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

by Meara Platt

  She grinned when they emerged from the grove of trees not thirty seconds later, for Anne had a tell-tale blush on her cheeks and her fichu was now in her hand instead of primly covering her bodice.

  Malcolm placed Anne’s arm in his as he approached them. “Lord Wycke, I’d like a word with ye.”

  “Oh, Thomas. Please do listen to him,” Anne pleaded when her brother frowned.

  Wycke glanced at his sister and then at Malcolm. “Not now.” By his tone, one got the impression he meant ‘not ever’. But Malcolm was having none of it.

  “I’ve asked yer sister to marry me. And now I’m here to ask for yer consent.” He stood as tall as an oak tree, his chin tilted upward in pride. “And let me assure ye, I only ask out of politeness because we shall soon be kin. Yer sister loves ye, so I’ll be happy to accept ye as my brother. But make no mistake, I’ll be marrying Anne with or without yer permission.”

  “Are all Scots daft?” Wycke turned to glower at the two earls, Caithness and Hume, who were now approaching.

  Penelope stood back as the two old men hugged Anne. “Ye’ll make a bonnie Caithness bride,” Malcolm’s granduncle exclaimed, lifting the girl in his arms and twirling her around to mark his consent. He then lifted Lady Wycke and gave her a twirl, although she was no light, little feather.

  Hume offered his hearty congratulations.

  Penelope did as well, but inside, she was as stunned as Wycke was. Where was the deep and abiding connection? How could the pair know within a matter of hours that they were a perfect match?

  Wycke obviously had the same doubts. “MacLauren,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Let’s take this inside. We need to speak privately.”

  To say matters remained tense was an understatement.

  They all returned to the house. The men gathered in Nathaniel’s study for the discussion—Wycke, Malcolm, Nathaniel, Beast, and the two Scottish earls were present. But the women were left out.

  “Isn’t my opinion important?” Anne remarked, her eyes tearing and chin beginning to wobble.

  Penelope, Lavinia, Anne, and her mother had gathered in Lavinia’s parlor to await the outcome while Poppy, Olivia, and Violet returned to entertain their guests who were still enjoying the day despite the earlier excitement.

  Penelope expected more excitement, for she knew there could only be one possible result of the men’s discussion. Malcolm and Anne would marry, it was only a question of when.

  Within the hour, the men strode out of the study.

  Malcolm strode straight to Anne. “Yer brother’s given his consent.”

  Anne gasped and turned to her brother with the brightest smile. “Thank you, Thomas.”

  He nodded, but did not smile back. “However, you will only marry after a six-month courtship. Those are my terms. If you are still determined to go through with this…folly, then you shall have my consent.”

  Penelope silently scoffed at the notion. Yes, it made sense to have them get to know each other better before entering a lifetime commitment, but those two were not going to wait to get their hands on each other.

  If a six-month courtship was required, their little bundle of joy would arrive three months after their marriage. Would anyone be surprised?

  The looks that pair tossed each other could light enough fires to keep a town warm during a blizzard.

  She wanted to question Wycke about the men’s discussion, but knew by his furious expression that he was not going to talk about his sister and that Scottish brute, as he obviously considered Malcolm.

  Did he think the same of Thad?

  She’d poke him in the nose if he dared utter an unkind remark about him. Thad was her Scottish brute and only she could… No, she would never berate Thad again. He was too wonderful. He’d saved her life.

  He could call her Loopy all he wished, and it would no longer rile her.

  That evening, Wycke sat to her left at supper and the Earl of Hume sat to her right. The Earl of Caithness sat across from her, frowning at her every time she dared converse with Wycke.

  Nathaniel was casting her curious glances, no doubt trying to decipher what was on her mind. Goose and Poppy did not look happy. She knew they adored Thad, and wouldn’t it be just perfect if Nathaniel and his friends wound up married to Penelope and her friends?

  Perhaps.

  She glanced at Malcolm and Anne. Oh, they looked like a couple in love. How could they know? Did love at first sight exist?

