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The Taste of Love

Page 2

by Platt, Meara

He was raw and untamed. He teased her mercilessly. He was irreverent, impertinent, and arrogant. He would never be a biddable husband. Not that she wanted a doting milksop, but shouldn’t there be something other than the two of them constantly butting heads? Besides, his home was in Caithness. It may as well have been on the other side of the world; it was so isolated and foreign to her.

  A young woman would have to love Thad to the depths of her soul to give up London and the lovely Cotswolds and all her friends and family to… What was she thinking? Thad would return to Caithness as soon as the ship transporting his regiment arrived in Plymouth. He’d ride off with his brothers, cousins, and others of his clan, and she’d likely never see him again.

  The thought saddened her.

  She wasn’t certain why, for they hadn’t seen each other in years until this summer. She’d known him when she was a little girl. He, Beast, and her brother, Nathaniel, had been schoolmates. Beast and Thad had often come to the Sherbourne home for holidays or casual visits, especially Thad, for he lived too far north to make it to his home and back in the few weeks between end of term and start of another.

  “But will he stop at just one kiss?” Emily asked, nudging her out of her musings. She began to giggle again, one of those knowing, naughty giggles.

  “What?”

  “Would you want him stop at just one? I would clutch that big body of his and–”

  “Emily, enough!” Did the girl have no common sense? “I am not going to kiss him. Certainly not right away. Perhaps never. Most likely never.”

  Her maid shrugged and began to rummage through Penelope’s wardrobe for proper undergarments and a new gown for her to wear. “What about this apricot dimity? It’s just the thing.”

  Penelope nodded. “It’ll do nicely.”

  The gown was more sophisticated than her day gowns, the neckline fashionably styled to accentuate her bodice. Modestly, of course. The London fashions were more daring, but here in the countryside, one did not walk around with one’s assets spilling out.

  The aroma of raisin scones wafted into the hall as she descended the stairs and made her way to the garden. Soames, their ever-reliable butler, had set out cups and plates on one of the wrought iron tables under a shade tree and would soon wheel out the tea cart.

  She was just about to sit down when she spotted her friends, Olivia and Poppy, walking toward her. “We’re going to Miss Billings’s bookshop for this week’s reading club,” Olivia said. “Care to join us?”

  “I can’t. Thad is back.”

  Poppy gasped. “He is? When did he return? More important, what are you going to do to him?”

  “Nothing.” She reached for The Book of Love she’d brought down with her. “Well, something obviously. But this book is about love. I’m not putting him through the twelve labors of Hercules.”

  “Go easy on him,” Poppy warned. “Nathaniel says he’s going through a difficult time now that he’s home and his regiment has been delayed over a month returning to England. And he’s received no lists yet. That cannot bode well.”

  Olivia nodded. “Beast says the same. He’s worried about Thad. But perhaps these tests are just the distraction he needs. We’ll help you, of course.”

  “Olivia is more of an expert than I am.” Poppy shook her head. “I don’t know what I did to your brother to make him fall in love with me. I’m just glad he did. And the best part… Well, one of the best parts,” she continued with a blush, “is that we are now sisters. And Olivia is our closest neighbor. We’ll always be together.”

  Olivia cleared her throat. “Not if Penelope marries Thad. He’ll take her back to his home in the Highlands.”

  “Which is why I have no intention of marrying him.” Penelope needed to put a stop to any matchmaking plans her own friends would hatch. “This is why he’s safe. I’ve decided to set my cap for the Earl of Wycke. He seems to be a very nice man. His mother and sister are lovely. His seat is within a day’s ride of Sherbourne Manor.”

  Poppy nodded. “And he’s nice looking, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose he is.” Penelope shook her head with more conviction. “He is.”

  Olivia frowned. “Well, that was a rousing commendation of him. Does the mere look of him raise butterflies in your stomach? Curl your toes?”

  Penelope stifled her frustration. “Not yet, but I intend to work on falling in love with him once we’re back in London. I’ll see how Thad responds to my various tests and then use the same ones on Wycke. Simple enough.”

