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Trio of Love

Excerpt

Chapter One

When Lavinia’s letter broke into Maude Cavendish’s bleak winter with an invitation to “join me and my dear John in Bath for the season,” her flutters of anticipation had an embarrassing tickle to them. A sense of possibility she didn’t wish to examine too closely. 

She told herself it was the opportunity to scout for a potential second husband and quickly replied that she would be honored. 

By the time she was traveling, however, nerves were assailing her. She hadn’t seen Lord and Lady John Sutherland in two years and hadn’t known them very well beforehand. 

They had met in London the year Maude married. Lord John, the virile and handsome younger son of a duke, had been a dashing presence at all the balls. He’d asked Maude to dance once and nearly caused her heart to stop, brushing against her gown and looking at her in a way that had softened her knees. 

Lavinia, his wife, had noticed and teased Maude afterward, seeming almost pleased by her reaction.

Maude had felt very callow and baffled that Lavinia had befriended her. She and her husband were beautiful and wealthy and socially in demand. Maude was only the second wife of a baron, unknown in society, and rather shy.

She’d been complimented by their notice and had enjoyed spending time with someone her own age. Her husband had been much older than she was, which was how she wound up abruptly widowed. Her budding friendship with Lavinia had been cut short and, secretly, she had mourned losing that more than she had her husband.  

She did wish she had managed to provide him the heir he had desperately needed. The title went to his great-nephew and Maude had been living in a drafty dowager cottage ever since, trying to survive on a penurious income. She’d been convinced her life was over. 

But here she was, now arriving in Bath! Her stomach churned with anxiety, nervous that she would disappoint the two people who had grown to savior status in her mind. What if they realized she wasn’t nearly as interesting as they recalled?

She entered the town house and Lavinia’s, “At last!” echoed the flood of relief that Maude experienced on finally seeing her friend again. 

Lavinia didn’t look any older. Her skin was still as pristine as a drift of snow, her red-gold hair like a warm, beckoning fire. She was shorter than Maude, but so filled with confidence,  she seemed ten feet taller. Her brilliant smile near broke Maude in half and the strength in her welcoming hug squeezed the breath out of her. She smelled of crushed flower petals and the press of her curves filled Maude with that remembered sense of being special and valued. 

Happy tears struck her eyes and filled her chest with a wonderful ache.

When they stepped apart, Lord John gave a gallant bow over her hand. 

“Since the moment Lavinia suggested you join us, we’ve been counting the days,” he said in the deep voice that made Maude’s skin feel tight.

We? Maude wouldn’t dare question her host, especially when his green eyes met hers to underscore his sincerity. 

His charm was legendary, but her heart swooped in a flattered delight anyway. How was she even here? They were two bright stars and she an unremarkable moon shadow. As happy as she was to have been invited, she had to wonder if they had a reason for opening themselves so generously. For now, she took Lavinia’s advice to settle in, hoping all would become clear soon. 

* * *

An hour later, Maude had freshened up and came down to the parlor. She heard the couple speaking as she approached.

“You can’t show me my gift then tell me to wait until Christmas to open it,” Lord John grumbled.

“Blossoms aren’t meant to be opened, darling. You have to let them flower on their own. Then you can push your nose into it,” she added with a gusty laugh at her own joke. 

Lord John seemed to think her remark worth a good chuckle, too. 

Maude didn’t get it, but entered the parlor with a smile on her face—only to discover the couple were in an intimate embrace. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Maude turned away, flooding with embarrassed heat, but the vision of Lord John clutching Lavinia’s bottom through her gown was imprinted behind her closed eyes. More disconcertingly, she didn’t know who she envied more, Lavinia for receiving his touch, or John for being able to give it. Her heart lurched in confusion at that realization. 

“Oh, Maude, please stay,” Lavinia said. “Lord John is leaving us for the evening.” She sounded more rueful than embarrassed. 

Maude turned to see the pair exchanging a look she couldn’t interpret. Scold and satisfaction, perhaps? After a brief moment, Lord John kissed his wife once more. Maude was quite certain she caught a glimpse of Lavinia’s tongue stealing between his lips. 

A curl of intrigue settled into her belly, and Maude became very aware of her most private flesh. Inner muscles clenched of their own accord, sending little shockwaves of tingling sweetness into her thighs and upward. Her nipples stung. 

She dropped her gaze to the floor as Lord John approached, terrified she would betray herself. She’d suffered this same thing when she’d met them in London but had told herself that had been from the excitement of a proper season. It wasn’t, though. It was them. 

“It’s our habit to be very open with our affections,” Lord John said as he came even with her. “I hope we haven’t offended you?” 

He barely touched the backs of his knuckles to her elbow, but she felt it as though he’d wrapped his hand around her entire being and squeezed, leaving her breathless.

“No, of course not.” Maude found a shaky smile to send upward. “It makes me want the same thing for myself.” 

The silence that crashed down nearly had Maude choking on her own tongue. 

“I mean that you have a very happy marriage,” she stammered. “I hope now that I’m out in society again, I might find a prospect for a similar, happy union.” 

“Ah.” 

“That’s what we want for you, too.” Lavinia hurried forward, gracefully smoothing over her faux pas. “A happy union.” She sounded as though she was strangling on a laugh.

Maude wanted to die. 

“Your artlessness is very charming, Maude.” Lord John made no effort to hide his amusement. “I’m glad you’re here to entertain us.”

“Really? Because I feel like a twit,” she mumbled, tying her fingers together.

He chuckled, but Lavinia protectively scooped her arm around Maude’s back.

“You mustn’t feel anything but comfortable around us. Express yourself however feels right.” She flashed her husband a glance before guiding Maude toward the sitting area.

