by Meara Platt
Olivia tried to make light of it. She’d often felt lonely in the new Lord Gosling’s household and truly understood Pip’s own emptiness. His parents had died, and while Penelope, Lavinia, and Nathaniel were warm and loving toward the boy, she knew he had to be struggling over their loss. Nothing could replace a mother’s kiss or the solid security of having one’s father at home.
Penelope and Nathaniel had experienced a similar loss, but they’d had each other to turn to in their grief. She liked that they’d always been close. That’s what families were supposed to be. That’s what she wanted to find when she married, a man with plenty of warmth and cheer in his heart. “I think he’ll enjoy the company of someone his own age much more, but Pip and I get along well enough. I hope he won’t find me too boring while we are off chasing butterflies. By the time supper comes around, he might feign a headache and beg me to leave.”
Lavinia reached over and patted her hand. “My dear, I’m sure he’ll have a lovely time with you. And I think the grown men will be quite jealous.”
Olivia laughed. “I cannot imagine any of those three picking up butterfly nets and joining us while we flit across the meadow.”
“Indeed, not,” Penelope said. “They’re no better than Huns. They’d crush anything that had the misfortune to be caught under their big, booted feet. But let’s not speak of those simpletons right now.” She cast Olivia a conspiratorial look to signify they’d meet in Penelope’s room later to discuss their initial findings. “I hear the men leaving the study. Shall we move to the music room? Olivia, will you play for us?”
Olivia nodded, for she enjoyed playing the piano and often used it to escape the boredom of the new Lord Gosling’s house. She’d always think of him as that, for her father had been the real Lord Gosling, true and honorable in every sense. His distant cousin was a toad. A mean one at that, for he’d sold her piano a few months ago and taken great pleasure in her distress. “I’d love to.”
They all moved into the music room, the men joining them and giving no protest when told they’d have to delay their evening card game a little while longer, for Olivia was about to give a recital.
Beast folded his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow. “You still play?”
She nodded. “Always. I enjoy it.”
“Until a few months ago when her ogre of a guardian sold her piano,” Penelope said, frowning at her brother.
Nathaniel shook his head in confusion. “Why are you angry with me? I didn’t give it away.”
“You should have said something to the man. Threatened to beat him within an inch of his life. You know how much that piano meant to Olivia.”
“No, Penelope.” Olivia regarded her in dismay. “Please don’t make more of it than it is. I could have said something to Lord Gosling. It wasn’t your brother’s place to–”
“I’ll take care of it when I’m in town tomorrow.” Beast spoke softly, but a shiver ran up Olivia’s spine. Beneath the quiet calm was a lion who would rip apart Lord Gosling if he refused to restore it. Goodness, she liked that.
Not that she wished physical harm to Lord Gosling.
But she liked that he was in mortal fear of Beast.
She would have her piano back. “Thank you, Beast. I mean, Your Grace. I mean…” She sighed. “Thank you.”
He made no response and took a seat beside his aunt to await the start of her concert. No doubt, he considered the matter settled and a foregone conclusion that he would restore the instrument to its rightful place.
Olivia sank onto the piano stool and lightly tested the ivory keys. The piano was in tune. Recently tuned, for the heat and dampness would have affected the purity of the notes otherwise. She started with a Scottish lilt that had Thad grinning in approval. “The lass knows her music.”
Then she moved on to a haunting sonata that she’d learned only last year. Since Lavinia and Matilda were gently weeping by the end of it, she decided to finish her recital with a merry, country air.
When she’d finished, graciously accepting the enthusiastic cheers from Poppy and Penelope, the quieter cheers from Lavinia and Matilda, and hoots and howls from Thad and Nathaniel, she offered to play something more conducive to dancing.
Only then did she notice that Beast had slipped out of the room.
Where was he?
