Kane, Samantha - Brothers In Arms 3 (2 page)

Valentine took several slow steps back, mentally and physically. He needed that distance to get his thoughts back in order. He came to rest in his earlier position, next to 10

Love’s Strategy

the hearth. The empty hearth now represented times the lovely widow had done without, had gone cold or hungry because she couldn’t afford the basic necessities for herself and her children. Never again, he vowed. She and hers would never want for anything ever again. He looked away from the dark, cold fireplace and directly into the widow’s eyes.

Kurt’s heart was racing. This was not what he had planned at all, not at all. He’d planned on Valentine making a pleasant connection with a woman whom he married for the purpose of having children, and who married him for financial security. A woman they would share when the mood struck but who remained a firm outsider in relation to his and Valentine’s close attachment. Instead, Valentine was stricken with love at the first sight of the lovely widow. Kurt himself felt something stirring in his chest, in the place he thought was so full of Valentine no other could find room there.

She was beautiful, obviously courageous, and she possessed a certain dignity and self-assurance. She was a woman with few equals. The kind of woman a man like Valentine searched his whole life for and, once found, lived his whole life for. Kurt had trouble breathing as he tried to imagine what would happen to him if Valentine were to turn him away, if the lovely Mrs. Marleston refused Valentine’s initial offer, refused Kurt.

He and Valentine had been together since one fateful night during the war, when Kurt was so desperately lonely and could no longer resist the temptation of the lovely young British officer whom he’d befriended. And Valentine, equally lonely, equally desperate, had let himself be seduced by the sophisticated half-German officer. They had found in one another the tenderness and passion that the war leached out of them, filling the empty spaces that the violence and bloodshed left behind. After the war it was only natural that they stayed together. Kurt couldn’t even imagine life without Valentine.

Now he had argued and coerced Valentine into doing the one thing that might tear them apart. He’d forced him to fall in love with a woman and marry. He’d thought to 11

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give Valentine the one thing missing in their lives, children and the respectability of a wife. Valentine longed for the quiet life of a country squire and Kurt was more than happy to share that life and that dream. Valentine insisted he didn’t need a wife and family to make him happy, that he was happy with Kurt. But Kurt knew Valentine better than he knew himself and he had set out to give him what he needed, just as he had endeavored to give Valentine everything he needed or wanted since their first night together. Old habits die hard, Kurt thought wryly as he watched Valentine watch the widow.

Kurt turned his attention to Mrs. Marleston and he felt his cock stir. If only she would say yes the three of them together would be glorious. Not just for one night, but every night for the rest of their lives. Kurt’s eyes widened in shock. Perhaps this wasn’t just Valentine’s dream, but his as well. A dream that had taken root, he thought, when they’d heard their old friends Jason Randall and Tony Richards had taken a wife.

According to Stephen, the ceremony had included all three, with Stephen presiding, and now the three were expecting a child. If they could have it all, why not Kurt and Valentine? Kurt took a deep breath, firming his resolve. Yes, indeed, why not?

When Leah’s eyes met Mr. Westridge’s she was shocked by the intensity of his gaze.

Stephen Matthews’ letter had simply said that he’d known both Mr. Westridge and Mr.

Schillig during the war on the Peninsula, and they were both trustworthy gentlemen.

He urged her to listen to them with an open mind and an open heart. That was all. He gave no indication of what they wanted from her. She had befriended the young and handsome vicar upon her arrival in Ashton on the Green, and she trusted his judgment.

If he said she should listen to his friends, then she would. But what could they possibly want?

“All right, I’ve read Mr. Matthews’ letter, and I’m more than willing to listen to whatever you have to say. But I’m rather confused. Pardon my directness, but what could two gentlemen such as you require from me?” She glanced at the two men and 12

Love’s Strategy

intercepted yet another cryptic look between them. Her suspicions grew when they both hesitated to speak.

Suddenly Mr. Westridge stepped forward again, as if to speak. Leah gave him an encouraging smile, but the words seemed to die in his throat. Slightly exasperated, she turned to Mr. Schillig.

He cleared his throat with a gentle cough before speaking. “We are, um, aware of your circumstances, Mrs. Marleston, and we are here to offer you an advantageous proposition.”

