by Meara Platt
He suddenly tensed. Good heavens! He was a dolt. He ought to have read at least a passage out of it before purchasing it for her. What if the book was all about the act of making love? The various positions. The exotic accessories one might… bollocks! He’d never hear the end of it from Nathaniel and Thad.
“Goose, let me have a look at it.”
He reached for the package but she shrank back and clasped it to her bosom. “You are not taking it from me.”
He ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I won’t… well, perhaps I will. You see, its contents might not be what you think. There might be drawings… unseemly ones. And language that an innocent such as yourself should not… hell, Goose. Give me the book.”
“No. Are you blushing?” She gave a sincerely hearty laugh. “I never thought I’d live to see the day. This is priceless. You ought to see the look on your face.”
“Give me the book. I will not be accused of corrupting your morals. You are an innocent.”
She tipped her chin up in defiance. “Perhaps, but I am not a child.”
“Indeed, you are not. Your body proves that.”
Her eyes widened and she gasped. “You noticed?”
She seemed delighted rather than appalled. He was horrified that he’d allowed the thought to slip out. “I may have only one functioning eye at the moment, but I see very well out of it. You are not sufficiently wise to the ways of the world to be trusted with that book.”
She was smiling at him now, a big, dimpled smile. Obviously, she found his consternation quite amusing. But her humor lasted only a moment and she turned thoughtful once more. “Beast, did it hurt very much when you lost your eye? Does it still hurt?”
“It did at first. But it isn’t lost for certain. It may heal in time and I’ll have some of my vision back. For the last question, no. It does not hurt me any longer.”
“I’m glad.” Her lips quivered and her eyes turned watery as though she was struggling to hold back tears. For him?
Well, despite her impertinence, she’d always had a tender heart. Ridiculously tender at times. He thought back to the long-ago summer before he’d gone off to fight in the war. He, Nathaniel, and Thad had decided they needed a swim in the pond at Sherbourne Manor. The day had been particularly hot, so they’d strolled down to the crystal pool, a trio of arrogant university boys who thought nothing of taking off their boots and clothes, and jumping naked into the water.
The girls had been ten years old at the time and were supposed to be napping or doing whatever genteel task young girls were supposed to do at that time of the day. But they must have slipped out of the house. Not surprising, for they were often up to mischief. Whatever the reason, the little nuisances came upon them cavorting in the water. Thankfully, the water hid much of their bodies from view. But another moment or two and they would have been caught bare-arsed on the shore.
Their nakedness left them at a disadvantage.
The girls took immediate advantage. Penelope and Poppy had thought it great fun to run off with Thad and Nathaniel’s clothes, leaving only their boots behind. Goose hadn’t the heart for such mischief and left his clothes exactly where he had dropped them. He’d waded out of the pond once the girls had run off only to find his trousers, shirt, vest, and cravat meticulously folded in a neat pile next to his boots.
Her way of repaying him for saving her life, no doubt.
He’d dressed and gone back to the main house to retrieve clothes for his friends. Poppy and Penelope had been sent to their rooms without supper, and Goose–being Goose–had gone upstairs with them in a show of support, even though it meant she would also forfeit her supper.
Bollocks, the girl was maddening.
His carriage suddenly jerked to a halt, reminding him they’d traveled through the Strand, skirted along the park, and had now arrived at the Gosling townhouse off Audley Street. Goose hopped out of the carriage the moment his footman opened the door and lowered the steps, no doubt hoping to make it into her house with that wretched book before he could stop her.
He caught up to her in two strides.
“Oh, Beast,” she said with an exasperated huff. “I promise not to read it if it’s lewd. There, are you satisfied? Do stop fussing or you’ll draw my guardian’s attention to this very book that you’re hoping no one will see. You’ll just have to trust me.”
He growled softly in displeasure.
“Stop frowning at me. Do you know you resemble a lion when you frown? And do stop growling at me, too. It only proves my point. You are a lion.”