  Penelope picked at the venison on her plate while trying to imagine what marriage to Wycke would be like. Amiable and convenient, certainly.

  Marriage to Thad?

  Oh, Thad. He had the power to break her heart.

  Was it possible he loved her?

  Or was he in love with the convenience of having her by his side? Yet, how could it be convenient when she constantly vexed him?

  *

  Before heading down to breakfast the following morning, Penelope paused by the door of her own bedchamber which was presently occupied by Thad since the doctor had insisted it was safest not to move him.

  So many feelings flowed through her, she was almost afraid to see him. But as badly as she wished to avoid him, she was even more desperate to be in his company again.

  In truth, she craved it.

  Had she any sense, she’d agree to marry Wycke and forget all about the big, muscled ox occupying her bed.

  To be precise, the big, muscled Scot who’d taken over her bedchamber, which was the reason she’d spent the night in Lavinia’s bedchamber, sharing the right side of her aunt’s large bed with Periwinkle, who was not at all happy to have her occupying his space.

  She’d been jolted awake several times in the wee hours by his sniffing her. Yes, it’s still me. Still occupying your side of Lavinia’s bed. Get your wet nose out from under my nightrail.

  Were all males this dense?

  Thad certainly was.

  His idea of courtship was to fall atop her, tell her she smelled like food, and then ungracefully pass out.

  She could not possibly find his actions romantic or endearing.

  And yet…this was Thad.

  The same man who’d pulled her out of harm’s way and taken the full brunt of Monarch’s massive hooves to his shoulder. She shuddered, imagining his entire back was now black and blue from the stomping he’d taken while protecting her.

  This was the same man who’d ignored his wounds to make certain she was tended to first, which hadn’t been necessary since she was unharmed because of his quick actions.

  And then he’d consoled Pip.

  Oh, heavens! If that big oaf and Pip came down to breakfast wearing matching slings, her entire body would melt into a puddle.

  She took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop trembling. “Thad,” she said, ridiculously whispering through the door as though her voice would carry through the thick oak. She heard not a sound.

  Not a stirring.

  As she was debating whether or not to enter, Nathaniel came striding down the hall. He arched an eyebrow and frowned upon noticing her. “What are you doing, Penelope?”

  Her chin tipped up and she gave a huff. “It’s my bedchamber. Why shouldn’t I be in front of it?”

  “I don’t care that you’re in front of it.” His frown deepened. “I don’t want you inside with my laudanum-crazed friend, who’s probably still naked in your bed.”

  “That’s his problem, not mine. Besides, I’ve already seen him naked. Of course, I was an innocent child at the time, and you, Thad, and Beast were rowdy university boys swimming in nothing but your nature suits in the pond.”

  “That was almost a decade ago. You stole our clothes. I haven’t forgotten.” He eyed her warily. “You haven’t seen him naked since then, have you?”

  “Of course not. If you’re going to be so prim about it, then you ought to have given him one of your nightshirts to wear.” She turned the latch. “Thad, you’d better cover your hairy—”

>   “Gad, it’s barely past dawn and you’re already giving me headaches.” Nathaniel placed his hand over hers. “If you go in there, you’re coming out betrothed to Thad.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t intend to climb into bed with him. I just need to fetch a ribbon for my hair.”

  “I’ll see if Poppy has one to spare. I’m sure she has a dozen.”

  “Hah! Shows what you know about your wife. Poppy doesn’t wear ribbons in her hair. She tucks it up with clips and pins which you’d know if you were thinking about anything other than running your hot, little fingers through her unbound hair and… I can’t mention the rest. It’s too lewd.”

  Nathaniel threw up his hands and grunted in dismay. “Fine, go in. But if you do, you’re marrying him. Double wedding. Malcolm and Anne. You and Thad.”

  “Hah!”

  “Wycke and I will be right behind you, toting rifles pointed at those big Scots…and sacks of ammunition, although I doubt either of them will need much convincing. Not with loaded weapons aimed at their heads.”

  She was spared the need of a response when Thad suddenly opened the door. He was washed and fully dressed, obviously having had assistance. His arm was resting in a sling and he appeared to be in pain still, for lines of strain were etched into his handsome face.

