The Gift of Love (The Book of Love 8)

by Meara Platt

  Yes, he was definitely feverish.

  “Will you kiss me, Queen Pea?”

  She stopped him when he tried to roll his body toward her. “You fool. Yes, I’ll kiss you. Lie still and don’t move your head. I’ll come to you.” She cast him a gentle smile. “But I need to get the correct angle. It may seem a simple matter, but it is actually a rather complex set of mathematical calculations,” she said, teasing him just as he had teased her before they had shared their very first kiss.

  He laughingly groaned. “Enough. I want that kiss.”

  She eased onto the bed and carefully leaned over, trying not to touch any part of him for fear she would hurt him. But he wrapped his arms around her and drew her down atop him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. “Let me go, Ronan. I must be hurting you.”

  His entire chest had to be a raw wound.

  “Best ache I’ve ever felt,” he whispered, easing one hand around her waist and raising his other to the back of her head to draw her lips to his.

  Before she could utter another word of protest, he captured her mouth in a searing embrace, pouring so much heat into their kiss, she was certain the bed would catch fire. Yes, this is what she’d always dreamed the right kiss would feel like. Hot. Burning. Exquisite.

  Her body was already thrumming in unladylike ways.

  She wanted to crawl into bed with him and–

  He ended it quickly and fell back, gasping for air. “Ronan! You idiot. Did I hurt you?”

  “No. Kiss me again, Queen Pea.”

  She moved away. “You are a low-brained idiot. What if you do have a punctured lung? And aren’t three cracked ribs enough? You cannot support my weight atop you.”

  He grinned wickedly. “I’ll position you under me.”

  “Ronan! This is serious.”

  “My ribs are merely bruised. So’s my arse after bouncing around in the saddle on the ride back here. This is why I prefer sailing ships. No sea captain ever complained of a shredded arse.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I am going to hit you if you don’t behave.”

  “You can’t hit me. I’m going to marry you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at him for the longest time before uttering a word. “Is that a command?”

  He was smiling at her with a warmth that stole her breath away, and his eyes were seductively gleaming. “It’s a promise and a sincere wish.”

  She settled beside him again and took his hand because she loved him. How foolish she’d been not to notice what had been right in front of her all along. She’d been so caught up in lying to herself about Gerald that she’d refused to believe what her heart was telling her. But realizing she almost lost Ronan brought on clarity of thought. She wanted to be with this man forever. That diminutive little gossip, Lady Withnall, had been so right in her advice.

  But was he speaking merely due to his delirium? He was in agonizing pain, and anyone in his condition could say something he would regret having said once he’d healed.

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I love you, Queen Pea. I should have told you before I left, but it was never my intention to force words on you that you were not ready to hear. Near-death has a way of sorting out what’s important and what is not. You are the most important thing to me. I had to come back here and let you know.”

  Tears once clouded her eyes, but she hastily wiped them away. “You could have written me a letter. I would have come to you.”

  He cast her a melting smile. “I couldn’t wait that long. And what if your family did not allow it? Besides, I am better off here to defend myself when the members of the House of Lords begin their inquisition.”

  “You saved the day,” she said with a gasp, her indignation rising. “Why should they question you at all? You were in London and nowhere near the vessel when it went aground. How can they possibly blame you?”

  He tried to shrug his shoulders but had barely moved them before he winced. “Someone has to take the fall.”

  “Those fiends! There is no way I will let this happen. Nor will your family. If I have to descend upon the House of Lords with sword drawn like a vengeful Valkyrie, I shall do it. I will take exquisite pleasure in gutting Lord Peckham and his foolish brother, Viscount Hawley.”

  “Sweet mercy, you’d make a glorious shieldmaiden. But stop talking like that or I’ll pull you under me and probably puncture both lungs making mindless, low-brain love to you. Lord, you’re beautiful when you’re fiery.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell me the rest of what happened to The Invictus.”

