The Book of Love (Books 1-3): A Regency Romance Collection

by Meara Platt

  The sooner the man began to investigate, the better.

  Beast’s hand would be stronger when he called upon Lord Gosling if he had damaging information to hold over the man.

  Poppy returned, her cheeks pink from hurrying up and down the stairs. “She isn’t in her bedchamber. Where could she be? I don’t think she returned to the house.”

  “I’ll look for her.” Beast gave a curt nod and strode out of the house, his gaze scanning the meadow. She wasn’t there. He turned toward the pond.

  There she was, seated on the grass under one of the large shade trees near the bank of the pond. He called her name softly as he came up beside her. “Goose.”

  She turned to the sound of his voice.

  “Are you all right?” He knelt beside her.

  She nodded. “A lot of memories, most of them joyful. They suddenly hit me like a big, crashing wave. It’s a beautiful house, isn’t it?”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Why is it Lord Gosling hasn’t let it to a family? For all his griping, the place would bring in a solid income.”

  “We’ll look into it when we return to town. I’m sending word today to a Bow Street runner I know. Perhaps he’ll have something to report to me by the time we are back in town.”

  “Beast, my head wants to protest and remind you that you have much more important matters to consider. But my heart is very grateful. I know I cannot fight him on my own, yet I don’t wish to drag my friends into this untenable situation. I never considered myself a violent person, but I want to wrap my fingers around that toad’s throat and keep squeezing until his eyes pop.”

  He laughed. “That’s mild compared to what I wish to do to him.”

  “Promise me you won’t damage your reputation in helping me. I’d never forgive myself if you harmed your chances because of me.”

  “I know, Goose. Let’s take it a step at a time. I’m considered a fairly good tactician.”

  She wrapped her hands around her knees and cast him a dimpled smile. “I’m suddenly looking forward to doing battle with that loathsome man. I can’t wait to see the apoplectic look on his face when he learns that England’s favorite war hero is helping me out.”

  “Favorite? I think Wellington has that honor.”

  Her smile broadened and her gaze upon him was soft and tender. “Not in my eyes.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Penelope, you’ve put together a grand affair,” Olivia said as she, Penelope, and Poppy strolled from room to room to make certain all was in place for this evening’s dinner party. Saturday had come too soon, and while Olivia looked forward to the evening, she also dreaded its end. Tomorrow would be a day for packing, and on Monday, they would all return to London.

  Her stomach roiled at the thought, but she put aside her worries and resolved to enjoy the festivities that her friend had worked so hard to plan. They strolled into the dining room. “This table puts the elegance of any London supper table to shame.” She gave a nod of approval, quite proud of her friend and all she’d accomplished in the matter of a few days. “I never realized you were so talented.”

  Penelope shook her head and laughed. “Organizing a party isn’t so hard when one has a staff as capable as Nathaniel’s. All I have to do is smile and take all the credit.”

  “We know you do much more than that. Still, we are very proud of you,” Poppy said. “My goodness, all this grandeur makes one feel quite insignificant.”

  Olivia agreed, for the table groaned under the weight of polished silverware and silver trays, gleaming crystal glasses, delicate tureens, and a massive candelabra. The china plates were rimmed in lapis and gold and bore the crest of the earls of Welles in its center. Tall vases filled with pink roses had been set at precisely measured intervals along the table.

  Penelope put her arms around both of them. “Enjoy yourselves tonight. We shall be among friends and good neighbors. In a few days we’ll be back in London and tossed back into the frenzy of the marriage mart.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wish there was a way for us to avoid being trotted out like fillies up for auctions at Tattersalls.”

  “Too bad we can’t find men to marry around here,” Poppy said. “Somehow, courtship feels more fun when among friends and familiar surroundings.”

  Olivia considered pointing out that Nathaniel and his friends were eligible bachelors, but since she had no intention of interfering with Beast’s political prospects, and Poppy was still too timid about aiming for a husband with a title, and Penelope and Thad could not be in a room with each other for more than five minutes without declaring war, she simply kept silent.