Lavinia’s hold gave Maude a jolt behind her navel that had nothing to do with feelings of inadequacy. The way Lord John watched them gave her another. It made her feel like the flower Lavinia had alluded to—as though something was blooming within her that was sweet and receptive and enticing. 

She again lowered her lashes, unnerved by her unseemly reactions. 

“I would stay to enjoy more of this stimulating conversation,” Lord John drawled, “but I’m expected elsewhere. I won’t be late.” That, too, seemed to have some significance for Lavinia, but he bowed and left. 

Maude’s thoughts were a jumble of innuendos that were so far-fetched, she had to dismiss them before they became something they weren’t. She didn’t want to go down a wrong track and expose herself in some uncomfortable way. She could pick apart the exchange later. For now, she let Lavinia put her at ease. 

They talked for hours, as if they’d never been apart. 

At one point, Lavinia gave a throaty chuckle and tossed back her head so her red-gold curls danced, and she stole Maude’s breath. Maude had forgotten how entrancing her friend was, with her porcelain skin and even, pearly teeth, her forget-me-knot eyes and her cupid’s bow of a mouth. 

“What’s wrong?” Lavinia asked when she realized Maude had gone quiet.

They held a gaze that was… It was the feeling Maude had experienced in London. As though magic surrounded them. 

“Nothing.” Maude felt mousy and silly. She was still at a loss as to how Lavinia had ever noticed her, let alone wished to continue their friendship. “I’m just very grateful to be here.” 

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” She sounded very sincere and inched her bottom along the cushions so they were sitting closer. “It’s always bothered me that we didn’t have enough time in London to get to know one another properly. I felt we had a very special connection.” 

Her hand came to Maude’s knee, sending the most exquisite swirl of delight through Maude’s thighs and pelvis. 

It was almost as if Lavinia’s words were literal and she purposely demonstrated their invisible connection. Lavinia was looking into her eyes and for the briefest moment, Maude thought Lavinia must know how she made Maude feel. Trepidation quivered through her, but also—

There was a noise at the door. Lord John had returned. He came up short as he entered the drawing room. His gaze flickered to how close they were sitting and his expression shifted to one of consideration or—

Maude wasn’t sure. She couldn’t look at him and instinctively inched away from her friend, but Lavinia didn’t remove her hand.

Flustered, Maude made a point of noticing the hour. “Look how long I’ve kept you talking.” Her voice was sore and she was still feeling bewildered by her moment of connection with Lavinia. By all of this. She rose and announced, “I’ll wish you both good night and retire.” 

The married couple exchanged another of those looks that made Maude feel both an outsider and part of the conversation. Then her friend warmly embraced her and said good night. 

Maude was aware of Lord John watching her as she passed him at the door. He said again how pleased he was to have her join them, forcing her to say another flustered, “Thank you. Me, too,” before she hurried up the stairs. 

* * *

A quarter hour later, as Maude waited for sleep, mind still awhirl, she heard the pair in the room below her. 

“Did you broach the idea?” Lord John asked in a rumble.

“Not yet,” Lavinia murmured. 

“Do you still want—?” What was that last low word he’d said? This? It? Her? 

Lavinia said, “More than ever.” 

“Good. So do I.” 

There was a longer silence when Maude only heard her heart hammering in her ears. Was she imaging things, or did they have an interest in her that went beyond friendship? 

As she called herself a fool, she heard a rough male sigh. The frame of their wooden bed began to creak. 

Her eyes snapped open before she clenched them closed again and quickly pushed her hands against her ears. Curiosity immediately got the better of her, though. Was that really lovemaking she was hearing? 

She took her hands away and heard Lord John say a distinct, “Fuck, you feel good. Your cunt is so hot.” Lavinia moaned unabashedly. 

Maude should have covered her ears again, but her friend’s enjoyment piqued her curiosity further. Maude hadn’t been touched intimately since the first weeks of her marriage three years ago. Her husband had been considerate enough. He had always taken a moment to pour a small measure of oil into his palm and rub it into her passage and on himself so his entry was smooth and only a little uncomfortable. After a few minutes of thrusting, he would make a strangled noise of completion and leave her. 

Sometimes Maude would then soothe her used flesh and, if she did it long enough, found the sensations to be very pleasant. She hadn’t imagined a woman could feel that way with a man, though. 

She heard Lavinia moan, “Harder. Oh fuck. Don’t stop.” 

The bed thumped the wall in swift, repetitive bangs that matched Maude’s increasing pulse. Lavinia’s voice broke into sounds that were pure, tortured joy. 

Maude squirmed in her bed with sweaty, guilty excitement. She was tempted to let her hand stray to between her thighs, but that would be indecent to touch herself while imagining she was in her friend’s place.

The noises eased and Lavinia sighed with gratification. 

Lord John sounded tense as he said, “Turn around.” 

What did that mean?

Maude wished she could see them, wished she could feel what her friend was experiencing.

The bed noises started up again. This was going on a lot longer than her own husband had ever taken to finish. Lavinia began to moan again in mounting pleasure. 

How did she look as he made love to her? She sounded as if she were in heaven. 

As an image of Lavinia’s parted lips and naked chest appeared in her mind’s eye, Maude quit fighting her urges. She pulled up her nightgown and secretively touched herself, discovering her lips were as slick as if her husband had spent himself inside her. She searched out the little nub where all her sensations originated and circled it, enjoying the ripples of pleasure as she tried to imagine Lord John thrusting into her.

Somehow, she conjured Lavinia. Maude knew it was terribly wicked to picture her, but she rolled onto her stomach so she could thrust against her hand, as though she could somehow thrust her sex against Lavinia’s and kiss her mouth and feel her breasts against her own—

As the groans beneath her reached a mutual culmination, she muffled her own cry of release into the mattress. Contractions of pleasure overwhelmed her and dampness pooled into her palm.