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

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The Book of Love (Books 1-3): A Regency Romance Collection Page 21

by Meara Platt


  He had no wish to remain and be dragged into ogling the fabrics or forced to gush over them as though he actually cared what Goose wore. She would look lovely no matter what she had on.

  He cleared his throat.

  In truth, she would look best with nothing on, but that was just his depraved male brain weighing in since he’d vowed not to touch her until their marriage, and perversely, could think of nothing else since.

  The morning had gone better than expected. He hoped Prinny would not turn the afternoon hellish with his unreasonable demands.

  However, since Beast was still with Goose at the moment, the girl with heaven in her smile, he wasn’t going to worry about his upcoming meeting. She gazed at him with her dazzling blue eyes and he felt the power of her love shine through. “Beast, thank you for letting me join you this morning. It meant a lot to me.”

  He tucked a finger under her chin and bent to kiss her lightly on the lips. “Enjoy your afternoon. I’ll see you this evening.”

  Poppy and Penelope arrived as he was leaving. The modiste and her entourage swept in immediately after them. Beast hurried off before he was dragged back inside.

  His carriage felt empty without Goose beside him.

  She was a little thing, but had a large, soothing presence.

  It did not take him long to reach St. James’s Palace.

  Prinny was already riled and pacing in his private salon, no doubt expecting more defiance from him. “You’re late.”

  Beast grinned. “No, I’m not. You are impatient and itching for a fight which I have no intention of giving you.”

  “Is that any way to speak to your betters?” But Prinny waved his hand and motioned for him to take one of the two red silk chairs set beside the massive, decorative alabaster hearth. There was no fire lit because of the warmth of the day, but it was a comfortable space where they could speak to each other without his staff overhearing.

  “That is the way I speak to a friend, as I hope you and I still are.”

  “Bah, I hate it when you are reasonable.” They waited while his steward poured each of them a glass of port from a crystal decanter. Then the man quietly backed out of the room, shutting the gilt-trimmed doors behind him.

  Beast settled in the chair beside Prinny. He sighed and ran his hand across the back of his neck. “I meant it when I said I have no wish to fight with you. What do you want from me in exchange for your consent? It is urgent that I marry Lady Olivia.”

  “Ah, dipping your wick in–”

  “Nothing of the sort. What do you want from me? You’ve won. I want Olivia and will give you whatever you ask in return.”

  Prinny arched an eyebrow as he turned to him in surprise. “What? A humbled hero? Am I to have no further argument from you? No condescension or insufferable superiority? Are you ill?” He laughed at his own jest. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more submissive Beast.”

  Beast held his frustration in check knowing Prinny was purposely goading him. “Lady Olivia is in danger. Marriage to me is the only way I can protect her. We’ve run out of time. Her guardian is desperate and ready to do something drastic. I don’t wish to argue with you. What do you want in exchange for your consent to our marriage?”

  Prinny set down his glass of port with a thunk against the demi-lune side table. “Even when submissive you have an irritating air of superiority.” He sighed and steepled his fingers under his chin in contemplation. “I can have him removed as her guardian with the stroke of my pen.”

  “It isn’t enough.”

  “Only marriage will do? That is utter nonsense.”

  “I haven’t time to put up with your petulance. She is in danger unless I marry her. Nothing less will do. And just to be clear. I will not have anyone but Olivia as my wife.”

  “You are a most irritating man. Love is overrated, you know. It fades over time. Ah, but you are a Duke of Hartford, and everyone knows the Hartford men are loyal hounds. Too bad. We could have had such fun, you and I. A different woman every night.” He arched an eyebrow again, this time adding a wicked grin. “More than one woman a night. Young, beautiful ladies of the court experienced in the sexual arts.”

  “Not interested.” He’d outgrown that sort of pleasure, and although he and his friends had made noise about doing exactly that, now they’d returned home from war, the truth was, he wanted to settle down and build a life with the woman he loved.