“You may play for us tomorrow, Olivia,” Lavinia intoned. “We’ve all had a long day of travel. Matilda and I will retire to our chambers. Girls, you must now do the same. We’ll leave the men to their card game.”
Olivia’s heart sank. It was true. Without proper chaperones, they could not be allowed to remain with the men. But it would also allow them to meet in Penelope’s room and formulate their plans. “Very well,” she said, motioning to her friends.
Nathaniel and Thad bid them goodnight.
Where was Beast?
She hoped she’d see him before he rode off tomorrow morning. Perhaps she would manage one test, a simple one, before then.
Chapter Four
Beast stood on the terrace listening to the strains of a lively country tune that Olivia played effortlessly. Night had fallen and the moon was shining overhead, hanging upon the sky like an enormous silver ball. Thousands of stars twinkled against the black sky. He leaned forward and rested his elbows atop the stone balustrade, determined to calm his rage.
That walking slime, Gosling, had purposely taken Olivia’s piano away from her. He’d stolen her joy and her music. What did he intend to steal next?
He growled softly, that last thought enraging him further. She was his Little Goose. No one was going to hurt her while he was around to protect her.
“Beast, there you are. Why did you slip away from my concert?” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the music had stopped. He turned to the sound of Goose’s soft voice and met her endearing grin. “Has my playing gotten that bad over the years?”
She was purposely trying to make light of her loss, but he would not allow it.
“Why did you let him take away your piano?” He knew he sounded angry, and was incensed on her behalf. Why hadn’t she put up a fight? Even as the thought came into his mind, he knew it was unreasonable. How could she have stopped her guardian? She had no rights to assert in a court of law. The loathsome man hadn’t beaten her. He’d taken her into his home, albeit treating her as an unwanted burden. He’d done the minimum required of a guardian toward his charge. “Sorry, I know it wasn’t your fault.”
It was not in Goose’s nature to be combative, and even if it were, where would it have gotten her? She was a little thing and her shouts of protest and outrage might have brought her a sound thrashing instead of the return of her precious instrument.
She moved closer to him, obviously not intimidated by his frowning countenance. “Beast, why are you working yourself into a state over my circumstances? I could have objected and made a fuss, but I simply didn’t care. It isn’t my home any longer. I won’t pretend that it didn’t hurt. But it is nothing I won’t get over in time. In any event, I’ve made plans of my own.”
He tensed. “What sort of plans?”
She tipped her head up to meet his steady gaze. “I intend to be married by the end of the Season. I’ll no longer be his responsibility.”
Her answer only increased his tension. “So, you’d marry anyone just to get away from Gosling?”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. “No! How could you ever suggest such a thing? I am going to marry for love.”
“Who are you in love with?” And why did he have the sudden urge to rip that man apart? Goose in love? It wasn’t possible.
She cleared her throat and looked downward a moment before returning her gaze to his. “No one yet. That’s why I needed the book. You know, the one you bought for me.”
He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Beast,” she said, emitting a sigh, “I need to figure this out quickly. There’s nothing lewd or remotely indecent in those pages. While P
enelope, Poppy, and I have laughed over some of the observations written, it is actually a very thoughtful discussion about the elements of love. I can’t share the ideas with you yet. It’s important that I don’t. I shouldn’t be talking to you about it now.”
“Why not?” He raked a hand through his hair. “You can tell me anything. Trust me to keep it in confidence, Goose.”
“I know.” She took a step away from him and turned to gaze at the moon and stars. “I appreciate your concern more than you will ever realize. But please don’t ask me any more questions about it.”
Hellfire. He had a thousand questions, a thousand concerns over this girl, and she was purposely keeping him at a distance. What was the matter with her? He was a powerful duke. He was not going to be pushed away until he was good and ready. He would walk away on his own terms and in his own time.
He raked a hand through his hair once more, irritated when she kept her gaze fixed heavenward. He was also not used to being ignored and he did not care for it one bit. “What if your plan fails? What if you don’t find love?”
