by Meara Platt
“Plenty.”
“Such as?”
“He’s a peacock in a uniform. He struts and preens but there is no substance to him. Only surface glitter and little more to him than that.”
“That is odd. I’ve spoken to him and he seems to be quite intelligent.”
Nathaniel snorted. “He’s a codswallop.”
“What does that mean?”
Nathaniel ran a hand across the nape of his neck, obviously tense and cross. His nostrils flared and his eyes turned stormy. “It means you’re to stay away from him. It means that if I see him approaching you, I’ll–”
She laughed. “Nathaniel, do you hear yourself? You sound like one of those dominant male baboons my cousin, Lily, is always going on about. I am not one of the female baboons in your troop. You cannot chase away the other males who wish to sniff me.”
He emitted a low, feral growl that surprised her by its sensuality.
A ripple of excitement shot through her.
A hot ripple, in truth. The flecks of gray in Nathaniel’s eyes were like burning embers, fiery and smoldering. His chest was puffed out and he looked as though he might start beating on it at any moment, pounding out a possessive tune. Mine. You are mine. Only I shall ever sniff you.
Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
Was it possible?
Is he jealous?
No, it isn’t possible.
Dear heaven, it can’t happen.
He had to fall in love with Charlotte, for she was carrying his child. How could there be any other outcome to this situation?
Chapter Six
Nathaniel’s heart slammed into his chest. Not once. Not twice. But repeatedly. Hard punches that had him reeling. What was it about Poppy? Her smile struck him like a body blow. Her slightest touch seared his soul.
He ached just looking at her.
And yet, he also felt wrapped in warmth when looking at her. Those big, blue eyes of hers were glorious pools, perhaps a gentle stream that carried you along in its soothing current.
But there was nothing gentle about his feelings for the girl. He was suddenly a possessive brute.
Only he would ever touch her.
Only he would ever kiss her.
Only he would ever wrap her in his arms and fill her.
Lord help him! What was he thinking?
He stepped away from Poppy and turned his back to her, needing a moment to regain control of his traitorous body. Even turned away, he could feel her beside him. Every one of his senses was screaming and churning within him.
He made the mistake of looking at her again.
A breeze blew gently through her dark curls. It billowed and swirled around her gown so that the fabric flowed and clung to her long, slender legs and her hips. Her gown was lavender, and that made him think of her scent, for it was also lavender. He wanted to taste it on her skin. He wanted to capture her lips in a long, lingering kiss.
The worst of it was that he suddenly wanted to hold her close to his heart, take her into his heart. Keep her there always and protect her. Love her. Raise a family with her.
It was madness.
No doubt a case of sunstroke. “Poppy, I–”
“Don’t say it, Nathaniel. Don’t say anything. Go home. I’ll find someone in town to escort me back to the house when I finish my errands.”
He ran a hand raggedly through his hair. “No, I don’t want you walking there alone. And who will you ask to escort you back?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll look for the most untrustworthy scoundrel I can find and ask him.”
He ignored her sarcasm. “I’ll send my carriage for you. The driver will wait beside the Golden Hart.”
“Very well. I won’t be long.”
He watched her until she’d walked into town, still not liking that she was there on her own. But everyone from the local baker, to the bookshop owner, to the farrier would notice her presence and run out to protect her if anything untoward were to happen.
At the moment, he was the greatest danger to her.
What’s worse, she knew it.
He hadn’t been able to mask his hunger for her.
He glanced up, scowling heavenward. “Lord, why do this to me?”
He’d known the girl all of her life. Suddenly, she’d become the woman of his dreams. Was this real? Or his way of rebelling against the problems piled on his shoulders. And now Charlotte Winthrow was to visit.
“Lord Welles, is anything wrong?” Dr. Carmichael was just walking out the door as he returned to Sherbourne.
“No, distracted by my thoughts is all. How is my aunt?”
The doctor smiled. “She’s holding up nicely. Merely a touch of lumbago. She’ll be in the pink by the time the Duke of Winthrow and his daughter arrive. Your aunt invited me to the dinner party you’re hosting in their honor.”
Nathaniel shook his head and laughed. “I’m hosting a dinner party? Yes, of course. I leave such matters to Lavinia and Penelope. They are far more capable than I am when it comes to arranging parties. You are always welcome, Carmichael. Did they mention when the party is to be held?”
“Saturday evening. I think half the town will be invited.”
“Is that so? My sister’s idea, no doubt.” He needed to speak to Penelope before she put whatever diabolical plans to thwart a marriage between him and Charlotte into action. There would be no marriage between them, but it irked him that his sister was meddling in his life, determined to impose her will on his happiness. And it irked him that he liked Poppy and was turning into a panting dog, unable to stem his lust for her.
It irked him most that his sister had been right about Poppy being perfect for him.
And since he was already out of joint, it irked him that Penelope was constantly bickering with Thad. “Well then, I’ll see you Saturday evening.”
When the doctor left, Nathaniel went in search of Penelope and found her in the parlor. She was seated beside their aunt, both of them hovered over an invitation list. Ah, these glorious lists that everyone made. He often made lists when dealing with his business affairs. It was efficient. It was logical.
