The Taste of Love

by Platt, Meara

  Her chin tipped up and she gave a huff. “It’s my bedchamber. Why shouldn’t I be in front of it?”

  “I don’t care that you’re in front of it.” His frown deepened. “I don’t want you inside with my laudanum-crazed friend, who’s probably still naked in your bed.”

  “That’s his problem, not mine. Besides, I’ve already seen him naked. Of course, I was an innocent child at the time, and you, Thad, and Beast were rowdy university boys swimming in nothing but your nature suits in the pond.”

  “That was almost a decade ago. You stole our clothes. I haven’t forgotten.” He eyed her warily. “You haven’t seen him naked since then, have you?”

  “Of course not. If you’re going to be so prim about it, then you ought to have given him one of your nightshirts to wear.” She turned the latch. “Thad, you’d better cover your hairy—”

  “Gad, it’s barely past dawn and you’re already giving me headaches.” Nathaniel placed his hand over hers. “If you go in there, you’re coming out betrothed to Thad.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t intend to climb into bed with him. I just need to fetch a ribbon for my hair.”

  “I’ll see if Poppy has one to spare. I’m sure she has a dozen.”

  “Hah! Shows what you know about your wife. Poppy doesn’t wear ribbons in her hair. She tucks it up with clips and pins which you’d know if you were thinking about anything other than running your hot, little fingers through her unbound hair and… I can’t mention the rest. It’s too lewd.”

  Nathaniel threw up his hands and grunted in dismay. “Fine, go in. But if you do, you’re marrying him. Double wedding. Malcolm and Anne. You and Thad.”

  “Hah!”

  “Wycke and I will be right behind you, toting rifles pointed at those big Scots…and sacks of ammunition, although I doubt either of them will need much convincing. Not with loaded weapons aimed at their heads.”

  She was spared the need of a response when Thad suddenly opened the door. He was washed and fully dressed, obviously having had assistance. His arm was resting in a sling and he appeared to be in pain still, for lines of strain were etched into his handsome face.

  His eyes had a sleepy tilt to them.

  They were dark and hooded and steamy.

  Those wicked little butterflies in Penelope’s stomach began to rouse and flutter yet again.

  “Greville helped me,” Thad explained, noting her gaping mouth and grinning in response to her look of confusion. “Thank ye for sending him to me, Nathaniel.” He tucked a finger under her chin to close her mouth. “I’m feeling much better this morning. I’ll be off to meet my regiment right after breakfast and bring them here. We’ll camp along the stream behind Gosling Hall. I’ll be out of yer bedchamber within the hour, Loopy. Sorry about…falling on ye…and the rest of it.”

  She sighed. “Stay as long as you need. Periwinkle and I have become quite cozy. He’s sniffed me thoroughly.”

  Thad assumed this meant he had permission to sniff her, too. “Och, always delicious. Ye smell like a–”

  “Don’t you dare say it, you lout!”

  “–sausage patty.”

  She wanted to strike him, but she wasn’t that cruel. He was too badly injured and even the lightest touch would have brought him to his knees, writhing in pain.

  Nathaniel groaned and turned to walk off. “I’ll see you both downstairs.” But before he strode off, he mouthed the word ‘marry’ as though threatening her with a betrothal to Thad if she didn’t behave.

  She and Thad never behaved around each other.

  Why was this a surprise to her brother?

  Her gaze mellowed as she returned her attention to Thad. He had been injured saving her life and she would never forget his bravery.

  She blushed under the force of his stare.

  She stared back at him. Oh, he was big and magnificent. And he’d dressed in typical Thad fashion, which meant completely out of fashion. Once again, he’d neglected to don his vest, cravat, and jacket, so all she could see was the vast expanse of his elegant, white lawn shirt that hugged his rock-hard arms and broad chest.

  But she also noticed a bit of red leather peeking out from the sling used to hold his arm in place, and realized he’d taken The Book of Love for himself.

  “Is there a reason ye were standing outside my door?” he asked.

  “It’s my door.”