  “How do I look?” Poppy asked, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her gown.

  She had on a gown of pale pink silk and her maid had wound pearls in her prettily styled dark hair. “You look beautiful,” Olivia said.

  Penelope agreed, but suddenly began to fuss as well. “What about me?”

  Olivia cast her friend a warm smile. “Also, beautiful. The apricot silk of your gown brings out the natural creamy rose of your complexion as well as the auburn tones in your hair.” Penelope’s maid had fashioned her hair in a loosely upswept chignon held together by diamond clips.

  “My turn now.” Olivia glanced down at the robin-egg blue of her silk gown. “What do you think?” The gown was her most stylish, but it was still two years out of fashion by London standards. Thankfully, they were in the country now and she hoped the few changes she’d made, removing a frill here, sewing a touch of lace there, would not be seen as an obvious alteration. Her hair had been wound in an intricate twist at the nape of her neck that required no special adornments.

  She hadn’t any fancy clips or pins that would match her gown anyway.

  “I think Beast will have a hard time taking his eyes off you,” Penelope said, giving her a hug.

  “No. I wasn’t referring to him. He isn’t…”

  “He has to be,” Poppy said with sudden urgency. “If he isn’t, then that means The Book of Love hasn’t worked. But it has to. It must.”

  Olivia tipped her head to glance at Poppy. “Why must it work on Beast? We all knew he was the impossible goal.”

  “But that’s just it. Isn’t this what we’ve all been working toward? If you can attain your impossible goal, then maybe there’s hope for me.” She began to wring her hands.

  Olivia and Penelope exchanged glances. “What’s going on, Poppy?”

  “Nothing. At least, it’s still nothing. But what if it could possibly be something? I just don’t know. Never mind. It’s hopeless anyway.” She rushed out of the dining room.

  “I’d better go see what’s on her mind,” Olivia said.

  Penelope held her back “No, I’ll go. In truth, I think this is my fault. I’ve been pushing her into aiming higher for a beau and I think I’ve overset her. I had better apologize.”

  Olivia remained in the dining room a moment longer, gazing at the settings and absently placing the guests in their proper chairs. Beast, of course, would be seated beside Lavinia since he was the highest-ranking male at the table. Penelope’s brother, since he was Earl of Welles and host, would be seated at the head of the table. She and Poppy would wind up somewhere in the middle beside one of the local squires.

  “There you are, Goose.”

  She turned to the familiar rumble of Beast’s voice and caught her breath at the sight of him. “Beast, you look so handsome.” The black of his eyepatch somehow enhanced his stature and he looked simply wonderful in his formal attire. The black jacket contrasted against the crisp white lawn fabric of his shirt. His tie was also a snowy white. He appeared daunting and magnificent.

  He chuckled. “And you look dazzling, Miss Gosling. There’s to be dancing after supper. Will you save one for me? The last one, I hope. It’s to be a waltz.”

  She nodded. “I’d be delighted. You called me Miss Gosling.”

  The sound of her name on his lips felt quite nice. It mattered not a whit that it was
the proper manner of address and meant nothing more. There was something in the way he’d spoken it, she could not get over the sense it did mean something more to him.

  Perhaps this was the start of a higher brain connection. When had Beast ever addressed her as anything but Goose? Or Little Goose. She might fall into a swoon if he ever called her Olivia. “Why did you call me that?”

  He cast her a devastating smile that sent tingles shooting up and down her body. She loved the way his lips curled upward in that slightly arrogant way. She’d save every dance for him if he asked. Of course, he’d only offered for the one, but ending the evening in his arms was quite something to look forward to. “Goose is an endearment for you that I’d rather not share with strangers.”

  “An endearment? I thought it was because I ran funny. I suppose I still do. You were mocking me.”

  His smile slipped. “Never… not even the first time I called you that. The name was always meant to be affectionate, never derisive or cruel.” He ran a hand through his golden hair. “I never considered it would hurt your feelings.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “It hasn’t. I’ve always taken it the way you meant it. The same way I call you Beast. But I must remember to refer to you as Your Grace when we are in company.” She pursed her lips as she studied him. “It feels odd, I will admit. You’ve always been Beast to me. But everyone knows you as the Duke of Hartford. Yet, you are so much more than a mere title.”

