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

by Meara Platt

  Thad stared at him. “Well, the coward put his initials on it, so perhaps we can guess who it is. A.C. The doctor perhaps? Angus Carmichael.”

  “Or the vicar,” Beast said, adding his opinion. “Adam Carstairs. He does seem to smile a lot in Poppy’s presence.”

  Nathaniel stared at it again. “It could be A.G. Andrew Gordon. Bollocks. I’ll rip him apart if he comes near you, Poppy.”

  She sighed. “No, Nathaniel. You won’t do any such thing.”

  Penelope was staring at him through her reddened eyes. “Why would you rip him apart?” She gasped. “Because he likes Poppy and you’re jealous?”

  He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m not jealous. He’s a dolt. An arse. A pretentious–”

  Pip burst out laughing. “You said arse!”

  “Be quiet, Pip, or I’ll feed you to Periwinkle.” He turned back to Poppy, his frown deepening. “He is not a suitable husband for you.”

  “Your opinion has been duly noted.” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice but failed.

  Perhaps she wasn’t being fair to him. He did not love her, but he was worried about her. Why did he detest Captain Gordon? He liked the other possible admirers well enough. He’d made no comment about the doctor or the vicar. They were good men and he knew it, although he’d made feeble excuses about their unsuitability the other day.

  But his dislike of Captain Gordon was something altogether different.

  She was worried. If these two men were left alone together, blood would be spilled. Not serious blood, of course. Perhaps a bloody lip or bloodied knuckles.

  Beast arched an eyebrow as he stared at her, his black eyepatch prominent and making him look quite dangerous. “Poppy, are you all right?”

  “No. I’ve never had a beau before.” Suddenly, everything she’d learned from The Book of Love flew out of her head. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Do?” Nathaniel repeated with a soft growl “You are to do nothing. Come to me immediately if you receive another letter from that coward.”

  “And you’re going to help her?” Penelope retorted. “What will your precious Charlotte think of that?”

  Poppy felt her heart give a little rip.

  She adored Penelope, but did her friend not realize she was pouring salt on Poppy’s deep and open wound?

  *

  “Poppy, get the book and join me in my study once you’ve finished breakfast,” Nathaniel said, gentling his voice as he spoke to her. He cast a warning glance around the table to make certain no one would comment. They all kept silent, as he expected they would. They’d given their opinions on his making a love match with Poppy.

  His sister had been most vocal about it, but everyone seated at the breakfast table loved Poppy and would consider him the biggest dolt ever to walk the earth if he did not marry her.

  He didn’t give a rat’s tail what any of them thought.

  He would fall in love at his own pace, at a time of his own choosing, and with a girl of his choosing. If that girl happened to be Poppy, so be it.

  But it would be his choice, made with due deliberation.

  He wasn’t going to recklessly jump in and spout mad, impetuous declarations of love to anyone. Certainly not before the matter of Lavinia was settled.

  Poppy nodded and rose to leave, but he put his hand over hers to hold her back. “Have your breakfast first. You look like you need reinforcement. Meet me there whenever you’re ready.”

  She nodded again and then stared at their hands because his still lay atop hers.

  Damn.

  He had no desire to remove it, but he did so before everyone noticed and deigned it their duty to comment.

  Why did her hand have to be so soft and perfect? It was the sort of hand one could hold onto forever.

  He cleared his throat and was about to pour himself another cup of coffee to take into his study, when Soames entered. “My lord, Dr. Carmichael is here to see Lady Lavinia.”

  “Speak of the devil.” Thad snorted. “Send him in, Soames.”

  Beast chuckled as he nodded. “Yes, at once.”

  Soames, ever loyal, awaited Nathaniel’s reply. He wanted to tell his butler to shoot the bounder and feed his carcass to the dogs. But he supposed that would not do. “Lady Lavinia will see him in the parlor. Send him there.”

  “Don’t be silly. Have him join us, Soames,” Lavinia insisted. “I’ll see him right here.”

  Nathaniel sighed. “Very well. Bring him in.” If the doctor was Poppy’s secret admirer, he wanted to know it sooner rather than later. Indeed, it was obvious everyone at the table wanted to know it.

