DangerbyDalliance (20 page)

“Give him some time. I don’t know what happened between the
three of you, but Warren loves you too much to not give you a chance to
grovel.”

“Why should I grovel? He has been as involved in our quest
as I—” Archer froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Johnson laughed and gripped Archer’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,
I don’t believe that the government should have the right to regulate who loves
whom. If you are happy and harm no one, what do I care.” He patted Archer’s
shoulder and walked out to give the arriving constables instructions.

Archer just stood there for a moment. He should have known
Johnson would see through Warren’s and his deception. He was very glad that his
friend didn’t shun him because of it.

He slowly walked out of the office and onto the street.
Numbness spread through him. Tonight had not gone the way he had expected. He
rubbed his tired eyes, his arms heavy.

He had hurt the two most important people in his life. In
his effort to protect himself he had allowed his demons to terrorize Sarah and
Warren.

Sarah had not looked back when she walked out.

Warren had left too angry to even shout. That happened
rarely and usually meant Archer had really messed up.

He walked the dark streets alone, the dim gaslight matching
his morose mood. The longer he walked, the stronger his determination grew to
heal the breach. He would find a way to make it up to them, to apologize and
bring them back together again.

Right now he had no idea how he would accomplish this, but
he would find a way.

He had to.

* * * * *

After the disastrous night Sarah had gone back home and
tried to bury her memories in the deepest parts of her mind. She then had to
explain to her father what had happened, that she handed over his life’s work
to protect both of them. And that the man they both trusted planned to take credit
for his work.

Her father had hugged her and assured her that Latimer would
never take credit for another man’s work. She tried to tell him that Detective
Johnson had congratulated Archer on his achievement and Archer had not
protested.

Her father just patted her hand and told her to wait and
see.

To her complete and utter surprise her father turned out to
be right. Over the next two weeks Sarah’s life changed dramatically.

The Rigdon’s Banknote Verification Device worked and her
father, Josiah Philip Rigdon, was named the inventor, despite his best attempts
at including Archer for his final work. Archer insisted he had only tweaked
what was already there but the overall machine was all Mr. Rigdon.

She struggled to understand his motivation. Did he want
nothing to connect them because he still believed that she produced fraudulent
banknotes?

When Johnson had congratulated him on his achievement Archer
had not protested, making her believe he would take credit for her father’s
work. But then he did the complete opposite and praised her father for his
genius, leaving Sarah confused and no longer able to distinguish up from down.
Did he want to give her father that moment in the light to show all the
unbelievers that he was an actual inventor?

Question after question swirled through her head, with no
answers in sight. Archer and Warren had completely disappeared from her life.

No message, no explanation, no attempt to see her again.
They just vanished from her life, not even trying to explain their relationship
with each other. If that didn’t reveal quite plainly how little value she’d
ever held to them, then she didn’t know what did.

Sarah hugged herself and stood before the window, but saw
nothing. She loved Archer. She loved Warren. And they loved each other.

Their feelings for each other didn’t upset her. On the
contrary, they filled her with arousal, with curiosity and the need to explore.
The three of them together should have been the fulfillment of her ultimate
fantasy. Their perfect triad.

Instead she stood here, alone but for the company of their
secrets.

That like nothing else showed how unimportant she was to
them.

She’d been so sure she’d be in control. That she could
handle the choices she’d made. Sarah’s laughter brimmed with bitterness.

How unprepared she’d been for the wilderness they’d
unleashed inside her. She wanted to be more to them than a figure on a canvas.
More than a convenient lover who had given them a few days of easy pleasure.
But Warren and Archer had a life together. One that obviously did not have room
for her. They had each other. They had their perfect world together. They didn’t
need her.

No one did.

Her forehead dropped against the window glass. She had so
wished for them—no, had
believed
they shared her feelings, but Warren and
Archer had not deemed her worthy of their trust.

That above all else shattered her heart.

A month ago she would have been happy with whatever scraps
of feelings they had given her. She would have been their cover if that was all
that they wanted in exchange for being close to them.

But now she knew she deserved more. She was worthy of more.

Sarah straightened.

She had the memories she’d longed for to keep her warm at
night. Surely, once more time had passed she’d be able to think back on these
days and only remember the pleasure instead of drowning in the crushing torment
of unrequited love.

When she was an old woman she’d be able to look back on her
life and remember that once, long ago, she had loved deeply.

Even if the feeling had never been returned.