  Prinny leaned forward and pinned him with an icy stare. “Here’s the bargain, my friend. Join me after Lord Forster’s ball for a night of debauchery. I know women who will give you pleasure beyond your wildest imaginings. If you still wish to marry Lady Olivia afterward, then I shall give my consent.” He slapped his hands on his thighs, feeling quite gleeful over his proposition. “You don’t look pleased.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Be grateful I haven’t asked for any of your fine properties. Spending a night on the town with me is little to ask of you. I think my proposal is quite generous. Where’s the harm? You’ll have your consent tomorrow. Besides, my lady friends are eager to meet you. They’ve been hounding me for an introduction. Perhaps we’ll share one or two of them.”

  Nothing sounded less appealing.

  Prinny slapped his hands on his thighs again and rose. “Come, I have a meeting with the prime minister. He’s going to drone on and on about the economic disaster that will strike once our soldiers return to England and we have no jobs for them.”

  Beast frowned. “It is a grave problem.”

  “I know, but all he does is talk in circles as do both houses of Parliament. You’re experienced in commanding armies. Perhaps you can add a fresh perspective to this problem.”

  Sitting with politicians was as appealing as having a sore tooth pulled, but he knew it was an important issue that would affect the very men who’d served under him. Many had lost their lives. Some of the survivors had lost limbs. He could not abandon them to politicians.

  So, he remained in conference for the rest of the afternoon with Prinny, the prime minister, and representatives of both houses of Parliament.

  Since Prinny and those in the House of Lords had been invited to Lord Forster’s ball, the meeting broke up by late afternoon. However, he was not given permission to leave. Prinny drew him aside. “Stay, Hartford. Have a light supper with me before the ball. I want your thoughts on the meeting. Do you think we accomplished anything?”

  “Do you want the polite response or the honest one?”

  “The honest one. Lud, you are so infuriatingly superior.”

  But Prinny was in genuinely better spirits than when Beast had first arrived. Beast hoped he would remain in good humor through Lord Forster’s ball and relent on the requirement to join him afterward.

  They walked to the prince’s private dining room, another opulent chamber decorated in gilt trim, blue silk drapery, and chairs padded in blue velvet. Their place settings were already set out, everything polished and gleaming, from the silverware, to the crystal glasses, to the gold-rimmed royal plates.

  Servants lit the candles in the ornate silver candlesticks, poured wine for them, served them an assortment of cold meats, and then stepped back to blend into the walls.

  “Well, Hartford? What are your thoughts?”

  He twirled the wine glass in his hands, concentrating on the blood red liquid sparkling in the exquisite crystal. “The war has changed things. There will be no going back to the old ways. Those in the House of Lords will have to accept this.”

  Prinny laughed. “They never will.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re going to be in for some tough years ahead. We’ve demanded our soldiers risk their lives and they’ve done their duty. Now they’re coming back and these lords believe we owe them nothing for their sacrifice. We must put them to work. We must offer them jobs. We must support those who are injured and can no longer work.”

  “All well and good, but how? Our royal coffers are drained.” He rubbed his hand ti
redly across his face. “War is the obvious solution to keep these men occupied, but the world is tired of it. Bah! Enough of this discussion. We have a ball to attend.”

  Hours had passed since the last mention of the courtesans he was to meet afterward, Beast hoped that Prinny had forgotten about that demand. It wasn’t something he could ever explain to Goose. Not that he intended to do anything with Prinny’s elegant whores.

  He glanced up and noticed Prinny eyeing him speculatively. “You don’t wish to join me after the ball, do you?”

  “No.”

  He cast Beast a petulant smile. “But you will.”

  Beast nodded. “Do I have a choice?”

  “No. I command it. And will you participate?”

  “No.” Beast stiffened in his chair.

  Prinny snorted. “What’s the expression? You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. Hartford, think about it. We’ll have fun this evening. And my lady friends will be most put out if you sit aside with a beastly scowl on your face. What’s wrong with having a little sport? You aren’t married yet.” He paused a moment, and then sighed when met with Beast’s stony silence. “Fine. I won’t force you. But you still must come along because I’ve promised them that you will.”