  “Not much to tell. It ran aground. We managed to tow it back to deep waters. It is safely on its way back to Harwich, although who knows what else might happen between Tilbury and there since Viscount Hawley is still in command of the vessel. But he will be called back to London. I expect there will be a summons from Lord Liverpool waiting for him when he docks the ship at Harwich. Fortunately, there appears to be only minor damage to the hull. The seabed is mostly soft silt. We don’t believe she struck any boulders. But we’ll know more once she’s properly inspected.”

  “So, your budget is safe?”

  He cast her a pained look. “For the most part. But the navy will have to absorb the cost of this incident within that budget. The barges, the ropes, the local fishermen who had to be paid off to assist in the operation, and those who could not get out to sell their catch of the day.”

  “Too bad Peckham and his brother cannot be made to pay for it,” she muttered. But this was the way of things, noblemen promoted to positions for which they were grossly unqualified merely because they were titled or closely connected to titles. Their rise to important ranks had nothing to do with merit. No wonder the members of the House of Commons were screaming for reforms.

  “Indeed, too bad. Joshua wouldn’t let me near Viscount Hawley. He feared what might happen if I got close enough to put my hands on him. Specifically around his neck. Well, it’s done. Whatever is going to happen, will happen.” He closed his eyes, and they sat in silence for several minutes. But he hadn’t fallen asleep. Each time she tried to slip her hand out of his, he grasped it tighter and whispered, “Don’t leave me, Queen Pea.”

  As if she ever would.

  But she thought he might want a cool cloth against his head, for he did appear a little too hot. She wouldn’t touch his wounded chest, afraid to do more harm than good. In any event, her Uncle George would be here shortly to take care of the ugly gash, his bruised and perhaps broken ribs, and whatever else he had done to damage his body.

  Would her uncle be able to tell if Ronan had suffered a punctured lung as well?

  She dearly wanted to climb in bed with him and wrap her arms around him. Perhaps later, when they had more time to spend alone. Perhaps he’d raise the topic of marriage again, and they’d discuss it once he was more lucid. Although, in truth, he did seem lucid now. “I’d like to put a cold compress on your head. Will you let me fetch it?”

  He nodded. “Queen Pea, you didn’t say it back to me.”

  She knew what he meant. Don’t be a fool. Listen to Lady Withnall. “Ronan, I–”

  Robbie came back in the room, followed by her uncle. She moved away from the bed to give her uncle the space to examine him. “So, I understand you got tangled in the tow ropes,” Uncle George said, opening up his medical bag.

  “Just a little.” He opened his eyes and glanced at Dahlia.

  Robbie snorted. “A little? That is no’ the way Joshua tells it. He says Ronan would have been crushed had Joshua not grabbed a hatchet and cut the ropes. But in cutting them, Ronan could no’ hold on and plunged into the icy waters. Joshua had to dive in after him and pull him out.”

  Dahlia gasped.

  “Robbie, you talk too much.” Ronan frowned at his friend. “It wasn’t quite that bad.”

  Her uncle shook his head. “Dahlia, go downstairs for a few minutes. I have to check his ribs and lungs. He is going to howl when I do
.”

  “I want to stay, Uncle George. I can hold his hand.”

  “I also need to remove his trousers to see if he suffered more bruising that he hasn’t told anyone about. Captain Brayden, how high up were you when you fell into the water?”

  “About two stories.”

  “Dinna believe him Dr. Farthingale. Joshua says he was at least twice that high up when he fell.”

  “I’m going to check you for a possible concussion as well,” her uncle calmly remarked. “How does your spine feel? I’ll have to check it, too.”

  “Oh, dear heaven.” Dahlia was now trembling noticeably. “Ronan, if you ever do anything so foolish again, I will put my hands around your neck and throttle you. Do you hear me?”

  He grinned. “Loud and clear, Queen Pea.”

  She desperately wanted to kiss him, but how could she with an audience? “I’ll come back when your examination is over.”

  She hurried out before any of them saw how overset she was. If the ropes hadn’t crushed him, then falling from that height might have killed him. How could he be so calm about it? She walked back into the dining room where Joshua, Holly, and Heather were now seated. “Where are your men?”