She had a way of talking to him that he’d never allow from anyone else. Lion, indeed! “Very well, keep the book. But you will join us at Sherbourne Manor for the week. You’ll ride out with Penelope and Poppy in Nathaniel’s carriage.” He picked her up to move her out of the way, for she’d strategically set herself between him and the front door.
The Gosling butler opened it to let them in.
Beast strode in. “Where is Lord Gosling?”
“In his study, Your Grace. I shall let him know at once that–”
“I’ll announce myself. I know the way.” He’d been familiar enough with this house in his younger days. Little had changed. “Gosling, I’d like a word with you.”
He strode into the study, ignoring the man’s open-mouthed look of surprise, and shut the door before Goose had a chance to follow him in. This was between him and her odious guardian. The man needed to know he was back in town and would be watching him. If he dared raise a hand to the girl, he’d strike him dead. “My aunt requests the company of your ward at Sherbourne Manor this week.”
There was no need to explain who his aunt was, everyone knew Matilda, Duchess of Hartford, one of Society’s most powerful matrons. “The Earl of Welles will have his carriage brought around tomorrow morning at ten o’clock precisely to pick her up and bring her there.”
“Really, Hartford! This is too much. You can’t just barge in here and expect me to give Olivia over to you.” But his eyes turned beady, as though considering what he could gain by doing just that. “She has appointments. Obligations. It will cost me dearly to get her out of them.”
He arched an eyebrow. By God, was the man putting her up for auction to the highest bidder? “Cost you? How?”
“In good will, of course. That’s all. I meant nothing more by it.”
Beast knew he was lying, for Gosling was beginning to sweat and fidget. “Then I’m certain everyone will understand when you explain the change in plans.”
“It isn’t possible!”
He leaned across Gosling’s desk, his gaze fierce and unforgiving. “Reschedule them.”
“But… but… Lord Marston…”
“That old goat? What does he want with Olivia?” The possibility that Gosling would allow such a man anywhere near her curled his stomach. “You will lose a lot more if you ignore my aunt’s wishes.” Mercy! Now he had to explain this to Matilda. And bring her along to Sherbourne Manor. And explain to Nathaniel why his Aunt Lavinia also had to join them.
He groaned inwardly.
He was going to an awful lot of fuss over Goose.
And Lord help him if that book did contain lewd drawings.
He’d never hear the end of it.
He strode out of Gosling’s study shaking his head. Goose was standing by the door, her eyes wide and her mouth pursed. He turned to her, still wondering why he was going to such lengths over a ginger-haired girl he hadn’t seen in almost ten years who still had freckles on her nose and little ears that curled up at the top. “It’s all arranged. Nathaniel’s carriage will come around at ten o’clock tomorrow morning to pick you up. Be ready.”
She said nothing for the longest moment.
“Goose, don’t you want to be at Sherbourne Manor?”
“More than anything in the world.” Her eyes shimmered with tears, but he knew the girl was too proud to cry in front of him. She nodded and cast him a fragile smile that shot straight to his hear
t. “Thank you, Beast. I don’t know how you managed it, but I’ll be ready.”
He nodded. “Send word to me if your guardian gives you any trouble. Any at all.”
She placed a gentle hand upon his cheek. “It’s so very nice to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back.” In truth, it hadn’t been until the very moment he’d entered Gresham’s bookshop and seen Goose. The sight of her rubbing her head, and then admonishing the book when it fell back on her head, had brought innocence and laughter back into his life.
He hadn’t realized how badly he’d missed those simple pleasures.
Or how badly he’d missed his Little Goose.
Chapter Two
“I’m so glad Lord Gosling had a change of heart and allowed you to join us,” Penelope Sherbourne said, sliding over to make room for Olivia in the Sherbourne carriage the following morning. The sun was shining brightly against a vibrant blue sky, the rare sort of sky only seen after a torrential rain when there wasn’t a drop of water left to spill. Perhaps it only seemed beautiful to Olivia because she was happier than she’d been in months.