But logic was a cold bedfellow and Sarah wished she had
someone to confide in. Her father was completely in his element. And utterly
oblivious to her pain.

Keeping her emotions bottled up was cutting her heart to
ribbons. She needed someone to assure her that she wasn’t as unlovable as she
felt right now. That she still had a future and would find a man who would
trust her as well as love her the way she deserved.

She missed Beatrice more each day, wishing for her friend’s
insights and advice.

Sarah had read in the paper that Beatrice’s dream had come
true and that she had married the love of her life. And somehow the Duke of
Missenden had found a way to turn the scandal into a story other women sighed
over.

In the end she couldn’t take it any longer and went to the
duke’s residence.

Beatrice wasn’t home.

This discovery, on top of everything else, broke her. She
just sank onto the steps of the front door and cried. Not great, racking sobs,
but quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Sarah?”

Sarah looked up and had to blink a few times to clear her
vision. “Beatrice.” Now the sobs came. “I am so sorry, Bea, I had to, I had to
turn away. We were in so much trouble I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted
to stand for you and with you. Lord, I wanted to so much, but Father had used
all the tax money. We were in so much trouble already.”

Her friend knelt before her, took her hand and pulled her to
her feet. “Let’s get you inside.” She slung an arm around Sarah’s waist and
helped her through the door.

Sarah thought she saw another figure behind her friend but
couldn’t focus enough to care. “I wasn’t expecting you that day in the park. I
wanted to be there for you.” Beatrice shushed her and guided her into a small
but beautifully appointed parlor.

She sank onto the sofa, her face in her hands.

Bea gently tapped her shoulder and handed her a
handkerchief. “Tea is coming. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Sarah studied her beautiful friend. Her eyes sparkled with
happiness, her red hair curled around her face in waves and her cheeks were
rosy. “You look happy.”

Bea grinned. “I am, more than I had ever thought possible.”

“You married Missenden.” The smile that lit up her friend’s
face was like a stab to her chest. “How did that happen? The last time we spoke,
you were on the way to climb aboard the
Venia
and ruin your reputation
to escape your marriage to Waldon.”

“Yes. Vaughn and I reconnected under very unusual
circumstances.”

“Then why—” Sarah had to swallow. “Why were you in Hyde
Park?” Tears blurred her vision again. “Why did you look to me to be your
friend when you knew it could destroy Father and me?” More tears dripped down
her cheeks.

Bea’s happiness dimmed. “Because Vaughn and I were not yet
ready for each other.” She looked at Sarah. “When I bumped into you in the park
I was just putting pieces together after discovering something about my
parents.” She shrugged. “Quite honestly, I didn’t think past my need for a
friendly face.”

She took Sarah’s hand. “Once I had a chance to go over the
situation I’d put you in I realized you only did what you had to. What hurt was
that you didn’t come to me after my marriage had been announced. Vaughn’s
mother came up with a great plan that explained everything, making me no longer
the main attraction for gossip.” Her grip tightened. “But you never came.”

Sarah returned her friend’s hold. “I wasn’t sure if you
wanted me to after what I had done. And for the last three weeks I’ve been
fighting my own battles.”

Beatrice pulled her into a tight hug. “Always. No matter
what, I will always need you. You will be forever welcome in my house.”

Sarah returned the hug, some of the weight lifting off her
shoulders. “Thank you.”

Beatrice poured each of them a cup of tea. “Tell me about your
battles.”

And she did. Sarah poured out her story, her doubts and
reasoning. When she finished it was as if a mountain had been taken off her
chest. She leaned back against the sofa and lifted her teacup, only to put it
down with a grimace. It was cold.

Beatrice hadn’t said a word since she’d finished. Sarah
finally met her gaze. “What do you think?”

“I am surprised that you have let them walk away without a
fight.”

Sarah frowned.

Her friend leaned closer. “From what I understand, your
father’s invention is going into mass production and will be in every bank and
most of the major retailers very soon.”

Sarah nodded. “We also have requests from other countries to
see if we can amend the machine so it can identify fake notes of other
currencies.”

“There you go. Your father has the monopoly on this
particular device. He can demand any price and is set for life. You can set him
up with a staff to look after him. Vaughn will be more than happy to help you
find trustworthy people.” She took Sarah’s hands. “Your father no longer needs
you to pick up the pieces after him. You are finally free to make your own
choices, but you didn’t even ask them how they felt.”

Sarah opened her mouth as if to speak but couldn’t say
anything.