  “On their way back to the barracks. I’ll join up with them later.” Joshua’s expression remained grim. “I’ll have to let Miranda and our brothers know about Ronan’s condition. I suppose my cousins will insist on hearing the details as well. But I’d like to hear your uncle’s assessment of his injuries first. I want to give my family an accurate account.”

  “Uncle George will be thorough. I left because he’s going to check Ronan from head to toe.”

  Joshua turned to Holly. “Love, do you mind if I go up and watch?”

  Holly kissed his cheek. “Do whatever you must. I’ll have Cook prepare some simple but hearty meals as I’m sure we’ll have more company today. Tynan and Finn will rush over and bring Abby and Belle with them. James and Marcus will want to stop by as well. That means Sophie and Lara will insist on coming, too. They might arrive before their husbands.”

  Dahlia listened quietly as the pair conversed.

  These Brayden men were eight in all and close in age. They were lovingly referred to as the wildebeests by their parents because these gorgeous, big men had been wild as beasts when they were younger. Much tamer now, of course. But still very much a beastly herd that would gather protectively around any one of them who happened to be injured.

  “I’ll send word to Romulus and Caleb once we have all the information,” Joshua said as he and Holly began to review what needed to be done while she followed him to the door. “They will be very upset their duties kept them out of London. But Romulus may be back within a day or two. It won’t be so easy for Caleb to leave his post in York. However, I don’t think Lord Liverpool will dare stop him from riding down here once news reaches him.”

  Holly nodded. “Do you think your mother might want to stay over?”

  “Miranda? Good heavens, no.” Joshua shook his head. “She’s a handful. Besides, there’s no room. I’m not going to kick your sisters out. Ronan won’t let me, in any case. The only person he really wants to see is Dahlia.” He turned to her with a wincing smile. “He hardly spoke the entire ride back because he was in so much pain. But the few words he did manage were all about you.”

  She nodded. “I didn’t want to leave his side. I’ll stay with him once Uncle George is through.”

  “He’ll feel better having you near. But I don’t know what he’s going to do about the budget matter. Fortunately, he’s already met with most of the committees. We’ve both lost this week, and now he might lose next week, which is when the House of Lords will vote. He’ll ignore your uncle’s directive to stay in bed. I know my brother will be stubborn about it. He’ll get to Parliament even if he has to crawl.”

  Dahlia pursed her lips, knowing everything Joshua said was accurate. “What about the Lord Admiral? Can he not take over for these next few days?”

  Joshua nodded. “I know he’ll do whatever he can. But Sir William is not in very good health himself. Robbie and I will do what we can, of course. But we aren’t Royal Navy, and our own superiors will frown on our lending too much help. We have our own budgets to worry about. I’ll probably receive a blistering set down for riding off with my regiment to Tilbury. But I could not assign the matter to anyone else. Who would protect my little brother better than me?”

  Dahlia managed a chuckle. “Little? He’s big as an ox. Even bigger than you, Joshua.”

  “Big pain in my arse, too. Stubborn oaf.”

  Holly rolled her eyes and gave an impudent cough. “And you’re not?”

  “No, love. I’m perfect. You tell me so often enough. Especially at night, when in my arms, right after I–”

  “Joshua! My sisters!” But now that Joshua was home safe, Holly seemed much more composed. She shot him a warning scowl, and then faced them all with an expression of determination that commanded everyone’s attention. “Let’s get down to important business. There’s also been rumblings in the gossip rags about who is going to be blamed for this blunder. Ronan’s name was mentioned.”

  She pointedly eyed her sisters. “You tossed the paper into the fire, but burning that trash will not erase the fact that someone is already working to pin the blame on Ronan.”

  Joshua appeared stunned. “You must be jesting. He almost lost his life saving that vessel.”

  Holly pursed her lips. “I wish I were. We cannot ignore this news item, even if it is obvious nonsense. The Braydens are a powerful family, and several hold important titles. But we Farthingales also have our connections.”

