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

by Meara Platt

  He set aside the book and rose as she approached him. “I helped out a friend, that’s all. I didn’t do it for the accolades. I did it for Goose.”

  “Nathaniel…”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, Poppy?”

  She stood so close to him that she could see the silvery flecks in his eyes and count them. She wanted to reach up and kiss him soundly on his nicely-shaped lips. She wanted to throw herself into his arms. “Thank you.”

  She turned to walk away, but he took her hand to hold her back. Heavens, his touch! His hand was big and warm and felt so perfect as it circled around hers. “What I did for Goose is nothing to what you are doing for me. I sent over a groundskeeper and a few maids on occasion, something anyone could have done. A little money tossed here or there was something I could easily afford. But what you are doing for me, that’s priceless.”

  She thought he might kiss her. Their lips were close enough that she felt his breath on hers.

  She wanted him to kiss her.

  “I’d given up hope on a love marriage. But you’ve helped me see things from another perspective. If I find happiness in my marriage, it will be because of you.”

  Her heart crashed to the floor. “Yes, well… that’s what friends do for each other. Quietly and without accolades.”

  She slipped her hand out of his and summoned all the pride she could muster while walking out of his study. She shut the door behind her and fell against it with a silent sob.

  Then raced upstairs to her bedchamber to fall onto her bed in tears.

  *

  When the rain stopped at midday, Beast and Olivia came over from Gosling Hall in time to join them for luncheon. “Where’s Nathaniel?” Beast asked, noticing his absence. “Is he hiding from you, Poppy?”

  She cast him a smile. “No, quite the opposite. He’s taken The Book of Love quite seriously. I think he’s still locked away in his study reading it.”

  Penelope’s eyes rounded in surprise and she shot to her feet. “You trusted my brother with the book? He’ll destroy it.”

  Poppy rolled her eyes. “No, he won’t. He’s embraced the wisdom.”

  Thad cast her a dubious look. “Embraced it? I have to get my hands on that book.”

  “When pigs fly,” Penelope snapped back. “I’m getting that book next, and you will never get your big Scottish paws on it.”

  Poppy turned to the sound of rumbling laughter behind her. Nathaniel was standing in the doorway. He cast her a private smile before turning to his sister. “I shudder to think of that book in your hands,” he teased, but there was an undercurrent of warning in his words. “You must promise me you’ll never use it to hurt Thad.”

  Penelope appeared ruffled. “I’d never hurt him. How could you think I would?” She turned to stare at Thad. “Even if I did use you as a test frog–”

  “Bollocks.” Thad ran a hand through his dark red hair. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m not. That book is too powerful, and I am not going to risk your falling in love with me.” She raised her hand when he began to protest. “Don’t worry. I’ll be testing it out on someone who actually has a chance of liking me. I know that won’t be you.”

  “Good, because I have no intention of sitting quietly and allowing you to dissect me. I’m not a damn frog.”

  “Right, you’re not a frog. You’re a big, Scottish–”

  “Stop! The two of you.” Poppy wanted to say something more to the pair, but couldn’t find the words. How could she spout an opinion when she was using The Book of Love to bring Nathaniel and Charlotte together? She hadn’t used a single test on Nathaniel. If anything, she was purposely giving him all the answers. She had no intention of ever testing him. How could she risk his falling in love with her?

  Not that she believed for a moment it might happen, for he was too caught up in his problems to look beyond his own nose.

  But in helping him, she’d put her heart at risk and it was now breaking. She never realized falling in love could hurt so badly. “Excuse me,” she mumbled and ran out of the room.

  She hurried upstairs and grabbed a shawl, then attempted to slip out the back stairs. The sun was now peeking out from what had moments ago been a solid wall of gray. But the gray clouds were now breaking up to reveal patches of blue sky. The ground was still muddy, but she had on her sturdy walking boots. They could withstand getting sucked into those small, muddy pools that had formed in the roadway.

