Their Conquered Bride. Grace Goodwin
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in disgust and lied through his teeth, his thick American accent as fake as the smile on his face. “I already got a wife. Why would I want yours?”
Jenkins raised an eyebrow and Tad spit a wad of black slime onto the floor near my feet as his father preened like a peacock. “She thinks she’s marrying a forty-year-old widower with wee sons to take care of. And that part’s true.” He grinned and his eyes narrowed. “She’ll be takin’ care of my boys, just not in the way she thinks.”
Tad chuckled and looked to his younger brother. “She’ll be taking very special care of us with that pussy of hers.”
It was a good thing I only had one shot of that rotgut whiskey, for my stomach heaved at the plan these men had devised. The father was going to marry a woman and, without her knowing, planned to share her with his two grown sons. The poor woman thought she would be getting a younger man with small children. The elder Jenkins had to be fifty if he were a day.
My own mother had been married to an old man, a man in his sixties and she just eighteen. She was the second wife of my father, the marquess of Barton. It had been a loveless marriage, a marriage solely to link two families. My mother had been a pawn, just like this Jenkins’ bride. Where my mother had no power to deny her fate, this woman was choosing to become Jenkins’ bride. But why? What drove a woman to marry a man sight unseen? Desperation, if I had to venture a guess.
That didn’t make the situation any better.
“Taking care of you two with her pussy?” Evan pointed from Tad to Harry, his back stiff as a giant oak, but none of the Jenkins men noticed.
“It’s all in the family. We’ll all fuck her. Little Harry here has an itch that needs to be scratched. A virgin itch. Well, not quite virgin, since I’ll break her in first.” Jenkins winked at his youngest, Little Harry, who was well over six feet of solid muscle, his massive size no doubt acquired over weeks and months of moving rock in the mines.
“I doubt this woman will be too keen on the idea,” I said, keeping my voice neutral despite the gut-churning desire I had to pound Jenkins’ face into dust. My mother hadn’t been forced to bed other men. In fact, once I was born, the heir, I doubted she bedded any man ever again.
Logan and I would share a bride someday, but it would be for our wife’s benefit, not ours. When we claimed her, she’d be the center of our universe. We’d cherish her, love her, protect her, never do anything to defile her or betray her trust. We would be nothing like these men. If something happened to me, I was comforted to know that my future bride, and any children we might have, would be safe and cared for by Logan. I knew he felt the same.
I was the marquess of Barton, had been for the past five years when my father had died at the ripe age of eighty-eight. A bride didn’t stay safe and warm because of a title. It was the man who’d inherited it that she needed.
Bloody fucking hell. I’d left England to avoid these kinds of shenanigans and we were in the thick of it now. None of us could walk away with the information these men were imparting. The west was a rough place. Wild. A man’s world. It was hard enough for a woman to survive and no woman deserved to be preyed upon by the likes of the Jenkins men.
I didn’t even need to look at Logan to know he agreed with me. Evan was having a harder time keeping his feelings in check. He tossed his cards on the table. “I fold. I need a drink.”
He stood, his chair scraping across the scarred wood floor. Glancing at me first, then at Logan, Evan shook his head. “I’ll see you later.”
I lifted my chin in response and the Jenkins men watched him leave.
“What’s his problem?” old man Jenkins asked. He didn’t wait for me to respond, only leaned forward, then looked left and right. “We’re keeping it in the family. It’s not like we’ll let anyone fuck her. Any seed that fills that pussy will belong to a Jenkins.”
“And her ass. You said an ass fuck is even tighter than a virgin pussy,” Little Harry countered. The eagerness I saw on his face made me sick.
Tad grinned and made a crude gesture with his hands. “You two can have her pussy. I’m taking that virgin ass.”
I was ready to reach across the table and punch Tad in the nose, but that wouldn’t help the woman who was unaware of their intentions. While I had to agree that ass fucking was the tightest fuck ever, Logan and I would only do it after much preparation and only when the woman was so damn hot she begged us to take her completely. I doubted Tad could arouse a woman, let alone prepare her properly.
“You think the people in this town will like knowing what you’re doing?” I asked.
Little Harry grinned. “We’re not tellin’ people. It’s our secret. Ain’t like she’ll talk neither. Since talking would ruin her reputation and all.”
Clearly, none of them could hold their whiskey for their secret was now ours. While we wouldn’t go off and tell the sheriff of their perverted plans, we could certainly intervene on behalf of the woman. Once the vows were said, these men could do whatever they wanted with the bride. Beat her, share her, fuck her. She belonged to her husband in the eyes of the law and there was nothing that said he couldn’t share with his sons.
“When is she expected to arrive?” Logan asked.
Ah, he was right there with me. We weren’t letting these men anywhere near the woman who was coming halfway across the country with expectations of a real marriage. What would drive a woman to accept an advertisement for a husband, sight unseen? She had to be desperate. Alone. The more I thought about this bastard’s plans, the angrier I became.
Old man Jenkins shrugged. “Day after tomorrow. Coming in on the stage from Omaha.”
I raised my hand and signaled to the bartender to bring another bottle of whiskey. He brought it over quickly and I took it from him in exchange for a few coins.
“Gentlemen, this is in honor of you and your future bride.” I filled their shot glasses to the brim as I choked out the words.
Little Harry whooped as old man Jenkins reached across and slapped Logan on the shoulder. “I’d say you’re welcome to stop by later in the week and partake of our bride.” He winked. “But she’ll already be more than busy enough riding three cocks.”
They lifted their glasses and tossed the bitter brew back. I refilled again and again as we played cards for the next few hours, ensuring the bottle was empty and none of them would be conscious tomorrow morning when Logan and I headed out of town to intercept that stage.
3
Elizabeth
As the coach pulled to a stop after hours of rocking and swaying, I was eager for a hotel room and a bath. My back ached nearly as much as my bottom, and I knew when I lay down to sleep later, the world would still feel as if it moved beneath me.
But, we had arrived. Finally! My sisters and I were hundreds of miles away from my vile uncle. I would meet my husband and my sisters and I would be safe. Protected. For once in my life, I would be taken care of by a man who wanted me.
I needed a bath, but I wouldn’t be choosy. I’d settle for a basin and ewer with fresh water to rid me of the miles of travel dust. I’d seen the never-ending open prairie, the tall grass turning toward gold. Hayes was much smaller than Omaha, and the first thing we couldn’t miss on the edge of town was a church, the sacred house of worship where I would soon take my solemn vows.
A schoolhouse stood guard over a yard full of a dozen playing children and a long row of shops and houses lined the main thoroughfare of this quaint western town. The stage stopped in front of the mercantile, and I sighed in relief as the stage stumbled to a stop. A week of waiting threatened to make me daft. Waiting and wondering.
With each mile we traveled over the last few days, I worried. Would my husband find me beautiful despite my