by Meara Platt
She liked the way his thumb was making a lazy swirl against her cheek. She liked standing beside him. Mostly, she liked the idea of kissing him…perhaps too well.
Heavens, was he really going to do it? “I wish to, Thad.”
He cast her a gentle smile. “Come along then. I don’t want anyone watching us. Or interrupting us while I give ye a proper first kiss.”
Her knees felt as though they were about to buckle.
Her bones began to melt.
A proper kiss. Yes, this handsome Scot would know how to do it proper. Could she hold herself together long enough for him to complete the task? “What makes you think it’s my first?”
He shook his head and laughed. “Isn’t it?”
Heat rose in her cheeks and spread across her face to the tips of her ears. “Yes, but don’t you dare make fun of me about it.”
His expression suddenly sobered, and he regarded her with a tenderness she’d rarely seen in him. “Nay, lass. I’m honored ye’ve allowed me to be yer first.”
“It had to be you, Thad. It couldn’t have been anyone else.”
He nodded.
“Will you give me a second kiss, too?”
“I’m at yer service, lass. As many as ye wish.”
*
Lord, help him!
Did all sense leave him every time this girl stood near him?
As many kisses as she wished? What idiot would give such an answer? He doubted he could contain himself with one, but to offer her more? Och, if he allowed his low brain function to take over, he’d have her naked with him in the water, the two of them spawning like frenzied salmon.
Of course, Nathaniel would shoot him.
He’d load the weapon to be used against him and hand it to Nathaniel himself.
He shouldn’t have taken her by the hand and offered to kiss her.
Blessed saints! Her eyes were already closed and her face was tipped up in expectation of this monumental event.
He took her into his arms and ran his thumb lightly across her lips to ease the tension in them, for they were tightly pursed. “Smile, lass. This won’t hurt.”
“Thad…” She looked ready to cry.
He was experienced and yet still scared. She had to be terrified.
There was too much history between them for it not to mean something. For him, it was petty jealousy. She wanted Wycke.
He wasn’t happy about it, but so be it.
Wycke would offer for her, was there a doubt? Who wouldn’t fall in love with Loopy?
He refused to consider what else Wycke might do to her once they were married.
But Wycke was not getting her first kiss.
That would be his to treasure.
He cupped her face in his hands. Beautiful face. Face of an angel. He closed his eyes and kissed her gently. Well, he’d meant to be gentle, but he was swept up in a maelstrom of desire the moment his lips touched hers. He crushed his mouth to hers and wrapped his arms around her to draw her up against his body.
She responded by sliding her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer.
Lord, she’s soft.
He felt the give of her breasts against the solid wall of his chest.
“Thad…my heavens.” Her whispered moan undid him.
He lifted her into his arms and deepened the kiss, pouring every memory, every yearning ache, every smile, into it. Every sweet moment of laughter. The fullness of his heart and the joy she gave him. All of him, into this one kiss.
It should have meant little to him…a kiss as a favor to his friend’s sister. A kiss meant to be an experiment and nothing more. Mother in heaven. It meant everything to him. Penelope. This girl. There was no one like her.
She had the spirit to kick the chair out from under him and the heart to show him more kindness and care than anyone alive.
He didn’t want to give her up. She was his heart’s desire.
How does an oaf like me win this girl?
He wanted to be the one to guide her, to arouse her unexplored passion. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to sensations of love she’d never experienced before. He wanted to touch her and breathe her in. Strawberries and lavender. He felt a raw, savage need to know her in every sense, to cup her lush breasts and hold them in the fullness of his hands.
To claim her body as only a husband should.
He wanted to marry her.
He wanted her forever.
He felt the fire building inside of him and knew they’d reached a danger point. He had to draw away. End the kiss.
But he couldn’t let go. It had nothing to do with the hot need to explore her body. Aye, he wished to do that. Not for a mere afternoon.
He wanted a lifetime.
