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

by Meara Platt

  “Am I?” She gave a casual laugh that sounded forced even to her own ears. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  He grinned. “Lass, just come out with whatever it is ye’re thinking. Ye know I’ll get it out of ye sooner or later.”

  “It isn’t anything awful.” She sighed and shook her head. “In all the years you’ve joined us for holidays and term recesses, I never once thought to ask about your family. I simply thought of you as one of ours. How–”

  “Don’t.” Pain etched his features. “Don’t ask now.”

  “Why not?” She’d responded on impulse and realized too late that mentioning his brother and cousins was hurtful. They were part of the regimental ship, the one already a month overdue. He was mad with worry about them, the concern festering like a raw and gaping wound to his heart. “I’m so sorry. You don’t have to answer the question. Ignore it. Ignore me.”

  She stuck the platter out to him once more. “Scones?”

  “Aye, Loopy.” He grabbed another three and stuck them on his plate. But he didn’t eat them, just stared at them for a long moment. “It’s the delay,” he said in a ragged whisper. “The longer it goes on, the more I fear they’ll return in coffins.”

  She placed her hand on his arm, feeling as though she’d placed her hand on solid rock, for he was tense. “The war’s over. I pray it is merely a matter of logistics, of the burden of bringing home so many soldiers all at once. You Scots are a stubborn lot. Far too stubborn to come to harm. I’m sure it is nothing more than official complexities causing the delay.”

  He ran a hand through his hair that was a little too long and curling at the nape of his neck. “It’s disease I’m worried about. Men in close quarters under bad conditions.”

  “Scots are also a hardy lot. You’re raised on oats and that awful haggis. Your stomachs are cast iron.”

  He chuckled.

  She tossed him a gentle smile.

  He caught it and held it for an endless moment, gazing at her in a way that melted her insides. Thad? Melting her bones? Firing her blood? Impossible.

  She looked away. “Care for some tea?”

  He nodded, picking up one of the untouched scones on his plate and quickly washing it down with the tea. “I appreciate ye trying to cheer me, Loopy. But these wartime diseases are something awful. They can fell a man faster than a musket ball or a bayonet.” He turned to study her once again, but this time he was unsmiling. “This is not a conversation for us to be having. Tell me what ye’ve been doing since Nathaniel and Poppy’s wedding.”

  “Nothing particularly important or significant. Reading The Book of Love, of course.” She cast him a wry grin. “Trying to keep Pip out of mischief. An impossible task, by the way. Entertaining the occasional gentleman caller.”

  He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “You have a beau?”

  She felt a sudden heat to her cheeks and silently berated herself for blushing. “I wouldn’t quite call either of them that.”

  Now he appeared genuinely surprised. “More than one?”

  “Two gentlemen have paid me a visit since Nathaniel and Poppy’s wedding. Can you believe it? The Earl of Wycke and his sister stopped by a few days ago. And one of Nathaniel’s London friends, Lord Jameson, came around as well. Do you remember him? He joined us the same weekend Charlotte and her father were here.”

  “So did Wycke,” Thad remarked.

  She gave a mock shudder. “Good riddance to the duke and his daughter. Thank goodness Nathaniel regained his sanity in time.”

  Thad set down his scone. “What do ye think of him?”

  “Lord Jameson?” She scrunched her nose to mark her distaste. “I can’t take him seriously. He’s looking for an heiress and nothing more. His gaze is too assessing, his manner too fawning. He told me I was beautiful. He mentioned it repeatedly, as though trying to convince himself more than me.”

  Thad listened with interest. “Loopy, I know I give ye a hard time. But ye are a decent-looking lass. If ye weren’t always scowling at me, I might tell ye the same.”

  “What, that I’m beautiful?” She shook her head and laughed. “I think I’d suffer an attack of the vapors if you ever said anything that hinted of being a compliment.”

  He let out a genuinely lighthearted chuckle that rumbled deep within his chest. “Tell me more about Wycke.”