  His eyes had a sleepy tilt to them.

  They were dark and hooded and steamy.

  Those wicked little butterflies in Penelope’s stomach began to rouse and flutter yet again.

  “Greville helped me,” Thad explained, noting her gaping mouth and grinning in response to her look of confusion. “Thank ye for sending him to me, Nathaniel.” He tucked a finger under her chin to close her mouth. “I’m feeling much better this morning. I’ll be off to meet my regiment right after breakfast and bring them here. We’ll camp along the stream behind Gosling Hall. I’ll be out of yer bedchamber within the hour, Loopy. Sorry about…falling on ye…and the rest of it.”

  She sighed. “Stay as long as you need. Periwinkle and I have become quite cozy. He’s sniffed me thoroughly.”

  Thad assumed this meant he had permission to sniff her, too. “Och, always delicious. Ye smell like a–”

  “Don’t you dare say it, you lout!”

  “–sausage patty.”

  She wanted to strike him, but she wasn’t that cruel. He was too badly injured and even the lightest touch would have brought him to his knees, writhing in pain.

  Nathaniel groaned and turned to walk off. “I’ll see you both downstairs.” But before he strode off, he mouthed the word ‘marry’ as though threatening her with a betrothal to Thad if she didn’t behave.

  She and Thad never behaved around each other.

  Why was this a surprise to her brother?

  Her gaze mellowed as she returned her attention to Thad. He had been injured saving her life and she would never forget his bravery.

  She blushed under the force of his stare.

  She stared back at him. Oh, he was big and magnificent. And he’d dressed in typical Thad fashion, which meant completely out of fashion. Once again, he’d neglected to don his vest, cravat, and jacket, so all she could see was the vast expanse of his elegant, white lawn shirt that hugged his rock-hard arms and broad chest.

  But she also noticed a bit of red leather peeking out from the sling used to hold his arm in place, and realized he’d taken The Book of Love for himself.

  “Is there a reason ye were standing outside my door?” he asked.

  “It’s my door.”

  He grinned at her. “Verra well, lass. Is there a reason–”

  “Ribbon.” She glanced down at herself. “I needed a sunflower yellow one to match my gown.” The fabric itself was a plain white dimity but trimmed in yellow silk at the edge of the sleeves and had a belt of matching yellow silk that circled her body just beneath her bosom. “Is there a reason you’re stealing that book from me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m reading it, lass. I won’t ride off with it, if that’s what concerns ye. What the author has to say is quite interesting. I read much of it last night.”

  “Oh, really? About the male lower brain and higher brain? Or did you not get beyond the lower brain function? Is this why you keep staring at my chest? Stop looking there. I’d appreciate it if you looked at my face. My body is no concern of yours. I refuse to be regarded as the fertile vessel into which to spill your seed.”

  “Don’t talk about yerself like that, Loopy. Ye know ye’re not that to me.” He glanced at the book, then withdrew it and handed it to her. “Ye ought to be the one reading it. Then ye might understand what you mean to me.”

  She took it grudgingly. “Oh, is that so? Then pray tell me, what am I to you?”

  “Everything,” he said quietly.

  She opened her mouth to toss back an indignant retort, but could find no words. She stood before him like a fool, her lungs filling with air. An eternity passed between them. Finally, she found her voice. “What did you just say?”

  “Ye heard me, lass.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Thad, do you mean it?”

  “I’m looking at all of ye. Don’t expect me to pretend I’m not lusting after yer glorious body. But it’s yer heart I’m truly after.” He took a step closer. “I may have gone about it badly.”

  “You think so?”

  It was impossible to overlook her sarcasm. “Fine, I went about it all wrong. But I never considered proposing to anyone else.”

  “Thad,” she said with an ache to her voice. “You haven’t proposed to me.”

  Lying to his kinsmen about their betrothal was not the same as declaring himself to her.

  He appeared startled, but then he nodded. “I’ll tell ye now.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Tell me? You think you’re going to tell me what to do?”