  She shook her head and grinned at him. “I hope you do not take the fact I never think of you as a duke as an insult. The man you are is what counts most, not the good fortune of your birth.”

  “To you it matters, but most young ladies and their social-climbing parents do not care about me beyond my title.” He reached out and tweaked her chin. “I picked up something for you in town. Silk ribbons and hair clips for Penelope and Poppy, but this gift is for you.”

  She held her breath as he reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and removed what appeared to be a bracelet. Her eyes widened. “You didn’t have to.”

  He nodded. “I know. It is something you do not need, but something you wanted. I noticed you looking at it the other day when we all walked into town.”

  She stared at it as he clasped it on her wrist. “You’ve added charms to it. A piano. A goose. A house… a beast. Oh, it’s beautiful.”

  He tweaked her chin again. “Remember to save me that dance.”

  Mercy. It would be one of the highlights of her life. She was unlikely to forget it. Or him. Or this beautiful gift. Or a single moment of this evening. Or a single step of their waltz.

  She hoped she wouldn’t ruin it by stomping on his feet.

  She’d never danced the waltz before nor taken lessons to learn it. Poppy and Penelope had tried to teach her a few steps the other day, but Penelope was the only one of them who’d actually waltzed with a man. Although stumbling around in circles with one’s inebriated cousin hardly counted for anything, as far as Olivia was concerned.

  As guests began to arrive and gather in the drawing room, Olivia had no further chance to speak to Beast. He was soon surrounded by an adoring throng comprised not only of determined mothers and their ingenue daughters, but men who were eager to hear all about his victories in battle.

  She didn’t mind.

  He’d thought of her. He’d gone out of his way to purchase this gift for her. It was a simple bracelet, the charms made of etched tin. No diamonds or emeralds, nor rubies or sapphires. He knew she wouldn’t care about those. It was the sentiment that mattered.

  Each charm represented something significant in her life.

  Overwhelmed and happy, Olivia busied herself greeting old friends who still resided in the neighborhood.

  Lord and Lady Plimpton were among the first to arrive. Their daughters were a few years older than she and her friends. The last of the Plimpton girls had married last year. “It is so good to have you back with us,” Lady Plimpton said, and Olivia was relieved to note she no longer wore the gardenia perfume that used to overpower Beast and chase him out of the house onto the balcony gasping for breath. “We were hoping you would return to Gosling Hall, my dear. But I suppose London holds more excitement for you.”

  “I would love to remain here, but unfortunately, the new Lord Gosling does not love the country. I suppose he will put the property up for sale eventually.”

  Lord Plimpton regarded her oddly. “Certainly not without your permission.”

  She cast him a mirthless smile. “If it were up to me, he never would receive it. But I doubt he’ll ask me. Why would he? All of the Gosling holdings are his now.”

  “No, that can’t be right.” Lord Plimpton shook his head and frowned. “I was certain your father had made arrangements. We share a London solicitor, you see. Sir Winston Aubrey. A most reliable man. I ran into your father one day just coming out of Gray’s Inn where Sir Winston has his chambers, and he mentioned…” He paused to glance at his wife in obvious consternation.

  “What did he tell you?” Olivia’s eyes rounded in surprise and her heartbeat quickened. “My lord, would you mind telling this to His Grace?” She glanced toward Beast who was surrounded by an even larger audience now. “Oh, dear. Perhaps not now. But after supper.”

  However, Beast happened to look over at her and must have seen the distress in her expression. He excused himself and headed straight toward her. And listened intently as Lord Plimpton told him all about his encounter with her father. The discussion was rapid, and since Olivia had stepped back with Lady Plimpton to allow the men privacy, she could not hear all of their words. A few caught her attention. “Inns of Court… Chancery… testament.”

