquisite beauty?” He wiggled his brows at her.

  Lucy merely smiled in arch amusement. “So, sirs, the rumors are true.”

  “Which rumors, my lady?” When Kendall met her lavender eyes, his heart thumped in his chest. He’d never seen eyes that color. In polished amethysts, yes, but in eyes, not even close.

  “That you three are the most notorious rakes in Warwickshire.” Amused, she glanced at each man in turn, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth.

  “You give us too much credit, lady. However, I can’t say I would be opposed to h
earing your opinion after you know us better.” Courtenay stared at her openly, unashamedly.

  “Don’t you think that is a little forward, sir?” Lucy leaned close to Courtenay, and his green eyes sparkled in challenge.

  She liked bold men, and all three of them certainly fit that bill. When she had first caught sight of them, she’d felt only annoyance. That they were so attractive only made it worse. Her purpose tonight was to consider elderly prospective husbands, not flirt with distracting young men. She was all too familiar with the breed. Arrogant and aggressive, most amounted to little more than ornamental versions of her cousin Bernard. But these three were more ornamental than most.

  Lord Weston was tall and lanky, with lovely dark brown hair and darker eyes. Lord Talbot, on the other hand, was blond, of medium build, and blue-eyed. By contrast, Lord Courtenay had piercing green eyes, jet black hair, and was more heavily muscled than the other two. All three were golden skinned.

  Courtenay leaned closer. “Not nearly as forward as I would like to be,” he whispered back.

  She fought the sudden, rising heat in her body. It hadn’t taken long for them to push the reason for this evening’s party into the background. “What about you, Sir Weston? Do you think the three of you are given too much credit?”

  “My lady, if you are asking me directly about my abilities, I would be more than happy to discuss them with you in private. And in detail, if you choose.”

  She blinked. Weston was just as impertinent as Courtenay, and the heat that rose in her was not confined to her cheeks. Had the two men decided to compete for her attention, or were all three up to some sort of mischief?

  Her naughty side taunted her to find out. She turned a seemingly innocent gaze onto Talbot. “And you, sir? Do you think people give you three too much credit for notoriety?”

  “Lady, I do not believe we are notorious. At least, I am not. My life is based on logic—the logic that what is pleasurable is good.”

  The smile not leaving her face, Lucy gazed from one mischievous face to another. Perhaps they thought her fair game because she was no girl, but still unmarried. However, their opinions were less important than the realization that began to surface about the opportunities that might arise from being married to a very old man. So long as a woman’s husband accepted her, it was difficult for society to reject her too harshly, whatever she did. All the same, first things first, and getting a husband was the job at hand.

  “Sirs, it was charming chatting with you, but I must attend my other guests. Won’t you please enjoy yourselves? I hope we’ll have the opportunity to talk again.”

  She made as quick an escape as her gown gracefully permitted before any of The Trio could utter a response. Just then she spied Beatrice Lane, her long-time nemesis, across the room. Ice replaced the heat The Trio had lit. No doubt, Beatrice had watched the exchange and was probably concocting some juicy tidbits about Lucy and the men to spread among the guests before the night was through. This evening was proving far more interesting than Lucy had anticipated. She took a deep breath and made her way toward Beatrice, a welcoming smile on her face.

  ****

  “There’s more to that woman than we thought.” Kendall watched Lady Lucy walk away. The sweet sway of her hips tempted him like no woman had done in a long time.

  “She practically invited us to her bed.” Paul cracked his knuckles and jammed his hands into his pockets.

  “Don’t get carried away,” Jeremy said with a grunt. “None of us know the lady all that well. She may be only a flirt.”

  “You’re both right. She was flirting, and most provocatively, and with all of us. Chaps, I think we have a chance at a most interesting game. I, for one, am more intrigued than ever. I think it’s time to go our separate ways for the night.” Kendall lifted a snifter of brandy from a poor girl who struggled to navigate smoothly among the gathering with a heavily laden silver tray.

  “Yes, but don’t forget. We agreed on an honest wager. The only way to win the bet is to fuck the lady.” Jeremy turned to walk away.

  “We understand.” Paul huffed and went in the opposite direction.

  Kendall strolled in yet another direction. He saw a girl staring wide-eyed at them, but after a polite nod, disregarded her.

  ****

  “So this is the lucky man who’s to marry you.” Lucy extended her hand to Beatrice’s fiancé, Viscount Carrington.

  He was nice enough looking, but not what Lucy would call spectacular. Nothing like The Trio. His brown hair was plain. His green eyes held no shine, and his build was decent, but ordinary. He did have his wealth going for him, and as long as he was a kind man, she couldn’t deny that he was a good catch.

  Beatrice eyed Lucy as if at any moment she were going to snatch the Viscount right out from under her nose. Lucy almost giggled at the thought. Viscount Carrington was not a man to catch her attention. While Beatrice was not a shining beauty, the woman was far from ugly. Her blonde hair, blue eyes and petite frame attracted many a man’s attention. Lucy was sure Beatrice could have aimed a little higher.