Beatrice was right. Sarah had allowed the two men she loved
more than anything she had ever imagined to just walk out of her life. Her
heart pounded. Could she do it? Could she confront them and find out for sure
if their love stood a chance? By not going she could continue to cling to that hope
that they would come for her. If she asked them outright there would be no
prevaricating, no uncertainty.

And what if they returned her feelings?

Am I up for another life of watching my step and ensuring
I give nothing away?

Archer’s and Warren’s faces flashed into her mind. Their
care, their desire, their need for her.
Her.

Sarah rose to her feet. Beatrice did so as well.

Sarah hugged her. “Thank you, Bea. You gave me the
perspective I needed.”

“It won’t be easy, Sarah.” Beatrice laughed. “I have one husband
and juggling his moods and needs is difficult enough. I cannot imagine what it
would be having two of his kind.”

“It’s the best feeling in the world and one that I will only
give up on if they tell me it’s over. And maybe not even then.”

“Good luck.” Beatrice hugged her again.

“Thank you. And thank you for forgiving me.”

“No forgiveness necessary. Come to us if you need any help.”

Sarah kissed her cheek. “I will, thank you.” She tugged on
her coat, stepped outside and waved down a hansom. It was early afternoon.
She’d go home and change and head over to their house. If they no longer wanted
her they would have to tell her to her face.

And if that was indeed the case she would travel. She would
book a trip around the world in one of those luxury airships. She would leave
London and the pain behind.

Despite her bravado, Sarah sincerely hoped it would not come
to that.

When she stepped into her house, the new maid rushed forward
with a silver platter. It held an envelope. An envelope containing an invitation
she had not anticipated.

Now she only had to find the courage to answer it.

Archer leaned back into his chair, its leather creaking
under him. The last two weeks had been bad. Very, very bad.

Not on the business front. Rigdon’s machine had broken all
records and Archer’s contribution was paying off very well. Sarah’s father had
insisted that he receive a percentage, even if he didn’t want to be part of the
patent.

But Warren had disappeared into his studio and had not come
out. With the connected bathroom and the sofa to sleep on, he had everything he
needed. Jennings took food and drink in there, but not once had his lover asked
or looked for him. This was not unusual when Warren dove deep into a project,
but it had never happened after they’d fought.

No, they didn’t even have a fight. Warren had just shut
down, shut Archer out.

This was the first time since they’d declared their love for
each other that they hadn’t spoken for more than a day while living in the same
house.

He’d gone looking for Warren a couple of times, but the
studio door was locked and Warren hadn’t answered his knocks. Archer tried to
respect his lover’s need for solitude.

He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He never slept well
without Warren close, and this barrier between them hurt on so many levels. He
didn’t know how things had gone so wrong.

Warren had been the first person in his life who loved
Archer for himself. Not for his money or his abilities or his connections all
over the city. But just for who he was. That love had been a balm on his
battered soul, had eased his complete inability to satisfy his father.

And now he had allowed his distrust and fear of rejection to
hurt the two most important people in his life.

He’d written numerous letters to Sarah, letters filled with
apologies and declarations of love. But it hadn’t felt right to send them. Her
life had changed completely. She finally had the funds and the support to do
whatever she wanted.

She could travel the world, see all the destinations she’d
always dreamed about.

What right did he have to ask her to stay with him and
Warren, to ask her to join their world of secrecy and danger?

He stared at the piles of papers on his desk, the stacks of
projects, large and small, on his shelves. None of it meant anything if he
didn’t have Sarah and Warren.

This has to end. You will never know for certain until
you ask.

Archer rose to his feet. “He’s hidden long enough. We will
clear this up now.”

He strode out of the office as the knocker sounded. Pausing
in the entrance hall he watched as Jennings opened the door.

Sarah entered at the same time Warren marched out of the
studio. He looked as bad as Archer felt.

But she was as beautiful as ever. She handed her coat and
purse to Jennings with a smile that lit the fire inside Archer.

Then she turned to the two of them. Her smile died.
“Gentlemen, I believe we have things to discuss.”

Both he and Warren nodded.

Warren walked up to her, took her hand and pressed a kiss
into the heart of her palm. “We do, but first I have something to show you.”

She tensed, but nodded. “Show me.”

Warren clasped her hand and gently towed her to the studio.
Archer followed, warmth spreading through his body. He should have felt left
out, but he had a very good idea why Sarah was here. She came, that was all
that mattered.