“It wouldn’t have been the same without you, Olivia.” The third member of their trio, Poppy Farthingale, said in agreement as the footman folded up the steps and shut the door. “It’ll be such fun now that you’re with us.”
She cast each friend a smile as the carriage rolled away from the Gosling townhouse, wending its way out of London toward the Cotswolds and the charming town of Wellesford. Penelope had grown up at Sherbourne Manor while she had resided across the meadow at Gosling Hall. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Had Beast not barged into her guardian’s study and frightened the man out of his wits with his roars and growls, she would not have been permitted to go. She’d called Beast a lion yesterday and that’s exactly what he was. Her very own fierce, brave lion.
Once out of sight of the Gosling townhouse, she eased back and smoothed out her travel outfit, a pewter-gray gown of muslin with a charcoal gray pelisse to match. Neither her gown nor her short boots were the height of fashion, but Penelope and Poppy were true and loyal. They would never hurt her feelings by casting a disparaging remark upon the faded elegance of her clothes.
“What’s that in your hand?” Poppy asked.
Olivia smiled. “It’s a book. But not just any book. It fell on my head yesterday, a sure sign that I was meant to have it.” Her friends bobbed their heads and leaned closer for a better view of the red, leather-bound tome. The boldness of the red had faded over the years. Perhaps it had been exposed to the sun at one time, but it was still quite impressive. “It’s called The Book of Love. I stayed up all night reading it.”
Poppy’s big, blue eyes rounded in delight. “How exciting. Is it one of those wickedly steamy–”
“Olivia would never read that sort of book.” Penelope emitted a trill of laughter. “But I would.” Grinning, she reached over and took it from Olivia’s hands. “Are there any naughty drawings?”
“Penelope! Honestly. Do you think I’d carry it about so openly if there were? No, it’s quite scientific.”
“Oh.” Both her friends muttered in disappointment and sank back in their seats. Penelope handed the book over to her. “That’s no fun.”
“Actually, it is quite fascinating.” Olivia flipped it open and began to read a passage. “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–”
Poppy gasped. “That is utterly unseemly and shocking. Olivia, whatever possessed you to bring this indecent… goodness, do read on.”
“It isn’t indecent at all. It’s scientific,” Olivia insisted and took up where she’d left off. “Therefore, to stimulate a man’s arousal response, one must arouse his sense receptacles in a pleasing way. By touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing.” She glanced at her friends. “Do you understand?”
“Not a bit of it,” Poppy replied. “What are sense receptacles?”
“Those little parts of our body that make us tingle when we are excited about something or someone. But a man’s sense receptacles do not operate in quite the same way as ours do. Nor does a man’s brain. It is very different from our own.”
Penelope snorted. “That much is obvious. Our brains function. Theirs do not.”
Olivia giggled as she glanced down at the page, and then she lifted her head to look meaningfully at her companions. “What this author suggests is that a man’s brain functions on two levels. The low and the high. The simple and complex. When a man’s brain is at its lowest function, he is only thinking of sex.”
Penelope rolled her eyes.
Poppy blushed.
“It is his simple brain at work, the one formed thousands of years ago at the dawn of Creation when men first walked about the primeval earth. Very little thought occurs when the man’s sexual urges are aroused. Perhaps no thought at all. But that is good. It is evidence of his compelling need to breed heirs with any fertile female he comes across.”
“But what about love?” Penelope asked.
“Love is a higher function of the brain. The important function that makes a man feel the need to protect his family. Wife and offspring. Otherwise, he’d merely spill his seed and then move on, leaving them to be eaten by wolves.”
Poppy gazed at her in horror. “How ghastly.”
“But that is why man has been given a higher brain, to enable him to love. However, before he reaches that upper function of intelligence, the man must first be attracted to us on the simple brain level.”
Poppy shook her head and sighed. “And we do that by arousing his senses? Taste, touch, and so on.”
