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The Gift of Love (The Book of Love 8)

Page 23

by Meara Platt


  Well, the big Scott was about to get a dose of love once he got his hands on The Book of Love.

  Ronan wasn’t sure the book would work on Robbie the way it had on the other men who had fallen prey to its supposed power. In truth, he did not believe the book could make any man fall in love. At best, it helped that reluctant male understand what he was already feeling toward the one woman who would capture his heart.

  But Robbie?

  If he wanted to raise his prospects, marry into a family of rank and consequence, then Heather was not the girl for him. Nor would Robbie suit Heather’s purposes, not if she wanted a peer of the realm.

  He dismissed thoughts of them and the book, and returned his attention to the budget vote, thumping Robbie on the back when his funding also passed. As soon as the session was adjourned, the three of them headed to the spectator gallery. Ronan knew his next action would be frowned upon, but he was newly wed and in love with his wife. Surely, no one would complain when he cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her on the lips

  To his surprise, a sketch of him doing this began circulating in the newspapers by the afternoon. Several papers had put out a special edition on the ‘hero of Tilbury’ as he was now known. He should have been angry they’d included a sketch of their kiss, but it was his fault for the display of affection. The artists present had captured the moment beautifully and with all due respect.

  Dahlia was smiling and sighing over it, as were all the women in the family. He supposed it was all right then. But he silently chided himself and vowed to leave these displays for the bedchamber from now on.

  They had only been back at Joshua’s home for about an hour when Finn came by. “Congratulations to both of you. I heard the army and navy budgets passed unscathed. I have something for you, Ronan.”

  He held out some papers and several sets of keys. “The house is yours. Lady Wellbrook has moved out and is on her way to Bath as we speak. Her furniture is loaded in wagons and will eventually reach her new home, although it will be rough going in this weather. Will you see the house today or wait until tomorrow?”

  Dahlia’s eyes widened in delight. “What do you think, Ronan? It isn’t very far from here.”

  He chuckled. “Since I doubt I can hold you back, sure. Why not?”

  Joshua nodded. “My coachman will have the carriage readied again.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Dahlia said. “Would you like to join us in touring the house? And you, Finn? We cannot thank you enough for taking care of this matter.”

  “I’ll pass,” Finn said. “Belle will expect me home soon. We’ll stop by one day next week. I’m sure you’ll be there every day to oversee its decoration.”

  Holly and Joshua also declined as well. “You should walk through it just the two of you. Besides, Heather will be back soon. She went to Lady Dayne’s tea with Aunt Sophie. It should be ending about now, and I would rather not have her return to an empty house. Besides, she’ll be excited to hear how the Parliament vote went.”

  He and Dahlia left shortly afterward.

  Climbing into the carriage proved easier than it had this morning. Although he’d already been on his feet far longer than Dr. Farthingale had recommended, there was something uplifting about this day that gave him renewed strength. He might feel the aches tomorrow, but he wouldn’t care then.

  In truth, the wonder in Dahlia’s eyes was worth any amount of discomfort. She was so obviously happy, it made his own heart soar. “We’ll just explore these main rooms,” she said, her brow furrowed in concern about his climbing the stairs. “No need to inspect the bedchambers yet. We can do that tomorrow at our leisure.”

  She’d brought along her pencils and a sketchbook, and immediately began to make rough drawings of each room. The guest salon, the family parlor, the dining room, the study, the library. But once done with the library sketch, she closed her pad. “We’ve done enough for one day.”

  He did not object.

  Standing around was far more tiring than walking, and he’d probably done too much of both.

  Holly had supper ready for all of them by the time they returned. Heather was back, and he was not surprised to find Robbie seated in the parlor, drink in hand, as he and Joshua discussed the successes of the day.

  It was to be just the six of them for supper this evening. Holly’s cook had prepared a hearty stew that the women seemed to peck at, and the men devoured like jungle beasts. Dahlia laughed when he glanced at her questioningly. “If I ate like you, my stomach would explode,” she said with a grin. “I am amazed at the amount of food you are able to shovel inside of you.”

