Page 156 of Their Master

“Shhh,” Smith murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth, and kissing the back. “You’ve already apologized—more than once. If anyone owes an apology, it is me. I was just so…weddedto my anger that I cut my nose off to spite my face.” He squeezed Luke’s hand. “With both of you. I held you at arm’s length because of my experience with Charles,” he said, his gaze locked with the other man’s. “You paid for my inability to see what was right in front of my eyes.”

Luke looked profoundly uncomfortable at his confession. “You have nothing to apologize for, sir.”

“Yes, I do. But thank you for trying to defend me,” Smith said, smiling like a fool for some reason. Perhaps it was simply the lightness he felt inside—the relief of sharing a secret long suppressed.

Smith looked from Moira to Luke and said, “I love you both—very much.”

He looked from a stunned set of blue eyes to a stunned set of blue green eyes and laughed. “You should see your faces.”

Luke glanced at Moira and something passed between them, and then they both turned to him.

“Yes?” he said, guessing what was coming.

“We both love you,” Luke said.

“But we love each other, too,” Moira added.

“Yes, I’d gathered as much.” Smith inhaled deeply, and then let it all out. “I told Moira earlier that I was jealous when I knew the two of you were… together. It hurt—and I was angry.” He snorted. “You know that,” he said to Luke. “You were the poor bastard who had to beard me in my den.”

Luke’s cheeks darkened.

“I’m grateful you did, Luke. I went away to Bristol on that business trip not just to work, but to lick my wounds in private. Well,” he snorted, “notentirelyin private.” Indeed, he’d engaged in an embarrassing amount of debauchery, none of which had satisfied him.

He looked at his two lovers. “You both know what I want—you, both of you—but it’s time I knew whatyouwanted. Whether I can provide it?” He shrugged. “I can’t know until you tell me.”

Again, they exchanged a look, clearly at ease with each other and on this subject. Rather than the familiar jealousy, he only felt a yearning; a yearning to be part of what they shared.

“We want each other and we want you. Neither of us need anyone else.” Moira’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “We know you, Smith—we know who you are and what you need and want—and we love you. To us love means not trying to change you. It means wanting the people you love to be happy.”

Smith was finding it difficult to breathe, his emotions so ferocious that he marveled he could possibly contain them all.

He glanced away for a moment, struggling to contain the burning behind his eyes. When he looked back, his mask of composure was once again firmly in place.

“Thank you,” he said. “I will strive to deserve you both.”

It was their turn to look flushed and giddy.

He cleared his throat. “There are a few things that I need to tell you. About me. About who I was and… and how I came to be Smith.”

And then he took a deep breath and proceeded to tell his two lovers the truth, at least most of it.

There were parts of his past that he’d never tell—parts that nobody should have to know.

Smith would always try to protect them both from that sort of ugliness. Because that’s what he did for the people he loved.

Epilogue

Two Years Later

It was past two o’clock in the morning when Smith entered the foyer of his London house.

“Good evening, sir,” Walter, the lead guard on duty said. Both he and Daniel were seated at the small table that Moira had placed in the entry hall so that they might play cards, or read, and be more comfortable on their long nights.

“Please, don’t get up,” he said when they both made to stand. “Who is winning?” he asked, setting his hat on the console table and putting his stick in the brass holder before pulling off his gloves.

Walter grinned and jerked his chin toward the pile of pennies on his side of the table.

“Ah, I see,” Smith said with a chuckle.

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