  She shrugged. “There isn’t much to say. He’s a gentleman. His sister is very nice, too. He doesn’t leer or ogle me, so that’s in his favor.”

  “Do ye like him, Loopy?”

  She glanced at The Book of Love. “Yes, of course I do. He’s quite pleasant.”

  “That’s a rousing affirmation.”

  She frowned at him. “Well, what am I supposed to say? We’ve chatted little more than once or twice. I don’t know him very well. It’s too soon to feel one way or the other about him. But I am inclined to think favorably of him.” She tipped her chin up, awaiting Thad’s challenge.

  She’d set her cap for Wycke. So what if there was no heat or aching passion between them yet? It signified nothing since she’d had no experience with passion and wouldn’t know what it felt like anyway. But this was her plan, to learn about it with someone safe. Namely, Thad. “Perhaps I’ll marry him. Assuming he asks me, of course.”

  Thad nodded. “A most sensible answer. Are ye judging a baking contest at the Wellesford annual fair, because it doesn’t sound like ye’re speaking of a potential husband. Inclined to think favorably? Does he make your heart skip beats? Does he sweep ye off your feet?” He made an irritating scoffing sound. “I speak with more passion about these raisin scones. Probably about my oatmeal porridge, too.”

  She leaped at the opening he’d given her. “Precisely my point. This is why I need you to teach me. How am I supposed to know about feelings for a man when I’ve had no experience? And who better to guide me than you? My brother trusts you. I trust you, even though you’re an annoying bee sting to my backside most days. The point is, I’m safe with you. We are not in love, so we are unlikely to do something stupid with each other. No improperly wanton urges to worry about.”

  He choked on his tea.

  “Are you all right?” She slapped him lightly on the back.

  Goodness, he was big and muscled everywhere.

  “I’m fine.” He nodded, but he was still coughing and his eyes were turning red and tearing. He took another sip of his tea as he struggled to calm his breaths. “I am not going to do anything improper with you.”

  “Isn’t this what I just said? It’s perfect. I’ll never have a moment’s worry as we explore the sensations that are supposed to enhance our connections to form deep and abiding bonds of love.” She reached for the book and opened it to the first chapter. “Love does not come from the heart but from the brain. It is the brain that sends signals throughout the body, telling you what to feel. Therefore, to stimulate a man’s arousal—”

  Thad put his big paw across her hand. “Skip that part. Yer brother and Beast told me all about the male’s lower brain function.”

  “We can’t skip it. This is what defines a man, the compelling need to mate with any female he deems fertile in order to spread his seed far and wide.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “I need to see your low brain function at work.”

  “It’s always at work.” He arched an eyebrow and cast her an irritating smirk. “I’m male, aren’t I?”

  Indeed, he was.

  Big and handsome and strong. Protective, too. Which had to explain the sudden tingle of recognition coursing through her body. Women had urges of their own, the book explained. She was eager to learn more about those. But the male urge was to sow his seed far and wide. However, not just any woman would do. His low brain made a quick assessment of every woman he encountered. Those deemed too old, too young, too sickly, were quickly dismissed.

  Those deemed fertile became the desired object of his attention.

  The female urge was to find the mate who would protect her and her childre
n, to choose the mate who would stay close to their home and fight off predators. Because if he abandoned her and their children, they would be left defenseless and eaten by wolves.

  She cleared her throat.

  He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something more. “Thad…”

  “Don’t ask me again, Loopy. We’re done with this conversation.”

  He still had his hand over hers. It felt warm and delicious. The pulse at the base of her throat spiked suddenly. She couldn’t make it stop. “Now that’s cleared up. Ahem. Yes, nothing more to be said on the topic. Let’s move on to the five senses.”

  She slipped her hand out of his and set the book aside a moment because she had one more question to ask him on the subject of his lower brain function. She hoped he would be honest about it. The answer was important to her. “Thad.”

  He groaned. “No, Loopy.”

