The Gift of Love (The Book of Love 8)

by Meara Platt

  She shook her head and sighed. “Oh, Ronan. If only there were more men like you.”

  “There are, Dahlia. Most are decent. You have only to look at the men in your family and mine to know good men exist.”

  “What else does this book say?” She leaned over and read the next few lines aloud. “Love is a higher function of the brain. The important function that makes a man feel the need to protect his family. Wife and offspring. Otherwise, he’d merely spill his seed and then move on, leaving them to be eaten by wolves.”

  She looked at him and laughed. “The author wrote this just for you. I’ve never met any man more ridiculously protective than you. Well, perhaps your brothers and cousins. But you aren’t smothering or unbearably jealous. Your natural instinct is to step in and shield those weaker than you whenever you sense danger. Your wife will be a very lucky woman. I know you will make her an excellent husband. I hope she appreciates you.”

  Ronan said nothing, just read on. “The author explained the man’s low brain, that unthinking organ designed purely for the task of mating. But his high brain is what enables him to select the right mate for a lifetime. He was given a higher brain to enable him to love. That ability to love is why he stays loyal to his wife and offspring, in turn enhancing their chances of survival. However, before he reaches that upper function of intelligence, the man must first be attracted to the female on the simple brain level.”

  He set the book aside a moment. “So we have gone in a circle. Low brain to high brain and back to the low brain again. I think this is a good point to pause and consider what we’ve learned so far.”

  She groaned. “Are you going to test me on this?”

  “In a way. I think we should discuss what traits we find attractive in each other.”

  “Well, that’s easy enough. I can list a dozen of your attractive qualities off the top of my head. I’m the problem, aren’t I? What traits do I possess that would interest any man?”

  “Stop beating yourself up, Dahlia. You are jesting, aren’t you? I can assure you, I will have no problem listing a dozen of your fine qualities.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You do not need to be gentle with me, Ronan. I’ll learn nothing if you shield me from the truth.”

  “I am not shielding you. Nor am I one to cajole or flatter. So, go ahead and list my attributes. Then I will have my turn and list yours. All right?”

  “All right.” She took a long moment to study him. “You are handsome. You are intelligent. You are brave. You are protective. You are strong. You are patient, especially with me. Honestly, I don’t know why you’ve appointed yourself as my guardian angel, but I do appreciate it, especially after the incident. You are an excellent guardian angel. I’m glad you punched Gerald’s face. Does that count as a fine quality? I think it should.”

  He nodded. “If you want it to count, then it counts.”

  She shook her head and cast him a genuinely warm smile. “I like your rules. Let’s see, where was I? You have beautiful eyes. And a beautiful smile. And a beautiful face. Well, a handsome face. But it’s beautiful, too. Have I said handsome twice? I think I said it at the beginning. How many is that?”

  “Ten, I think.”

  “Very well, two more, and then it shall be your turn. You are a natural leader. You are noble. How’s that? I will forgive you if you cannot come up with twelve for me.”

  “It won’t be hard. First, you have beautiful eyes. A beautiful body. Beautiful lips. I enjoyed kissing them.”

  She gasped. “You did?”

  “Yes, very much. Beautiful hair. Beautiful breasts. Don’t hit me, we have to be completely honest here.”

  “Ronan!”

  “Well, it is important to me. To any man. Isn’t this what we’ve just spent the last half hour talking about? My low brain responds favorably to your face and body. Why are you so surprised?”

  “Gerald–”

  “Bloody hell. Not him again. I don’t give a rat’s arse what Wainscott thinks. He cares only for himself. You and Lady Alexandra are mere pawns to him. Shall I go on with my list? You are smart. You have a good sense of humor. You are gentle. You are creative. You are talented.”

  “Two more to go.”

  “Easy. You are tenderhearted. You are an independent thinker. I’m not nearly done, but I’ve reached my twelve. Shall we move on to the next chapter?”