  “Indeed, we do. And I won’t hesitate to call on them to help Ronan.” Dahlia’s thoughts were already on the same path as her sister’s. “He is not going to take the fall for this blunder.”

  Heather chimed in, too. “Knowing our cousins, they are going to insist on helping whether asked to or not. And Robbie is the grandson of an earl. Scottish,” she said with a shrug, “but an earl nonetheless. Not to mention that Poppy is married to the Earl of Welles, and Honey is married to the Earl of Wycke.”

  Joshua groaned. “Enough with the Farthingale marriage connections. I am vastly impressed. But we don’t need the Earl of Caithness or you meddlesome Farthingales stepping in and starting an insurrection.”

  Holly curled her hands into fists. “We will fight for your brother if we have to. Don’t ask us to sit idly by and watch him get battered any worse than he already is because all those lords who are to blame for putting Hawley -that incompetent - in command in the first place are looking to save their hides and offer up your brother as the scapegoat.”

  Joshua held up a hand. “Sweetheart, I think you are getting a little ahead of yourself. Yes, we will flex some Brayden muscle to make sure the right men are called to account. And yes, it is good to have the Farthingales on alert if more is needed. But Ronan is well respected. He’ll also be mad as hell if we interfere before he’s had a chance to deal with the matter on his own.”

  Dahlia was still worried. “How can he help himself when he is hardly able to move out of bed?”

  Joshua sighed. “We are Miranda’s sons. I did not even bring her into the equation, but rest assured, that woman will personally light a torch under any of those pompous arses who dare falsely accuse her baby boy. Indeed, I think we can all sit back and watch the spectacle unfold while safely perched in the House of Lords spectator’s gallery.”

  Despite their concerns, Dahlia and her sisters could not help but laugh. “Hooray for Miranda,” Dahlia said, and her sisters cheered.

  “Indeed,” Joshua said with a roll of his eyes. “And now I really need to go upstairs and see what is going on with my brother.”

  But their lively moment came to an abrupt halt as their Uncle George suddenly walked in, almost bumping into Joshua on his way up. He looked as though someone had just died.

  “No,” Dahlia said in an agonized whisper, putting
a hand to her heart that was now beating with unrestrained frenzy. “Uncle George?”

  Her uncle said nothing for a long moment.

  Dahlia was sure her heart was about to burst. “What’s wrong? How badly is Ronan hurt?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Dahlia’s uncle cleared his throat. “I haven’t completed my examination yet. But he is insisting his Queen Pea stay by his side. I cannot claim to approve of his behavior, Dahlia. But he is going to do serious damage to himself if he attempts to get out of bed.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “So come back up with me, at least until I’ve finished looking him over. The good news is that he has no punctured lungs. Nor any broken bones along his spine, which was my greatest worry the moment I heard the height from which he’d plunged into the water. Incredibly, I don’t believe he’s sustained so much as a hairline fracture.”

  Dahlia let out a breath. “Thank goodness.”

  “But he may have suffered a mild concussion along with those three damaged ribs. They’re badly bruised, not broken. But they’re still fragile and might break if he doesn’t take care of himself. For now, there is not much to do other than keep him resting so that his rib cage can heal on its own. This means he cannot run around. He has to stay in bed and let his body recover. His brain must also heal. This is probably most important. These concussions are insidious things if not properly tended. He may think he’s all right, but years later, he will begin to feel the effects. Headaches. Dizziness. Loss of memory.”

  Dahlia’s hand was once more at her heart. “I’ll do my best to keep him at rest.”

  She hurried upstairs, leaving her uncle while he took another moment to speak to her sisters.

  In truth, she did not wish to be anywhere but by Ronan’s side.

  Robbie breathed a sigh of relief when she walked in. “Och, he’s a pain in the arse. He even riled yer uncle, and I dinna think the great George Farthingale could ever be ruffled. But ye’d better keep yer eyes closed. And do no’ think to lift the sheet to look at his injuries. He is no’ dressed. Not a stitch on him.”