  “Blessed saints! Can ye for once not twist my words? I’m trying to ask ye to marry me.”

  “While we’re standing in the hallway?”

  “Is this not romantic enough for ye? Well, that’s too bad, lass. I may now be in line to inherit an earldom, but I’m still me. I won’t be donning silk breeches or powdered wigs. I won’t be reciting sonnets to yer beauty. Nor will I be asking ye again. Ye have my offer. Mull it over. When ye’re ready, give me an answer. But don’t take too long, for Caithness and Hume are not patient men. Nor is Castlereagh.” He started to walk away, then turned back. “Nor am I.”

  He stalked down the hall.

  She wanted to call him back, but her pride would not allow it. “You big, dumb Scot,” she muttered under her breath, entering her bedchamber to retrieve the ribbon that seemed inconsequential now. “I will not marry you to save your cowardly hide. I never want to see you again, Thaddius MacLauren.”

  She withdrew the ribbon from the drawer in her vanity, then peered in the mirror while she wound it neatly through her chignon. “Looks ridiculous.” She removed the clips and ribbon, hastily running her fingers through her curls as they tumbled around her shoulders and down her back.

  She was about to start again when she sensed someone standing at her door.

  Thad was back, filling the doorway with his broad shoulders.

  He was frowning.

  Was he taking back his proposal?

  “I’m still in pain, Loopy. I had a wretched night’s sleep. Will you forgive me for behaving like an arse just now?”

  She sighed. “If you forgive me. I also spent an uncomfortable night. Periwinkle was…” She shook her head and laughed. “I’m never sleeping with that pampered dog again. Thad, you shouldn’t be riding out this morning if you’re still in pain. It can’t be good for your shoulder.”

  “I’ll be all right.” He cast her an endearingly boyish grin. “Ye look beautiful, lass. I would recite sonnets to yer beauty, if I knew any. Ye should leave yer hair like that. But I didn’t return to talk about yer hair or ribbons or poems.”

  “Why did you come back?”

&nbs
p; “Because of something I neglected to do yesterday.” He strode forward and drew her into his embrace using his good arm. “This.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers, taking advantage that her lips were parted in surprise to gain entrance and give her a highly improper kiss that was unexpectedly gentle, and at the same time, typically impudent. For this was Thad, always filled with Scottish arrogance and unspoken challenge, and yet divinely tender and heartfelt.

  She leaned into his big, solidly muscled body, absorbing his heat and strength. He was tall, and the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. They shouldn’t have fit so perfectly together, but they did. His kiss was possessive, and yet it did not feel as though he was merely claiming her, but offering a piece of himself in return. In this moment, she wanted all of him.

  She could have him, too.

  All she needed to do was to accept his marriage proposal, but that would mean turning her heart over to him and trusting that he would never break it.

  He held such power over her, it frightened her.

  She carefully slid her arm up his chest, her palm tingling beneath the corded tension of his body. Heaven help me, he feels so good.

  He teased his tongue along her lower lip, and then slid it between her lips in a slow and sensual mating dance with her tongue.

  Oh, yes.

  The big Scot knew how to kiss her proper.

  Her eyes had closed the moment their mouths touched, allowing her to run through each sensation she’d read in The Book of Love. His touch, fiery. The taste of him, hot and delicious.

  She moaned against his mouth.

  “Loopy, I dinna want to let ye go.” Oh, the rugged sweetness of his deep, rumbling brogue.

  She kissed the freshly shaven line of his jaw, inhaling his scent of lather and musk.

  She drew back as he loosened his grip on her body and her eyes flitted open. She gasped, for what she saw in Thad’s eyes was raw, savage desire.

  He dropped his hand to his side, and then turned away. “Wait for me, lass. We’ll talk when I return.”

  He strode off.

  He’d return later in the day with his regiment.

  She wanted to follow him out, but couldn’t. Her entire body was limp and her legs felt buttery. Her hands shook and her heart beat so fast, she feared to swoon. The notion was ridiculous. Swoon over Thad?