by Platt, Meara
“We can’t skip it. This is what defines a man, the compelling need to mate with any female he deems fertile in order to spread his seed far and wide.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “I need to see your low brain function at work.”
“It’s always at work.” He arched an eyebrow and cast her an irritating smirk. “I’m male, aren’t I?”
Indeed, he was.
Big and handsome and strong. Protective, too. Which had to explain the sudden tingle of recognition coursing through her body. Women had urges of their own, the book explained. She was eager to learn more about those. But the male urge was to sow his seed far and wide. However, not just any woman would do. His low brain made a quick assessment of every woman he encountered. Those deemed too old, too young, too sickly, were quickly dismissed.
Those deemed fertile became the desired object of his attention.
The female urge was to find the mate who would protect her and her children, to choose the mate who would stay close to their home and fight off predators. Because if he abandoned her and their children, they would be left defenseless and eaten by wolves.
She cleared her throat.
He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something more. “Thad…”
“Don’t ask me again, Loopy. We’re done with this conversation.”
He still had his hand over hers. It felt warm and delicious. The pulse at the base of her throat spiked suddenly. She couldn’t make it stop. “Now that’s cleared up. Ahem. Yes, nothing more to be said on the topic. Let’s move on to the five senses.”
She slipped her hand out of his and set the book aside a moment because she had one more question to ask him on the subject of his lower brain function. She hoped he would be honest about it. The answer was important to her. “Thad.”
He groaned. “No, Loopy.”
“But it’s at the heart of the matter. What do you see when you look at me? My…” She glanced down at her bosom before returning her gaze to his. “My…those attributes… Would you consider me a desirable female? And if so, what is it about me that you find desirable?”
He was giving her that look again, the one where he appeared not to be breathing. “Pass me another scone.”
She grabbed the platter and held it out of his reach. “Not until you answer my question. What do you see in me that makes me desirable?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s Wycke you have to convince.”
“But you’re my test frog, and I have to know how you respond. Just be honest. It is only the physical attributes I’m interested in for now. I understand it signifies little beyond your low brain acceptance of me. Forget our years of friendship. And our years of butting heads. If you were seeing me for the very first time, what would your low brain assessment be of me?”
“Loopy, stop fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not. We are speaking of science, not romance.”
“Then scientifically speaking…” He stared at her for what felt like an endless moment. “Och, lass,” he said with a soft ache to his voice. “Ye’re a most desirable female. An attractive vessel for any man’s seed.”
“Including yours?”
He groaned again, this time adding a roll of his eyes to mark his exasperation. “Ye’d be more desirable if ye passed me one of those scones ye’re cruelly holding out of my reach.”
She stuffed one into his open mouth. “Why are you always so difficult? I only needed a yes or no.”
He took a bite of the scone before setting it aside. “Then it must be a no.”
“It must?” She didn’t know why she felt so disappointed. She’d always found him to be extremely handsome even when he irritated her, which he did almost all the time. She just assumed that he’d found her equally appealing. “Oh, I see.”
She supposed it was safer if he had no feelings for her.
Still, it hurt.
Her eyes began to water, so she quickly turned away to blink back the tears now welling at their corners and threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Good heavens! He couldn’t ever see her cry over him.
He sighed. “Bollocks, Loopy. Of course, ye’re beautiful. Of course, I’d be mad for ye if we were meeting for the very first time. What man wouldn’t be?”
He took her hand and wrapped it in his. “How are we going to get through these tests if ye cry at every response?”
“I’m not crying, you big, Scottish oaf.”
“Ye’re breaking my heart, lass.” He ran his thumb across her cheek to rub away the moisture, but quickly drew it away once the task was accomplished.
“I am?” She hastily dabbed at another stray tear before turning to him.
He nodded. “I’d do anything not to see ye sad.”
“Then you’ll help me?” She smiled when he emitted a light moan to signal his agreement. “Truly? But you must always be honest, even if it hurts my feelings. Honesty is most important. Shall we try again?”
He shot her a look that warned it was a big mistake, so she braced herself for the answer she feared would be hurtful to her pride. But honesty was all that mattered. Besides, it would reinforce her argument that she was safe with Thad. He was never going to be swept up in wanton feelings for her or ache to hold her in his arms.
“Och, lass. Honesty?” He raked a hand through his hair and his gaze turned surprisingly hot and smoldering. “If I saw ye for the very first time?” His voice was a gentle rumble. “I’d think I was looking upon an angel.”
Her eyes widened and the breath caught in her throat.
“But my wicked brain would quickly take over. I’d be looking at yer breasts and finding their fullness to my liking. Then I’d be looking at the rest of yer fine body and finding it equally pleasing. I’d be looking at yer lips and wanting to kiss them, wanting to feel their softness against my mouth. I’d want to wrap ye in my arms and have my way with ye.”
Fertile female. Need to mate with her. Those were the words used in The Book of Love, but Thad was speaking to her in his deep, honeyed brogue, making her insides melt. On his lips, the words did not sound scientific at all, just deliciously seductive.
