Chapter Thirty-Six
Gabriel had never witnessed a more tragic sight.
A beautiful, fierce woman standing in confused humiliation while her husband turned from her on their wedding night.
He couldn’t even hate Benedict for the situation because he knew the man felt a despair deeper than anything Gabriel would wish on anyone.
It was there in his eyes, for all that he stood as composed as if he addressed royalty.
It was horrible, and Gabriel was in the middle of it.
He went to Janelle. How could he not? She wore a silk chemise of ethereal white.
With the moonlight touching her, she glowed like a fairy or a goddess come to earth.
Yet he knew she was a flesh and blood woman, one who turned to him now.
How he wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her safe, but that was not his place.
And it took all his discipline to keep his hands to himself.
“Hand me my wrap please,” she said, her voice low.
He saw it folded on her trunk at the base of the bed, and though he didn’t want to, he left her side to retrieve it, then watched as she pulled it on.
It was not a seductive movement. Indeed, it was the opposite of one, and yet he saw the flush to her skin, the rise of her full breasts, and the tempting cradle of her hips.
His blood surged. It shouldn’t. He couldn’t.
And yet, the way her hair tumbled around her bowed shoulders made his hands itch to stroke her.
He would ease his hand down her spine as she settled herself.
Her back would straighten, her shoulders lower, and her chin would lift as she faced whatever came.
But he didn’t touch her, and so he was left watching as she pulled herself together enough to speak in a ragged voice.
“One of you two needs to start talking now.”
He glanced at Benedict and saw that the man would not explain. In all the years that he had known Benedict, the man had never had once uttered his needs aloud. The shame was too great, and so he locked the words inside. Which meant it was left to Gabriel.
“My lady—” he began, but at her flash of irritation, he amended his words. “Janelle. As much as your husband values you, I’m afraid he does not find you attractive—”
“So I gathered,” she said, her fingers going to her face.
“No, no!” he said, immediately catching her fingers. “It’s not you. You’re gorgeous. Any man would say that.”
She frowned, her gaze going to where Benedict leaned stiffly against the mantel. “But—”
“Benedict is one of those men who finds beauty in the male form, not the female.”
Her gaze turned back to him. He could see her mind working, but in this she had been too sheltered to quickly grasp the truth. “You mean, like Greek statues?”
“And living, male bodies.” He could see she didn’t understand. “For a man to have children, he must use his cock.”
She turned back to him. “I do know how children are made.”
Of course, she did. “But sometimes a man cannot make his cock stiffen no matter how much he tries. Especially if, for example, he is attracted to men and feels a distaste for women.”
She gaped at him, clearly struggling to understand. And when it finally sunk in, she turned to Benedict. Her next words weren’t angry. That was still to come. But they held a bite even though it was phrased as a question.
“But you married me. You married me, even though you have a distaste of me?”
Benedict straightened off the wall, though he did not meet her eyes. “You are a good woman. You will be an excellent mother.”
“No, I won’t!” she cried. “Not if…” She pressed her hands to her face, her body tightening until he feared she would shatter.
“Sit down, Janelle.” Gabriel touched her arm, guiding her gently to the bed. She didn’t sit so much as lose strength in her legs. He was there to see that she didn’t fall.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked, the words half whisper, half plea. “Why—”
“I thought I could,” Benedict said. “I was not supposed to be the heir. My brother—”
“Has nothing to do with this!” she cried out. “He has been dead for years. You’ve had years to figure out what to do. Years to—”
“He thought he could,” Gabriel interrupted. Janelle turned to him, her eyes wide, and he spoke to soothe her. “He still might,” he offered. “It’s a matter of tricking the mind.”
“Tricking the mind?” she gasped. “How? I cannot be a man.”
“But…” He tried to be dispassionate. He tried to solve the problem and not look at her and feel everything that was written on her face. “If you presented him with your back, perhaps. So as to hide your breasts.”
It wouldn’t work. He knew it even as he said it. Even with her magnificent breasts hidden away, her curves were all female. Her hips, her narrow waist, her soft skin and musky scent. All woman. All her.
“It won’t work,” Benedict stated, misery in every word.
Good God. “Perhaps, Benny, you could prepare yourself ahead of time. You—”
“What do you think I have spent the whole day doing? I have tried everything.” Finally, he looked at Gabriel, putting extra weight into his next words. “Everything. Pictures, scents, dreams. Everything.”
“Nothing?”
Benedict shook his head. “I cannot do it.”
The finality in those words hit all three of them. He saw the anguish in his friend’s eyes. He felt Janelle’s flinch as she understood the problem. And he knew a misery that railed at God or fate or whatever had created this mess.
There was no part of Janelle that didn’t draw him, no aspect of her that he didn’t desire.
Even now, in this miserable disaster of a situation, his cock lay heavy against his thigh.
She was beautiful, and he wanted her. She was another man’s wife, and yet he loved her.
If only he had been born the earl and Benedict, the bastard.
He could have the woman of his dreams, and Benedict would have an excuse for his desires.
Society believed all manner of perversion afflicted those born illegitimate.
But it was Benedict who needed an heir and Gabriel who was cursed to long for another man’s wife.
Gabriel sighed. “Maybe in time…” His voice trailed away as Benedict shook his head. Then anger burst through him, pulling out the commander in him for all that he was the subordinate. “Damn it, Benny! Don’t shake your head at me. You created this mess. It is upon you to find the solution.”
Normally when he used that tone, Benedict snapped to attention. It was the one sure-fire way of breaking his friend out of the turmoil in his head. But this time, Benedict didn’t stiffen. His chin did not go up and he did not pull up to his full height. If anything, he relaxed.