  Both of her friends looked doubtful, but they said no more as Thad appeared. They greeted him warmly and then marched off to Wellesford, whispering to each other and giggling as they hurried away.

  “Where are they going?” Thad had washed and shaved, and changed out of his dust-stained travel clothes into finer garments. He now wore buff breeches, a white lawn shirt that enhanced the breadth of his chest, and a vest of deep, forest green that seemed to bring out the hazel-green of his eyes and the dark, chestnut red of his hair.

  “Miss Billings has started a reading club. They’ve become members.”

  “Ah. And you?”

  He wore no cravat or jacket, which was typical of him not to conform to proper attire, but she couldn’t berate him for it. The air was warm and moist, and the breeze that had earlier felt cool upon her skin because her clothes were wet, now felt hot and made her fresh gown stick to her body. Autumn would soon be upon them, but it was still uncomfortably warm. Or was it Thad’s nearness that was kindling her insides? He looked awfully big and ruggedly handsome. How could one overlook his muscles when he refused to cover them up with a jacket?

  “Me? I’ve joined the book club as well, but I’ll skip this meeting since you’re back and we have work to do.”

  “Ye are doing nothing to me until I have my raisin scones.” He sank into the chair beside hers and stretched his long legs in front of him.

  His boots were scuffed from wear, but she did not pass a comment. Nathaniel’s valet, Greville, would attend to it later. “Here they are now,” she said when Soames brought out a platter of divinely scented, piping-hot treats along with the tea cart. “A dozen for us to share.”

  He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “What makes ye think I’m sharing them?”

  She laughed. “Very well, hoard them for all I care. My gowns are too snug anyway, what with all these weddings to celebrate and me testing every course of the festive food before it was set out.”

  His expression turned wicked. “Snug looks good on you. No man will complain about that.” He nodded to the tome bound in faded red leather on the table beside her. “What does your book have to say on the subject?”

  “Do you wish to start our work now?” She was pleasantly surprised, certain he’d give her endless trouble even about reading a mere page or two. “I thought you’d prefer to eat first.”

  He leaned close. She tried not to grow giddy from his divine scent of musk and maleness. Oh, she’d read The Book of Love several times over and understood the importance of the five senses. Touch. Taste. Sight. Hearing. Scent.

  Her senses were in a mad spin right now, trying to take all of him in. His look. Splendid, of course. He was big and hard-muscled, and had a handsome face. Not in any elegant, classical sense, but still strikingly appealing. His scent. It took all her resolve not to throw her arms around him and put her nose to his neck to breathe him in. Animals used scent to attract each other, and apparently civilized beings did as well. She doubted Thad was purposely using his scent to attract her, for she was the last woman on earth he wished to entice. He thought of her as a pesky gnat he could not swat away.

  Still, she took a few more breaths of him.

  Discreetly, of course.

  “I can work and eat at the same time.” He frowned. “Or don’t ye think this big, dumb Scot can handle two tasks at once?”

  She frowned back. “Don’t say that about yourself.” She cast him a sheepish grin. “Only I can say it about you. And yo
u know I don’t really mean it. However, you are thick-headed and impossibly annoying at times.”

  “Och, lass. So are ye,” he said in a soft, teasing way so that his brogue slid over her like warm honey. Oh, the sound of his voice! She’d always liked its deep, rumbling lilt.

  She sighed. “I know. But you must admit, you purposely instigate. No one else riles me as efficiently as you do. You have only to cast me that look and I start squawking like a mad hen.”

  He appeared surprised, even a little confused. “What look?”

  “Any look,” she admitted. “Even a mere glance will set me off. There’s always a challenge in your eyes. We never simply engage in conversation. We spar like boxers in a match, each one trying to land a blow to the other.”

  He frowned. “Loopy, how can ye think I’d ever hurt you?”

  “Never intentionally. I know you love us all. Me, Olivia, and Poppy, as though we were your sisters.”

  “I do, lass. Ye know I’d give my life to protect any of you.”