Penelope cleared her throat and broke away from his torrid gaze. “The book describes the male brain as functioning on two levels, the low and the high. When a man’s brain is at its lowest functioning level, he is only thinking of sex. But it is a necessary function, for this is how he spreads his seed and populates the earth with his offspring.”
She turned to him, saw his gaze was still hot enough to melt her insides, and quickly glanced at the book again. “This is the importance of the question I asked you. What do you see when you look at me? By your description, I think you would find me to be a suitably fertile female.”
She felt his grin, but refused to look up. “I think your assessment is that I’d be among the women with whom you’d choose to mate.”
He gave a choking laugh. “Loopy! I know ye don’t think much of me, but I’m no hound. Among the women with whom I’d mate? There’ll only be one for me. That’ll be my wife. And I’ll be marrying her as soon as I return to Caithness.”
“You have a sweetheart? In the Highlands?” Her heart sank straight down to her toes. When would he have met her since he’d been away fighting on the Continent all these years? Perhaps an arranged marriage to a girl he hardly knew. “I didn’t realize. Will you marry her before the year is out?”
“Lass, what business is it of yours? Why should you care?” His expression sobered. “But it’s time. Beast is now married. So is yer brother. We’d thought to have a little fun when we got home. Sow a few more wild oats. In truth, our hearts weren’t in it.”
Penelope held back a sigh of despair. Thad with a sweetheart? It wasn’t fair of her to resent it, but she wasn’t ready to share him with anyone else just yet.
“England is finally at peace, lass. Who knows for how long? What we three quickly realized we needed, despite our bravado, was the love of a good woman. Someone to hold in
our arms each night. Someone to bear our bairns and make us a family.”
He placed his hand over hers. “Ye needn’t worry. Beast found his Goose. Nathaniel found his Poppy. But I know we are not meant to be. So, I’ll help ye with Wycke, but ye must be honest with yourself. Don’t force yer heart to feel something it cannot feel for him or ye’ll be unhappy for the rest of yer life.”
She merely nodded, too overcome to speak without her voice shaking.
Why was he suddenly so wise and tender?
Had he always been this way, and she’d just never bothered to notice? “Thad, promise me you’ll do the same. Don’t settle for just anyone. She must be perfect. Kind and gentle, and genuinely caring for you.”
He regarded her as though she’d suddenly grown two heads.
But she was undaunted. “Promise me, Thad. Please.”
Who was this girl?
Tears threatened to fall again, but she fought them back. Why was she suddenly so overset he’d found someone to love?
Could it be because it wasn’t her?
Chapter Three
“What are ye going on about, Loopy? Why should ye care if I have a sweetheart or not?” Thad muttered, wishing Pip would come along and drop a spider in their midst to break up their conversation. “Ye’ve already said ye have no wish to marry me.”
“I don’t.” But she had her chin tipped up in indignation and was casting him a fiery look that would burn a lesser man to cinders.
“Then my love life is irrelevant.” He didn’t have one anyway. No sweetheart. No mistress. No casual dalliances. Just an ache in his heart for this fiery, sharp-tongued girl who would never have him. “So let’s get on with this test frog business. Read me the chapter about the five senses.”
Not that he wanted to continue, but he didn’t have the strength to break away. Where was that devil-child when one needed him?
And where were his friends? Nathaniel should have noticed his arrival and joined them by now. Sherbourne Manor was his home, after all. Beast was often in London these days, so it was possible he’d left Goose behind at Gosling Hall while he ran around on official Crown business.
“Each sense has its own chapter,” she said, breaking into his thoughts and regaining his attention. “Shall we start with the sense of sight?”
“Whatever you suggest.” He glanced around. “And speaking of sight, I haven’t seen Nathaniel yet. Where is he?”
“He and Beast rode to Coventry early this morning, but they’ll be back in time for supper.”
“And where is Lavinia? I’m sorry, lass. I should have asked earlier.” Stumbling across Loopy in nothing but a wet chemise still had his senses in a wild tumble. The incident had occurred over an hour ago, but his body had yet to cool down.
Hah.
His blood was on fire, and if the blasted girl refused to stop talking about physical attributes and shoving The Book of Love at him, he was going to behave like a low brain specimen and do something very, very foolish.
And now they were to speak about the sense of sight. What more could he say?
Although he’d described the look of her when discussing his low brain sensibilities, his opinion would not change as they moved on to the higher functions of the male brain. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever met, and she grew prettier by the day. The sight of her filled his heart with joy even when she vexed him.
He would keep the thought buried deep inside of him.
She did not want to hear those words from him.
Penelope began to nibble her lip. “My aunt hasn’t been feeling well lately. I hope it’s just a passing discomfort, but I’m worried about her. That nasty business with Andrew Gordon seems to have overset her. She hasn’t been quite herself ever since. Nothing I do or say seems to help.”
She cast him another vulnerable look.
Twice in one day.
He rarely saw such a look on her face, for she was a determined force of nature and never appealed to anyone for help.
“Thad, I can understand Nathaniel being angry about the bounder forging his signature and pretending to act on his behalf while up to no good. But why would my aunt still care so greatly? I think something more happened, but Nathaniel won’t tell me, and neither will Lavinia. Has he said anything to you?”