  “But it’s at the heart of the matter. What do you see when you look at me? My…” She glanced down at her bosom before returning her gaze to his. “My…those attributes… Would you consider me a desirable female? And if so, what is it about me that you find desirable?”

  He was giving her that look again, the one where he appeared not to be breathing. “Pass me another scone.”

  She grabbed the platter and held it out of his reach. “Not until you answer my question. What do you see in me that makes me desirable?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s Wycke you have to convince.”

  “But you’re my test frog, and I have to know how you respond. Just be honest. It is only the physical attributes I’m interested in for now. I understand it signifies little beyond your low brain acceptance of me. Forget our years of friendship. And our years of butting heads. If you were seeing me for the very first time, what would your low brain assessment be of me?”

  “Loopy, stop fishing for compliments.”

  “I’m not. We are speaking of science, not romance.”

  “Then scientifically speaking…” He stared at her for what felt like an endless moment. “Och, lass,” he said with a soft ache to his voice. “Ye’re a most desirable female. An attractive vessel for any man’s seed.”

  “Including yours?”

  He groaned again, this time adding a roll of his eyes to mark his exasperation. “Ye’d be more desirable if ye passed me one of those scones ye’re cruelly holding out of my reach.”

  She stuffed one into his open mouth. “Why are you always so difficult? I only needed a yes or no.”

  He took a bite of the scone before setting it aside. “Then it must be a no.”

  “It must?” She didn’t know why she felt so disappointed. She’d always found him to be extremely handsome even when he irritated her, which he did almost all the time. She just assumed that he’d found her equally appealing. “Oh, I see.”

  She supposed it was safer if he had no feelings for her.

  Still, it hurt.

  Her eyes began to water, so she quickly turned away to blink back the tears now welling at their corners and threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Good heavens! He couldn’t ever see her cry over him.

  He sighed. “Bollocks, Loopy. Of course, ye’re beautiful. Of course, I’d be mad for ye if we were meeting for the very first time. What man wouldn’t be?”

  He took her hand and wrapped it in his. “How are we going to get through these tests if ye cry at every response?”

  “I’m not crying, you big, Scottish oaf.”

  “Ye’re breaking my heart, lass.” He ran his thumb across her cheek to rub away the moisture, but quickly drew it away once the task was accomplished.

  “I am?” She hastily dabbed at another stray tear before turning to him.

  He nodded. “I’d do anything not to see ye sad.”

  “Then you’ll help me?” She smiled when he emitted a light moan to signal his agreement. “Truly? But you must always be honest, even if it hurts my feelings. Honesty is most important. Shall we try again?”

  He shot her a look that warned it was a big mistake, so she braced herself for the answer she feared would be hurtful to her pride. But honesty was all that mattered. Besides, it would reinforce her argument that she was safe with Thad. He was never going to be swept up in wanton feelings for her or ache to hold her in his arms.

  “Och, lass. Honesty?” He raked a hand through his hair and his gaze turned surprisingly hot and smoldering. “If I saw ye for the very first time?” His voice was a gentle rumble. “I’d think I was looking upon an angel.”

  Her eyes widened and the breath caught in her throat.

  “But my wicked brain would quickly take over. I’d be looking at yer breasts and finding their fullness to my liking. Then I’d be looking at the rest of yer fine body and finding it equally pleasing. I’d be looking at yer lips and wanting to kiss them, wanting to feel their softness against my mouth. I’d want to wrap ye in my arms and have my way with ye.”

  Fertile female. Need to mate with her. Those were the words used in The Book of Love, but Thad was speaking to her in his deep, honeyed brogue, making her insides melt. On his lips, the words did not sound scientific at all, just deliciously seductive.

  Penelope cleared her throat and broke away from his torrid gaze. “The book describes the male brain as functioning on two levels, the low and the high. When a man’s brain is at its lowest functioning level, he is only thinking of sex. But it is a necessary function, for this is how he spreads his seed and populates the earth with his offspring.”

  She turned to him, saw his gaze was still hot enough to melt her insides, and quickly glanced at the book again. “This is the importance of the question I asked you. What do you see when you look at me? By your description, I think you would find me to be a suitably fertile female.”

