by Platt, Meara
Penelope sat back and listened as Poppy and Lavinia began to discuss the details, pleased that Poppy had so easily adapted to the role of Nathaniel’s countess. Despite Poppy’s fears, she was a natural hostess and more than capable of taking on whatever tasks were required of her. She was genuinely kind, and had a calm, soothing manner that put everyone at ease within moments of meeting her.
“Penelope, what do you think?” Poppy asked, obviously wishing to include her in the planning. “Will you review the guestlist and menu with me and Lavinia?”
Penelope smiled and shook her head. “I think the two of you are more than capable of handling this party on your own.”
Poppy began to nibble her lip. “But this is your home, too. You and I are both Olivia’s best friends. Besides, you’ve been Nathaniel’s hostess here for years.”
Penelope reached over and gave Poppy’s hand a light squeeze. “And now you’ll be filling that role.” She grinned. “I’m sure he likes you a lot better than he likes me. I give him headaches.”
Poppy laughed. “He adores you.”
“I happily leave the party planning to you and Lavinia.” She turned to Thad. “Besides, I have a big Scot to tame. He thinks The Book of Love is a joke. I am determined to prove him wrong.”
Thad set his fork down on his plate with a clatter. “That damn book. Lass, here’s a bit of Scottish wisdom for ye. Give–”
“Spare me your lecture.” She rolled her eyes.
He ignored her and continued. “Give a man hearty food, plentiful ale, and a warm bed, and he’ll have no reason to stray. Forget the London parties, the fancy balls, and musicales. Forget the fine gowns and jewels, or fashionably-styled hair. Most women look like they’ve grown a beehive on their heads. Fashionable, my arse. It’s all bollocks.”
Pip laughed. “Thad said arse! Ha, ha, ha! Arse!”
She frowned at both of them, saving her most scathing look for Thad who was a grown man and ought to have known better than to mouth off in front of the impressionable boy. Why did he always have to be so contrary? “If what you say is true, which it isn’t and makes not a shred of sense, then the Season would not be so popular. Lords and ladies would not bring their precious daughters and rakehell sons to London to make advantageous matches. They’d spend no money on fine gowns or entertainments. The modistes and haberdashers would be out of business. The theaters would play to sparse audiences.”
“Lass, do ye seriously believe ye need to do yerself up fancy to catch a man’s eye?”
She blushed, recalling her state when Thad had first arrived. Hair wet and tumbling loosely to her waist. No clothes to mention other than a wet chemise that scandalously revealed too much. Oh, she’d caught his notice. The wrong sort.
He arched a wicked eyebrow and cast her a devil’s smirk to remind her of it.
But it wasn’t her fault. She’d been caught unaware by his return. “Yes, one must look one’s best when seeking a husband or one will never be noticed amid the crowd.”
He shook his head and sighed. “Och, lass. Ye don’t belong with those other peahens in the marriage mart.”
“Then where do I belong?” She frowned in challenge. Her hands were curled into fists, ready to poke him if he uttered a glib remark.
He shrugged. “I suppose we could study that book to find out.”
Which is what she’d planned to do all along. But to get Thad to the point of agreeing with her was as pleasant as having a tooth pulled. She gritted her teeth and cast him an insincere smile. “Excellent. I’ll meet you by the pond in an hour.”
He chuckled. “Are ye sure ye’d like to meet there, lass?”
She rose, tipping her chin up in that imperious manner she’d perfected as a little girl and improved upon now that she was a grown woman. Well, she was hardly that. But she was old enough to be placed on the market for marriage and that counted for something.
The ‘Penelope’ look was daunting to everyone. Even her brother ducked when she tossed a fiery glance his way.
But not Thad.
No, she was a game to him, and the big oaf seemed to take unreasonable delight in thwarting her at every turn. He’d been magnificent not ten minutes ago while riding Thor. Now, he was back to his goading self.
He was still chuckling. Was he going to say something about her almost naked swim?
Yes, he was. She saw it in the wicked glint of his eyes.