This girl was in his soul.
Sweat beaded across his forehead.
His shirt was damp.
He felt along Loopy’s body. Her gown was damp as well. From the heat of the day or his fiery torment? Or was she experiencing a fire of her own?
Neither one of them would break off the kiss to ask. Neither one would let the other go. This was truly madness. In another moment, he’d strip her out of her gown and set her down on the soft, grassy earth to… Lord help him, he wanted to settle his big body over her and bury himself inside of her.
Low brain function out of control.
“Thad! Thad! You have a letter!” He recognized Pip’s high-pitched shouts piercing the fog of his desire.
The boy continued to call his name, now louder as he drew closer.
Thad groaned as he ended the kiss and stepped away from Loopy. “Och, lass. Let me help ye. I’ve made a mess of ye with my big, oafish hands.”
She let him.
The realization struck her as well. Her cheeks turned fiery. “I…”
“It’s all right, lass. Neither of us was thinking, were we?” Her hair had come undone, the pins falling out as he’d plunged his fingers in her silken locks. The bodice of her gown was… “Let’s tuck… I dinna mean to… Yer lacing, let me. I can tie it faster.”
“Thad! Thad!” Pip called again, now closer.
Penelope put her hands to her hair and sighed in dismay the moment he’d righted the bodice of her gown. “He’ll notice I’m still a mess. My braid is undone. Where are my pins?” She fell to her knees and began to feel along the grass. “Here are three.” She hopped up and quickly drew her hair back and began to wrap it atop her head. “Help me, Thad. There isn’t time to redo the braid. I’ll just put it up. Stick the pins in. Quick!”
He stuck them in the best he could, then without thinking, he kissed the exposed arch of her neck. “Mo cridhe,” he whispered.
“It’s Celtic. What does it mean?”
“Thad! Where are you?” Pip was upon them now.
Thad stepped away from Loopy as the boy burst into the copse. He moved in front of her to give her another moment to put herself together. “Over here, lad. What is it?” He strode out from among the trees and led the boy toward the fallen log under the large oak.
The Book of Love was sitting closed on the trunk where he’d left it. He picked it up and tucked it securely under his arm before Pip could get his hands on it. He doubted the lad would toss it into the water as a prank, but one could never be sure what was going through Pip’s active mind.
“Nathaniel sent me down here to fetch you,” he said between gulps of air as he struggled to catch his breath. “A messenger with a letter from a man with a castle came for you.”
Thad’s heart began to pound. “Castlereagh?”
Pip nodded.
He took off at a run, book in hand. He ought to have waited for Loopy, or at least returned the book to her, but he would leave it in Soames’s safekeeping. The butler could be trusted to keep it safe for the next few minutes.
He tore into the house and burst into Nathaniel’s study. Beast was there as well.
“Nathaniel?”
“Here, it looks official. Shall we give you privacy?”<
br />
Thad nodded.
Beast slapped him on the shoulder. “We’re here if you need us.”
They were his best friends, and he had no secrets from them. But if the news was bad, he did not want anyone watching him fall apart, not even these men he trusted with his life. His hands shook as he opened the letter. It contained a few simple lines. The Greys to remain in France. Return to London for your orders. Funeral services to be performed here before burial in Caithness.
He felt ill.
Who had died? More than one officer since services was the plural. His brother and both his cousins were officers in the regiment. Typical of Castlereagh to ignore the most important details. He crushed the note in his hand and crossed the study to open the door.
He’d leave within the hour.
“Thad?”
Penelope had just walked into the house. The Book of Love was now in her hands. Good, Soames had returned it to her safekeeping. “Not now, Loopy. I have to pack for London.”
She followed him as he continued across the hall and up the stairs. “For how long? What happened?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Funerals is all Castlereagh mentioned.”
Her hand went to her throat. “Oh, Thad. Is there anything we can do?”