  “I know.” She realized he had yet to touch a scone, so she lifted the platter to offer him one. He grabbed three, for he could fit no more on his small plate. This is what she liked about him, the zeal with which he approached everything. Always grabbing the fistful, never holding back. But it was hard to keep up with him at times.

  He took a big bite of his scone and moaned in pleasure. “I’d marry Mrs. Plunkett if she weren’t already taken. These taste like heaven.”

  Penelope laughed. “Oh, Thad. Your secret is out. The way to your heart is through your stomach.”

  “Aye, lass. I won’t deny it.” He polished off the first and started on another. “Food of the gods. That woman is a treasure. If your brother weren’t my best friend, I’d steal her from him without a moment’s remorse. My cook at Thurso is a wicked old viper by the name of Fiona. She boils the flavor out of everything. Ye can crack a tooth on one of her biscuits.”

  “Oh, you poor boy. I can see how it has stunted your growth.”

  He laughed. “Fortunately, my uncle sent me off to boarding school when I was a scrawny lad of six. Everyone complained about the meals, but compared to Fiona’s cooking, what came out of the school kitchens was, in my opinion, manna from heaven.”

  Her heart gave a little tug, recalling what her brother had told her about Thad’s childhood. He’d never known his mother. She’d died giving birth to him. His father had died shortly afterward, leaving him and his older brother in the care of one of their prominent family members, the Earl of Caithness, a granduncle of theirs.

  To her dismay, she realized she knew little else. He’d been the youngest, raised with his older cousins and an older half-brother, then sent off to boarding school. Only six years old at the time. Too young for a boy to be separated from his loved ones.

  Pip, the little devil, was two years older than Thad had been when sent off. She couldn’t imagine Pip not being with them, not getting hugged or tucked in at bedtime.

  What had Thad been like as a boy?

  How could she have been so thoughtless, never asking about his early years or his family situation?

  “Loopy, why are you staring at me?”

  “Am I?” She gave a casual laugh that sounded forced even to her own ears. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  He grinned. “Lass, just come out with whatever it is ye’re thinking. Ye know I’ll get it out of ye sooner or later.”

  “It isn’t anything awful.” She sighed and shook her head. “In all the years you’ve joined us for holidays and term recesses, I never once thought to ask about your family. I simply thought of you as one of ours. How–”

  “Don’t.” Pain etched his features. “Don’t ask now.”

  “Why not?” She’d responded on impulse and realized too late that mentioning his brother and cousins was hurtful. They were part of the regimental ship, the one already a month overdue. He was mad with worry about them, the concern festering like a raw and gaping wound to his heart. “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to answer the question. Ignore it. Ignore me.”

  She stuck the platter out to him once more. “Scones?”

  “Aye, Loopy.” He grabbed another three and stuck them on his plate. But he didn’t eat them, just stared at them for a long moment. “It’s the delay,” he said in a ragged whisper. “The longer it goes on, the more I fear they’ll return in coffins.”

  She placed her hand on his arm, feeling as though she’d placed her hand on solid rock, for he was tense. “The war’s over. I pray it is merely a matter of logistics, of the burden of bringing home so many soldiers all at once. You Scots are a stubborn lot. Far too stubborn to come to harm. I’m sure it is nothing more than official complexities causing the delay.”

  He ran a hand through his hair that was a little too long and curling at the nape of his neck. “It’s disease I’m worried about. Men in close quarters under bad conditions.”

  “Scots are also a hardy lot. You’re raised on oats and that awful haggis. Your stomachs are cast iron.”

  He chuckled.

  She tossed him a gentle smile.

  He caught it and held it for an endless moment, gazing at her in a way that melted her insides. Thad? Melting her bones? Firing her blood? Impossible.

  She looked away. “Care for some tea?”

  He nodded, picking up one of the untouched scones on his plate and quickly washing it down with the tea. “I appreciate ye trying to cheer me, Loopy. But these wartime diseases are something awful. They can fell a man faster than a musket ball or a bayonet.” He turned to study her once again, but this time he was unsmiling. “This is not a conversation for us to be having. Tell me what ye’ve been doing since Nathaniel and Poppy’s wedding.”

