“Godspeed, Agathe.”
“Godspeed to you and yours, Capet,” she replied standing to sail out the door.
Luc had to smile at the arrogance still apparent in her every move.
“Indeed,” he whispered to himself.
EPILOGUE
Cherie sat quietly on the front porch watching the sea. It had been a little over a year
since that horrible day she was snatched from the home she shared with Diego and
Étienne. So much had changed for them all. Her grandfather Gaspar had not been killed;
he had made a full recovery and his assailant had been tried in a real court and sentenced to
life hard labor in the mines in Mexico. The man Agathe had hired had been a low life street
criminal she’d found on the docks. He had lasted six months in the mines before he had
died of consumption. Agathe had made it safely to Canada. Strangely she was content there
with Farnsworth of all people as her constant companion. Word had recently come that she
was expecting, despite her age. She refused to marry Farnsworth, still claiming she could
never marry “beneath her.” Her last letter had indicated she was at peace with her life and
she had begged forgiveness for all she had out them through. It was funny what love could
do. Governor Bernardo de Gálvez y Madrid and his wife had left for Cuba soon after
Cherie’s ordeal and had not been back to the Crescent City. The judge at the staged trial
had not been seen since that awful day. Cherie had her suspicions about what might have
happened to him, but she really didn’t spend her days thinking about it.
Although all who had taken part in her arrest had been punished or dispatched,
Diego had moved their strange little family to a property south of New Orleans near the ocean. The house was massive, built on a rise to protect against flooding with one known
road in or out Diego had shown them several other lesser known routes in case of
emergency. The property built on solid group with acres of deep green lawns but bordered
deep swampland. Diego had trenches built on the far property to keep swamp creatures
and undesirables out and housed his own guards at outposts strategically placed around the
perimeter. All in all, Cherie felt pretty safe.
The strangest thing to come out of it all was the knowledge of just who Luc was. No
one other than Amélie and Claude had known that Luc was actually the bastard of Louis
XVI and the daughter of Philippe Henri, marquis de Ségur, Marshall of France. Philipe
was feted in France as a military hero; he was known for courage, honor and valor. Luc was
raised in his home, every bit the noble despite his bastard status. Due to deep
dissatisfaction with France’s current regime and growing calls for the bastard to replace the
father on the throne, Luc Fitz-Capet simply became Luc. He signed up to be a regular
sailor aboard a ship bound for the New World. There he had exchanged ships and met
Claude. They became fast friends and when Claude had married Agathe, Luc had come
along to be his overseer. He was never a great sailor anyway. The relationship between
himself, Claude and Amélie had grown gradually over time and developed into a true love
three-way match. They really had no idea who the true father of any of their children was,
but it did not matter. Luc allowed Claude to claim them to protect his identity. He hid in open sight from his mother, who had searched for him in order to try to put in on the
throne.
France’s monarchy was in serious peril. The queen was hated, whispers of revolution
were becoming a dull roar. New Orleans was currently enjoying a population boom of
lesser nobility with rumors of massacres on country estates and increasing unrest. Being
become something of a celebrity. Word had moved fast among the Creole population and
everyone who was anyone who wanted to be his friend. Luc had married Amélie within a
week of Gaspar’s full recovery to keep matchmaking mamas and their machinations at bay
and to give the children between he and his two lovers a name. Now Cherie’s brothers were
in demand as suitable matches for women that had been completely off limits to them just
a month earlier. The most important thing was that her parents, all three of them, were
unbelievably happy. And now they were grandparents.
Cherie had given birth to a robust baby boy with ink black hair, bright, gray eyes
and dimples to die for. Alphonse de Aguilar was a perfect happy baby boy adored by all
who beheld him and a father who had never seen him.
Diego had sailed back to Spain with Maria-Teresa to make sure was placed
somewhere she could be cared for and to confront his king. Though her parents had
begged them, Cherie and Étienne had not married. They had promised Diego to wait until his return to do anything. Cherie sighed as she glanced once more to the sea. He would
come back, wouldn’t he?
“He will return,” Étienne gathered her from behind to hold her close.
“I know,” she sighed. “It’s just been so long.”
“Oh ye of little faith.”
They jumped apart at the drawled words, whirling to the front door. There he
stood, a bit leaner with a full beard and more lines around his eyes.
“Diego!” Cher flew into her lover’s arms trying her best to crush him against her. “I
was so worried you wouldn’t come back!”
Étienne stood back allowing the two a moment. Diego looked up to stare in the
younger man’s eyes. He how he had missed them both! He had thought given time away
his feelings would change toward the other man; that he would become repulsed by the
things he had done with Étienne. But if anything, he had yearned for him every bit as
much as he yearned for Cherie.
“Come ‘Tienne,” Diego said softly holding out an arm for his male lover while
holding tight to his woman.
With a visible sign of relief Étienne allowed himself to be wrapped into a three-way
embrace with the two people who meant everything to him. Diego was home – all would
be well. There was no hesitation when Diego took the younger man’s lips. His kiss was all
consuming, demanding as his tongue plundered Étienne’s mouth until he was grasping
Diego to keep standing. It was the first time Diego had ever kissed him on the lips. There
had been playful nips along the back or neck, passionate bites and traveling mouths, but
they had never shared this simple intimacy before.
“I suppose this means you miss me too?” Étienne’s lids were heavy, his breathing
labored when Diego finally allowed him up for air.
“Come.” Diego kept a firm hold of Cherie as he led the way into the house. “I’ve
been away for far too long.”
Diego didn’t have the patience to wait for his lovers to undress themselves. He tore
at their clothing, alternately kissing and caressing first one, then the other. They were both
so different, yet so desirable for their uniqueness. Cherie’s soft, smooth skin and light floral
scent drove him wild. Her breasts were fuller than they had been, as were her hips. He
“Querida, I’ve dreamed of you for so long. I burn for you.”