  He grinned at her. “Verra well, lass. Is there a reason–”

  “Ribbon.” She glanced down at herself. “I needed a sunflower yellow one to match my gown.” The fabric itself was a plain white dimity but trimmed in yellow silk at the edge of the sleeves and had a belt of matching yellow silk that circled her body just beneath her bosom. “Is there a reason you’re stealing that book from me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m reading it, lass. I won’t ride off with it, if that’s what concerns ye. What the author has to say is quite interesting. I read much of it last night.”

  “Oh, really? About the male lower brain and higher brain? Or did you not get beyond the lower brain function? Is this why you keep staring at my chest? Stop looking there. I’d appreciate it if you looked at my face. My body is no concern of yours. I refuse to be regarded as the fertile vessel into which to spill your seed.”

  “Don’t talk about yerself like that, Loopy. Ye know ye’re not that to me.” He glanced at the book, then withdrew it and handed it to her. “Ye ought to be the one reading it. Then ye might understand what you mean to me.”

  She took it grudgingly. “Oh, is that so? Then pray tell me, what am I to you?”

  “Everything,” he said quietly.

  She opened her mouth to toss back an indignant retort, but could find no words. She stood before him like a fool, her lungs filling with air. An eternity passed between them. Finally, she found her voice. “What did you just say?”

  “Ye heard me, lass.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thad, do you mean it?”

  “I’m looking at all of ye. Don’t expect me to pretend I’m not lusting after yer glorious body. But it’s yer heart I’m truly after.” He took a step closer. “I may have gone about it badly.”

  “You think so?”

  It was impossible to overlook her sarcasm. “Fine, I went about it all wrong. But I never considered proposing to anyone else.”

  “Thad,” she said with an ache to her voice. “You haven’t proposed to me.”

  Lying to his kinsmen about their betrothal was not the same as declaring himself to her.

  He appeared startled, but then he nodded. “I’ll tell ye now.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Tell me? You think you’re going to tell me what to do?”

  “Blessed saints! Can ye for once not twist my words? I’m trying to ask ye to marry me.”

  “While we’re standing in the hallway?”

  “Is this not romantic enough for ye? Well, that’s too bad, lass. I may now be in line to inherit an earldom, but I’m still me. I won’t be donning silk breeches or powdered wigs. I won’t be reciting sonnets to yer beauty. Nor will I be asking ye again. Ye have my offer. Mull it over. When ye’re ready, give me an answer. But don’t take too long, for Caithness and Hume are not patient men. Nor is Castlereagh.” He started to walk away, then turned back. “Nor am I.”

  He stalked down the hall.

  She wanted to call him back, but her pride would not allow it. “You big, dumb Scot,” she muttered under her breath, entering her bedchamber to retrieve the ribbon that seemed inconsequential now. “I will not marry you to save your cowardly hide. I never want to see you again, Thaddius MacLauren.”

  She withdrew the ribbon from the drawer in her vanity, then peered in the mirror while she wound it neatly through her chignon. “Looks ridiculous.” She removed the clips and ribbon, hastily running her fingers through her curls as they tumbled around her shoulders and down her back.

  She was about to start again when she sensed someone stand
ing at her door.

  Thad was back, filling the doorway with his broad shoulders.

  He was frowning.

  Was he taking back his proposal?

  “I’m still in pain, Loopy. I had a wretched night’s sleep. Will you forgive me for behaving like an arse just now?”

  She sighed. “If you forgive me. I also spent an uncomfortable night. Periwinkle was…” She shook her head and laughed. “I’m never sleeping with that pampered dog again. Thad, you shouldn’t be riding out this morning if you’re still in pain. It can’t be good for your shoulder.”

  “I’ll be all right.” He cast her an endearingly boyish grin. “Ye look beautiful, lass. I would recite sonnets to yer beauty, if I knew any. Ye should leave yer hair like that. But I didn’t return to talk about yer hair or ribbons or poems.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  “Because of something I neglected to do yesterday.” He strode forward and drew her into his embrace using his good arm. “This.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers, taking advantage that her lips were parted in surprise to gain entrance and give her a highly improper kiss that was unexpectedly gentle, and at the same time, typically impudent. For this was Thad, always filled with Scottish arrogance and unspoken challenge, and yet divinely tender and heartfelt.