“No. I’ll send word once I learn more. I may not be back in time for Goose’s party. Wish her happy birthday for me, and…” A jolt of raw pain shot through his chest. “Good luck with Wycke. He’s a fool if he doesn’t offer for you by the end of the week.”
He didn’t wait for Loopy’s response.
He didn’t want polite thanks for his good wishes.
He had no wish to see her happy with another man. He wanted Loopy for himself. But that wasn’t going to happen, not when he’d likely be ordered back to France or up to Caithness to bury his kin. Was his brother among the dead? His cousins?
He felt her gaze bore into his back, but he refused to turn around. Looking at Loopy would only break his heart, the little of it that wasn’t already torn to pieces. Mo cridhe. He’d let those words slip out after kissing her.
She didn’t know what they meant, but Pip’s governess was Scottish and would know. Loopy had only to ask her.
Mo cridhe.
My love.
Chapter Six
Thad noticed the tears streaming unabashedly down Loopy’s face as she watched him lead Thor out of the stables. His saddlebags had already been secured and all that was left to do was bid farewell to his friends.
It saddened him that he might not see them again for years.
Perhaps never again.
The lass was not alone in watching him, for all the Sherbournes as well as Beast and Goose were here to see him off. “Stay at my townhouse,” Beast offered. “Aunt Matilda is in residence and she has a full staff in place to take care of you. It’ll be more comfortable than a regimental barracks.”
“Thank ye, I might take ye up on the offer.”
Nathaniel stepped forward. “Same here. Anything you need, just ask my man of affairs in London and he’ll see it is done.”
“I will,” he said with a grateful nod before turning to the others. He kissed Goose, Poppy, and Lavinia, and ruffled Pip’s hair. “Remember, lad. Take it slow. You and Monarch have to get to know each other before ye attempt any tricks. It isn’t only a matter of keeping ye safe, it’s Monarch’s safety at risk as well.”
Pip cast him an earnest nod. “I will. I’ll take good care of him.”
He ruffled Pip’s head again. “Good lad.” He bent down and gave him a hug.
He lifted Periwinkle in his arms and gave him a light rub on the belly. “Ye take good care of Loopy,” he whispered before patting him on the head and handing him back to Lavinia.
Then there was no one left but Loopy.
Before he could figure out what to say, she threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Thad! Take care of yourself. Write to us. Let us know what’s happening.”
He took her into his embrace, his heart swelling with an onslaught of feelings he dared not show. “I will, lass.”
“We packed some meat and fruit for you, and a few scones. We know you’ll be hungry on the journey.”
He chuckled. “I’m always hungry.” Mostly for the angel in his arms, but food was the next best thing if he couldn’t have Loopy with him on the ride to London. She was using ‘we’, but he knew that any comforts provided were all her doing. She’d always been thoughtful in this way, even as a little girl. Her letters. Her handmade gifts and drawings.
He eased her out of his arms. “Life will be dull without ye.”
She smiled at him and nodded. “You look so handsome in your uniform. Stay safe, Thad. Send for us if you feel the need for family around you.”
“I will, lass.” He gave her one last hug, a quick peck on her soft cheek, and then mounted Thor. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest. He wanted to say more to her, but the words caught in his throat.
He merely nodded to them all.
Loopy was still crying.
He couldn’t bear to see her sad.
Neither could Poppy and Goose, it seemed. They moved to stand beside her. It eased his heart to know her friends would look after her.
Soon, Wycke would be the one to look after her.
He rode off before anyone noticed the watery glisten in his own eyes.
His ride was uneventful save for a quick downpour in the middle of the day. Fortunately, he’d stopped to rest Thor at one of the roadside inns outside of Oxford. Thor was already in the stable, being fed and watered when the worst of the rain arrived. As for himself, he was comfortable and dry, seated alone in the inn’s taproom nursing a pint of ale while listening to the patter of raindrops and the whistle of the wind against the windows.
Pick-pock. Pick-pock. Pickety-pock.