  She felt his grin, but refused to look up. “I think your assessment is that I’d be among the women with whom you’d choose to mate.”

  He gave a choking laugh. “Loopy! I know ye don’t think much of me, but I’m no hound. Among the women with whom I’d mate? There’ll only be one for me. That’ll be my wife. And I’ll be marrying her as soon as I return to Caithness.”

  “You have a sweetheart? In the Highlands?” Her heart sank straight down to her toes. When would he have met her since he’d been away fighting on the Continent all these years? Perhaps an arranged marriage to a girl he hardly knew. “I didn’t realize. Will you marry her before the year is out?”

  “Lass, what business is it of yours? Why should you care?” His expression sobered. “But it’s time. Beast is now married. So is yer brother. We’d thought to have a little fun when we got home. Sow a few more wild oats. In truth, our hearts weren’t in it.”

  Penelope held back a sigh of despair. Thad with a sweetheart? It wasn’t fair of her to resent it, but she wasn’t ready to share him with anyone else just yet.

  “England is finally at peace, lass. Who knows for how long? What we three quickly realized we needed, despite our bravado, was the love of a good woman. Someone to hold in our arms each night. Someone to bear our bairns and make us a family.”

  He placed his hand over hers. “Ye needn’t worry. Beast found his Goose. Nathaniel found his Poppy. But I know we are not meant to be. So, I’ll help ye with Wycke, but ye must be honest with yourself. Don’t force yer heart to feel something it cannot feel for him or ye’ll be unhappy for the rest of yer life.”

  She merely nodded, too overcome to speak without her voice shaking.

  Why was he suddenly so wise and tender?

  Had he always been this way, and she’d just never bothered to notice? “Thad, promise me you’ll do the same. Don’t settle for just anyone. She must be perfect. Kind and gentle, and genuinely caring for you.”

  He regarded her as though she’d suddenly grown two heads.

  But she was undaunted. “Promise me, Thad. Please.”

  Who was this girl?

  Tears threatened to fall again, but she fought them back. Why was
she suddenly so overset he’d found someone to love?

  Could it be because it wasn’t her?

  Chapter Three

  “What are ye going on about, Loopy? Why should ye care if I have a sweetheart or not?” Thad muttered, wishing Pip would come along and drop a spider in their midst to break up their conversation. “Ye’ve already said ye have no wish to marry me.”

  “I don’t.” But she had her chin tipped up in indignation and was casting him a fiery look that would burn a lesser man to cinders.

  “Then my love life is irrelevant.” He didn’t have one anyway. No sweetheart. No mistress. No casual dalliances. Just an ache in his heart for this fiery, sharp-tongued girl who would never have him. “So let’s get on with this test frog business. Read me the chapter about the five senses.”

  Not that he wanted to continue, but he didn’t have the strength to break away. Where was that devil-child when one needed him?

  And where were his friends? Nathaniel should have noticed his arrival and joined them by now. Sherbourne Manor was his home, after all. Beast was often in London these days, so it was possible he’d left Goose behind at Gosling Hall while he ran around on official Crown business.

  “Each sense has its own chapter,” she said, breaking into his thoughts and regaining his attention. “Shall we start with the sense of sight?”

  “Whatever you suggest.” He glanced around. “And speaking of sight, I haven’t seen Nathaniel yet. Where is he?”

  “He and Beast rode to Coventry early this morning, but they’ll be back in time for supper.”

  “And where is Lavinia? I’m sorry, lass. I should have asked earlier.” Stumbling across Loopy in nothing but a wet chemise still had his senses in a wild tumble. The incident had occurred over an hour ago, but his body had yet to cool down.

  Hah.

  His blood was on fire, and if the blasted girl refused to stop talking about physical attributes and shoving The Book of Love at him, he was going to behave like a low brain specimen and do something very, very foolish.

  And now they were to speak about the sense of sight. What more could he say?