Warren walked through the doorway into the studio, but Sarah
hesitated, releasing his hand. Warren turned to her and waited.

Archer rested a hand on her shoulder and felt her shiver.
“Trust him.”

Sarah took a couple of deep breaths and then preceded Archer
into the studio.

The wall of windows was uncovered. Light streamed into the
room, filling every nook and cranny with sunshine.

The canvas, her canvas, sat facing the windows in full
light.

She pressed her hands before her and slowly walked around
until she could see Warren’s painting.

She gasped.

Warren wanted to pace, wanted to scream and shout at Sarah
to tell him what she thought, how she felt.

But he didn’t. He clung to control, hoping that he had
expressed his feelings enough for her to give them all a chance.

Her hands shook when she raised them to her lips. A tear
trickled down her cheek.

His heart sank, his gut churned.
She hates it
, was
his only thought.

“She—” Sarah cleared her voice. “She is beautiful.”

Warren took her by the shoulders and forced her to look at
him. “You, Sarah,
you
are beautiful, inside and out.”

Her lips quivered, but she smiled and cupped his cheek.
“Thank you.” She rose to her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss against his lips
before turning back to look at the painting. She also stretched out a hand
toward Archer, who did not hesitate and clasped it.

“I was so afraid I would look like a flabby, ugly blob.”

Warren gaped and caught Archer’s gaze over her head. “Where
the hell did that come from?”

A blush spread across her cheeks. She looked down, her
shoulders going up to her ears. “You are aware that I am bigger than average
and not particularly fashionable.”

Warren shook her gently. “Sarah, you are beautiful. You brim
with life.” He threw his hands in the air. “With sensuality. Every time I see
you I just want to touch you, feel you, kiss you.”

Archer pressed against her back. “You have an amazing body.”
He caressed her shoulders and followed the outline of her rib cage. “I dream of
the softness and the weight of your breasts, the texture of your nipples.” He
cupped them and caressed her peaks. “I love the small curve you have here.” He
flattened his palms on her stomach. “It makes me want to tongue and suck your
soft skin.”

He moved his hands farther down and cupped her arse. “Your
bum is gorgeous. I imagine it underneath your dresses and skirts. It is lush
and sexy and when I thrust into you from behind I will smack into it with the
most beautiful sound.”

Her breathing grew uneven. Hell, Warren himself struggled to
remain in control while imagining everything Archer described. He knelt before
her and stroked his hands down the outsides of her legs. “I love the fullness
of your thighs. When I plunge deep inside you they grip me so tightly.” He
caressed the back of her knee. “You are so sensitive. The slightest touch
drives you crazy.”

He lifted one leg and set it on his thigh. “I love your
calves. Smooth and round and delicious. And every time I see your ankle when
you lift your skirt to climb into a coach or to walk up the steps I imagine
kissing it.” He removed her shoe and caressed her arch. “I love this area.” Her
toes curled in response to his touch. “You are so sensitive and soft. I cannot
wait to lick and tease you here.” He looked up at her. She panted, her body
slumped against Archer. “You are incredible. The pinnacle of female beauty.”

She studied him for a moment. Then she gently pulled her
foot out of his hand, put her shoe back on and stepped away from both of them.
Sarah took a deep breath and turned. “Then why did you lie to me about your
true relationship?”

Sarah stared at the men. Her heart rate was up, her nipples
tight and she was wet. The way they described every aspect of her she hated
about herself was amazing. It had reminded her how she had felt that fateful
night in her blue dress, how for the first time in her life she had loved her
body.

Over the last two weeks she had used her looks as a weapon
against herself. She had told herself she was too big, too blobby to be with
them, that they had rejected her after coming to their senses. It was lovely
that they thought her beautiful, but she realized she had to love herself or
she would always be dependent on their validation.

Seeing Warren’s painting of her showed her without a shadow
of a doubt something Sarah had never dared to truly believe.

She was beautiful.

Not in the manner that was currently in fashion. She would
always be too curvy for that and her hair was too straight. But in her own way.

Her skin was flawless, her scattered freckles a decoration.
Her arched back lifted her heavy breasts and light-brown nipples like a feast.
The flabby tummy she had always hated was a gentle curve followed by a round
bottom. One leg straight, the other slightly at an angle, and appearing as if
they ran on forever.

And her expression. Ecstasy and surrender and a bone-deep
knowledge of her own worth. Her eyes sparkled with confidence and sensuality. A
knowing smile curved her full lips.

