“I presume this is where I shall find you from now?” Barnabas said as he pulled on his gloves. “Wallowing in connubial bliss? Well, Manderley may rest, but I will need you to come in tomorrow and sign some statements—the usual protocol. And we have yet to find Alice Gaines or the rest of her gang of cutthroats.”

“Is this what you were angling for all along? Me working for you again?” Simon asked. He followed Barnabas back down the stairs. “What I can’t figure out is why.”

“Does the why matter?” Barnabas asked.

“A little. I haven’t made up my mind whether or not I’m going to dance to your tune.”

“I do not require you to dance,” Barnabas said. He sighed. “I find that what worked during the war is not what is needed here and now in most cases. Did you think today’s crisis at the bridge was the only one I had on hand? I am on my way back to the office in an attempt to avert a financial disaster that will rock not only England, but perhaps all of Europe.” He stopped in front of the door. “Take my advice, invest in property until further notice.”

He put his hat on. “There are no throats to slit, no assassinations to resolve this situation.” He looked at Simon. “There is subterfuge and second story work. And methodical investigation. Things in which both you and Manderley excel.”

“And Hastings and Essie?”

“I didn’t say there were never throats to slit.” He opened the door. “I also find that I would like to have someone that I trust implicitly in my organization.”

“Why, Barnabas, was that a compliment?”

“I do not compliment. I state facts.” He grinned wryly as he stepped over the threshold. “And so I go to save England from her follies once more.”

“How does Mrs. Jones feel about these late hours of yours?” Simon asked. “Does she complain?”

“Of course not. She understands that this is my career. Anyway, that is what Lord Wetherald is for. He can be there when I cannot.”

Simon laughed in spite of himself. “I see. Eventually we all get what we need.” He was thinking of all of his friends, who had somehow managed to find each other in war, a group of like-minded men who shared proclivities, yes, but who were also loyal and steadfast and true. And all of whom had somehow managed to find lovers who were willing to accept both the good and bad that they brought with them, the baggage of war, and of pain and loss, and the stigmatism of those aberrant proclivities.

“No, no we don’t,” Barnabas said softly. He put his hand on Simon’s shoulder. “I myself nearly didn’t. Your dunderheaded friends, myself included, somehow managed to find the most persistent pains in the backside in England who simply wouldn’t give up on us. But rest assured, Simon, very few men are so lucky. Most people go through life alone. Perhaps surrounded by others who might as well be strangers, who will never know the secret heart that beats within their soul. And they will die alone, with their secrets and their heart and their soul locked inside, never known by another, never seeing the light, never tasting love or acceptance or joy. And that is the way it is.”

Barnabas shrugged. “Life is a cruel and lonely journey. When given the opportunity to share the road, I highly recommend you not be an idiot about it.”

Simon was shocked that Barnabas had opened up so much in his little speech and he could see that Barnabas was uncomfortable with it. “Well, that was extremely morose and depressing,” Simon said. “You must be working on a canto.”

“Yes, now that Byron’s gone and gotten himself killed rather unfortunately in Greece, I thought someone needed to take up the torch,” Barnabas said, clearly relieved that Simon had lightened the conversation.

“Your meter is dreadful,” Simon told him.

“My rhythm is perfection,” Barnabas said, with deliberate innuendo. “Wetherald especially sings my praises.”

Simon laughed. “Love has changed you,” he said.

“I should hope so. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“You shall see me next week,” Simon said. “I have things I need to take care of.”

Barnabas paused on the steps and turned back one brow raised in annoyed inquiry.

Simon just smiled. “Goodbye, Barnabas. Take your agents away. We have Essie.” He closed the door.

When Robert awoke, he was naked and Christy was pressed up against his side, sleeping. The house was quiet and the sky pitch black, so he knew it was the middle of the night. He immediately grew tense and looked around for Simon, fearing he had left. He relaxed when he saw him sitting in a chair in the shadows in the corner of the room.

“You’re awake,” Simon said quietly.

“So are you,” Robert said. “Why?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Because you’re in a chair?”

“What? Oh, no. I’ve slept in much worse places.” There was a smile in his voice. “I was just thinking.”

“That makes me nervous.” Christy shifted on the bed, and Robert pulled her close with an arm around her shoulders. “This is new to us,” he confessed to Simon.

“Well, to me, too,” Simon said. “I’ve never attempted any sort of relationship since Giselle.”

“No. I mean yes, that, too, but this, between Christy and I. We cared for one another, but for some reason we had trouble showing it, sharing it physically. I don’t know why.”

