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

by Meara Platt

  He rode off with his thoughts in turmoil.

  By the description she had given him of the man who’d come around asking questions about Miss Billings, Nathaniel had a good idea who was behind this blackmail plot. However, the information Miss Huskins-Eeling had given the man would have led him to the wrong conclusion.

  The blackmailer, who could be none other than Andrew Gordon, had focused his malice on the wrong target.

  Nathaniel was determined to stop him before he caused more harm.

  Among the many thoughts swirling in his head was one of Poppy. She would be proud of how quickly he’d gotten to the truth. He couldn’t wait to tell her what he’d found out. Yes, it troubled him that she was becoming so important to him and that he looked forward to confiding in her.

  But he trusted her, and was eager to discuss his findings with her.

  He was also curious to see her response. He wasn’t looking for compliments or flattery, but wanted confirmation he had not overlooked something important. Poppy understood people far better than he ever would.

  Perhaps riding under the heat of the midday sun was not the brightest idea, but his horse had been well tended to while in the orphanage stables and easily made the journey home at a fast clip.

  Nathaniel reached Sherbourne Manor around three o’clock in the afternoon.

  Quickly dismounting, he handed the reins to his groom and strode into the house in search of Poppy. “Soames, have you seen Miss Farthingale?”

  Perhaps he ought to have been more discreet, but he no longer cared. Everyone adored Poppy down to the last member of his staff. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. When he looked at her, he no longer saw just a pretty girl, but a beautiful woman. When he spoke to her, he no longer viewed her as quiet and dull, but thoughtful and intelligent. She was shy, but he liked that she always felt comfortable around him so she could be herself.

  She didn’t blow through the house like a gale-force wind as his sister was prone to do. No, Poppy was a gentle summer breeze that he always found refreshing. Perhaps that explained why the kisses they’d shared were not just kisses, but came laden with a host of good memories that lightened his heart.

  “She’s in the garden, my lord. Having tea with–”

  “Thank you, Soames.” He strode outdoors and looked for her beside one of the large shade trees where the ladies often enjoyed afternoon tea in the summers. It took him a moment to spot her, for she was seated alone on a bench and appeared to be talking to herself.

  He grinned.

  Indeed, he was truly lost if he thought talking to oneself was charming.

  Then he realized she was not alone and had actually been speaking to someone. Smiling at that someone.

  Bollocks.

  She was with that villain, Andrew Gordon.

  His blood immediately heated to a boil. He’d never been this enraged, not even in the midst of battle. Soldiers who fought and killed on either side did it for love of their country and duty to their monarch. But this slimy toad was purposely destroying innocent lives to further his own unscrupulous interests. “Bastard,” he said in a low growl, grabbing the man and hauling him up by his lapels.

  Gordon let out a yelp and began to swing at him.

  Nathaniel knocked him to the ground with a single, well-placed punch.

  “Nathaniel, are you mad? What have you done?” Poppy was now on her feet and blazing angry. Her eyes were as wide and tumultuous as a stormy ocean. He’d never seen her this angry. Indeed, he’d never seen her angry at all. Not ever.

  Gordon was moaning and trying to roll to his feet.

  Nathaniel used his booted foot to push him back down. “Stay there and don’t move,” he ordered, ignoring the daggers Poppy was hurling at him with her gaze. “I have business with you, Gordon.”

  “What sort of business involves beating a man when he’s down?” Poppy had her own hands in fists.

  “I didn’t beat him when he was down. I hit him while he was up. And I’m not letting him up again until I’m done with him. Get out of the way, Poppy. I don’t want you hurt.”

  “While you beat him senseless? I will do no such thing.” She tipped her chin up stubbornly, her gaze one of defiance. “I won’t allow you to kill him.”

  “He doesn’t deserve your protection.” He gave the man another shove when he attempted to get up. “Why were you asking questions about Miss Billings at the orphanage? And pretending to do so at my request?”

  Poppy gasped and her fiery gaze shot to Andrew Gordon. “You did that?”