  She glanced at the way the emerald green gown hugged Beatrice’s waist and pushed her breasts impossibly high, nearly popping them out of the snug neckline, and was sure Beatrice could have just about any man she wanted. A small voice inside her whispered not The Trio. She furrowed her brow at the absurdness of that thought.

  “Yes, Lucy. This is my fiancé.” Beatrice smiled up at the man and patted his arm. Beatrice’s smile seemed a little too forced.

  Lucy had known her rival for too long and had played too many games with her to not be able to tell when she was bluffing. “The pleasure is mine, my lord.” She almost giggled again when he bowed, bending stiffly over her hand. She wondered if he performed in bed with the same detached aloofness.

  “Pleased to meet you, Lady Lucy. Very nice party you’ve thrown. Very nice indeed.”

  So, Beatrice hadn’t picked him for his sparkling conversation.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard by now that the wedding will be next June. It’s going to be a grand affair.” Beatrice’s smile was grim. Her eyes sparkled in challenge.

  “I have no doubt that anything in which you are involved can be nothing less than grand.” Lucy returned the gaze directly, not giving an inch.

  Clearly, Beatrice wasn’t sure if she should take the reply as a compliment or not, but her intended blankly smiled away. Utterly dismal, Lucy decided. Since she doubted Beatrice would marry solely to one-up her, she wondered exactly how much money this man was worth.

  “Excuse me, my lady.” Roberta tugged at Lucy’s sleeve.

  “I’m sorry. Would you please pardon me?” She didn’t wait for Beatrice or Lord Carrington to reply but allowed Roberta to pull her away from her guests and out to the hallway. “What is it, Roberta? Are you well?” The girl’s cheeks were rosy red.

  “I’m fine, lady, but I just overheard them talking.” Roberta’s whispered voice was hard to hear.

  “Them, who?”

  “The Trio.”

  “What did they say that has upset you so?”

  “They said some horrid things. I don’t think they knew I could hear what they were saying.”

  “What sort of horrid things?”

  Roberta leaned close and whispered. “They’ve made a wager to—”

  “To?”

  “I can’t repeat the word they used, but it involved you in bed with one of them. “Should I have them thrown out?”

  “No. How would it look if I had three lords thrown out of my home?” Lucy barely kept a laugh from escaping. “I can look after myself against the likes of those three. Now, go have some fun. I should hate for that lovely gown to go to waste.” Lucy thought Roberta looked rather elegant with her red hair swept up and her creamy complexion accented by the royal blue of her gown.

  “But—”

  “Enjoy yourself!”

  Lucy watched her walk away, casting an anxious glance at The Trio of Trouble. But
if their intrusion worried Roberta, it didn’t intimidate her. It was time the arrogant Weston, Courtenay and Talbot had the tables turned on them, and she was just the woman to do it.

  But for the moment, it was time to inspect her four marriage prospects.

  Chapter Four

  Lucy glimpsed Weston across the room and could feel Talbot and Courtenay’s eyes on her. Now that she knew what they were up to, excitement sizzled through her veins. Not that she wasn’t a little ashamed of herself for feeling so. Any respectable lady should be appalled by the secret Roberta had exposed. For the first time in her life, Lucy wondered if she was perhaps not respectable. Of the many things she felt, appalled was not one of them.

  “Lady Lucy, I was so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. I knew him well when he was young, a good man that I considered a friend.” Bennett, Lord Reilly, bowed slightly, his bones giving a loud crack.

  “Thank you. I miss him very much.” Apprehension slithered down her spine. Once, the Marquess had probably been handsome, but age had robbed him of his ability to stand straight, and his formerly brown hair was mostly white. Blue eyes that likely shone in youth had dulled to grayish.

  Could she really marry such an old man? She glanced over at Byron, Marquess Fredericks, Percy, Earl of Laughton, and Robert, Marquess Lincoln. All three appeared to be around the same age, all had gray or thinning hair, dreary eyes and shoulders stooped with burdens of years. Yet they were what she’d thought she wanted. All had reputations as decent men, all had been widowed at least twice, Lord Laughton taking the lead with four late wives. Most importantly, none of them needed her property or money. She doubted any of the four would mind having a pretty young lady for a showpiece. The only question was whether she could go through with it.

  She sighed inwardly. How had things come to this?

  “My dear cousin. How are you tonight?”

  Turning, she faced the reason things had come to this. “Cousin Bernard. What a surprise to see you tonight.”

  Bernard’s beady eyes rested intently on her. He reminded her of a rat scrounging for food that didn’t belong to him. “I would have sent an RSVP, had I known of your gathering sooner,” he had the gall to say. “Somehow, your invitation missed reaching me. Misplaced by my incompetent staff, I suppose.”