She shrugged her slender shoulders. “Then I shall find employment as a companion.”
“Employment? Are you serious?” He wanted to growl in frustration. Goose had been born a viscount’s daughter. A flighty, fool-of-a-viscount apparently, but a peer nonetheless. She wasn’t meant to go into service in the household of some cantankerous, old battle-axe who would run her ragged with an endless stream of mindless chores.
She finally turned to him. “I’m not afraid of work, Beast.”
But he was afraid for her. She was too beautiful ever to be safe in anyone’s household. The men, most of them already married, would be sniffing around her like eager hounds after a fox. “Come to me first if you find yourself in need of employment.”
She pursed her lips in thought, apparently not liking his suggestion if the frown on her face was any indication. “I am not your responsibility.”
“Goose, there are times I wish to wring your pretty neck. I’m offering to help, that’s all. In truth, you would be of great help to me. My aunt will soon be in need of a companion. I can see she likes you. It would be a perfect arrangement. She’d be in your gentle care and I wouldn’t have to worry about her comfort.”
Goose arched an eyebrow. “Are you making this up? Although your aunt uses a cane for support, she doesn’t look frail. She’s here with her maid who seems quite competent to attend to her every need.”
“You wouldn’t be serving as her maid. You’d be her companion, offering her intellectual stimulation and friendship during her waning years. She’s growing older and her health can fail very quickly.” Lord help him! Matilda was going to box his ears. “Where’s the problem? You need a safe place to be and Matilda needs a trustworthy companion. I don’t see how anyone loses in this proposition. Think about it. If you don’t fall in love by the end of the Season–”
“And I find the need to leave Lord Gosling’s residence?”
“Right, and that.” He stifled the urge to growl again. That man deserved to be ripped apart. He might do it just for the fun of it. “Then come to me and I’ll engage you as a companion for Matilda.”
“Assuming Lord Gosling doesn’t object. He’s still my guardian.”
This time, he did growl. “He won’t. I’ll make certain of it.”
*
“Olivia, what took you so long?” Penelope whispered as she opened the door to her bedchamber and allowed her inside. Poppy was already there, seated on Penelope’s bed with The Book of Love on her lap.
“Sorry, I had a chat with Beast.” She sank onto the bright yellow counterpane beside Poppy, tucking her legs under her as she settled in to plot her next course of action. “What did I miss?”
Poppy handed her the book. “Nothing. We were waiting for you. What did you and Beast talk about? Were you arousing his sense receptacles? Was he responding?”
“No, nothing of the sort.” She shook her head and sighed. “You know my situation with Lord Gosling.”
Penelope joined them on her bed. “Indeed, we do. If it gets unbearable, I shall insist that Nathaniel take you in. You’ll live with us for as long as you need.”
“It won’t be necessary. That’s what Beast wanted to speak to me about. He said he would engage me as companion for Matilda, if it ever came to that.”
Poppy’s eyes rounded in surprise. “That’s awfully generous of him.”
“I know.” Olivia pursed her lips in thought. “I almost feel guilty trying out these love… I’d hardly call them spells, but the point is to place a man under my spell. So, I suppose that is what I’d be doing with Beast.”
The kinder he was toward her, the worse she felt about purposely enticing him, especially if her magical allure actually worked.
She opened the book. “Oh, dear.”
It happened to open at the chapter discussing the sense of sight. She was going to turn the pages to find something else, for it seemed cruel to start there when Beast had only one good eye. But her heart beat slightly faster and her hand stilled on the page. Was her heart telling her to begin there? Or rather, was her brain sending signals to her heart not to turn the page?
Poppy shifted closer to peer at the book. “What’s wrong, Olivia? The sense of sight? Is that where you’re going to start with Beast?”