“Yours was not a normal courtship.”

“No, it wasn’t. And there was you. Always there was you.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Robert ran his fingers up and down Christy’s arm lightly. She shivered in her sleep. “Don’t be.”

He kissed her warm forehead. The window was open, but there was no breeze and the heat was unabated. He would always remember the heat of this summer. The summer of Simon.

“We have always shared her, haven’t we? From the very beginning.”

“You actually met her before I did,” Simon said. “I kissed her the next morning, before I knew anything about her except her name. She was just so perfect.”

“Perfect?” Christy said sleepily. “You thought I was a pregnant prostitute.”

Robert laughed in disbelief. “Did you? How ridiculous.”

“Even more so since she was at Daniel’s,” Simon said, laughter in his voice, too. “She was completely wrong for the part. But I found her irresistible.”

“I found you irresistible, too,” Christy said. She propped her chin on her fist on Robert’s chest. “How are you feeling, darling?” she asked Robert.

“Considering I was both stabbed and shot yesterday, not to mention taking an unexpected dip in the river, not too awful,” he said. “My side’s a little sore and my arm is stiff. I hate to admit it, but that doctor was right. The sleep did wonders for me.”

“Mmm, me, too,” Christy said, stretching. “Christian?” she asked.

“I had Mary Peppers put him to bed,” Simon said. “He was very tired.”

“Robert, you’re naked.” She sat up, as if just realizing it.

“I noticed,” he said. “I thought you’d done it.”

“I did,” Simon said. “Your pants were still damp. I didn’t think you’d want to sleep in them. I washed you off, too. You were so tired you slept through it. And yes, I enjoyed it thoroughly.”

“Well, damn. I probably wasn’t in any condition to do anything about it anyway.” The idea of being unknowingly undressed and admired by Simon was intriguing. Robert liked the idea of it. It was exciting.

“What about now?” Simon asked. His voice was smooth, almost silky—the voice of a seducer. That excited Robert even more. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life to be seduced.

Christy lay back down beside him and nuzzled his neck. She glided her hand down his stomach and his muscles clenched. By the time her fingers ran through the rough patch of hair between his legs and she wrapped her hand around his hardening cock, he was breathing fast.

“It feels like he could do something about it now,” she said, her voice husky from sleep and desire.

“Good, because I’ve been sitting here like a very good Simon for hours just waiting to fuck you two,” Simon said, and Robert’s cock grew harder.

Simon dragged his chair closer to the bed, right up to the edge, and sat back down. He was illuminated by the moonlight now, and Robert was shocked and aroused to see that he had taken off his jacket and shirt. Simon’s cock was already hard, jutting out of his open trousers, and as Robert watched Simon reached down and stroked it. The gesture made it clear he’d been doing it while he’d been sitting there watching them sleep, thinking about fucking them. Beside him Christy hummed in excitement and Robert’s pulse quickened.

This was carnality, physical pleasure for pleasure’s sake, and he liked it. He wanted more of it.

Simon reached out—slowly, as if his hand was moving through water—and laid his palm against Robert’s calf. Robert felt his muscles tremble at the touch. Then Simon slowly ran his palm up the leg, dragging it along, tugging the thin layer of hair covering it. When he slid up over his knee, Robert thought he might explode from anticipation alone. He stopped on Robert’s thigh, his index finger just touching the sensitive area where leg met groin. Simon let his finger gently rub along the crease there, and Robert couldn’t hold back a little groan.

“You two are a feast,” Simon said softly, staring at his hand. “And I am a starving man.” He looked up then and met Robert’s gaze, then Christy’s. “This time, I want us all to be together.”

“Yes,” Robert said gruffly, his voice nearly failing him as he recalled all the things Simon had told him the day before. Was that only a day ago?

“Yes,” Christy said, her voice breathless with excitement. “How can we do that?”

“I think, despite what Robert says, that the knife wound in his side means he needs to stay on his back,” Simon said. He let his hand glide higher and ran one finger up the length of Robert’s cock. Robert’s back arched off the bed as he panted.

“It was hardly a scratch,” he said breathlessly.

“Better to be safe,” Simon said.

He stood up and pushed his trousers off, then he climbed on the bed, straddling Robert. He leaned down, one hand resting on the bed by Robert’s shoulder, and licked Robert’s lower lip. The tip of his hard cock pressed into Robert’s stomach, and Robert couldn’t stop the sound he made in the back of his throat, something between a growl and a groan.

Simon laughed softly, his breath hot on Robert’s mouth. “You were ripe for the plucking, weren’t you, constable?”