Cherie’s body ignited at first touch. As much
as she loved Étienne, she missed
Diego’s fiery passion. The way he scraped his teeth across her nipples sent quivers all over.
She had no idea how she ended up on the bed beneath Étienne while Diego explore her
body with his lips and tongue. “You taste delicious, querida. I can never get enough.” She cried out as his mouth
traveled down her stomach to rest between her thighs. “I missed this sweet honey.” His hot
breath wafted across her quim, heightening the anticipation of the pleasure she knew was
soon to come. “Did my pretty puss miss me, bebé? Has ‘Tienne taken good care of you?”
Cherie could only moan as Diego’s tongue took a long leisurely swipe against her
slit. Despite the urgent tension in his body, he took his time licking her cunt with complete
absorption. She tried to buck her hips to get him to move faster, but he would not be
moved.
“Does it feel good, ma poupée? Do you like the way he is eating you little pussy?”
Étienne’s voice was a sensual murmur, his hands cupping her breasts, pinching down on
her nipples as he seduced with his words as much as Diego was doing now between her
legs. “Does it make you hot and wet, petit? Soon he will bury his long, thick cock deep
inside your cunt. It will feel so good, Cher. I know. It feels so good to have Diego inside
me, stroking me.”
Diego groaned against her clit, the vibrations echoing down to her toes. She cried
out arching up trying to get closer. Étienne’s words seemed to affect him to because he eat
her pussy in earnest. He thrust two broad fingers inside her as he sucked down on her clit.
Cherie exploded, her body shaking with the force of her release. “That was beautiful, Cher,” Étienne praises, whispering kisses down the side of her
face. “You are so perfect. Tu es magnifique.”
“As are you.” Diego answered Étienne for her, sharing her taste with the other man
in a slow, carnal kiss.
Diego kept her between them, his hands wandering all over her body as he made
love to Étienne’s mouth. It was incredibly sexy to see them kiss so openly and feely. Diego
didn’t stop his sensual onslaught while he slid his engorged shaft inside her.
“I want to feel you too ‘Tienne,” Diego moaned, rolling over on to his back while
buried inside Cherie. He cupped the cheeks of her ass, holding her open. “Let’s take our
woman to heaven.”
Étienne was so hard he hurt, but he took his time to prepare Cherie carefully before
slowly slipping into her back entrance. He could feel the thick ridge of Diego’s cock
through the thin barrier separating them’ what a magnificent feeling!
“Are you okay, petit?” He held perfectly still wanting to make sure Cherie was
alright. He wanted to plunge inside and take her, to feel Diego against him, to feel Cherie
clinching him, but he managed to hold back.
“Please, you have to move,” Cherie pleaded. “One of you, both of you. Baisez-moi!”
“Oh we will, querida,” Diego promised as he drove upward. “I promise we will fuck
you all night.” Étienne couldn’t speak. His senses were overloaded with carnal ecstasy. Their bodies
moved as one, straining to get ever closer with each move. Cherie’s behind clamped down
almost unbearable tight on his shaft, Diego’s thick, heavy meat seemed to caress the sides of
his own dick. There was no way he could last.
“I’m going to come, cocotte. You feel too good.” Étienne couldn’t hold back any
longer. His hips moved faster, seeking the ultimate release.
“Yes! Please, yes!” Cherie cried. Her body was awash in blazing rapture. She felt so
very full, so beautifully complete. “Diego, ‘Tienne! I need, sweet heaven, I burn!”
“Burn for us, bebé,” Diego encouraged. “Come for us now.”
Diego surged at the same time as Étienne, sending Cherie spiraling out of control.
With a broken scream Cherie exploded, rocking back and forth between her two lovers
uncontrollably.
Neither of her lovers left her as they shifted to lay on their sides. Cherie felt
surrounded by love and acceptance, her life full and complete. She never wanted to move
again.
“I could stay like this forever,” she sighed in contentment, nuzzling closer into
Diego’s chest while reaching behind her to pull Étienne closer.
“I don’t think little Alphonse would care for that much.” Diego smiled as he paced a
gentle kiss on top of her head. “Oh! Have you seen the bebé?” Cherie asked pulling back. “Oh, he is beautiful
Diego! He looks just like you! And he is beginning to walk.”
“I came in the back and snuck up to the nursery. I wanted a little time alone with
my heir.”
He waited for what he said to register. The shock on their faces was priceless.
“What of the king? Did he not want you marry his other daughter?” Cherie
demanded.
Diego laughed, ushering them inside to sit down so he might tell them his news.
The king had been both shocked and sympathetic as he witnessed the state of his youngest
daughter. It had taken five months to free himself from the king’s insistence Isabella would
be just the thing he needed and return to his family here.
“My lands in Spain are secure; my son’s future is secured, as soon as Cherie agrees to
become my duchess.”
*******
Three months later Cherie stood on the bedroom balcony inhaling the flora and
fauna on the night wind. Only southern Louisiana contained a spicy, sweet, sultry scent
and feel in the very air. The breeze was light caressing her skin through the sheer
nightgown she had donned as she slipped out of bed. Taking a glance over her shoulder she
couldn’t help but smile at the men tangled in the virginal white cotton sheets snoring softly. It had been a perfect day. She still couldn’t quite believe she was now Señora de
Aguilar, Duquesa de Suárez. The wedding was larger than she would have liked, though it
was bearable she supposed. It was the ceremony performed later in this very bedroom that
meant the world to her. Here, Diego and Étienne pledged their undying love and fidelity
to her and each other, she pledged hers in return. The all wore identical rings on their left
hand for propriety’s sake, but in her heart she was now married to two men, and all was
right with the world.