The Taste of Love

by Platt, Meara

  Penelope took off at a run toward them when their shouts turned to cries of alarm. Her heart was beating wildly and the breath suddenly rushed out of her as Monarch reared on his hind legs and then bucked on his forelegs, and once again reared on his hind legs.

  He was trying to toss Pip off the saddle. “Pip! Get your foot out of the stirrup!”

  The boy was desperately trying to hang on, but couldn’t. At this point, Penelope could only pray he would tumble off cleanly. Any broken bones suffered from the fall would heal in a short time.

  But if the horse took off at a run with Pip’s foot caught–

  Her cousin would be dragged along the ground, likely killed the moment his head hit a rock. “Pip!”

  She heard footsteps behind her and knew others were responding to the cries of the local boys. Thank goodness, Dr. Carmichael was at the party. She’d last noticed him chatting with Miss Billings. Where was he now? They’d have need of him.

  Monarch was still bucking and kicking, obviously frightened by something.

  What trick had the boys been attempting that got him so riled?

  She reached out to grab the reins, but Monarch chose that moment to rise once again on his hind legs. The beast suddenly loomed over her with his powerful hooves flailing. She tried to scramble out of the way, but stumbled.

  Then all she saw was a wildness in the horse’s eyes. All she heard were his frantic neighs and heavy snorts. The breath rushed out of her as those big hooves hovered directly over her, scratching at the air before descending on her.

  She tried to scream, but what came out was an ironic laugh. She’d never had two beaus before. No one had ever vied for her hand until a few days ago.

  And now she was going to die.

  “Och, Loopy!” Thad’s massive arms were suddenly around her like a warm, protective blanket, lifting her out of the way as he shielded her with his body.

  “Thad!” She heard a soft thud, and then felt a rippling shudder course through him, for he was still holding her body tightly against his. She knew he’d just absorbed the brunt of the horrific impact as Monarch’s hooves landed on him.

  He loosened his grip on her and shoved her to safety while he collapsed, with a curse, to his knees. “Bollocks, ye’re the most vexing lass that ever existed.”

  Penelope watched in a daze as her brother and Beast subdued the frightened horse. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Carmichael and Thad’s two cousins run forward to kneel over Pip’s little, crumpled body.

  But in the next moment, the boy sat up with a howl.

  “A broken arm,” one of Thad’s cousins remarked.

  But what of Thad? The two earls, Caithness and Hume, were bending over him as he now lay on the ground.

  She shook out of her momentary stupor. “Thad!”

  She sank to her knees beside him.

  Dear heaven! What had she done?

  “I’ll be all right, lass.” She didn’t believe him, for his voice was strained and pain etched his handsome features.

  Wycke now stood beside him. “It’s his arm, it’s rotated out of the shoulder socket.”

  Penelope gasped, noting the odd dangle of his arm as it protruded from his now torn shirt. She wanted to call Dr. Carmichael over, but how could she call him away from Pip who had also suffered a broken bone and perhaps worse?

  She didn’t know what to do.

  Wycke took her hand and gave it an assuring squeeze. “Let him take care of the boy.” She followed his gaze, which was momentarily fixed on the doctor as he worked on a still howling Pip, and then he turned back to her. “I know how to fix his shoulder.” Wasting not another moment, he knelt behind Thad and gingerly placed one hand above and one below the bone. “This will hurt, MacLauren. But only for a moment while I manipulate your arm back in place.”

  To Penelope’s surprise, Thad readily accepted Wycke’s ministration. “Och, do it. I’ve seen injuries such as these on the battlefield.”

  “What can I do?” Penelope was certain she was going to be ill, but if these men could manage to remain calm, so would she.

  “Nothing,” Thad said, casting her a wincing glance. “Men fall off their horses all the time. This sort of thing happens often enough in the heat of battle. There isn’t a cavalry soldier alive who hasn’t taken a tumble.”

  But Penelope knew it hadn’t happened to Thad before, not while he rode with the Greys. Perhaps as a lad, when he was learning those dangerous tricks.