  He realized then how different setting up a household with one’s wife would be from living with brothers and a drill sergeant for a mother. A loving mother, of course. But he did not think Dahlia would be smacking him on the head whenever he did something foolish. She would either hold it in or she would spill quiet tears that would rip his heart worse than any smack to the head.

  He was still thinking of this a short while later as they retired to their bedchamber. He’d only been thinking of claiming her, not how to go about it. But as she stood by the fire’s glow, removing her pelisse and then sitting on a chair to take off her shoes and stockings, he knelt by her side. “Let me do that for you, Queen Pea.”

  She watched, wide-eyed and blushing, as he knelt before her and took off her shoes, setting each one aside.

  She eeped as he slipped his hands beneath her gown and slowly slid one stocking off and then the other, also setting each one aside.

  “I’ll help you out of your gown,” he said, his voice aching and raw as he lifted to his feet and drew her up along with him. She was still blushing, but he knew she was curious and excited. Her breaths were coming faster now, noticeable by the slight heave of her breasts.

  He turned her around and bent to plant light kisses on her neck as he slowly undid the fastenings of her gown, taking his time to trace his fingers over the swells and curves of her body and caress her as he nudged the gown ever lower until it fell in a pool at her feet. “Oh, goodness. My legs are soft as pudding.”

  “Ah, then I have done my job.” He lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed.

  She gasped. “Ronan, your ribs!”

  They didn’t hurt.

  Nor did it bother him that his heart was thundering. The molten heat of his desire numbed him to any pain. He set her down in the center of the bed, leaving her still clad in her chemise while he stepped back to peel off his jacket and shirt. But he could not manage his boots on his own. Bollocks. He should have thought of that first. Dahlia realized his difficulty and scrambled off the bed to help him.

  Ah, so much for prowess.

  He clutched his ribs as the effort of tugging off his boots shot bolts of pain up his sides, and stars burst in his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw her look of concern. “Ronan, perhaps we ought to wait–”

  “Hell, no. I’m fine, Queen Pea. Truly.” He rose and took her in his arms, staving off further protest by claiming her mouth in a torrid kiss that did wonders to stir her heart and arouse her body. He felt her every slight change and knew she was responding to him with a heightened awareness of pleasure.

  She pressed herself against him so that he could feel the pounding of her heart against his own. Her breasts, those beautiful, plump mounds he was determined to explore quite thoroughly, molded to the hard planes of his chest. The rope burns he’d suffered had yet to fully heal. Would his skin’s rough texture bother her? She did not appear to mind it.

  He breathed her in, lost himself in the cinnamon and apple scent of her skin.

  He unpinned her hair and ran his fingers through the silken length, then removed her chemise and tossed it to the foot of their bed, not caring where it landed. This angel was in his arms, lost in his hot kisses, and he was lost in the splendor of her body, the perfect way she fit against him and how right she was for him in so many other ways.

  Then somehow, t
hey were on the bed again, atop the covers, and she was beneath his body. He cupped one full breast and began to tease it with his thumb. She gasped when he brought his mouth to the taut bud and began to gently suckle it.

  He moved to the other and did the same, his tongue flicking over it, laving it, and loving Dahlia’s response, the honesty of her soft, breathy sighs and whispered moans. “Ronan, I never knew it could be like this.”

  “Always, with us. I love you, Queen Pea.” He moved back up to kiss her throat, her face, and at the same time, his hand moved down her body, caressing and stroking, and finally coming to rest between her thighs.

  She gazed at him, questioning what came next but also eager to find out if her steamy look of confusion was any indication. He parted her legs slightly and began to stroke her intimately, watching her response as she closed her eyes and gave herself over to these new sensations of passion.

  He loved her expressions, the way she nibbled her lower lip, her sighs, and the way her body responded to his touch. She clung to his shoulders and gave herself over to his touch with so much trust, he felt a boundless love for her.