  She cut across the back garden, intending to take the shortcut to Wellesford and uncertain what she would do once there. Perhaps she’d visit Miss Billings, the local bookshop owner, and share a cup of tea with her after browsing through her shop. Getting away from Sherbourne Manor and its handsome owner seemed of great importance at the moment.

  “Oh, bother.” She frowned as she glanced down, noticing she’d dirtied her gown when shoving open the gate that stood along the stone fence running the perimeter of the Sherbourne property. Everything was still soaked from the recent rain, and now mud and wet leaves had stuck to the delicate lavender muslin.

  She managed to brush most of it off, but streaks of dirt still lingered along the hem and across the bodice. Nathaniel’s capable staff would clean it, hopefully without too much fuss.

  “Miss Farthingale,” she heard someone call from behind her.

  The voice was masculine. Deep and rumbling, but cheerful. She turned toward the sound with a smile. “Good afternoon, Dr. Carmichael.”

  He caught up to her within a few strides. “You shouldn’t be walking on your own. Where are your friends?”

  “Just sitting down to lunch, but I wasn’t hungry.” It wasn’t quite true, but she did not wish to discuss the real reason. “I have an errand to complete in town, so I thought I’d take care of it now that the sun has come out.”

  He glanced up at the sky, then returned his gaze to her. The doctor’s eyes were a rich, nut brown and his hair was a dark, reddish-brown, a little darker than Thad’s. Angus was his given name and he’d come down from Scotland years ago to set up his practice here in Wellesford. He was a little older than Nathaniel and his friends, but not by more than a couple of years. “I’m headed that way now. I’ll escort you.”

  She would have preferred to be alone with her thoughts, but knew it would not happen. Dr. Carmichael had those same protective instincts as Nathaniel, Beast, and Thad. He would never allow her to continue on her own, it mattered not that the town could be seen in the distance.

  “Were you looking in on Mrs. Fitch and her children?” she asked as he fell into step beside her.

  He nodded. “The little one, Walter, fell and sprained his wrist. Nothing too terrible. The lad was off and playing with his brothers and sisters as soon as I’d finished binding it.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad.” She had helped deliver Walter into the world and it was not something she would ever forget.

  She’d only been fourteen at the time. She, Penelope, and Goose had been walking into town one beautiful summer’s day when they’d encountered Mrs. Fitch struggling by the side of the road. She was in labor. Her three small children were crying beside her, all of them too young to run into town on their own for help. Penelope had taken on that task while Goose had taken the children aside and distracted them with stories. It had been left to her to assist Mrs. Fitch with the birth.

  So, she did.

  And the babe came out just as Penelope returned with Dr. Carmichael. She’d gone to him since the midwife was nowhere to be found. He’d allowed Poppy to remain by his side, explaining each step as he worked to clean up the afterbirth and snip the umbilical cord.

  “Do you remember Walter?”

  She nodded and gave a merry laugh. “How could I forget him? The moment he entered the world is seared into my memory. I was afraid Mrs. Fitch was going to name him Poppy. Thankfully, she came to her senses in time.”

  He grinned at her. “What? Don’t you know? She and her husband named the lad Walter Poppy Fitch
. Did no one ever tell you?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “No. Are you jesting? You know I’m awfully gullible.”

  “Upon my oath, it is the truth. You can ask Vicar Carstairs if you don’t believe me. Walter P. Fitch is the lad’s name, and that P stands for Poppy.”

  She shook her head and sighed. “That boy will hate me forever.”

  He gave a light groan. “Miss Farthingale, no man will ever hate you. I’m surprised you haven’t at least a dozen beaus following you wherever you go.”

  “I fear I must disappoint you. I haven’t a single one.”

  He arched an eyebrow and glanced back. “Seems you do have one. An earl, no less.”

  “What?” She turned to follow his gaze. Nathaniel was striding toward them.

  “Good afternoon, Dr. Carmichael.” But he was looking at her and frowning. She supposed he wasn’t happy that she had simply run off.