He rose once the downpour was over. The rain had trickled to a light mist that followed him the rest of the way to London. The ground was muddied, so he’d had to ride slower than he’d liked, delaying his arrival. By the time he entered the sprawling city, it was too late to call upon Lord Castlereagh. He left their meeting for tomorrow and made his way to Beast’s townhouse. Lavinia had given him a letter to bring to Beast’s aunt, the dowager Duchess Matilda, and he would sooner disobey an order from Castlereagh than disappoint Lavinia.
Also, once Castlereagh got his hands on him, there might be no time to call upon Beast’s aunt. He did not wish to leave the letter to just any messenger. Although it contained no important government secrets, it was his last connection to those he considered as close as family.
Matilda was at home when he arrived.
He’d intended to deliver the letter and then ride to the regimental barracks, but the grand lady would not hear of it. “You’ll stay here, of course.”
She ordered Beast’s staff to take his saddlebags up to his guest quarters as soon as the room was made ready. After washing the dust of travel off himself and changing out of his uniform, which was taken by one of the butlers to be cleaned and pressed, he went downstairs and was shown to Matilda’s elegant, private parlor by yet another butler. “I’ll let Her Grace know you’ve come down.”
He was offered refreshments which he gladly accepted, for he hadn’t eaten in hours. He was thirsty, too. The long ride had left his throat parched. He settled in one of the elegant silk chairs and glanced around as he casually sipped an expensive wine out of an even more expensive crystal glass. Beast was Duke of Hartford, and although he’d never once made Thad feel inferior, there was no overlooking the wealth and power that came with the title.
The furniture and furnishings even in Matilda’s private parlor were all museum pieces. The vases, the paintings, the silk chairs, and fireplace mantelpiece. The carpet and wall tapestries. All were the finest a duke’s blunt could provide. Beast’s entire townhouse was furnished with exquisite antiques.
Same could be said of Nathaniel. He was Earl of Welles and possessed a vast e
state and homes as fine as Beast’s.
Indeed, everywhere Thad looked, he was reminded of all he lacked. He did not care about it for himself, but this difference in wealth and status was a stark reminder that Loopy was better off without him. She’d be Lady Wycke soon, lady of another fine estate.
His home in Thurso was a drafty, stone manor attached to a fallen-down-rubble-of-an-ancient fortress. He was blood relative to the Earl of Caithness on his father’s side, but he knew little of his mother’s side. After his mother had died in childbirth, something for which he was solely to blame, Caithness and her family had feuded.
He’d been a mere babe and only learned bits and pieces of what had transpired from his brother and cousins. They’d been young as well and could only relate snippets of the gossip they’d overheard, some of it quite cruel. He’d long since stopped listening to any of it. He had no idea what was truth and what was a fishwife tale.
What he did know was that the Hume clan’s territory was in the Scottish Lowlands. To a proud Highlander like the Earl of Caithness, that was reason alone to pick a fight. Thad didn’t know which earl had started the feud, probably both were to blame, for that seemed to be the prideful, Scottish way, hate the other clans unless you unite to hate the English. It had been this way for centuries.
In any event, it no longer mattered to him. Whatever the reason, the fact remained, he’d never met the Earl of Hume who was his only surviving grandfather. Now that he was an adult, it was too late for him to form fond childhood memories with Hume or any of his mother’s clan.
Nor would there be any formed in his adult life, for Hume had never attempted to contact him. As far as the earl or any of his clan was concerned, he simply did not exist.
“Thad, dear boy. Have you settled in comfortably?” Matilda swept in with regal dignity, the short train of her gray silk gown held in one hand as she held out her other bejeweled hand for him to bow over it.
“I have, Your Grace. Thank ye for the hospitality.”
“Always a pleasure to see you. What brings you to London?”
“Business with Lord Castlereagh. But I’m too late to call upon him this evening. I appreciate your allowing me to stay here.”