And then, he did. “Shall I dress for the occasion?”
Pip giggled.
“What’s so funny about meeting by the pond?” Poppy asked. “And how must one dress when reading a book?”
Pip opened his mouth.
Oh, no! Her devil-of-a-cousin was not going to humiliate her.
She cast Thad a murderous glance for inciting the lad, noticed his chair was tipped back as he sat with his hands casually propped behind his head. Lord, forgive me. She kicked the chair out from under him.
All thought of the pond was quickly dispelled as Thad crashed to the floor, his arms and legs flailing like a turtle caught helplessly on its back. “Och, Loopy!”
She stepped over him as he lay sprawled on the floor. “Poppy, make sure you invite the Earl of Wycke and his family to the party.”
Thad sat up.
The big oaf looked hurt. Not physically wounded, but his feelings were hurt.
It was his own fault. He shouldn’t have been jesting about their encounter, even if the reference was so obtuse, no one was likely to understand it. Pip couldn’t have known what transpired after he’d run off with her gown, but the imp would have said something. Which would have led to Nathaniel asking more questions. Which would have led to trouble.
Thad rubbed his shoulder, then began to rotate it slowly. “Och, ye’re a bloodthirsty lass.”
“And you’re a gossipy, old hen.” She sighed and knelt beside him. “Are you injured? I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…accidentally tripped over your chair.”
The lie merited no response, so he wisely gave none. But she heard groans and choked coughs and laughter from the others around the table who knew she’d brought him down on purpose.
She ran her hands lightly across Thad’s shoulder to make certain she hadn’t caused him to break a bone. He allowed her to touch him, but he wasn’t happy.
He had a hot, angry look about him.
Was he going to do something to get even with her?
Chapter Five
Penelope strode to the pond with the determination of a field general on a war campaign. She had The Book of Love tucked under her arm, and now all she needed was her Scottish test frog. After their breakfast incident, she wasn’t certain Thad would join her…ever. In truth, if he had any sense at all, he’d be running as far away from her as he could.
Any man with half a brain would, her brother had grumbled, admonishing her for purposely knocking Thad off his chair. No one had believed it was an accident, which it wasn’t since she had done it on purpose. But it still hurt her feelings that everyone was so quick to believe the worst in her.
Was she truly that awful?
To her surprise, Thad was seated on the fallen log under the large shade tree, staring out across the water while lost in thought. The sun glinted across the pond, causing the blue water to shimmer and sparkle beneath its intense rays.
Sunlight also filtered through the leaves of the giant oak and shone on Thad’s copper hair. She liked the thick waves of his hair, the broad expanse of his shoulders, and the ripple of muscle beneath the white, lawn fabric of his shirt as he turned to acknowledge her with a wincing smile.
He arched an eyebrow and moved over, motioning for her to sit beside him. “Where shall we start, Loopy?”
“I’m not sure.”
He hadn’t moved that far over, so they were seated closer to each other than was proper, their arms grazing as she shifted the book onto her lap. He’d probably stayed close on purpose, intending to rattle her.
Did he intend to push her off the log?
She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of admitting her discomfort. She’d rather walk across a bed of nails than ask him to move over. No, he could sit right there and feel her elbow jabs in his ribs.
Oh, what was wrong with her? Hadn’t she done enough to him? Thad would never hurt her. So how could she consider hurting him again?
She had been staring at the book, but now turned to Thad. “I’m so sorry about this morning. I panicked. You tossed off that veiled remark about seeing me…” Her voice trailed off and she felt the fiery heat of a blush on her cheeks. “About me in my wet chemise…” Because she was not going to acknowledge how much he’d seen of her.
Lord, he’d seen everything.
She cleared her throat. “Then Pip opened his mouth, about to humiliate me in front of all my family. So I did the first thing that came into my mind.”
He said nothing, although she’d paused in the hope he might accept her apology. But he wouldn’t even look at her. “Oh, Thad. Please don’t stay angry. How is your shoulder?”