  “A beautiful afternoon it is, Lord Welles. I was just commenting on it to Miss Farthingale.”

  His frown deepened. “Poppy, you shouldn’t have left the house on your own.”

  She responded by flashing him a smile. “I’m not on my own. I have two gentlemen here to escort me into town.”

  Dr. Carmichael shook his head and grinned again. “I’m afraid I shall have to leave you now. Lord Welles, how is Lady Lavinia? I know she usually struggles when it rains as heavily as it did this morning.”

  Poppy responded before Nathaniel had the chance. “She wasn’t feeling well, slow to get out of bed this morning, but she dressed and came downstairs around eleven. Would you look in on her? She did seem a little paler than usual.”

  “Then I shall do so.” He cast her a smile and nodded toward Nathaniel before hopping the stone fence with the agile strength of a young boy, using it as a shortcut to the manor house.

  Poppy resumed walking, quickening her strides to keep ahead of Nathaniel, but he was taller and his legs were longer. He caught up to her with little difficulty. She was the one breathing harder to maintain the brisk pace.

  “Why are you so overset?” he asked. “You know Thad and Penelope can’t help but bicker. I think they enjoy it.”

  “I know, but our earlier talk affected me more than I realized.”

  “I was afraid of that.” He placed her arm in his and slowed her pace as they continued to walk to town. “It was a difficult discussion and not fair of me to impose my problems on you.”

  She looked up at him. “No, Nathaniel. I’m glad you did. It was just a bit much for me to take in all at once. My life has been so sheltered. I’ve never endured hardship or faced the possibility of death in battle. We lost one of our relatives in the war, my father’s cousin, Harrison Farthingale. It devastated the family. I cannot comprehend losing as many dear friends as you have lost.”

  She cast him a hesitant smile. “In truth, this walk helped me. Dr. Carmichael came along, and he was on his way back from visiting Mrs. Fitch. Do you know her son, Walter? He sprained his wrist.”

  “I know him, and I’ve heard talk of your connection to him.” He looked at her in admiration, a precious look that she’d treasure forever. But this was Nathaniel’s strength. He encouraged her to take on challenges. He never felt threatened or overshadowed by the women in his family. “I haven’t heard the full story. Tell me about it while we walk.”

  “Mrs. Fitch was right about here with her young children when Walter suddenly decided to make his appearance. Penelope, Olivia, and I happened along and saw her struggling.” She quickly told him the rest of it. “So there I was, holding her hand and assuring her all would be well, when Walter’s head emerged. My heart stopped. I didn’t know what to do next, but Dr. Carmichael came along just then and handled everything.”

  “You were beside her when it mattered.”

  “I was at hand, that’s all.”

  He regarded her thoughtfully. “It must have been a proud moment for you.”

  “It was,” she admitted. “But it was also an odd summer. Unsettling in many ways, not only because of Walter’s unexpected arrival.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I was fourteen at the time. You were still off fighting in the war. Your father was ill, but Lavinia refused to break with tradition. Penelope would have her friends visit her no matter what else was going on with the family.”

  “I’m glad you were there for my sister.”

  She nodded. “It was a hard time for her. Your mother had passed, and now your father was in failing health. The brother she adored,” she said, referring to him, “was off somewhere on a foreign battlefield. She didn’t know whether you were dead or alive. Goose and I did our best to cheer her up that summer. We made a pact. We were never going to abandon Penelope in her time of need. We had no idea when we walked into town that summer day Mrs. Fitch would also be in need.”

  When she finished telling him the story, he stopped a moment and tucked a finger under her chin to draw her gaze to his. “The world needs more kind hearts such as yours. Don’t ever change, Poppy. Nor ever believe you have nothing to offer. You have an extraordinary ability to heal wounded hearts.”

  He slipped his hand away. “But let’s have no more serious discussions. Only pleasant chatter for the rest of the day. I’ll buy you a lemonade, and you can tell me all about the man of your dreams. I want to hear your list.”

  “Ah, I see. Turnabout is fair play?”