  She leaned into his big, solidly muscled body, absorbing his heat and strength. He was tall, and the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. They shouldn’t have fit so perfectly together, but they did. His kiss was possessive, and yet it did not feel as though he was merely claiming her, but offering a piece of himself in return. In this moment, she wanted all of him.

  She could have him, too.

  All she needed to do was to accept his marriage proposal, but that would mean turning her heart over to him and trusting that he would never break it.

  He held such power over her, it frightened her.

  She carefully slid her arm up his chest, her palm tingling beneath the corded tension of his body. Heaven help me, he feels so good.

  He teased his tongue along her lower lip, and then slid it between her lips in a slow and sensual mating dance with her tongue.

  Oh, yes.

  The big Scot knew how to kiss her proper.

  Her eyes had closed the moment their mouths touched, allowing her to run through each sensation she’d read in The Book of Love. His touch, fiery. The taste of him, hot and delicious.

  She moaned against his mouth.

  “Loopy, I dinna want to let ye go.” Oh, the rugged sweetness of his deep, rumbling brogue.

  She kissed the freshly shaven line of his jaw, inhaling his scent of lather and musk.

  She drew back as he loosened his grip on her body and her eyes flitted open. She gasped, for what she saw in Thad’s eyes was raw, savage desire.

  He dropped his hand to his side, and then turned away. “Wait for me, lass. We’ll talk when I return.”

  He strode off.

  He’d return later in the day with his regiment.

  She wanted to follow him out, but couldn’t. Her entire body was limp and her legs felt buttery. Her hands shook and her heart beat so fast, she feared to swoon. The notion was ridiculous. Swoon over Thad?

  Lord Wycke had proposed to her as well. She’d put him off, promising him an answer by tomorrow evening.

  She had a choice to make. Would she choose the amiable earl who offered her security and a comfortable home close to her family and friends in the Cotswolds? Or the impossibly provoking Highlander who might someday be an earl and would expect her to live with him in Scotland?

  What was she going to do?

  Chapter Eleven

  Thad was in monumental pain by the time he, Malcolm, and Robbie returned to Wellesford in the afternoon with their regiment. Nathaniel and Beast rode out to greet them and help them settle their men in the field behind Gosling Hall.

  Hume and Caithness were not far behind.

  Despite having to prepare for another elegant party this evening, Poppy and Penelope, and an army of Sherbourne servants carting food, ale, and other supplies, soon followed. Goose was beside them with her own servants from Gosling Hall, bringing down more food and useful wares.

  Thad felt everyone’s gaze on him, their prying eyes following his every movement with concern. However, he refused to show weakness or admit he was in agony.

  He groaned inwardly as Penelope approached, looking ready to drag him by the ear to Sherbourne Manor and toss him into bed. Not with her, of course. Alone. Because he was injured and had overdone it. “Bollocks, lass. Don’t tell me what I should or should not be doing. These are my men.”

  “I see. So you feel it is important to make a fool of yourself in front of them when you faint.”

  He grumbled. “Men don’t faint.”

  To his relief, she rolled her eyes and laughed. “You are the stubbornest man who ever lived. When you collapse in your manly fashion, I shall merely stand by and watch you topple. Indeed, I think I will sell tickets for the event and take wagers on when it will happen.”

  “Lass, ye’re cruel.” But he grinned at her, for she looked soft and sweet, and she was right. He was not steady on his feet and his shoulder was throbbing.

  “There’s a tray of scones and a pot of tea waiting for us under the shade tree by the stream. Surely, your men won’t mind if you spend a few minutes with the sister of one of your hosts. Indeed, they would believe you to be quite rude if you refused my request.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Ye’re manipulating me.”

  “Yes, but in a nice way. Oh, Thad, please. I’m so worried about you. How could you not have felt a jolt through your bones with every stride your horse took? That has to be wearing on your body. Even if you are a big ox.”