  “Nothing particularly important or significant. Reading The Book of Love, of course.” She cast him a wry grin. “Trying to keep Pip out of mischief. An impossible task, by the way. Entertaining the occasional gentleman caller.”

  He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “You have a beau?”

  She felt a sudden heat to her cheeks and silently berated herself for blushing. “I wouldn’t quite call either of them that.”

  Now he appeared genuinely surprised. “More than one?”

  “Two gentlemen have paid me a visit since Nathaniel and Poppy’s wedding. Can you believe it? The Earl of Wycke and his sister stopped by a few days ago. And one of Nathaniel’s London friends, Lord Jameson, came around as well. Do you remember him? He joined us the same weekend Charlotte and her father were here.”

  “So did Wycke,” Thad remarked.

  She gave a mock shudder. “Good riddance to the duke and his daughter. Thank goodness Nathaniel regained his sanity in time.”

  Thad set down his scone. “What do ye think of him?”

  “Lord Jameson?” She scrunched her nose to mark her distaste. “I can’t take him seriously. He’s looking for an heiress and nothing more. His gaze is too assessing, his manner too fawning. He told me I was beautiful. He mentioned it repeatedly, as though trying to convince himself more than me.”

  Thad listened with interest. “Loopy, I know I give ye a hard time. But ye are a decent-looking lass. If ye weren’t always scowling at me, I might tell ye the same.”

  “What, that I’m beautiful?” She shook her head and laughed. “I think I’d suffer an attack of the vapors if you ever said anything that hinted of being a compliment.”

  He let out a genuinely lighthearted chuckle that rumbled deep within his chest. “Tell me more about Wycke.”

  She shrugged. “There isn’t much to say. He’s a gentleman. His sister is very nice, too. He doesn’t leer or ogle me, so that’s in his favor.”

  “Do ye like him, Loopy?”

  She glanced at The Book of Love. “Yes, of course I do. He’s quite pleasant.”

  “That’s a rousing affirmation.”

  She frowned at him. “Well, what am I supposed to say? We’ve chatted little more than once or twice. I don’t know him very well. It
’s too soon to feel one way or the other about him. But I am inclined to think favorably of him.” She tipped her chin up, awaiting Thad’s challenge.

  She’d set her cap for Wycke. So what if there was no heat or aching passion between them yet? It signified nothing since she’d had no experience with passion and wouldn’t know what it felt like anyway. But this was her plan, to learn about it with someone safe. Namely, Thad. “Perhaps I’ll marry him. Assuming he asks me, of course.”

  Thad nodded. “A most sensible answer. Are ye judging a baking contest at the Wellesford annual fair, because it doesn’t sound like ye’re speaking of a potential husband. Inclined to think favorably? Does he make your heart skip beats? Does he sweep ye off your feet?” He made an irritating scoffing sound. “I speak with more passion about these raisin scones. Probably about my oatmeal porridge, too.”

  She leaped at the opening he’d given her. “Precisely my point. This is why I need you to teach me. How am I supposed to know about feelings for a man when I’ve had no experience? And who better to guide me than you? My brother trusts you. I trust you, even though you’re an annoying bee sting to my backside most days. The point is, I’m safe with you. We are not in love, so we are unlikely to do something stupid with each other. No improperly wanton urges to worry about.”

  He choked on his tea.

  “Are you all right?” She slapped him lightly on the back.

  Goodness, he was big and muscled everywhere.

  “I’m fine.” He nodded, but he was still coughing and his eyes were turning red and tearing. He took another sip of his tea as he struggled to calm his breaths. “I am not going to do anything improper with you.”

  “Isn’t this what I just said? It’s perfect. I’ll never have a moment’s worry as we explore the sensations that are supposed to enhance our connections to form deep and abiding bonds of love.” She reached for the book and opened it to the first chapter. “Love does not come from the heart but from the brain. It is the brain that sends signals throughout the body, telling you what to feel. Therefore, to stimulate a man’s arousal—”

  Thad put his big paw across her hand. “Skip that part. Yer brother and Beast told me all about the male’s lower brain function.”

 

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