The woman in the painting was the woman she could be in real
life if only she allowed herself.

This epiphany raced through Sarah like a lightning strike.

All her life she had given the people around her permission
to put her down, to make her feel not good enough.

No longer.

Her determination grew. She loved Warren and Archer and she
deserved to be loved.

They had opened her eyes to the real her, had helped her
find and accept herself, and she would always be grateful to them for that. But
there were still a lot of things they had to talk about.

“Can we sit?” Archer asked. “This is a longer explanation.”

She nodded and went to the sofa. Archer sat beside her and
Warren sank onto one of the stools before them.

“Kemmer was an idiot. We never thought of you as cover. You
are our third, the balance between us,” Archer said.

“You are the woman we want to have a family with,” Warren
said.

Archer nodded. “Warren and I have been together for about
seven years. It was easy enough at first. We didn’t think it was serious. We
were young bachelors and traveled the world. We liked women, so we enjoyed each
other and them, ensuring there were never rumors.”

“Over time both of us realized we loved each other.” Warren
smiled. “We weren’t exactly fast on the uptake.”

Archer smiled. “We still traveled and to the outside world
we lived together as housemates.”

“Archer is being kind to his penniless artistic friend.”
Warren grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “As a cover it’s pretty good.”

“But you are garnering attention as an artist, are you not?”
Sarah asked.

He nodded. “But most people still don’t believe it is a way
to make a living.”

“Anyway, we love each other, but there is a hole. The two of
us are not enough.” Archer rubbed his hand over his heart. “And we both long
for family. We know our situation is highly unusual and not without risk, but
we thought we could find the right woman.” He paused. “We approached one we
believed suitable. Warren had doubts, but I didn’t listen. And when we
indicated we wanted to share she slapped me and sent us away.”

“Awkward.”

Warren huffed. “That would be one way to describe it. We
tried one more time, this time Archer didn’t think her fitting. She agreed to
be shared, but immediately gave us a list of conditions with money at the top
of said list. We never told them the truth. Maybe we always knew they weren’t
the one.” He shrugged. “Neither of them were you. Neither of them grabbed both
of us by the throat and dragged us to our knees.”

Her brows shot up. “And I did?”

Warren burst into laughter. “I knew you were special the
moment Archer first mentioned you.” He patted his lover’s knee. “He had to work
himself around to seeing you for who you are. He is a little slow sometimes.
When I finally met you I knew you were the one.”

Sarah swallowed. “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Marriage and family,” Archer replied.

“But I can only marry one of you. Won’t the other feel left
out?”

Warren took her hand. “No. Marrying Archer will give you
better protection than me. He has connections and more power in the city. As
long as I know you love me I can live with the secret and the knowledge that my
children will always be thought of as Archer’s.”

“Love you?” She jumped to her feet. “Love you?” She crossed
her arms over her chest. “So I’m your third choice and am supposed to give you
my love for Archer’s protection?”

Both men rushed to their feet and took a hand each.

“You’re not our third choice, sweet.”

“We want you at our side.”

Lord, that’s it.
Sarah had enough of their flowery
speeches and vague replies. “Why? Why do you want me?”

Archer and Warren froze for a moment, then exchanged a look.
She stepped between them and held up her hands. “No, no more planning and
preparing your answers. Just tell me!”

Warren stepped in front of her and cupped her face. “I love
you, sweet. You challenge me on so many levels. As an artist. As a man. As a
lover. Every moment with you is as if I am racing along the roads on a
velocycle at high speed.” He touched Archer’s shoulder. “When the three of us
are together it is as if that race is moved to the stars.”

Sarah’s vision blurred. He kissed her. Her lips softened and
opened to welcome him. His familiar scent surrounded her, his taste filled
every corner of her being.

“That is why I want you with us.” He gave her one last kiss
before taking her by the shoulders and turning her around until she leaned
against his chest, his arms around her waist, and faced Archer.

He looked at her, his brown eyes so dark they were nearly
black. He gently lifted her hands and pressed a kiss into the center of each
palm. “I am sorry, my love.”

Sarah’s heart cracked. Archer was more serious, more
reserved. Would he be able to give her what she needed?

“I am sorry I hurt you. Because of my suspicions and fear of
rejection I believed you guilty. I lacked the courage to love you.” He kissed
her palm again. “If I shared with you how much I love you, you could have
rebuffed me. I wasn’t prepared to take that risk. That’s why I hurt you.”