She nodded. “I don’t see how I can avoid it. That sense is too important. According to this book, men look for beautiful women. They may define beauty differently, but there is one thing they all agree upon. The woman must appear to be a successful vessel for their sperm or they will immediately dismiss her in their minds, whether too old, too young, too frail, or too sickly. So, all men will first look for cues that a woman can provide him healthy offspring. At this first inspection, the color of her hair and eyes is not as important as the shape and symmetry of her body.”
Poppy frowned. “What does that mean?”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “It means men look at a woman’s breasts first.”
Olivia grinned. “I suppose that does summarize this chapter. That’s it in a nutshell, Poppy. If they like the look of her bosom, they will then move on to inspecting the rest of her. They can’t help themselves. It is their lower brain function at work, the one designed purely for successful mating.”
Poppy pursed her lips. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Right now, I believe Beast is rejecting me as a suitable mate because his mind still sees me as the Little Goose I was when we last met, the little ten-year-old he certainly would never touch.”
“But you’re all grown up now. We all are,” Poppy said.
“And he realizes it. He even passed a casual remark about it to me, but he’s fighting against his own mating urges. I need to break through the wall he’s built around himself and lead his mind to accepting me as a potential mate.”
“How? By exposing your bosom?” Poppy’s eyes rounded in horror.
“Good heavens, no. I have no intention of removing my clothes and exposing myself. Besides, if he gets a good look and decides I’m lacking, then there is nothing to hold his interest. But we know the female bosom is important to a man. If I give Beast a mere hint of what lies beneath my clothing, his lower brain will compel him to keep looking until he makes his determination.”
She paused to make certain her friends were following the path of her thoughts before continuing. “But there is an added benefit to allowing him only a peek.”
“What’s that?” Penelope asked.
“The brain tends to fill in parts the eyes perceive as missing. So, in catching a glimpse of the swell of my breast and frustrating his brain with respect to a full view of it, he will be forced to look again and again. In frustration, his brain will fill in what he wants to see… the lush breasts he desires. That action will reinforce his pleasure sensations. The hope is that his wall of resistance will crumble and he will come to a positive conclusion about my suitability as a mate, even though he h
as never been given more than a peek.”
Her friends stared at her for the longest while. Stunned. Saying nothing. Then Penelope burst out laughing. “Oh, poor Beast! You must test this before he leaves tomorrow morning. He’ll be thinking of you and paying no attention whatsoever to that haughty Austrian princess.”
“Unless she tempts him similarly,” Poppy said. “Then he’ll be riding back to Sherbourne Manor thinking of her and not Olivia.”
“Poppy, don’t say that. He has to prefer Olivia.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “We’ll learn something from tomorrow’s experiment. He’ll be back shortly after supper and we’ll know for certain then.”
Olivia was still contemplating her plan while she returned to her guest chamber and readied herself for bed. Penelope had assigned maids to assist each of them, and a local girl by the name of Betsy awaited her. “I’ll need your assistance in dressing tomorrow morning, Betsy.”
“Of course, m’lady. Is there a particular gown you’d like me to freshen?” The girl was about Olivia’s age and quite cheerful, her dark curls bobbing as she scurried about the room attending to her duties.
“The blue muslin, if you please.”
Betsy helped her to undress and don her nightrail. The girl liked to talk, so Olivia learned all about the young man Betsy hoped to marry, one of the local farmers, currently a tenant farmer on land belonging to the local magistrate, Mr. Baldridge. She was still chattering as she walked to the door to take the gown downstairs to air and press.
Once alone in the blessed quiet, Olivia brushed out her hair in preparation for bed. The room was warm so she opened the glass-paned doors that led out onto a small balcony overlooking the rear garden. A light breeze blew through her hair and caused her thin, cotton nightrail to billow and swirl around her hips and legs.
She inhaled deeply to take in the scent of roses and evening dew on the grass that carried on the wind.
The moon shone overhead, its rays falling across the garden in a silvery arc. Stars glittered in the sky. She closed her eyes and made a wish. Please let me find love.