“No, lass. But I haven’t pressed him on the matter. He’ll tell me if he wishes to.”
Penelope pursed her lips, a mark of her displeasure. “How can we leave it alone? It could be something important.”
“It could. But it’s none of our business until Nathaniel decides to make it our business.” He thumped his hand on the book to hold it at the page she had opened. “Read the chapter about the sense of sight. I’m curious what it says.”
She sighed. “I’ll never understand men.”
He arched an eyebrow. “And I’ll never understand women.”
“I suppose this is why The Book of Love is so helpful. It educates us about our differences, but also about what we have in common.” Her lips remained pursed, but she said nothing more about the Andrew Gordon affair.
After a moment, she removed his hand from the page and looked up at him again. “The author claims what we overlook is as important as what we see. I think a good test would be for us to look at each other and discuss what we notice about one other. Hold nothing back.”
“Ye’re asking for my opinion again? This time thinking about what I’ve missed.” He leaned toward her and a slow grin spread across his face. “I’ll have to study ye closely. Now that’s an intriguing proposition. I’m to use you as my test frog.”
Her eyes rounded in horror and she gasped. “No, you are not to test anything out on me. This is merely a preliminary discussion.”
“Ah, I see. Ye’re scouting me out. Ye’ve decided it helps to know what the enemy is thinking.”
He didn’t mean it to be hurtful, but she took it that way.
She cast him yet another pained look. “You are not my enemy. This isn’t a battle. This book is about the beauty of love and how our happiness as a couple is enriched when we use our five senses. Not that you and I are a couple, or ever will be.”
“I know, lass. I meant nothing by it. I’ve spent most of these past eight years in the midst of war. One campaign after another. My brain hasn’t settled to peacetime yet.”
“Oh, Thad.” She rested her hand on his arm again. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, lass. Don’t be. I survived with hardly a scratch on me. And I’m here now, among friends.” He playfully tugged on her ear. “Yes, I consider you a friend. Even though ye’re still the most vexing lass I’ve ever met. Now, do as the book says. Look at me. What do you see?”
To his surprise, she blushed to her roots.
Hell, what did she see?
He stifled a grin as he noticed the pulse at the base of her neck begin to throb. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Thad was no coxcomb, but he knew the signs of a woman interested in a man. Loopy would fly off like a Harpy if he dared mention it. There was no point. Mere physical attraction was not enough to convince Loopy to marry him. “I see a big man. Handsome in a rugged way. Broad mouth. High cheekbones. Wicked glint in your eyes. Your turn.”
“I’ve already described you physically.”
She glanced at the pages again. “Describe my other attributes. What do you think of when you look at me?”
“Trouble.” He leaned even closer and grinned. “But a good sort of trouble, if that makes any sense. You’re opinionated. Always challenging. Ye think for yourself. Nothing bland or docile about ye, lass. Ye’ll never be a biddable wife to any man.”
He ran a hand through his mane of red hair. “Ye may be a Sassenach, but ye have the heart of a Highlander. I mean it as a compliment.”
He wasn’t certain how Loopy would take his words, but was not about to find out. Pip chose that moment to burst out of the house and tear across the garden toward the back gate leading onto the road to Wellesford. His implacable
governess, a sturdy Scotswoman by the name of Addie, ran after him. But the boy was young and spry, and Addie, who looked to be about forty years old, would never catch up to him.
“Bollocks, what did the lad do now?” He rose, and Loopy did the same. “I’ll go after him.”
“I’ll go with you,” she said.
“The lad is obviously overset. Stay here. Let me talk to him.”
She frowned. “Because he’ll respond better to a man?”
“Yes.” This is what he meant about her not being docile or biddable. If he said night, she’d say day. If he said no, she’d say yes. Besides being vexing, she was the most contrary lass he’d ever met.
Arguing with her was useless. And now Pip was almost at the gate and about to run onto the road.
He took off after the lad, quickly passing Addie who was breathing hard and had her hand clutched to her rib cage. He caught the boy and snatched him up in his arms. “Whoa, Pip. Where are ye going?”
“I don’t want to take a nap!” He squirmed in Thad’s arms.
Addie and Loopy caught up to him. “Och, the rascal deserves to be sent to his room without his supper,” Addie said between deep gulps of air. “The little bandit tipped over his mattress and said he wanted to see the horses.”
“There’s a yearling sale in town today,” Loopy confirmed. “Pip’s gentle mare is quite old and frail.” She said nothing more, but her expression was all he needed to see to understand her concern. The lad had lost both parents. She didn’t want him riding an aged mare who could very well die while he was in the saddle.
“Nathaniel said I could have my own horse when I’m older.” Pip was still squirming, but Thad wasn’t letting go of him. “I want a horse. I want a real horse!”
Perhaps the fear of another beloved thing dying was what sparked Pip’s tantrum. Although they teasingly referred to Pip as the devil-child, the lad also had a lot of good in him. Thad hoped his mischief would be tempered by maturity as he grew into a man. “I’ll strike a bargain with ye.”