  “Ah, there’s the Loopy I know and…” He was going to say ‘love’ but stopped himself. He wasn’t certain how she felt about him. Yes, she cared for him. How much?

  Fortunately, she did not give him grief about his comment. “Sit down. Look, even your men are taking a moment to relax and eat. You aren’t the only one in need of a little respite.”

  She was right. It wouldn’t do him any harm. The tents had now been set up and the horses tended to, so sitting down to a hearty meal was decidedly in order. Poppy and Goose, with several of their servants, were helping those too injured to manage on their own.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a few of the men preparing to strip out of their uniforms and jump in the stream. “I’ll sit with ye, lass. But ye’d better look this way.”

  “Why?” she asked and turned to follow his gaze. “Oh!”

  A blush ran up her cheeks, and she began to fuss with the teapot, trying to pour him a cup, but her hands were shaking. A little of it spilled onto the tray. “You might have explained why I should not look and spared me the sight of…”

  He chuckled. “Ye’ve seen naked men before. Ye’ve seen me, for certain. Blink all ye want, lass. Ye canno’ get rid of the memory by washing it out of yer eyes like a stray eyelash.”

  “Oh, Thad. Don’t tease me. I was so worried about you.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “I know. I appreciate it more than I can say. But I’m still a stubborn arse. These are my men. I canno’ leave them before I see them all safely returned home.”

  “I know it’s important to you. But you won’t last through the journey if you push yourself too hard now. Walk me back to the house. Rest a few hours before our party. No one will notice your absence. Even if they do, they’ll see you’ve walked off with me. Let them imagine whatever they wish.” She made no move to draw her hand away, so he continued to hold it. “Please, Thad. Do it for me.”

  “Verra well. For ye, Loopy.” He glanced at the tray. “Are those raisin scones?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “Och, lass. Thank ye. Do ye mind if we eat before I walk ye back to the house?”

  She bestowed him with a brilliant smile. “I’d never deprive you o
f your favorite treat.”

  In truth, she was his treat. Every moment he spent with Penelope felt like a slice of heaven. The sun was shining. A soft breeze wafted through the trees and ruffled her auburn hair.

  The scones were delicious and so was her smile. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but her smile faded into a frown at the very moment he mustered the resolve. “What’s the matter?”

  She sighed. “Thad, I’m so puzzled.”

  “About what?” He set down his cup of tea, prepared to listen.

  “Malcolm and Anne. How have they made the strong connections necessary for a lasting love?”

  He shook his head and sighed. “Och, lass. The Book of Love is not gospel. It canno’ cover every reason why a couple might decide they suit. And who’s to say that the passionate feelings Malcolm and Anne have for each other will last? They’ve leaped into their decision. I hope it will prove to be a happy one, but it’s far from certain.”

  “So do I. It seems right that love should win out. I hope it will work for them. Anne is a lovely girl. But what an odd pairing they are.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Aye, but also sensible in many ways. Malcolm’s been given the order as well. Find a Sassenach wife. He’s been raised to be Caithness’s successor and takes his responsibility very seriously. So his brain has already adjusted to his sense of duty. He’s been around women, perhaps not in a while since we were all off fighting Napoleon, but he is no young fool. He knows the sort of woman he wants.”

  “But he barely knows Anne.”

  He shrugged. “She’s young and pretty. She’s an earl’s sister. Unmarried. She fits most of the requirements on his list.”

  “Love isn’t about making lists.” She began to nibble her lip. “Shouldn’t it be something more?”

  “For certain. But we aren’t all given the time we need to make a proper decision. My cousin is a good man. He won’t be easily led astray by a pretty smile, or other parts of a woman’s body, for that matter. But if I know Malcolm, he saw much more in Anne than…a healthy chest.” He cleared his throat, for it had suddenly turned taut and ragged. “He saw acceptance in her eyes when she looked at him. He saw admiration and wonder, as well. To her, he wasn’t a mere title to be claimed. He wasn’t a big Scottish oaf to be used to gain stature. He was handsome in her eyes. He was clever and valiant in her eyes.”