  “Och, Mother of–”

  Her heart shot into her throat as she heard the crack and pop of bone relocating in its socket. Thad’s face was ashen. He tried to rise, but his kinsmen would not hear of it. “Stay put, lad,” Caithness said. “Yer cousins will help ye into the house in a moment. Ye need to be in bed.”

  “I dinna need to be coddled. Besides, this house must be full. Not a bed to be had.”

  “Why must you always be so thick-headed?” Penelope wanted to throw her arms around him, but there were too many people watching. “Put him in mine.” The instruction tumbled from her lips before she realized what she was saying. “I mean… Yes, my bed. But I’ll move in with Aunt Lavinia. Or I’ll stay at Gosling Hall.”

  Wycke frowned at her. “Lady Penelope, I don’t think–”

  “Or you can give up your guest quarters, my lord.” She frowned back at him, which was perhaps harsh, for he’d just helped Thad when he could have stepped back and allowed him to suffer. They were rivals, after all. “You see,” she said, softening her tone, “that’s where Captain MacLauren always stays whenever he comes to visit.”

  “So it’s more his room than mine,” Wycke said with a nod. “Of course, I’ll give it over to him.”

  She smiled at him. “That’s very kind of you. Quite generous, indeed. Soames will see that all your belongings are moved to Gosling Hall.”

  “No.” Thad gave a snorting laugh and then a yelp of pain. “Ye canno’ kick the man out of his guest quarters. He fixed my shoulder.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes, knowing Thad was about to pull his ‘Scottish code of honor’ speech, which she had no patience for right now. How could she listen to his drivel when he was obviously writhing in pain? “You’re hurt.”

  “No, lass. Just a scratch. I’ll be fine in a moment.”

  “Your face is a bilious green.” She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead that was beaded with sweat. “You almost got yourself killed, you big ox.”

  “Better me than you. Gad, ye’re a vexing Harpy.” He turned to Wycke. “Take her back to her aunt. Make sure she isn’t hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” Penelope insisted.

  “Ye’re trembling, lass. Sit down under the shade tree. Take a sip of lemonade, and…keep out of trouble.”

  She made no protest, understanding Thad’s pride and knowing he had no wish to have her watch him attempt to stand up on his own shaky legs, assuming he had the strength to manage it. She turned to Wycke. “Take me to Pip first. I need to see he’s all right.”

  “The lad’s fine,” Robbie said, arriving at that moment to give them a report. “Seems a harmless garden snake slithered in front of Monarch and gave him a scare.”

  Nathaniel now had the boy in his arms and was marching toward them on his way into the house. “Pip has fractured his arm. Dr. Carmichael set it back in place. He’ll be all right. But he needs to rest in bed. How’s Thad?”

  “The horse kicked his arm out of socket, but its set back in now,” Wycke responded. “He may need to keep his arm in a sling to allow it to heal.”

  Pip was softly crying, but also resisting Nathaniel’s attempt to carry him inside. “I want to stay with my friends.”

  “Och, lad.” Thad was now on his feet, albeit leaning against his two cousins, Malcolm and Robbie. “My bone popped out, too. We’ll have matching wounds.”

  The boy immediately stopped sniffling and struggling, and his eyes lit up. “We will?”

  “Aye. But go on up to yer room now without a fuss
. Look at ye, with yer clothes ripped and dirt-stained. Is that any way for yer friends to see you? Addie will tend to ye.”

  Penelope removed the lace handkerchief she always kept tucked in her sleeve and used it to wipe away the boy’s tears. “Once you’re settled, we’ll let your friends come up and visit you for a little while.” She exchanged a look with Thad, for she knew how lonely he’d been as a child, and how his heart was now aching for Pip.

  Pip was so eager for the company of friends his own age, he would ignore his considerable pain for a precious afternoon with them.

  Thad cast her a tender smile before returning his attention to the boy who was now openly worshiping Thad as his hero. “Let’s meet at breakfast in the morning and compare our matching wounds.”

  She’d never seen a brighter smile on any child.

  Penelope dearly wished to kiss Thad, no matter that he’d lied to everyone about proposing to her. She was still hurt and angry for his presumption, but it paled in importance to seeing her young cousin happy.

  Thad’s soft gaze was still upon her.