Leah felt the blood drain from her face as her back went stiff. “I am not so desperate as to accept that kind of offer, Mr. Schillig. Good day.” She turned to the door, furious with Mr. Matthews and these so-called gentlemen.

“Oh that was marvelous, Kurt. This is surely a more disastrous misunderstanding than the one I caused.” Mr. Westridge’s voice was agitated, but underlying it was amusement, and Leah whirled around to give him the dressing-down he deserved.

Before she could speak Mr. Westridge held up his hands as if to ward her off. “No, no, truly you misunderstood. I, we, are not offering you…you
carte blanche
, Mrs. Marleston.

Far from it. You can’t think Stephen would condone that, do you?”

Leah was stopped short by his behavior and his words. No, she would not like to think the kind vicar would condone that, but she’d been dealt some harsh blows of reality in the last few years.

“Well, it is
carte blanche
of a sort, Valentine,” Mr. Schillig said, “of your very generous fortune, and mine as well.”

Leah found her gaze divided between them again as she tried to decipher that statement. She was having a hard time deciding whether to be angry or merely confused.

“Would you give me the courtesy, Kurt, of letting me negotiate my own marriage contract?” Mr. Westridge said tightly.

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Leah’s reply was arrested by that one word—marriage. She took two small steps back into the room. “You had best explain yourselves better than this. I will grant you but a few more minutes to make your business plain, or I will be forced to ask you to leave.”

Mr. Westridge took a step closer, and Leah could see the determination on his face.

“We are here to offer you marriage, Mrs. Marleston.”

Leah was dumfounded. “Both of you? You are here to court me?”

“No, we are here to ask you to marry us,” Mr. Westridge said earnestly.

Leah could not control the incredulity of her expression. “Did Mr. Matthews put you up to this? Is one of you to be the sacrificial lamb? I told him I would not marry him just to solve my financial difficulties. The same applies to any of his friends.”

“Not one of us, Mrs. Marleston,” Mr. Schillig said smoothly, “both of us.”

“No, not both of us,” Mr. Westridge seemed to be stammering. “I mean yes, both of us, but you will be my wife. And not lambs. Not sacrificial lambs. You see, we want to marry you. We need to marry you.”

Leah’s mind was reeling. “You both need to marry me? That’s impossible. What on earth do you mean?”

Mr. Westridge sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving unruly curls behind. “This is not going according to my plan at all.”

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Just then Mrs. Marleston’s mother and children came through the door.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Mrs. Northcott cried. “I didn’t realize you were still with your guests, Leah.”

Leah. Her name was Leah, Valentine thought. It was lovely and suited the woman perfectly. He looked down at the children and suddenly realized if all went as he hoped they would be his children. The boy looked to be about nine or ten, a sturdy lad with a shock of red hair and blue eyes as suspicious as his mother’s. The little girl couldn’t be above five, with golden curls and blue eyes that nearly filled her face. He fell in love on the spot.

“Hello,” Valentine said, bending his knees so he could look them in the eye. “I’m Mr. Westridge.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” the boy said stiffly. The little girl moved behind her brother and stuck her thumb in her mouth as she peeked out around his legs.

Valentine suppressed a smile. “And what are your names?”

The boy looked up at Leah, and she nodded. “I am Sebastian, and my sister is Esme.” Then he looked pointedly at Kurt.

Kurt laughed, and Valentine watched everyone relax. Kurt’s laugh often had that effect. It was low and deep and jolly. “I am Mr. Schillig. Do you speak German?”

The boy shook his head, and the little girl quickly pulled her head back behind his legs like a little turtle.

“Well, you shall soon.” Kurt looked at Leah as he said it, and she frowned back at him.

“Are you a new tutor then?” Sebastian asked eagerly.

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Leah stepped forward at that point and put her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “No, dear, Mr. Schillig is a just a nice friend of Mr. Matthews. You know we can’t afford a tutor right now.” The crestfallen look on the boy’s face endeared him even more to Valentine. How he would enjoy a son who loved learning.

“Mother, why don’t you and the children have tea and then you can supervise Bastian’s studies while this little one,” she tapped a finger on Esme’s not so hidden nose, “takes a nap.” She turned to look at her mother. “I shall be in the garden with Mr.