  Olivia’s heart remained firmly trapped in her throat throughout supper, for the dinner bell rang before she had the chance to talk to Beast and get his opinion on the matter. She hardly tasted the ten courses offered up for the festive meal, taking only a sip or two of the turtle soup everyone exclaimed was divine. The smoked ham and the lamb in a chestnut puree were set before her, but she left those meats untouched on her plate.

  However, she noticed the goose in plum juices had been set near Beast. He grinned at her and cast her a discreet wink as he took a bite of the roast goose.

  She waited patiently through the dessert course but not even she could resist the custard or the lemon cake. Then the ladies retired to the drawing room, the elder matrons having their sherry, while coffee and tea was offered to the younger ladies.

  By the time she’d finished her tea, Olivia was tapping her foot impatiently. It felt as though eons had passed before the men finished their port and smokes and ambled in to join the ladies. Nathaniel cut quite the fine figure and caught the eye of every lady in the room, as did Thad when he entered shortly afterward.

  Nathaniel and Thad escorted the ladies into the music room, which had been left bare of furniture to allow for the much-anticipated dancing. But while he and Thad joined in, Nathaniel opening the entertainment by leading Poppy onto the dance floor and Thad following with Penelope, Beast was nowhere to be found.

  Where had he gone?

  Oliva lagged behind and peeked into the card room where tables had been set up for those who preferred to play whist. Lord Plimpton was also missing, and she wondered if their absence was connected to their earlier discussion about her guardian.

  She considered looking for Beast, but had no chance to slip away before Marcus Baldridge, the magistrate’s son, claimed a dance. Then Lord Plimpton’s visiting nephew, Captain Andrew Gordon, claimed the next. Thad claimed the third and Nathaniel claimed the fourth. The night was about to end. As the musicians struck up the refrains of a waltz, she realized this was the dance Beast had promised her, but he was nowhere in sight and obviously had forgotten. He wasn’t with Lord Plimpton for the old lord was now back in the room and standing at his wife’s side.

  She tried to fight off her disappointment, tried to convince herself it did not matter. But it did. Dancing with Beast me
ant the world to her. Perhaps she was being unreasonable. After all, he’d given her a bracelet.

  Unable to keep up a cheerful facade, she slipped out of the music room and wandered onto the terrace. Tears began to well in her eyes, but she wiped them away with her hand. She silently chided herself for behaving like a weepy hen. Or weepy goose. “There must be good reason. Beast wouldn’t abandon me.”

  She resolved to distract herself by gazing at the stars that dotted the night sky. She knew a few of the constellations and spent her time trying to find each one. In truth, the stars were dazzling. But her heart still ached.

  The party was about to end along with the waltz, for the hour was nearing midnight. A few of the guests were making motions to leave. Olivia knew she ought to return indoors, for it was time to bid everyone good evening. But she was still ridiculously overset and dared not risk everyone noticing.

  She decided to remain where she was. The torches lining the terrace and garden paths gave off very little light, allowing her to hide, wobbly chin and sniffles, and no one would be the wiser.

  “Goose? There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  She gasped and turned toward the sound of Beast’s voice, not having heard his steps until he was already upon her. Was she that distracted? Or was it Beast’s battle training that allowed him to come upon an enemy with stealth and catch him unaware?

  “Sorry I’m late. After speaking to Lord Plimpton, I decided to send word immediately to my Bow Street runner about Gosling Hall and all that Lord Plimpton mentioned. It will give him a good start to his investigation.”

  “You were late because of me?” Her heart had been pounding with despair a moment ago and was now pounding with elation.

  “Then I went upstairs to read to Pip. I had promised him earlier. The lad is still struggling with the loss of his parents. I could not bring myself to disappoint him. I knew you would understand. At least, I hoped you would. Am I forgiven? I’m sorry I missed our waltz.”

  She wanted to throw her arms around Beast and hug him fiercely. “Of course, you’re forgiven. How could I ever fault you for being kind to Pip? I’m so glad you thought of him.” She laughed lightly. “I was merely being petulant. I was certain you had forgotten about me. Utterly silly. You gave me a gift and I imagined… never mind. You didn’t forget me.”