  She cleared her throat and turned away.

  His kinsmen were watching them. So were Lavinia and Matilda, as well as Olivia and Poppy. Even Wycke’s gaze was darting back and forth between her and Thad.

  Thad didn’t seem to notice or care. “Eight years of battle,” he said with a light chuckle, “and nary a scratch on me. Five minutes with ye, Loopy, and I’m nearly killed.”

  Penelope meant to tip her chin up in defiance, but she could no longer muster any indignation. He was right. She was dangerous to him. A bloodied lip at their last meeting and now an out-of-joint shoulder bone. And Pip might have been killed. Of course, that wasn’t her fault, but she blamed herself anyway. She turned away, fearing to burst into tears.

  “Och, lass! I dinna mean–”

  “Yes, you did.” She darted into the house as the need to get away from all of them overwhelmed her, especially to get away from Thad who seemed able to manipulate her heart at will.

  *

  Since Thad had not intended to sleep at Sherbourne Manor—not that there was a jot of space available this weekend anyway—he and Dr. Carmichael were now seated outdoors in an alcove near the kitchen while the good doctor tended to his injury.

  “Lord Wycke did a commendable job,” the doctor muttered. “I’ll bind your shoulder to keep the bone in place, but first I’ll have to cleanse your wound. I see blood around your shoulder and across your back. I’m afraid Monarch’s hooves tore your skin. In the shape of a horseshoe, I’ll wager. You’ll have to take your shirt off so I can treat it.”

  “I’ll help ye.” Robbie was by the kitchen door, flirting with several maids, but scrambled to Thad’s side.

  Dr. Carmichael laughed. “Fine, but not here.” He glanced at the maids who’d also heard his comment and were beginning to gather around Thad. “In Lord Welles’s study. That should lend us some privacy.”

  Robbie grinned. “The lasses will be sorely disappointed. I’ll see what I can do to assuage them.”

  “Och, Robbie. The earl is my best friend. I’m trying to woo his sister.” Thad grunted to acknowledge the poor job he’d done of it so far. “I don’t need ye merrily ploughing yer way through his maidservants. Just behave yerself for once.” He ran a hand through his already unkempt hair. “And where’s yer brother?”

  “Over there.” Robbie pointed toward the rose garden.

  Thad rose to his unsteady feet for a better view. “Bollocks.” Malcolm was strolling with Wycke’s sister. The big ox had a stupid grin on his face, while Wycke’s sister gazed up at him with adoring eyes. “Has the world gone mad?”

  Perhaps Monarch had kicked him in the head and he was now unconscious, merely having unsettling dreams.

  But the delectable scents of roasting meat and fresh baked bread emanating from the kitchen, and the pain tearing through his shoulder in hot, intense jolts, suggested he was awake and this was not merely a bad dream that would soon end.

  Was Wycke aware Anne was about to be seduced by a MacLauren?

  He’d deal with Malcolm later.

  Penelope was the more urgent problem. He needed to speak to her. He couldn’t leave things as they were between them, for he’d unwittingly insulted her, and she’d fled to her bedchamber in tears. “I’ll meet ye in Nathaniel’s study in a few minutes,” he told Dr. Carmichael and Robbie. “There’s something I must do first.”

  Ignoring their protests, he marched inside, although some might consider it more stumbling in. He barely made it up the servants’ stairs. By the time he reached the first story landing, he was breathing heavily.

  It had taken quite some effort to maintain his balance and not tumble down the stairs.

  Perhaps this was not his brightest idea.

  He glanced down at himself to conduct a quick assessment of the damage. He already knew his shirt was torn at the spot Monarch’s hooves had struck him. But it was also stained along the front, that deep-ground streak of grass occurring when he fell hard after the blasted beast had done his worst to him.

  His body was now dripping in sweat, for it had been no easy feat to climb those stairs.

  Since he felt no damp ooze down his back, he doubted he was still bleeding. But his shirt was now stuck to his skin, which meant he’d bleed again once the doctor peeled the fabric away.

  He took a deep breath and groaned. Perhaps his nose was off, but between the sweat and blood and grime, his scent was hardly that of a Scottish rose.