Penelope gave a snorting grunt of disbelief. “It cannot possibly be that easy or women would have been using this advice for thousands of years.”
Olivia snapped the book shut. “Oh, I think it is quite a delicate and difficult matter. The slightest wrong step and the man will be lost forever. I’ve made a short list of those I would accept as a husband. Do you have gentlemen in mind?”
Both of her friends nodded.
“I think the Earl of Wycke is rather nice,” Penelope said. “So is Marquis Bellhampton. I haven’t actually spoken to either man yet, but I’ve observed them from a distance and they seem pleasant enough.”
Poppy cleared her throat. “My cousins, Rose and Laurel, made excellent matches for themselves. Viscount Chatham and Baron Moray. But I hardly dare look that high for myself. Violet and I,” she said, referring to her younger sister, “are not descended from anyone important either from my mother’s lineage or my father’s. I doubt I will tempt any nobleman to fall in love with me. Let me give it some thought, Olivia. Perhaps a second son of good moral character. I recently read that Captain Arthur Rawlings, a younger son of the Marquis of Hawkes, served with distinction at the battle of Waterloo. He was recently knighted. I think he might be someone of interest.”
Olivia reached forward to pat Poppy’s hand. “But that’s just the point. This book will allow us to aim as high as we wish. With a little practice and scientific testing, we ought to be able to make any man fall in love with us. Why settle for a knight when you can have a king?”
Penelope regarded her cynically. “With a little practice? We can have any man of our choosing? All well and good, but who are we going to practice on? My little cousin, Phillip, is the devil’s own spawn, and besides, he’s only eight years old. Who can we possibly get to–”
Olivia stared at her friend, worried that she’d suddenly stopped talking and was now making strange groaning sounds.
“How silly of me,” Penelope said after a long moment, shaking her head and laughing heartily. “We’ll have an entire week with the perfect low-brain functioning specimens. My brother and his friends.”
“Nathaniel?” Poppy muttered.
The carriage struck a rut in the road and sent them all bouncing off their seats.
/>
Penelope was the first to recover her balance and settle back. “Yes, my brother. And Thad. And Beast. They’ll be with us at Sherbourne Manor. Oh, I can’t wait to get started. Do let me experiment on Thad. He’s such a thickheaded, Scottish dolt. If I can arouse his uncouth, stubborn sense receptacles and turn him into a fawning beau, then I will succeed with any man.”
“Beast frightens me, so I’ll use Nathaniel.” Poppy gazed hesitantly at Olivia and then Penelope. “Oh, dear. I don’t mean ‘use’ him, exactly. That sounds so cold and deceiving. He’s safer, that’s all. Besides, he’s the only gentleman, other than Beast and Thad, of course, that I know outside of my own family. Do we let them in on our plan?”
“No!” Penelope replied. “They mustn’t know or it will skew the experiments.”
Olivia’s heart beat a little faster. “That means I’ll have to try out these theories on Beast. What if they don’t work?”
Penelope shrugged. “Then where’s the harm? He’ll never know the difference.”
Olivia wasn’t completely convinced, but Penelope’s answer did seem logical. “Oh, dear heavens! What if my trials do work?” She refused to consider the possibility. Beast would never fall into that lower state of sexual arousal over her, much less fall in love with her, which required his brain to revert to a higher brain function.
He was sinfully handsome, a much-decorated war hero, and a duke. From a line of wealthy and powerful dukes of Hartford. She’d read the gossip rags. He could aim for a marriage within the royal family. Any royal family throughout Europe. Why would he marry a goose when he could have a princess? And yet, if she managed to manipulate his brain so that he did fall in love with her, then marriage to Beast would be the answer to all her problems.
No, it is deceitful.
He deserved a love match… or at the very least, a marriage of his own conscious choosing.
She placed a hand over her heart to calm its rapid beating. Was she making too much of this? One week was not enough time to conduct all the necessary experiments. There were bound to be missteps.