  When he felt she was ready, he entered her slowly and carefully, knowing this experience was new to her and not wanting her to feel any pain.

  She wrapped her arms around him as he broke through her maiden barrier, clinging to him as he led her toward fulfillment of this timeless act. His thrusts were cautious at first, but grew bolder as her body adjusted to him. She was slick for him. Hot for him. She was his mate. His love. Forever his.

  He took her breathy moans into his mouth, kissing her while he thrust inside her, watching her passion build, knowing just how to make it build. He felt her on the precipice of rapture, wrapped his arms around her, and held her in his embrace as she fell over the edge to experience a woman’s pleasure for the first time.

  She whispered his name. “Ronan. Ronan.” And clung to him tightly. Sweetly.

  He followed soon after, spilling himself inside her, lost in his own surge of pleasure.

  Heat roared through him.

  Hunger and craving for his Queen Pea fired his blood, as he knew it always would. Their coupling had changed him, for he was no longer merely himself but a part of her as well, bound to her in body and heart.

  Once they both began to calm, he smiled down at her and kissed her with a gentle longing.

  Now spent, he carefully pulled out of her and fell onto his back, drawing her atop him and closing his arms around her.

  She had the most incredibly beautiful body.

  And the loveliest mouth, now curved in a wondrous smile.

  He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “What are you thinking, Queen Pea?”

  “I’m not thinking at all. My brain and body have completely turned to pudding. But I can still feel, and there is so much feeling gushing out of me. I love you, Ronan. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve the gift of you.”

  “Mutual, sweetheart. But you’re the gift. Hell, I have no idea what I’ve ever done to deserve you. But never doubt that I shall always treasure you.”

  “Who would ever have thought, even a month ago, that we would be married and end up like this?”

  He stroked her hair, brushing back her soft curls. “I hoped for it. So many times, I wanted to say something to you. When I pulled the bean out of that Twelfth Night cake, it seemed to pulse in my hands. I knew you would be the one to pull out the pea. You had to be. No one else could ever be my queen. And no one else ever will be. You are the only one who will ever claim my heart.”

  “As you will only ever be my King Bean. I think I must find a wallpaper of beans and peas and hang it in our bedchamber, what do you think?”

  He knew she was teasing. “Do whatever you please, so long as you share my bed and fall asleep in my arms. And always love me.”

  “Loving you always is the easy part. Perhaps we won’t need that wallpaper. Maybe just a small painting on the dining room wall of a pea and a bean and a Twelfth Night cake.” She curled herself around his arm, as she’d taken to doing these past nights when every other part of him was covered in that unguent. “You are the best Christmas gift I ever had.”

  “Mutual, Queen Pea. Sweet dreams, my love.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  London, England

  May 1821

  Dahlia stood beside Ronan in the entry hall of their now decorated home, delighted to be hosting their first party, an afternoon tea. The day was bright and pleasant for what Dahlia hoped would be a casual gathering of friends and family. She was so proud of the work she’d done to bring out the beautiful features of the house and restore it to its original glory.

  Adding to the festive air was the fact that so many of her cousins and even her sister, Holly, were sporting telltale tummy bulges that boded of new little Farthingales and Braydens soon to come along. “Your Uncle George is going to have his hands full come summer,” Ronan murmured against her ear.

  She was delighted for Holly, and her cousins, Honey, Violet, and Belle. Not to mention Dillie and Daisy were also expecting. But what brought tears to her eyes was the news that Ronan’s cousin, James, and his Sophie, were going to have their first child. After all their years of marriage, they had almost given up hope. “We dared not say anything to anyone until now,” Sophie confided, “but I am four months along. We’re still afraid to talk about it, for this is our miracle baby, isn’t it? However, we wanted the family to know.”

  “Congratulations. Have you told Uncle John and Aunt Sophie?” Dahlia did not get a response before their families flocked around Sophie and James, carrying them off into the parlor. But she expected her aunt and uncle had been the first ones told, probably weeks ago. They were the two Sophies - Sophie Farthingale and Sophie Brayden, who was also known as Lady Exmoor - and they had grown to be very close friends.