  “He’s lying,” Gordon shot back, rubbing his jaw. “Can’t you see he’s jealous and trying to destroy my reputation? Don’t believe him, Miss Farthingale. What possible reason would I have to be at an orphanage?”

  “You tell me, Mr. Gordon.” She now had her anger trained on the knave who was sprawled on the ground. “Lord Welles is no liar. Don’t waste your breath trying to convince me he is anything other than noble.”

  “Noble? Hah! That’s a good one.” He glowered at Nathaniel. “Does she know about you and Lady Charlotte? That you’ve soiled the Duke of Winthrow’s precious daughter. But now you’ve found Miss Farthingale the more interesting victim and intend to soil her, too. Only she doesn’t have a duke for a father to protect her from–”

  Nathaniel’s control snapped.

  He hauled the man to his feet and struck him again.

  Gordon fought back, but his fist only managed to graze the side of Nathaniel’s head. That was all Nathaniel needed to justify knocking the man down again.

  Poppy was yelling for him to stop, but he couldn’t. Andrew Gordon intended to make a career out of blackmail. Perhaps he’d already sent notes to Charlotte threatening to reveal her unmaidenly ways to her stern and imposing father.

  Poppy’s words came back to haunt him. Why do you think she never laughs, Poppy had asked when speaking of Charlotte. Lord, how long had Andrew Gordon been blackmailing her? He wasn’t in love with Charlotte, but he was not about to see her destroyed by this vermin.

  “Nathaniel, stop! You’ll kill him!” Poppy was now tugging on his arm.

  Then she was no longer holding him back. Beast and Thad were hauling him off the slimy toad and pinning his arms so he couldn’t land another punch. “Let me go!”

  His friends ignored him.

  Beast turned to Poppy. “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. Nathaniel charged at Captain Gordon like a raging bull.” Her voice was shaking as she spoke. Her body was shaking, too.

  Damn it, he’d scared her.

  Did that mean Poppy believed the cur? How could she? He grunted in frustration and then grunted again when Penelope and Goose rushed to Poppy’s side. He frowned at all of them. “The man deserves to die.”

  Thad kept his arm in a firm grip, his expression warning he’d break it if Nathaniel didn’t stop struggling. “Och, be careful what ye wish for. Ye may very well have killed him. I don’t think he’s conscious. There’s blood all over the both of ye. It’s on Poppy’s gown, too.”

  He cursed under his breath. “Poppy, I’m sorry. I–”

  “Save your apologies for Charlotte. I don’t care.” She turned and fled into the house.

  Penelope kicked him in the shin, then she and Goose hurried after Poppy.

  He gazed down at Captain Gordon who was now motionless on the ground.

  The fight rushed out of him and he stopped struggling against his friend’s grasp. “Thad, let me go.” To his relief, his friend did as he asked.

  “Shall I summon the magistrate?” Beast asked.

  Nathaniel shook his head. “No. Let’s revive him. He isn’t dead. I can see he’s still breathing. I need to speak in private with Lord and Lady Plimpton. They will arrange for him to be shipped off to some far-away posting where he can never hurt anyone again.”

  Thad nodded. “Assuming he recovers.”

  Nathaniel spared the knave another glance. “He’ll recover. Scheming bastards li
ke him always do.”

  “Care to tell us what he did?” Beast asked.

  “No.” Nathaniel glanced down at his bloodied knuckles, withdrew the handkerchief he carried in his breast pocket, and wiped it across the back of his hands. “He’s dangerous. Don’t trust him. And don’t let him near the girls.”

  “Your nose is bleeding,” Thad said, his tone revealing he was aching to hear what was really going on.

  Nathaniel knew that neither of his friends would press him on the matter.

  This was the difference between men and women. Men did not press each other for information. They merely took in what was offered and gave an appropriate response. Women took in feelings. They would not stop asking questions until they’d wrung him dry.

  He marched upstairs, leaving a now recovering Gordon in the care of his friends.

  On the way up, he ordered his butler to send word to the Plimptons to come to Sherbourne Manor at once. “It is not a request. It is a command. Make certain they understand.”