  She nodded. “Thank you, Ronan. I appreciate what you said about my qualities.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “It’s all true, Dahlia.”

  She said nothing for a long moment, then her eyes began to tear up.

  Bollocks. “Why are you crying?”

  She emitted a ragged breath. “I don’t know...well...yes, I do. Gerald made me feel like rubbish beneath his boots. But you make me feel quite wonderful and special.”

  “Because you are, Dahlia.” His hand was still on hers, so he gave it a little squeeze. “You are going to accomplish great things, I can see it in you. That rat-bastard, on the other hand, is going to live a miserable, unworthy life, detested by all, and he’ll probably die of the pox. Which will still be too gentle a punishment for him.”

  Despite her tears, she laughed. “So, you still like him then?”

  He chuckled. “As much as I ever did.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ronan returned home in the afternoon, curious whether his mother had spoken to her friend. He was satisfied with his progress on reading the book with Dahlia and was more certain than ever that he’d made the right decision by insisting they read it together. She was like a little bird, still learning how to fly and needing his help to soar. All she lacked was confidence in herself. For this reason, she dared not fly on her own for fear of suddenly plummeting.

  They had arranged to meet tomorrow at Violet’s. He was to stop by there after work. Even though he’d just left Dahlia, he was already impatient to see her again.

  “Ronan, I’m glad you are home early. Do you have a moment to ride over to Lady Wellbrook’s? She is quite excited about the prospect of your purchasing her house and most eager to see you. She has invited us to call on her at three o’clock today.”

  He smiled. “Perfect. But I cannot stay long. I’m required to attend Lord Liverpool’s banquet this evening. I dare not arrive late.”

  “Of course. It’s almost three now. I’ll have my carriage brought around immediately.”

  Lady Wellbrook lived close by. Were it not for the snow on the ground, he would have suggested they walk. But he could not ask his mother to do so, especially not when she had dressed elegantly for the occasion. Her shoes were utterly impractical for walking in snow. He climbed in her carriage and settled across from her to make the trip that would take them less than five minutes, even if the roads were jammed with carts and carriages.

  When they arrived, they were shown in by Lady Wellbrook’s butler, a doddering and slightly deaf, old fellow who would likely be pensioned off by her as soon as she sold her home.

  After the required greetings, they attended to the matter of touring the house. “I know how impatient young men are, so I thought I’d show you about first, and then we can sit down to tea. You may ask me any questions after the tour. How does that sound to you, Captain Brayden?”

  “A very good plan, Lady Wellbrook.”

  As they walked through the rooms, Ronan took note of their size. He counted the number of bedchambers, considered the size of the garden, the condition of roof, and construction of the house. He did not know what else he ought to be looking for.

  To him, the house appeared to be exactly what he needed.

  In truth, he’d known this was the house for him before he’d ever stepped foot in it. The location was prime, on one of the loveliest squares in London. The other homes were well maintained, the street itself was quiet and yet convenient to everything.

  Upon completion of the tour, he sat down to tea with Lady Wellbrook and his mother. He asked general questions about her memories and en
joyed learning of her time spent living here. He did not ask about roofs or foundations or load-bearing crossbeams, for he doubted the kindly dowager would know anything about those items.

  He would engage an architect for that purpose and intended to ask Finn to help him out on the purchase. He and Lady Wellbrook’s man of affairs would handle matters to see the sale accomplished.

  Pleased with the results, he left the two ladies soon afterward and walked home to wash and dress for this evening’s banquet. His thoughts were still on Dahlia, looking forward to the day he could bring her around to see the house that would soon be his.

  Gad! It felt so strange to be thinking of such matters.

  A week ago, he’d been quite comfortable with his bachelorhood and not intending to settle down. Marriage had not been on his mind.

  However, he’d always felt something for Dahlia. The kiss they’d shared had merely stirred the desire quietly simmering in his heart from the moment he’d set eyes on her. He had tamped down the feeling, warning himself to forget her because she was meant for Wainscott.