  “My apologies,” Dr. Carmichael said, walking in with a smile on his face that faded as he noticed everyone gawking at him. “It, um… it appears I’ve come at a bad time.”

  “Not at all,” Lavinia intoned. “Do join us. Have you had your breakfast?”

  “Yes, hours ago. I only stopped in to see how you were feeling. Any better?”

  Lavinia smiled. “Yes, much better. The pains have gone. We were just speaking of Shakespeare.”

  “Ah, England’s jewel in the crown. One of my favorites, but I suppose he is everyone’s favorite.” Despite being offered a seat, he remained standing just inside the doorway, his faded smile now turning into a frown as they all continued to stare at him. “My lady, if you are feeling well, then I’ll be on my way.”

  “What is your favorite work of his?” Nathaniel asked, hoping to sound casual, but the question sounded like a Spanish inquisition even to his own ears.

  “Of Shakespeare’s?” The doctor began to fidget with his collar. “I don’t think I have one in particular. Perhaps Macbeth, since it is the Scottish play, and I’m a Scot, as you all know. My lord, I hope you won’t find me rude, but what is going on? Why are you all looking at me as though I’ve grown a third eye in the center of my forehead?”

  Nathaniel ignored the question. He was the one conducting this interrogation. “Do you enjoy his sonnets?”

  “Dare I respond? You look ready to hang me if I give the wrong answer.” He crossed his arms over his chest, prepared to wait Nathaniel out, but then sighed. “Yes, I enjoy them. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day… however, I prefer his plays. What’s this about?”

  Nathaniel held out Poppy’s letter. “Did you write this?”

  Dr. Carmichael perused it, then his eyes widened when he noticed the initials. “Miss Farthingale, rest assured, I did not! Were I to court you… first of all, I would never consider it. A country doctor? Aspiring to marry you? The notion is absurd.”

  Poppy blushed to her roots.

  “It is not absurd at all,” Lavinia said. “Poppy, you are lovely. I’m sure every man in town is a little in love with you. Do sit down, Dr. Carmichael. We did not mean to put you on the spot.”

  He laughed. “Oh, Lord Welles certainly did. Were I of a higher station, Miss Farthingale, I would be following you about like a faithful hound. The man you choose to marry will be fortunate, indeed. But this letter was not written by me.”

  He ignored Nathaniel’s glower and studied Poppy thoughtfully. “My handwriting is atrocious. I’m not one to toss about elegant words, either. Especially not poetic ones. And I’d sign my name to any letter I wrote, not hide behind some fake initials.” He turned to Lavinia. “Are you truly feeling well?”

  She chuckled. “Yes, doctor. I am.”

  “Then I shall be on my way. I’ll see you all on Saturday, assuming I’m still invited.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Of course, you are. Forgive my ill temper.”

  “Nothing to forgive, my lord. I know you take your responsibilities seriously.” But he was shaking his head and chuckling as he left them.

  Poppy was still blushing, and now struggling to hold back tears. Nathaniel silently kicked himself for his callousness. He’d turned the matter of the letter into a circus. Perhaps Goose or Penelope would not have minded so much, but Poppy was more reserved. She did not like
to boast about herself or have others fuss over her.

  Indeed, she had no idea how beautiful she was inside and out.

  It amazed him she did not recognize her spectacular allure. “Poppy, I’m sorry. I handled this badly. It just seemed too much of a coincidence that Angus Carmichael should stop by so soon after you received this letter. I don’t like that your admirer is playing coy.”

  “He did write his initials.”

  “He was hiding behind those initials knowing there are half a dozen men in town with the same ones. Perhaps more, because we can’t tell if his last name begins with a C or a G. Perhaps it’s a sloppily written O or Q. Not that it matters. The point is, he’s hiding, and I don’t like it.”

  “Nor do I,” Beast said. “Think of what happened to Goose. I don’t want anyone attempting to abduct you.”

  Poppy tensed. “Abduction? The possibility hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  Great, now they’d scared her.