“Better, lass.” He finally turned to face her. “I’m the one who owes ye the apology. I shouldn’t have teased ye like that.”
“And I shouldn’t have responded like a crazed Harpy. Then we’re friends again?” She cast him a hopeful smile.
He nodded. “Always.”
“Thank you, Thad.”
He nodded again and motioned to the book on her lap. “Shall we get to it?”
“Yes.” She let out a rush of air in relief. Losing Thad as a friend would have devastated her. “The book speaks of connections we make with each shared experience.” Her shared experiences with him were hardly the stuff of dreams, but she wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. He deserved better treatment from her. She’d do her best to show her appreciation of him. “But I hardly know the Earl of Wycke. I haven’t gone fishing with him as I have with you. Or waded into the pond looking for tadpoles. Do you remember the summer we collected them and they hopped out of my bucket when I tried to sneak them up to my room? Oh, Father had a fit!”
He gave a deep, resonant chuckle. “I remember, lass.”
“You tried to take the blame for it so he wouldn’t punish me.” She shook her head and cast him a mirthful glance. “You shouldn’t have stepped forward to protect me. Father knew you’d never bring those creatures into the house. He would have wagered his earldom it was me, and he would have been right.”
Thad was still grinning at her, a wonderfully sentimental and affectionate grin. “He sent you up to your room without supper.”
“You were more overset about it than I was. You smuggled food to me.” She paused a moment to regard him tenderly. “You even gave up one of your precious raisin scones for me.”
“I was afraid ye’d melt away to nothing. Ye were such a skinny, little thing. But ye had big eyes and an even bigger smile.” Thad nodded. “It was a beautiful smile. I couldn’t bear to see ye punished.”
“Even if I deserved it?”
“Och, lass. Ye were mischievous but never wicked. Besides, I was at fault for suggesting we go looking for tadpoles in the first place.”
“Oh, but we had such fun. How am I to build this sort of bond with Lord Wycke after only one Season?”
He shrugged. “Ye’re set on Wycke then?”
The gesture was casual, with no noticeable pain to the shoulder he had been rubbing earlier. She was relieved she hadn’t maimed him permanently. He had lovely shoulders, big and broad. The sort a girl could lean her head upon.
And if he wrapped his arms around her…oh, her heart skipped beats.
Although she would never admit it to Thad, there was something quite magnificent about him. He moved with a natural poise and powerful grace. He was not a man she could ever best unless he allowed it. And those memories! They tugged at her heart and made her wistful for those innocent times. But war and the passage of years had changed everything. “Yes, I’m set on Wycke.”
“Fine.” Was it her imagination, or did he appear disappointed? Now he was frowning at her again. “Why must it be only one Season? Are ye in that much of a hurry to wed?”
“No, but…” This wasn’t at all what she wished for herself. “Poppy and Olivia are now married.”
“And ye have no wish to be left behind?”
She opened her mouth to deny it, but pursed her lips instead. Thad wasn’t off the mark. And he’d asked the question gently. She didn’t have to respond like a Harpy every time he engaged her in conversation.
“They look so happy,” she admitted. “It isn’t merely that they now have husbands or have elevated their status. They’ve found love. The right sort of love that has opened up a world of possibilities for them. Have you noticed? Poppy and Olivia glow. They’re like incandescent stars. They’ve married men who will be true partners to them, who will appreciate their hopes and dreams, and encourage them to reach as high as they wish.”
“Loopy, lass. I don’t think anyone can hold ye back once ye set your mind to do something.”
She glanced at the book now open on her lap. “It isn’t true. I am constantly thwarted, especially by you.”
He laughed. “Are ye serious? Ye’ve bested me at every turn and have been doing so for years. Pip isn’t the only diabolical Sherbourne. The lad is a saint compared to you.”
She gasped. “How can you say that? Other than the tadpole incident, I’ve mostly been on my best behavior.”
“Hah! Who was it that stole my clothes while I was swimming in this very pond?”