  She squinted into the sun as she looked up at him again, for the clouds were quickly disappearing and there were even more blue patches in the sky. The warm air still felt moist, and she breathed in the earthy scent of wet wood and muddy ground, and in the mix was the subtle scent of Nathaniel’s sandalwood soap.

  “Yes. How am I to help you find the right man unless I know more about your likes and dislikes?” He shook his head and laughed lightly as they continued down the road. He had a nice laugh, deep and mellow. Genuinely pleasing to her ears. “Of course, since you are far more clever than I am, you probably don’t need my help. Still, it is my responsibility to keep you away from the rakes who will lead you to ruin.”

  “My, that’s awfully severe. I’m not a witless fool. I don’t intend to run off to Gretna Green with the first man who smiles at me.”

  “Perhaps I’m being a little dramatic. But your happiness is important to me, I hope you know that. A man doesn’t need to have wicked designs on you to still be wrong for you. The Book of Love’s author claims that a woman’s brain is different from that of the male. I don’t know that we are so very different. Once the male gets past the initial urge to spill his seed far and wide, aren’t we then looking for the same thing? The connections that will make for a happy union.”

  She nodded. “I suppose.”

  “So, you must make your list. What qualities do you wish for in a husband?”

  She tipped her head up and smiled at him. “Do you want to hear them now or must I write them down and show them to you later?”

  “Now. I’m too curious to wait. Besides, I know you’ve given more thought to it than I ever gave to choosing a wife. Shows what an idiot I am. But you have a good head on your shoulders. What are your required qualities?”

  “Oh, you know. The usual.”

  “What? Incredibly handsome. Wealthy. Titled?”

  She skipped over a few puddles in the road. “All those things are optional. He must be utterly devoted to me and our children. A family man.”

  “Family is important to you.”

  “Yes, of course. I couldn’t be with someone who shunted his children aside while he made the rounds of parties and entertainments every evening. Not that I would expect him to become a recluse, but there must be a balance that tips in favor of his family.”

  She avoided another puddle and continued. “He must be thoughtful, but also have a sense of humor. He must be kind. I know it is fashionable to be considered a gentleman, but such a man holds little appeal for me. The men in my family are hard workers. I don’t know that I could respect a
man who wakes at noon and does nothing all day. That isn’t for me, no matter how handsome or wealthy he is. No matter if he has a title.”

  “It always struck me as odd, as well. Why think more of a man because he idles the day away? I’m glad you weren’t taken in by that. You truly are quite sensible.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “I am going to memorialize your statement by writing it down in my diary. Lord Welles declared me to be sensible today. I don’t believe that statement has ever been made of a Farthingale before.”

  He emitted a hearty chuckle.

  “I know you meant it as a compliment, but a young woman with good sense is not considered desirable in Society. Wealth and status are the highly prized traits. Which is precisely why I haven’t made a very good impression in my first Season.”

  “Not everyone does. It signifies nothing.”

  “I don’t know that I will ever be comfortable making the rounds of balls and soirees. I find most of the ballroom chatter quite dull, and I’m not very good at batting my eyelashes and giggling inanely at jests that I do not find funny at all.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “You surprise me. I still think of you, Goose, and Penelope as those ten-year-old girls who used to chatter and giggle in those long-ago summers. But you’ve grown up. I like those little girls you were. Joyful and innocent. But I also like the women you’ve become.”

  She sighed wistfully. “Things are changing. Goose is married now. I expect Penelope will marry soon. It will hurt to lose my best friends. Oh, we’ll always remain dearest friends, but they’ll have their own households to run and children to raise.”

  “So will you when you marry. Are there any men who have caught your attention?”

  You, you, you. But she could never admit this to him now. “Do you mean in London? Not really.”

  “Well then, how about here in Wellesford?”

  “There aren’t too many. Although the vicar, Adam Carstairs, and the doctor, Angus Carmichael, are good men. I’d mention Andrew Gordon, but it will put you in a temper. What is it about him you don’t like?”