  Nathaniel gazed at the letter. Was it possible the person who’d written it was the blackmailer? He needed to compare the handwriting to the one Lavinia had received. “May I hold onto it for now?”

  Poppy emitted a ragged sigh and nodded.

  “No harm will come to you.” He placed his hand over hers again. “You’re safe here. We are merely considering all the possibilities, no matter how remote. You know I will protect you. Thad and Beast will do the same. So will Pip.” He grinned at his young cousin and saw the pride of responsibility shine in the boy’s eyes.

  Pip noticed things that adults overlooked. Perhaps he’d figure out the identity of Poppy’s admirer before any of them could. “So, take a deep breath. Finish your breakfast and then come to me.”

  He gave a curt nod and retired to his study.

  Beast and Thad excused themselves from the table and followed him, leaving the women to chat among themselves. “Do ye believe the lass is in danger?” Thad asked, closing the door behind him.

  “I don’t know. Likely, it’s just a letter and the besotted dolt will declare himself soon. Or he’ll be too afraid to act on his feelings and just slither away like the lowly snake he is.”

  “Not rushing to judgement, are you?” Thad teased.

  “If you’re worried for her safety, then do what I did to protect Goose,” Beast said, settling into one of the leather chairs beside his desk.

  “Marry her? First of all, the danger to Goose was real. Second of all, you were in love with her and just looking for any excuse to marry her without having to admit you loved her. Bachelors are such cowards. We’re all the same. Believing we are somehow made lesser by revealing what’s in our heart.”

  Thad strode to the window and casually leaned his shoulder against the wall as he peered out. “Are you saying you don’t love Poppy?”

  “I love all three of them. Don’t you? They are an important part of our lives. They are the reminder that sweetness and innocence can thrive in a dark world. But I’m not going to marry her simply because everyone wishes it.”

  Beast softly grumbled. “You’re not serious about marrying Charlotte Winthrow, are you?”

  Nathaniel raked a hand through his hair as he settled in his chair behind his desk. “Of course not. I said that to rile Penelope because she was going on about Charlotte’s unworthiness like a rabid dog. I didn’t know how else to shut her up. I suppose I ought to apologize to her, but I want to let her stew a little while longer. Are all sisters this irritating?”

  Thad chuckled as he turned to him. “All siblings are. I think it’s required.”

  Nathaniel grunted. “What do you think of this love letter Poppy received? Am I needlessly worrying about it?”

  “Perhaps,” Thad said, “but one can’t be too careful. I know it isn’t the same as Goose’s situation, but why not be sure? I think I’ll pay a call on the vicar. I’ve noticed his gaze straying to Poppy during his sermon. Might as well do some productive investigation while I’m here.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Just don’t scare the man. The townspeople like him and won’t be pleased if we chase him away, especially if he didn’t write it.” He joined his friend beside the window and put a hand on his shoulder. “Your regiment will be returning soon. I know you’re to meet their ship at Plymouth in a fortnight. Let me know if you’d like company on your journey.”

  Thad nodded. “I’m grateful for the offer but it won’t be necessary.”

  Nathaniel and Beast exchanged somber glances.

  They’d all been through the war, had all faced the loss of friends and family. But Thad’s situation had the makings of disaster. The main regimental force had stayed on in France to secure the peace. Only the dead and injured were coming home, and Thad had been assigned to meet that ship. He’d heard nothing more in the weeks since that order was issued, receiving no list of survivors or list of the dead.

  “We lost a lot of men at Waterloo,” Thad said. “I saw many fall in battle. But Wellington ordered me back to London immediately after the fighting stopped, and I’ve received no news since. It was chaos when I left. In truth, I don’t know what I’m doing back here. There’s nothing for me to do but wait, and we all know how patient I am.” He cast Nathaniel a mirthless smile. “I had a purpose in the midst of battle. But I’m useless here.”

  Thad was a captain in the Royal Scots Greys, one of the oldest and finest dragoon cavalry regiments.