“That was eight years ago. I was a mere child.” She struggled to suppress the bubble of laughter threatening to come out.
“Ye were an imp who led her own friends astray. Poppy and Goose, those sweet girls, would never have thought to do such mischief.” He tucked a finger under her chin and gently nudged her mouth closed. “But there ye were, still a skinny, little thing no bigger than a curly-haired pixie, daring them to take on yer brother and his friends. Ye left us naked and stranded in the water.”
“It was a prank, that’s all. Harmless, as it turned out since Goose refused to steal Beast’s clothes.” She rolled her eyes. “She neatly folded them instead. Can you believe it?”
“Aye, that’s because she’s too good-hearted ever to consider doing anything wicked. Poppy, too. But ye got her to steal Nathaniel’s clothes.” He laughed again, a merry rumble that rose from deep within his chest. “I don’t know how ye managed to bring out the evil in that gentle girl.”
“It wasn’t evil. It was daring. I knew she had it in her.” She raised her gaze to his, proud that she’d brought out the strength in her friend, even if it was for a silly prank.
“Och, Loopy. Ye’ll make yer mark on the world and no one’s going to stop ye.”
She shook her head and her smile faded. “A husband could stop me, couldn’t he? That’s why I need to get this right.”
He put his arm around her. “All the more reason why ye should take yer time. Go on, read me the chapters. We’ll make certain ye get it right.”
Her gaze fell back on the book, but she felt Thad studying her. She liked the weight of his arm around her shoulders, so solid and assuring. She understood what he was thinking. Don’t leap into anything. Choose wisely, Loopy.
She wanted to do just that, but her thoughts were in a muddle. The Book of Love claimed one’s brain controlled one’s feelings, but if that were so, then why did her heart respond every time she was near Thad?
Logically, he was wrong for her.
But her heart wasn’t following her brain’s instruction. The traitorous organ cried out for him and ached whenever he wasn’t around.
The ache sprang from somewhere deep within her, some sort of eternal fountain bubbling inside of her. If circumstances were different, her choice would be easy. Thad. He would be the one she could love.
But falling in love with him meant giving up her family and friends, giving up the life she’d been raised to live, the only o
ne she knew. All these years, she’d been trained to step into the role of countess and move about in Society.
What did she know about sheep?
Or life in the Highlands? Could she live on some barren hillside? That she adored the countryside was of no moment. The gentle Cotswolds was not the same as the cold and barren, windswept Highlands.
“We’ve already explored the sense of sight.” She buried her face in the book, pretending to scan the chapters while trying to bring her scattered thoughts under control. His arm was still wrapped around her.
Of course, it meant nothing to him. But, oh, sweet heaven! It felt nice. “The sense of touch is next, but I’ve been warned it is dangerous. Shall we skip over it for now?”
“As ye wish, lass.” He removed his arm from her shoulder and held his hands up in mock surrender.
“I wasn’t complaining. I appreciate your attempt to console me. There, I’ve given you a compliment. Try not to fall off the log in a swoon.” She already missed his touch, even though he hadn’t meant anything by it. “Scent is next.” She nudged him playfully and grinned. “Don’t you dare tell me I smell like a sausage patty. Be serious now. What scents-that are not food-appeal to you?”
He shook his head and groaned in jest, but after a moment, she saw that he was giving the question serious thought. “I like the scent of pine. It fills the Highland air. It’s a naturally pure fragrance. I like the scent of leather and horses, of course. They’re familiar and comforting to me. I suppose I’d be a failure as a dragoon if I didn’t like them.”
She stifled a smile, realizing why this big Scot tugged at her heart. She’d been trying to get him to think about love, and he was going on about the Highlands and his horse. “I meant scents of a woman,” she said gently, hoping to nudge him in the right direction.
He chuckled. “Och, I see. Well, if she doesn’t have dog’s breath or smell like mare’s sweat, I would be satisfied.”
“You’re doing it again.” She frowned at him.
He raked a hand through his hair. “Doing what?”
“Being dense, of course.”