Westridge and Mr. Schillig.”

“Is everything all right, dear?” Mrs. Northcott asked.

“Yes, Mother, everything is fine. These two gentlemen are friends of Mr. Matthews.

He sent a letter of introduction with them.”

“Oh, well, that’s nice.”

Mrs. Northcott was clearly confused, but Leah did not enlighten her. Instead she turned to Valentine and Kurt. “Shall we, gentlemen?” She indicated the door, and Kurt gestured that she should precede them. Mrs. Northcott and the children moved out of their way. Valentine saw Kurt give little Esme a broad smile as he left, and the tiny tot popped her thumb out of her mouth to return it.

* * * * *

Once in the garden, Valentine made several attempts to begin the conversation.

Kurt tried to let him lead in this, but despite his usual disarming charm Valentine seemed to stumble over the words.

“You see, Mrs. Marleston,” Valentine began, “sometimes in war, well, men you see,” he paused and coughed, “that is to say, companions can often become, um…close, you see.”

Leah looked at him in confusion. “Well, of course men are drawn closer by their shared experiences, Mr. Westridge.”

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“Yes, yes, exactly,” Valentine said happily. “And Kurt and I are, er, were, brought closer by the war.”

“So you were there with Mr. Matthews?” Leah asked helpfully.

“Yes, quite right, we were.” Valentine was less sure of himself here. It was obvious Leah had no idea what he was talking about.

Valentine heaved a giant sigh. “Mrs. Marleston,” he began again, stopping in the path beside a small rustic bench, “Kurt and I both wish to marry you because of our relationship.”

Leah and Kurt had stopped as well, and Leah looked back and forth between the men. “Because you are friends, you both wish to marry me?”

“Exactly,” Valentine said, nodding his head decisively.

As Leah and Valentine stared at one another uncomprehendingly, Kurt rolled his eyes and shook his head. He stepped forward until he was next to the two of them, the three forming a loose triangle on the path.

“May I?” he asked Valentine politely.

“Oh, oh yes, please do,” Valentine said, and he began to step back. Kurt stopped him with a hand on his arm.

Kurt turned to Leah, who smiled at him encouragingly. She was really quite breathtakingly lovely, Kurt thought, smiling back. And she was so sweet to poor tongue-tied Valentine.

“We,” Kurt began, waving a hand between himself and Valentine, “are lovers and have been since the war. We wish to take a wife—a woman who will be wife to both of us, in and out of the bedroom. We wish to have a family. We want to have all this with you and still remain lovers.”

* * * * *

The sound that escaped Leah’s throat at the blunt declaration could best be described as a squeak. She stumbled back a step, suddenly lightheaded.

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“Mrs. Marleston!” cried Mr. Westridge as he rushed forward to grab her arm. “Let me help you,” he implored, guiding her gently to the bench directly behind her. When her knees hit the bench she sat with an undignified thump.

Mr. Schillig came up next to him with a look of concern. “I can see that I’ve alarmed you, and that was not my intention. I apologize.”

“No, no,” she said, and her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I’m…startled. This is hardly something I’m familiar with. I’ve heard stories, of course, but I’ve never met anyone who…that is…does Mr. Matthews know?”

Her face felt pale and she found it hard to look at Mr. Schillig. Mr. Westridge sat down next to her on the bench, and she thought it showed remarkable restraint that she didn’t immediately throw herself off in an attempt to get away from him. These were such intimate subjects; she’d never had such a conversation before.

“Yes, Stephen knows,” Mr. Westridge answered her. “He was the one who suggested we seek you out when we told him what we were planning. He said you were a sensible woman who would see the advantages in the situation.”

“What advantages?” Leah asked, still reeling in shock. Mr. Matthews knew, and he apparently approved!

“You are in desperate financial straits, Leah,” Mr. Westridge said gently. She knew she should chastise him for using her Christian name, but it sounded so wonderful when he said it. “I can help, we can help. We are both wealthy men. We can pay your debts, take care of you and the children properly. We can give you a fine home, and clothes, plentiful food, fires in the winter and a name to go with them—my name.”