“I have,” Benedict said, his voice low. “You need only embrace it.”
Janelle noticed the change in his tone. Her head came up as her hands clenched the fabric of her gown. “What?”
There was a chair nearby, one set at an angle to the fire which still allowed a full view of the bed. Benedict crossed to that and sunk down.
The man had changed tactics. Gabriel had seen the shift often enough to know that Benedict had given up on one plan and had moved seamlessly to the next. His tone confirmed it because there was a note of command in it.
“Take off your clothes, Gabriel. Janelle, please do so as well.”
“What?” she gasped.
Gabriel did not make a sound. He couldn’t. Every part of his body had locked down tight.
“Surely you have heard of this, Janelle. I know Gabriel has. Three people in a bedroom, and all entertained.”
“Not like this!” Gabriel choked out. “Benedict, I…I…”
His friend’s eyes cut to him. “You what, Gabriel? Do you think I haven’t seen it? We have faced battles together, I have watched you with tarts, and I know that your body and mind are caught.” He gestured at Janelle. “Have you had her yet?”
“No!”
“But did you want to?”
Yes. A thousand times yes. He felt his cheeks flame with heat, and he saw Janelle’s gaze drop to her hands.
“I am pure, my lord,” she said, her voice clear. “I did not betray you. I would not.”
“I could not,” Gabriel said.
“I think you could,” Benedict said. “If I allowed it. If I begged you to do it.” He looked at his wife. “Look at him, Janelle, and tell me that you don’t want this, too.”
She shook her head, her mind clearly struggling. And while her gaze hopped between the two of them, Benedict pushed it even further.
“Didn’t you just tell me you are a practical woman?”
“Riding postillion is not the same as… as…”
“Riding my best man?” Gallows humor filled Benedict’s tone. It was the way he covered his own self-hatred. But as much as Gabriel understood what drove the man, he could not allow this to continue.
“Don’t be cruel,” he snapped. “This isn’t the time to jest.”
“It is exactly the time,” Benedict returned.
Then he stood up, his movements languid again and assured, though there was a manic gleam in his eyes.
“Very well,” he drawled. “I will state practicalities. I need an heir, but I cannot do the deed. You and I have a similar look, Gabriel. Same jaw, similar hair. Even our eyes are near enough.”
“You cannot have planned this!” Janelle cried.
Gabriel knew better. Benedict could absolutely have planned this. He’d known it was a possibility. “Is that why you left for the last three weeks? Is this why you threw us together?”
The man shrugged. “I allowed for various possibilities.” He quirked his brows. “This, I think, is the happiest one.”
“Happy!” Janelle exclaimed.
“Yes,” Benedict said, his tone growing harder. “Your children, Gabriel, your flesh and blood will inherit my title, my fortune. Your daughters will be ladies, your son an earl. Isn’t that the fondest wish of your bastard heart? Isn’t that a dream come true for you?”
“Not like this.”
“There is no other way.” He came close enough to murmur into Gabriel’s ear. “This is the only way to have her.”
His every thought rebelled at the idea. But his body, oh God, his body was already burning with the idea. Especially when Benedict pulled Janelle to her feet. He didn’t jerk her upright, but took her hand and slowly, inevitably drew her upright until she faced him.
The moonlight outlined her every curve. He saw the uncertainty on her face, but he also saw understanding. Then she turned to her husband.
“You cannot truly wish this?” It was phrased as a statement but spoken as a question.
Benedict touched his knuckles to her face. “I love him as I love no other. I chose you as I have chosen no other.”
“But—”
“Do you love him?”
She winced and looked away. She would not confess to loving someone other than her husband. But Benedict would not let her hide.
“Tell him you want him.”
“Stop torturing her,” Gabriel said before she could speak. He already knew her desires. She had told them to her, whispered them into his ears, kissed them into his skin. And he had wanted to make every one come true.
Benedict sighed and took his wife’s face in his hands. He was gentle as he drew her face up to his, but he didn’t lower himself to kiss her as Gabriel would. Instead, he spoke clearly and allowed no modesty to color her answer.
“Do you understand what I am asking?”
Her body strengthened as she faced her husband. “You need an heir. And you would like your wife and your…” She swallowed. “And your best friend to give you that heir. Because you cannot.”
“Yes.” He stroked her cheek. “Do you agree?”
The pause was long enough that Gabriel nearly went mad from waiting. But when it came, it hit him like a blow.
“Yes.”
The word jolted through Gabriel’s body like lightning. Then she continued, her voice low but no less clear.
“But I do not think he can. I…” She sighed. “I asked him, Benedict. I asked him before the wedding, and he—”
“He refused. Yes, I had guessed as much. He has always been loyal and more godly than the priests themselves.”
Janelle jerked out his hands. “Do not mock him!” she snapped. “You are putting him in an impossible situation!”
Him? It was no hardship to tup a beautiful woman. It was not impossible to cuckold his superior officer and his best friend. It was merely…
Benedict shook his head. “Honor has always meant more to Gabe that his life. But I think you underestimate your allure, Janelle.”
Benedict’s hand was quick where it flattened Gabriel’s trousers.
A single stroke, both infinitely pleasurable and immediately repulsive.
It was a clash of physical and mental response that left him stiff and awkward.
And it was exactly what was needed to show that he was already hard at the thought of having Janelle.
“He wants you,” Benedict said as he took a step back. “You want him. And I want an heir.” The man smiled as if this were the most natural situation in the world. “There is the solution, my dearest friends. Now it is up to you to execute it.”