  He strode down the hall to his room, but paused when he noticed Poppy’s door was open. Goose and Penelope were fussing over her while she dunked a cloth into a basin. She squeezed the water out of it and began to wipe it across her hands. He thought of Lady Macbeth’s scene as she was driven mad from the gore of so many murders.

  Poppy was no Lady Macbeth, but she was obviously troubled by the way he’d handled matters. Or rather, by the way she felt he’d lost control of matters. “I’d like to speak to Poppy, alone,” he said, stopping in her doorway and folding his arms across his chest for no purpose other than he didn’t want to reach out and take her into his arms.

  She would rebuff him.

  She loathed him at the moment.

  He wasn’t proud of himself, either. But he would not have done anything differently. Andrew Gordon had proved himself to be more dangerous than even he realized. “I’m not giving you a choice. I will speak to Poppy alone whether she wishes it or not. Get out, Penelope. And you, Goose.”

  They waited for Poppy’s nod before walking out.

  Nathaniel closed the door behind them.

  “You shouldn’t be in here, Nathaniel.”

  “I know. But there’s no one here to tattle and ruin you.”

  She did not look convinced. “And what will you do if word gets out you and I were alone in my bedchamber? Marry me? I don’t need you doing me any favors.”

  Of course, he’d marry her. It didn’t require a conversation. He’d never allow any harm, whether physical or mere gossip, to befall Poppy. “I warned you to keep away from that snake.” He knew he was pouring oil onto an already kindled fire, but he no longer cared. The sight of Poppy alone with Andrew Gordon still had his stomach twisted in knots.

  “I was about to do just that when you came charging down upon us.” She wiped the damp cloth along the slender curve of her neck. “I wasn’t entertaining him. Captain Gordon must have hopped over the stone wall as a shortcut to the manor house. He came upon me as I was reading under the shade tree. He arrived mere moments before you did. Perhaps he’d been there longer and waited for Penelope and Goose to leave. They were out there with me for most of the time. There, you now have my explanation. Not that I owe you one.”

  She turned away to dunk the cloth into her basin and then began to run it along the curve of her jaw.

  “Let me do it,” he said in a raw whisper, taking the cloth from her grasp. “You also have a little blood in your hair.”

  She didn’t protest. “Oh, Nathaniel. Why did you do it?”

  “He was the one who went to the orphanage looking to expose the secret of Miss Billings’ lineage. He forged my calling card. He forged my handwriting in a letter designed to gain access to sensitive records. He probably disguised his handwriting on the letters you and Lavinia received. Who knows what else he’s forged and how many other secrets he’s found out? I’m sure he asked questions about the other girls at the orphanage while he was there. What better place to dig for secrets but where those of the Upper Class hide their mistakes?”

  Poppy’s anger seemed to fade as he spoke, and her expression turned thoughtful. “And the headmistress?”

  Nathaniel gently dabbed the cloth across her cheek. “She is either the cleverest monster who has ever lived or she’s an angel. I think it is the latter. The girls are well cared for. They smile and are not afraid of strangers. She appears to be tirelessly devoted to them.”

  He also dabbed at Poppy’s lips, wishing to bend down and kiss them, but Poppy was still overset. He wasn’t that much of an idiot to think he could kiss her into forgiveness when he still had a lot of explaining to do.

  He took a deep breath and continued. “I think he’s also blackmailing Charlotte.”

  “What?” She shook her head as though uncertain she’d heard him correctly. “Because you had relations with her?”

  “It could have been with me. I won’t deny it. But it was before…” He couldn’t very well say it was before he’d met Poppy because he’d known the girl forever and had only started paying close attention to her a few days ago. “I wasn’t the first. She wasn’t… the point is, I was in a bad way. I…” His voice trailed off again. “I’m not going to marry Charlotte, but neither do I wish to see her hurt. Nor do I wish Lavinia to be hurt. But there’s one very important thing you should know.”

  “And what is that important thing?”

  “Lavinia isn’t Felicity’s mother.”