  Beast strode out of St. James’s Palace uncertain how to explain this to Goose if she asked questions. He wasn’t going to lie to her, but neither was he going to bring up the topic. Prinny seemed to be mellowing. Hopefully, he would only need to put in a brief appearance, bow over a few hands, and then take his leave. Hopefully. Anything could set Prinny off and then there would be more demands foisted on him.

  Most men would be honored to spend an evening with the prince and his beautiful courtesans. But he wasn’t most men.

  Goose would be hurt.

  He shook his head and sighed.

  Did The Book of Love have any advice on how to get out of this coil?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Olivia hadn’t seen or heard from Beast since they’d left Sir Winston’s office and was now concerned matters had gone poorly with the prince. It was a warm evening with just a hint of moisture in the air. She and Matilda were in queue on Lord Forster’s receiving line waiting to be announced. Thad stood beside them, looking quite elegant in his formal attire, and doing his best to reassure her. But not even he sounded convinced.

  “Och, Goose. Beast will get his way. It may take a few days, but Prinny is beholden to him. He’s not going to risk the ire of every soldier in England by denying him the right to marry you.”

  She wasn’t convinced, but did not have the chance to respond before Penelope and Poppy hurried over to greet her and Matilda.

  “Good evening, Loopy,” Thad said, casting her friend an arrogant grin.

  Olivia and Poppy glanced at each other with slight smirks as Penelope tipped her nose up, prepared as usual to shoot Thad a waspish retort. To their surprise, she merely reached out to straighten his tie and then she smiled at him. “You clean up quite nicely for a Scottish oaf.”

  He covered his heart with his hand. “Am I hearing right? A compliment from the incomparable Lady Loopy Sherbourne?”

  She sighed. “Stop calling me that. My name is Penelope.” She turned away before he could respond. “Oh, Olivia. You look beautiful. I can’t believe Madame de Bressard managed to finish your gown in less than a day. The ivory silk suits you to perfection. How did she work all those pearls into the lace bodice and hem in a matter of a few hours? She must have had an army of seamstresses working on it.”

  “It was a little rushed,” Olivia admitted. “I’m afraid to breathe for fear the gown will fall apart if I do.”

  “My maid fashioned her hair,” Matilda said, giving a nod of approval. “The braided twist is simple yet elegant. Suits Olivia to perfection. Beast won’t be able to take his eyes off you, my dear.” She glanced around, obviously hoping to find her nephew. “Oh, dear. I hope Prinny hasn’t delayed him.”

  Olivia hoped it did not bode ill for their chances of marrying. Was Prinny resisting? Of course, he was. She’d been a fool to hope love could conquer all.

  “He’ll be along soon,” Thad assured.

  Nathaniel joined them. “Goose, you look smashing. All you ladies do.” He slowly raked his gaze over each of them, seeming to take a little longer over Poppy, which caused her to blush. But then his gaze shifted to a young woman by the door. “Excuse me, ladies.”

  Olivia glanced worriedly at Poppy. She’d gone from blushing to crestfallen as Nathaniel strode away to greet Lady Charlotte Winthrow. Thad, to her delight, held out his arm to Poppy. “I believe they’ve just opened the ball. Care for the first dance?”

  Poppy was obviously too overset to speak, so she simply nodded.

  Olivia watched them walk into the ballroom.

  Penelope sighed. “The Scottish oaf can be quite wonderful when he tries. I never thought I’d say this, but Thad has more sense than my idiot brother.”

  Olivia laughed.

  She, Matilda, and Penelope greeted Lord and Lady Forster and then entered the ballroom. Lavinia was already seated along the wall beside the terrace doors chatting with friends. They joined her and were engaged in quite a pleasant conversation when the first set ended and Thad returned Poppy to their side. He then offered to dance with Penelope.

  Penelope’s nose tipped up again. “Will you step on my toes?”

  Thad grinned. “Repeatedly.”

  Penelope shook her head and laughed. “Very well, let’s see how bad a dancer you are.”

  She and Poppy grinned as the two of them walked off. “They are a pair,” Poppy said. “I’m not sure whether they’ll fall in love or kill each other. My bet is on kill each other.”