Robert reached up and fondled Simon’s cock, learning the feel of another man’s member in his hand. He liked it. “I do believe I was,” he whispered in Simon’s mouth.

Simon leaned in and kissed him then. It felt strange to have a man’s mouth on his instead of Christy’s soft one, to feel a man’s whiskers scrape against his own. But the wet heat of Simon’s mouth was just as exciting as Christy’s, and Robert surrendered to Simon’s experience and let him dominate the kiss.

Simon broke the kiss and laughed softly, grabbing Robert’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his cock. “I waited this long to come inside one of you,” he said. “Don’t ruin all my plans.” He pulled Robert’s hand up and kissed his palm. “Another time.”

Simon came up on his knees and gestured to Christy. “Get up, beauty. We need to get rid of those clothes.”

“Move back, Simon,” Robert told him. “Straddle me like he has, Christy. I want to watch him undress you. Face him.”

She didn’t do as he asked right away, and Robert looked over to see her watching him in indecision. “Are you sure about this?” she asked. “Don’t do it for me, Robert.”

“I’m not,” he told her truthfully. “I would, though.”

She looked shocked.

“I love you so much, Christy, that I would do anything for you.” He reached out and took her hand in his. “When I first found myself attracted to Simon, I asked myself if it was only because I wanted to make sure there was a place for me in your life.” He smiled a little sadly. “I knew then, I’ve always known, that you still loved him. But I’ve come to realize that I want this, too. Very much.”

He grinned, and he hoped it was as inviting as Simon’s smile. “I like it. I like being so physical, so sexual. I never knew I would, but you opened my eyes to it, Christy. And now I want it all.” He tugged on her hand. “So come here. Climb on top of me and show me that luscious bottom, please. I want to watch Simon undress you.”

“Oh, I plan to do a great deal more than that.” Simon helped her straddle Robert and avoid his bandaged side. Simon loosened the ties on her dress, and he reached down and lifted it up over her head. She wore nothing but a simple muslin shift underneath. “I thought earlier today it looked as if you were half naked under there.”

“It’s so very hot,” she complained. “I couldn’t abide the thought of wearing layers of clothes. I didn’t know half of London was going to be traipsing through my bedroom.”

Robert slipped his hands under the shift and slid his palms up her thighs to palm her plump cheeks in his hands. “I don’t mind at all. The faster to undress you, my dear.”

“We are of a like mind, Robert,” Simon said. He cupped Christy’s face in his hands. “My dear,” he said softly.

“My darling,” she said softly back.

Watching them kiss was an epiphany for Robert. What started out as a soft rediscovery turned hot and hard and possessive in mere seconds, and he realized they had not been together without him. Not since Simon’s return. They had not wanted to share this without him. What they did together now was for Robert as much as it was for them, just as what Robert and Simon did together, or what Robert and Christy did, was for all of them.

Just as the thought struck him, without looking at him, without breaking away from the kiss, Simon reached down and grabbed Robert’s wrist, and he held on. Robert twisted his arm until he could take Simon’s hand in his, and then he rose up on one arm and, still holding Christy by the hip, kissed the back of Simon’s hand.

Yes, he thought, I’m here.

When the kiss ended, Simon let go and he looked self-conscious. Robert just grinned and lifted the hem of Christy’s shift and bit her gently on the bottom. She let out a little squeak. He felt a pull in his side and lay back with a grimace.

“I think you’re right,” he told Simon. “I’m not fit to do much else but lie here unless I want to get stitched up again tomorrow.”

“Never fear,” Simon said, pulling Christy’s shift off over her head. “I know just what to do.” He leaned back and just stared at her exposed body for a long moment. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said. He placed a hand on her stomach. “Without a baby in here.”

“As you can see, I am normally much smaller,” she said with laughter in her voice.

“Not for long, I warrant, with two men bedding you now,” Robert said. It was out in the open now, the expectation that she was as much Simon’s as his. “Are you prepared for that?”

“I’m prepared to be bedded right now, thank you,” she said. “After that, we shall see what happens. I do want more children, and I can only have one at a time, no matter how many times you fuck me. So someone can get started right away, please.”

Simon laughed. “I have spent most of my adult life avoiding any chance of getting a woman pregnant,” he confessed. “I’ve fucked mostly men, or barren or pregnant women.”

“Some would say that was prudent, unless you wished to be married,” Robert said carefully.

“I think it’s sad, because I don’t think prudence had anything to do with it,” Christy said. “You’ll fuck me, won’t you, Simon?”