  If he had realized how badly the bounder was about to hurt her, he would have come forward.

  But he hadn’t, and now he ached for seeing her so badly hurt.

  Joshua and Robbie were already in the Parliament banquet hall, each of them involved in conversations with the various lords who still needed to be swayed in their favor when their particular appropriations came up for a vote.

  Ronan merely nodded to them, not wanting to interrupt their important discussions.

  Instead, he joined the Lord Admiral, who was engaged in conversation with several prominent lords regarding the needs of the Royal Navy. Among them was Lady Melinda’s father, the Duke of Stoke.

  Ronan briefly wondered whether Lady Melinda had managed to lure her marquess into making her an offer of marriage. However, he was not going to ask her father. The gossip rags would report it soon enough. Nor did he want Stoke believing he had any interest in his daughter. The man had already made it clear he wanted his daughter to marry a marquess or better, that a mere captain in the Royal Navy would never do.

  Ronan was worried.

  These rumors recently being reported about him escorting Lady Melinda around town were going to destroy a full year’s hard work if the duke actually believed them. The navy needed his support on their appropriations.

  The Lord Admiral turned to him. “Captain Brayden, you’ve done most of the work on these matters. Why don’t you give us your opinion?”

  “Yes, of course.” He momentarily set aside all thoughts of Dahlia, the book, the house search, and the gossip connecting him to the duke’s impulsive daughter. “My lords, as our reach expands throughout the world, it is imperative that we have enough ships to protect our holdings and our trade routes wherever they may extend. You are aware that our merchant vessels are often at the mercy of pirates, some of whom command fleets as powerful as those of small countries.”

  One of the lords nodded. “I have holdings in Jamaica. I can attest to this scourge.”

  Ronan agreed. “They operate almost everywhere without restraint, their power spanning from the South China Sea to the Tasman Sea. Throughout the Indian Ocean from the eastern coast of Africa to Ceylon. Across the Caribbean. But let us not forget we must deal with our usual enemies, the other European powers who seek to dominate those trade routes and lay claim to vast territories in order to establish their governmental rule. The Dutch have maintained a formidable presence in the South China Sea for centuries. The Spanish along the Americas.”

  “The European nations will next be vying for the mineral riches in Africa, India, and China,” the Lord Admiral interjected.

  “For this reason,” Ronan said, “we must maintain the most powerful naval force in the world. Our enemies need to know we will obliterate their fleets if they step out of line. History has taught us this. One of our strongest and best strategies is to blockade enemy ports and destroy their fleets. They cannot attack us if they can’t get out.”

  His remarks and those of the Lord Admiral were met with enthusiastic approval.

  “You see, gentlemen. This is why I have complete faith in Captain Brayden. Do go on with the rest of it,” the Lord Admiral urged.

  “We need funds for research. Do not leave us with old vessels and outdated cannons. We need fast ships, longer-range cannons, and reinforced hulls. Sleeker ships to allow us entry into the shallow harbors. We also need to invest in these new, steam-powered vessels. We are also conducting some experiments on other ship designs that could change how we fight the next wars. Give us the funds, and we’ll have those ships built.”

  He imagined Joshua and Robbie were explaining much the same thing with respect to their land forces. As everyone sat down to supper, the three of them found themselves together at the far end of the table. Since none of them were lords, they were as low as one could be in the order of preference, merely one step removed from the clerks who were shuttling in and out, delivering messages to Lord Liverpool and those in his high circle.

  They were perhaps two steps removed from the servants who were bringing in their sumptuous meal on gleaming silver trays.

  “Did ye have the chance to visit Dahlia today?” Robbie asked as they finished their soup course, a white soup made from veal stock, and waited for the next courses to be brought out.

  He nodded. “We read a little of the book together. I’ll meet her again tomorrow. I’d like to get through as much of it as I can before the week is out. Romulus returns soon, and I don’t think he’ll appreciate having others around when his time with Violet is so short.”