  A few minutes later, Heather came up to her. “Is he here yet?”

  Dahlia wasn’t certain who she meant, and then the realization dawned on her. “You’re here with the Marquess of Tilbury. You are betrothed and about to marry him. Who else would you be looking for?”

  Her sister tipped her chin up. “Why didn’t you tell me Robbie had resigned his position as Parliament liaison and was returning to Caithness for good? Is this why he disappeared three months ago without a word to me? And now he’s back to wind up his affairs in London and then be gone forever.”

  “Why are you overset? I assumed you knew. I gave you The Book of Love shortly after the new year. Have you not read it with him?”

  “No.”

  Dahlia’s eyes widened in dismay. “You promised you would. Oh, Heather! You promised.”

  “Hell,” Ronan said softly. “Why didn’t you, Heather?”

  “Because I... Lord Tilbury was courting me, and I saw no need. But I gave the book to Robbie, and I was always available to him if he wanted to discuss any particularly confusing passages.” She clasped her hands and began to wring them. “What’s wrong with the two of you? Why are you frowning at me?”

  “You broke your word.” Dahlia wanted to grab her sister by the shoulders and shake her. “Have you read any of the book?”

  “Me? Well, no.”

  Dahlia wasn’t certain why she was now getting distressed over her sister’s actions. Or rather, inaction. But her stomach was twisted in knots, and she could not shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. She wasn’t certain why she felt this way. After all, the Marquess of Tilbury was a very good man. “You must read it with Robbie. You have to do it before he leaves.”

  Ronan put an arm around her waist. “Dahlia, love. It doesn’t matter. Your sister is marrying Tilbury in a few weeks.”

  “No, it does. It matters very much. You lied to me, Heather. You promised me you would. You promised.”

  Tears sprang in her sister’s eyes. “Don’t be angry with me. I couldn’t bear it if you were. I love you, Dahlia.”

  “And I lov
e you. This is why you have to read the book with Robbie.”

  “Don’t make me do it. Please, don’t.” Tears were now trailing down Heather’s cheeks. “I’ll fall in love with him if I do, and then I’ll never marry my marquess. And why would you wish me on Robbie? Shouldn’t he have the right to reach for the moon and stars? An earl’s daughter? Or the daughter of a duke? Why would you foist a Yorkshire merchant’s daughter on him?”

  She understood her sister’s fears, but her own feelings were powerful, and she was only looking after her sister’s happiness. “The book won’t make you feel anything you don’t already feel, Heather. It isn’t about tricking you into falling in love with the wrong man. It’s about having you understand what true love is all about and finding the right man.”

  Dahlia glanced at Ronan, now worried she had overstepped and was breaking her sister’s heart. After all, with Heather’s wedding almost upon them, it was too late for her to break things off with the Marquess of Tilbury.

  “The right man? Are you suggesting I haven’t found him? I don’t want to hear another word.” With a sob, Heather turned and fled the house.

  Now Dahlia wanted to cry. “Oh, Ronan. We ought to go after her.”

  “No, love. She won’t go far. She’ll probably head for the garden in the square and sulk there for a little while. Give her a moment to herself. I’ll go fetch her if she isn’t back in ten minutes.”

  Dahlia laughed mirthlessly. “Is it ten minutes yet?”

  “Not even ten seconds, Queen Pea.” His arm was still around her waist, now resting there protectively. He knew she was overset, and being Ronan, he was going to protect her even if he thought she was in the wrong.

  He must have read her thoughts. “You have the right of it. She broke her promise. But it wasn’t out of immaturity or malice. She broke her oath because she’s desperately afraid of her feelings for Robbie.”

  Dahlia looked up at him, loving him more than she could ever convey. “I shouldn’t have said anything. What if I’ve forced her and Robbie together and it turns out Robbie doesn’t want her? I have to find her and apologize.”

 

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