  Poppy’s mouth gaped open. “Are you certain?”

  He nodded. “My grandfather, at Lavinia’s tearful urging I expect, stepped forward to protect the child. No doubt, he was also protecting Lavinia’s friend who carried the child. You and I need to sit down with her to learn the full story. But I think I’ve figured out most of it.”

  He still held the damp cloth in his hand and resumed rubbing it ever so lightly across Poppy’s cheek. Lord, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

  Her eyes grew wide as saucers. “Your aunt’s best friend was Lady Plimpton. Oh, how stupid of me! How did I not notice the resemblance sooner? But why summon Lord Plimpton as well?” She began to nibble her lip and fret. “The secret could destroy their marriage.”

  “I have no intention of revealing the secret to either of them. All they need to know is he attempted to forge my signature. That ought to be enough to ensure their worthless nephew is sent away. Far away. Banished from England for the rest of his life.”

  “Do you think Lady Plimpton will know we’ve found out the truth?”

  “I hope not.” He ran a hand raggedly through his hair. “I don’t wish her to feel scared or humiliated whenever she sees us. If it does come up, I’ll leave it to you to assure her the secret is safe with us.”

  He handed her back the cloth and was about to turn away when Poppy put a hand on his arm. “I’m glad you were able to find all this out before anyone was hurt. Other than her rat of a nephew, of course. How is he?”

  “I didn’t kill him or permanently maim him. Men such as he always recover.” He frowned. “I’ll bring the Plimptons into my study and tell them vaguely of his blackmail schemes. I won’t mention the orphanage. I won’t mention any names. It will be enough to let them know he used my good name for his nefarious purposes.”

  Poppy’s shoulders sagged.

  He took her into his arms. “Poppy, I’m sorry. For everything.”

  She rested her head against his chest and nodded. “So am I. Let’s take care of this blackmail matter and then I’m going to move in with Beast and Olivia. Perhaps I’ll go home instead. They’re still newly married, and I don’t want to impose on their privacy. They’ll be polite and say they don’t mind. But they will. Yes, I think I had better go home.”

  “Poppy, no. I know I behaved like a raging arse, but surely you understand why.”

  “I do. And I’m proud of the way you are protecting Lavinia and her dear friend. But I don’t think I can do this, Nathaniel. I can’t be here when Charlotte, her
father, and your Society friends arrive. They won’t want me here either.”

  “They won’t stay long. They’ll be gone after this weekend. I don’t want you to leave.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I was determined to fight for you. I wanted you to notice me. I wanted you to fall in love with me. But your world is so very different from my own. Yours is one of secrets and elegant facades. Appearances are everything, even to you. Appearances are everything, no matter who is hurt.”

  “How have I hurt anyone?” He tipped her chin up so her gaze would meet his, but she refused to look him squarely in the eyes. “Surely, you can’t be siding with Andrew Gordon.”

  “Of course not. This isn’t about him.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s about him and my determination to pound him into dust. It’s about Charlotte and my casual dalliance with her. Look at me, Poppy. How do you think Thad or Beast or I survived the war? By behaving like gentlemen? Out on the battlefield, it is kill or be killed. Protect your own. Trust your friends to watch your back. It is no different when an enemy attempts to destroy you in your own home. I will never allow anyone to hurt my family. I will fight. I will kill to protect those I love. Had I truly been ruthless with him, Andrew Gordon would be dead. I knew what I was doing.”

  “You were out of control.”

  “I was fully in control. He’s alive because I allowed him to be.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck in frustration. “I purposely held back. I was pulling my punches. I needed to convey a message, one he would never forget. Hurt my family and I will destroy you.”

  “What would you have done if he were a woman?”

  He released her and took a step back to stare at her in surprise. “What? I’ve never raised a hand to any woman. Obviously, I would have responded differently. I’ve never been in a fight outside of the battlefield until today. I never even threw a punch during those stupid taproom brawls when Thad, Beast, and I were younger. How can you think I’d ever hurt a woman? Poppy, do you think I’d ever hurt you? Never you.”