  Nathaniel frowned. “You and I must have a talk before you leave Sherbourne. I mean it, Thad. It’s important. I know what you’re going through. I went through the same months ago, before Waterloo, thinking I could handle the task, but it’s a very different feeling from accounting for the dead and wounded on a battlefield. I wasn’t prepared to meet the ship when it brought my men home. It was those coffins lined up on the dock, you see. Silent. Impersonal. Neatly stacked. It rips you apart.”

  Nathaniel had lost friends, but it would be worse for Thad. He had brothers and cousins, kinsmen and clansmen, fighting alongside him. How many of them would show up on the lists? It had to be on Thad’s mind. Indeed, he was likely obsessed with worry. “Will you allow me to say anything to my sister? She might go easier on you if she knows.”

  Thad laughed. “No. Loopy is the only thing keeping me sane right now. She pokes and prods, makes me angry, makes me laugh. Makes me feel as though I am still living. She’s the blister on my foot that refuses to pop.”

  “How delightful. I’m sure she’ll melt in your arms when she hears those words.” Beast rose from his chair, shaking his head and chuckling. “Come on, Thad. I’m sure Goose and Loopy are missing us. Looks like it will be a nice day. Let’s walk into town. We’ll take Pip with us. Nathaniel, what are you going to say to Poppy?”

  “I have no idea.”

  It wasn’t long after his friends left that Poppy appeared at his door. She had The Book of Love in hand.

  She looked lovely. The soft blue of her gown matched the soft hue of her eyes. Her gowns were always fashionable, but modest. The book’s author spoke of the male’s lower-brain attraction to the female, which is why men’s gazes always strayed to the female breast. Healthy breasts. Fertile female.

  Women understood this power and often wore fashions to lure a man’s gaze just there.

  But Poppy was shy by nature. She would not be comfortable using her sensual appeal to lure a man. Nor did he need her pointing her breasts at him to notice her in that way. To his dismay, he’d long since passed that point with Poppy. “Come in and have a seat.”

  Well, noticing Poppy as more than his sister’s friend wasn’t dismaying so much as surprising. She was easy to look at. Beautiful. That’s what worried him. She grew more beautiful in his eyes with each passing day. Each encounter.

  Hers was a subtle allure that crept up on you and swallowed you whole while you weren’t paying attention.

  How long before everyone noticed that he was attracted to Poppy?

  Thankfully, the Winthrows would arrive soon, and he’d be too occupie
d entertaining them and his other friends to make a fool of himself over this girl.

  Besides, he had not ruled out Charlotte altogether. She was a renowned beauty. Surely, he’d get over this inexplicable fascination with Poppy once Charlotte arrived.

  Poppy closed the door, this time showing no hesitation as she settled in the chair opposite his desk.

  Since he preferred not put distance between them as they spoke of Poppy’s anonymous suitor, he came around to the front of the desk and sat beside her. Instantly, he realized his mistake. The girl was stirring his senses again. He caught the scent of lavender on her warm skin and had the sudden urge to put his lips to the slender curve of her neck and soak in her intoxicating fragrance.

  “Nathaniel, the book doesn’t say anything about anonymous love letters.”

  He tore his gaze from hers and pretended to concentrate on the book. “I know. But the author has a good understanding of men, and since it appears you are attracting suitors, you need to be more aware of what’s really going on in a man’s brain whenever he speaks to you.”

  She was blushing again, for her cheeks were pink and so were the tips of her ears. “I’m not a simpleton. I understand men have physical urges. Sometimes they’re expressed poetically in letters such as these.”

  “Shakespeare wrote those words. The dolt who copied them is a dim-witted, lazy–”

  “Lazy because he could not come up with his own romantic words? Honestly, Nathaniel. You can’t condemn a man for that. And you needn’t be concerned about my response. It will take more than a few words of flattery to sway me. Give me some credit for being careful.”

  “I do. You know I think you’re clever. And you also know I’m not saying this just to be kind to you.”

  She nodded.

  “What you don’t understand is the power of these five senses that are explained in the book. You mentioned to me that you are an observer.”

  “Yes, but I don’t wish to be. I want to experience all these marvelous sensations. Not to the point of tossing caution to the wind, mind you. I intend to be careful, but what if I’m caught off guard and carried away in the moment? I need to know what to expect.”