  This had to be his stupidest idea ever, but his heart ached with love for Loopy, and he needed to make her understand how he felt before he was put in bed and dosed with enough laudanum to knock him out for the night.

  He started down the hall toward her bedchamber. “Loopy,” he said, quietly knocking at her door.

  “Go away.” Her response was muffled because they were on opposite sides of the heavy wood door, but there was also an irritatingly persistent ringing in his ears and the floor beneath him had now begun to spin.

  “No, lass. I cannot. Let me in.” He knocked again, a little more forcefully this time. “It’s me. Thad.” Of course, she knew exactly who it was. No one else called her Loopy in a deep Scottish brogue. Perhaps he ought to try using her given name. “Penelope. Lass.”

  She still refused to respond.

  Or had she? He simply couldn’t hear, for the bells were no longer quietly ringing between his ears but clanging with the resounding force of Yorkminster church bells.

  He waited another moment and placed his hand on the door latch. “Are ye decent? I’m coming in.”

  “No, Thad! Don’t you dare!”

  Her door was unlocked.

  He marched in.

  And ducked as she hurled a faded, red-leather tome at his head. He recognized it as The Book of Love. It landed with a thud in the hallway. He bent to pick it up, feeling as though every bone in his body was being stretched on a rack. After wobbling to his feet, he wiped off the little dust that had collected on the binding.

  He was surprised she’d chosen this book to fling at him. Until this moment, she’d been toting it under her arm and protecting it as though it were a sacred text. Obviously, her desire to kill him outweighed her desire to find love. “What did ye do that for?”

  He stepped into her room and shut the door behind him. “If ye scream, everyone will hear ye and come running. Then ye’ll have to marry me.”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me of marriage.”

  He smothered a grin, loving the tip of her head and tight line of her spine as she tossed him that familiar look of majestic indignation. She’d also tossed back her shoulders, which only accentuated the lush fullness of her breasts.

  “How could you tell everyone that you’d proposed to me? And I was considering your offer? Did it ever cross your mind to write to me and warn me what you’d done? Perhaps apologize for it, too? And now they think you want to marry me. Coward! You’re using me to avoid having
to accept someone else. Did you ever consider my feelings while plotting your diabolical charade?”

  Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was heaving.

  She gave a grunt of exasperation. “Stop staring at my breasts, you oaf.”

  “Can’t help it. Ye’re breathing. Heavily.”

  “I’m angry.”

  “I know, lass. Ye’re also beautiful, and my defenses are down. I can barely stand on my own two feet.” His head began to spin faster than it had been spinning before. “Bollocks.” He grabbed the bed post as the floor suddenly seemed to disappear from under him.

  “Thad!” She put her arms around him. “You’ve turned green again.”

  He was about to cast up this morning’s breakfast, and yet he couldn’t help but think how soft and wonderful she felt against him. That he was now in a position to offer her something, she’d be his countess once he inherited the Hume earldom, was nothing short of a miracle. He wasn’t going to waste this precious gift. “Och, lass. Ye smell as delicious as a raisin scone.”

  He kissed her on the neck. “Ye taste like…”

  He’d meant to tell her that she tasted like heaven, but he never got the words out. He began to topple like a great stone tower under trebuchet siege.

  He collapsed, taking her down with him.

  “Thad! You big oaf!”

  When he opened his eyes sometime later, he realized he was still in Loopy’s bedchamber, but she was no longer beside him. Or shouting in his ear as she tried to shove his dead weight off her.

  Nathaniel, Beast, and Dr. Carmichael were now hovering over him.

  He moaned. “Where am I?”

  But he knew.

  And he also knew that he was naked under the covers. Blessed saints! What had he done to Loopy?

  “Olivia and Poppy came down to fetch us after you fainted.” Nathaniel was frowning, obviously not pleased by his behavior. “You really are a big, dumb Scot. Did you not realize the four of them were in here when you burst in?”

  “Four?”

  “Penelope, Olivia, Poppy, and Poppy’s young and very impressionable sister, Violet,” Beast said with a groaning chuckle. “They heard your every word. From what I gather, you made a monumental arse of yourself.”