  Olivia nodded. “You’re probably right. Ah, here comes Nathaniel.”

  Poppy frowned. “Where? Is he alone or with Lady Charlotte?”

  “Alone.”

  Poppy’s frown deepened. “I’m going to refuse him if he offers to dance with me.”

  Olivia gave her a little hug. “Don’t you dare. How else will he realize he’s made a mistake? Grab every chance to show yourself off. You are far superior to Lady Charlotte in every way.”

  “She’s a nobleman’s daughter. I’m the daughter of a merchant.”

  “But you will have The Book of Love and she won’t.”

  “Oh, that.” She cast Olivia a sheepish grin. “I want to believe the book is magical, but Beast insists it isn’t. And I’m not certain I fit in an Upper Crust world. You and Penelope are wonderful, of course. But you are the only ones who have befriended me. I do like Nathaniel very much. But I don’t know that he will suit as a husband for me.”

  Their discussion ended as Nathaniel reached them. “Poppy, may I have this dance?”

  It was a waltz.

  Poppy’s eyes rounded in surprise.

  Olivia nudged her. “She’d love to, Nathaniel.”

  He laughed. “Next dance is yours, Goose. I’m not sure what’s delaying Beast, but Thad and I promised to look after you until he arrives. Unfortunately, the Bow Street runners are not permitted inside. They’ve been forced to stand watch on the street, which won’t help if there’s to be trouble at this party.”

  “Do you think there will be?” She rose on tiptoes to look around. “I don’t see Lord Gosling or Lord Marston.”

  “Neither do I, but that signifies nothing. Don’t walk away. Stay near Matilda.”

  “I won’t budge,” she assured him.

  She watched her friends on the dance floor and chatted with acquaintances who stopped by to pay their respects to Matilda and Lavinia as well as to her. But as the waltz neared its conclusion, the elderly Lord Walton accidentally stomped on the hem of her gown with his walking cane, and Olivia felt it rip. A few pearls fell off the lace and rolled onto the polished floor.

  Oh, perfect.

  She had wanted to impress Beast, not greet him with a torn dress. She excused herself, intending to dash upstairs to the ladies
retiring room. But the stairs were on the opposite side of the crowded ballroom. What if more of her hem unraveled as she made her way through the crush of guests?

  The terrace was right behind her, no more than a few steps away. She decided to slip out there. It would only take her a moment to apply a strategic pin or two to the hem. She had tucked a few into her silk waistband as a precaution. “I’ll be just outside,” she whispered to Matilda, motioning to her hem.

  “Lord Walton, that doddering, old goat,” Matilda muttered with a roll of her eyes. “I was afraid he’d topple onto me. Do hurry, Olivia.”

  “I will.” She stepped onto the terrace, nodding to a few acquaintances who were now walking inside, for the Prince Regent had just been announced with great fanfare, and everyone who had been outside did not want to miss his entrance.

  Although Olivia did not like suddenly finding herself alone outdoors, she only needed a moment to pin the hem and then join everyone back inside. But as she dug into her waistband to remove one of the pins, someone grabbed her from behind, muffling her mouth as he attempted to drag her toward the terrace steps and into the darkened garden.

  “Thought you could outwit me, you insolent girl.”

  She shuddered, recognizing Lord Gosling’s triumphant, snarling voice, and then shuddered again as she felt the press of a cold blade against her throat. “We have you now and you won’t slip away from us this time.”

  “Stop gloating and get her out of here before anyone notices she’s missing.” The deeper voice belonged to Lord Marston.

  She saw the outline of two other men, but could not make out their identities in the darkness. If they’d been invited to attend Lord Forster’s ball, she expected they were dissolute younger sons of noblemen who were in need of funds to subsidize their wastrel ways.

  Panic overwhelmed her, but she forced herself to remain calm. Even though her guardian held a knife to her throat, he dared not use it. Did he? She was of no use to him dead. And she had a weapon of a sort at her fingertips, the pin she meant to use for her hem. She plunged it into Lord Gosling’s fleshy hand, the one that had been covering her mouth.

 

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