  Joshua joined in the conversation. “Perhaps by then, Dahlia will feel better about coming over to our home. Holly will gladly help out in any way she can.”

  Ronan nodded. “I appreciate it. I think that will work out.”

  Robbie waited for one of the footmen to refill his glass of wine before responding. “Have ye done anything with yer house search? Does Lady Miranda know ye mean to move out?”

  “Yes, I told her last night. To my surprise, she’s been most helpful.”

  Joshua laughed. “You mean she actually wants you out?”

  “No, she did her abandoned mother act. Tears, the vapors, wailing, and moaning. But she has a friend who lives close by and happened to mention she wants to sell her London home. I went to see it this afternoon. I think it’s perfect. Good bones. Great location. A little run down and in need of Dahlia’s touch. Couldn’t ask for anything better.”

  Robbie arched an eyebrow. “Impressive.”

  Joshua raised his glass in toast. “Here’s to success on your mission.”

  “Cheers.” Ronan drained his glass that had also been refilled.

  The evening ended late, but he was pleased with all he had accomplished. He stripped out of his clothes, handed them to Harrigan to be freshened, and fell into bed. His last thought before sleep overcame him was to wonder what tomorrow would bring.

  Unfortunately, it brought an angry summons from the Lord Admiral to meet him at the Admiralty that morning. Ronan had just settled in his office in the Parliament building when a messenger arrived with the urgent note. “Bollocks, what now?” he muttered, waving to Joshua and Robbie, who were just walking in as he hurried off.

  The Lord Admiral had one of the local gossip rags open on his desk when Ronan arrived. “Brayden,” he said, his face red as he motioned to the paper, “what the hell is this?”

  “With all due respect, my lord. What are you talking about?”

  “You and Lady Melinda? Stoke’s daughter. I thought your affair was over and done. You were seen at the theater with her last night.”

  “The theater?” Ronan groaned inwardly. “If you will recall, I was with you and His Grace all evening. I went straight home afterward. Although we have made great scientific advances, I do not think we have advanced far enough to allow me to be in two places at once.”

  “Don’t take that smart tone
with me, Brayden. This is serious. If Stoke withdraws his support, we’ll lose our funding. You have to end this with his daughter.”

  “Happily, sir. But how am I to end something that does not exist? She and I were never having an affair. I am not courting his daughter. I am not interested in courting his daughter. I never was. However, I suspect she is the one sending this misinformation to the papers.”

  “Why would she do this?”

  “To make a certain marquess jealous and get an offer of marriage out of him. I am being used as her pawn for this purpose. Over my strenuous objections, I might add. Lady Melinda does not particularly care. His Grace must realize what his daughter is doing. I can ask her to stop, but I doubt she will listen to me since she never has before. It seems more prudent for me to avoid all contact with her. If I’m seen talking to her, even if it is merely for the purpose of asking her to stop, the gossips will report it.”

  The Lord Admiral put his hands to his temples and groaned. “I believe you, Brayden. But I don’t know that Stoke will. Oh, he might be persuaded that this theater nonsense was a mistake, but what if it happens again and you are not in his company? Unless his daughter confesses to him what she is doing, we are sunk.”

  “I can seek an audience with the Duke of Stoke. Explain to him what is going on with his daughter, assuming he isn’t already aware.”

  “You know how stubborn that old goat can be. He won’t see you. He’ll think you are requesting to see him in order to offer for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Even if she has told him what she’s doing, he will still wonder why she’s chosen you in particular and worry that something more is going on behind his back. No, I have a better idea.”

  Ronan’s stomach twisted in a knot. “I’m certain a talk with the duke will be all that is required.”

  “Did you not hear what I just said? As long as your name is involved, the duke will suspect you...unless...”

  The knot tightened in his stomach. “Unless what, my lord?”