“That’s up to Robert,” Simon said. “But not tonight. Because of his injuries, I have something else planned. I’m going to show you how I fucked women who might get pregnant.”

“But you said…” Christy sounded confused. Robert was not.

“I said mostly,” Simon told her. “Robert, show her.”

Christy looked back at him. “Show me what?”

Robert slipped his hand between her legs. He would never not be thrilled that he had the right to touch her like this. Her curls were damp, silky perfection against his palm. “Here,” he said, slipping the tip of his finger into her quim, “is where we usually fuck.”

He pushed his finger deeper, and Christy gasped.

“Is she wet?” Simon asked. His voice was tight. “Please tell me she’s already wet.”

Christy slid up his finger and then pressed back down onto it, fucking it with natural eroticism. She was clearly as excited by Simon in their bed as Robert was. “I’m very wet,” she said. She hummed in the back of throat. “More.”

Robert added another finger and she fucked it harder and faster, so that Simon could hear how wet she was.

“Enough,” Simon said, hugging her to him to stop her movements. He looked over her shoulder at Robert. “Now show her where I’m going to fuck her tonight while you’re in her very wet cunt.”

“I don’t understand,” Christy said. She was kissing Simon’s neck. “Show me, Robert.”

Robert slid his fingers out of her cunt, as Simon called it, and dragged them back along her crease to the puckered rosette of her bottom. He rubbed it with his damp finger, his pulse racing, his breath coming faster.

Christy had gone very still above him. “At the same time?” she asked. Her voice was equal parts trepidation and curiosity.

“Yes,” Simon answered. She didn’t say anything. “Robert, very gently slip one finger in there. Make sure it’s wet.”

Robert pushed his finger into her cunt again to make sure it was wet enough, and Christy gasped and he felt her shudder. Then he touched it to her bottom and pushed.

“She’s very tight. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Push back,” Simon told Christy. “It will help him push his finger in.” She did, and Robert’s finger slid into her very tight back passage.

“Oh,” Christy said, her hips moving a bit.

“Do you know the salve I put on my back?” Simon asked her. “I’m going to use that so it doesn’t hurt you, and I’m going to fuck you in the bottom while Robert is in your cunt and we are going to fill you so full and fuck you so well, and you are going to love it, Christy, I know you will,” he promised her.

“Can…can Robert use some salve now, so I can see how it feels?”

Simon immediately grabbed the jar off the bedside table. Robert gently removed his finger. Simon took a small dollop of salve and gave it to him. “Spread it around a little first,” he advised.

Robert did so and Christy’s hips quivered slightly. She spread her knees wider and Robert took that as an invitation. His finger went in much easier this time. Christy was panting.

“Fuck her with it,” Simon told him. He took Christy’s hair in his fist and kissed her as Robert pulled his finger almost out and then pushed it back in. Christy whimpered, but her hips moved slightly. He did it again, and this time she was clearly fucking him back.

God, the view he had of what he was doing, of Simon and Christy, he felt as if the whole thing was an erotic performance just for him, and it thrilled him. He feared he wouldn’t last long enough to get inside of Christy.

“Oh, God, Christy, that’s it,” Simon said roughly, watching over her shoulder. “You love to be fucked, don’t you? I knew you would.”

“It does feel good,” she said. “I didn’t think it would. Oh, Robert.”

He couldn’t stop his hips from lifting off the bed, his cock seeking comfort from one of them. He found hard, hot flesh—Simon’s leg—and stroked it with the tip of his cock, and had to stifle a groan.

Simon still held Christy’s hair in his fist. “This is how men fuck, too, Christy,” he whispered in her ear, his gaze holding Robert’s.

“This is how you like to be fucked, isn’t it?” she asked breathlessly. Robert immediately imagined it, him fucking Simon, his cock tunneling in and out of him.

“Yes,” Simon told her, kissing her ear. “Yes, it is.”

They were toying with him, using his obvious desires to torture him, and he loved it. He let go the groan he’d been holding back, fucked Christy deeply with his finger and rubbed against Simon’s strong thigh with abandon, the pain in his side merely heightening the pleasure in contrast.

“I’m going to put my fingers in your cunt now, Christy,” Simon said softly, “so you can see how it will feel when both our cocks are in there, all right?”

“Yes,” she breathed out on a sigh.

Robert could feel Simon’s fingers sliding inside her. He gasped, and Simon laughed softly.

“That’s right,” Simon said. “We’ll be able to feel each other inside her while we’re fucking her.”

“It’s like we’ll all be fucking,” Christy said. “Simon, that’s perfect. Now. Do it now.”