He was growing to hate them. There was nothing wrong with tossing caution to the wind and ripping up all lists. No one adhered to them anyway, least of all him. He’d done a miserable job of describing Charlotte. A sad state of affairs since he knew her intimately. Or rather, he’d been intimate with her, but hardly knew her at all. He wasn’t about to make a list of what had led to that fateful evening or what he’d done. It would have shocked Poppy. Fortunately, no harm had come of it.
Still, how could he have been so stupid? But all his defenses had been stripped that evening, for he’d earlier been to the docks and seen those coffins lined up. Friends lost forever.
Get drunker than you have ever been in your life.
Continue drinking when you reach Lord Angstrom’s ball.
Ignore the alarm bells when Lady Charlotte suggestively lays her hand on your thigh while you are seated beside her at the dinner table.
Agree to meet her in Lord Angstrom’s conservatory, and when you do, don’t bother to talk. Just lift up her gown and drop your pants.
Take care to pull out before spilling your seed inside of her.
Try to remember her name when she slips away to return to the ball.
Remember to button your trousers.
Indeed, such a list should have sobered him quickly, but he’d simply returned to the ball and guzzled more champagne, trying to forget those boxes filled with precious souls. And now he had to find a way to make amends to Charlotte because he was not going to marry her. “Penelope, you can’t invite the entire town of Wellesford to the dinner party. You know the Duke of Winthrow will not like rubbing elbows with our neighbors.”
She stiffened and shot him an indignant look. “Then he ought to go home if he doesn’t enjoy our rustic hospitality.”
“And take his daughter with him? That isn’t going to happen
.” He frowned, knowing she was going to make life hell for him until he came to his senses and chose Poppy. “Who else besides Dr. Carmichael have you invited? Let me look at your list.”
He struck off most of the names, leaving only the doctor, Vicar Carstairs, the Plimptons, and unfortunately, their idiot nephew, Andrew Gordon. Beast and Goose were invited, of course. Thad and Poppy since they were guests in his home.
“We must invite more families. There are more men than ladies, and everyone knows you must have an equal number at the table or the party will be deemed an utter failure.”
“Penelope, that is nonsense. Then don’t invite the vicar or Captain Gordon.”
She rolled her eyes. “I cannot rule them out. Don’t you know anything about anything?”
He shot his sister a murderous look. “Apparently, I don’t.”
Lavinia sighed. “Invite Lord Lothbridge and his daughters. They are of suitable age. That will even out our table. I think it’s an excellent list. Lord Lothbridge will be pleased to have these fine gentlemen present. Deandra is his eldest and quite pretty. Too pretty to be considered a spinster. Perhaps one of these gentlemen will take a fancy to her.”
Goose, who had been reading in a corner, came over to join them. “I’ll play some lively tunes afterward, so we’ll have music for those who wish to dance. It will be a perfect party, Lavinia. Not too big. Not too small. The Duke of Winthrow and his daughter cannot find fault with it.”
“But they will anyway,” Penelope muttered.
There were times when Nathaniel wanted to wring his sister’s neck. She was like a dog with a bone that she would not let go. “Don’t think to set Pip loose on Charlotte. It’s you I’ll take to the woodshed and thrash if he drops a spider into her teacup.”
“Honestly, Nathaniel. You cannot think to–”
“Enough, Penelope!” He was in no humor for her insolence at the moment.
The duke and his daughter would be on their doorstep in a matter of days. Lavinia’s blackmailer would surely strike, and he had no idea who the man was… or even if it was a man. Nor did he know the whereabouts of Lavinia’s baby who was all grown up now. Perhaps the child was the blackmailer.
“Charlotte Winthrow is a–”
“Watch what you say about her! She will be my wife, assuming she accepts my offer of marriage. Get used to it. She will soon be your sister.” Lord, why had he blurted that lie?
Penelope ran out in tears.
“Oh, dear.” Goose hurried after her.
Lavinia was too old to sprint out of the parlor, so she simply took out her handkerchief and dabbed the tears forming in her eyes. “Poor Poppy. She’ll be devastated.”
“Why should Poppy care?” Of course, he knew the girl adored him. They’d always gotten along well. But whatever respect or affection she harbored for him was now dead.
“She’s been in love with you ever since she first set eyes on you.”
“Lavinia, she was a child. I assure you, she does not love me now.” Indeed, he hoped she had more sense than that. Yes, she did have more sense. Wasn’t this what his earlier discussion with Poppy had been about? Her common sense.
Her healing touch.
He’d poured out his heart to her concerning the war, revealing his innermost pain. It had wrung him dry. He was obviously still out of sorts, or he would never have lashed out at Penelope the way he had done.
Lavinia shook her head and sighed. “You don’t stop loving someone simply because it is convenient to do so.”
He stared at his aunt. Was it possible she still loved the man who had ruined her? He needed to find out more about him. But how was he to start the conversation? He’d ask Poppy. She would know. She would do anything to protect Lavinia.
Thad and Beast strode in.
“What’s going on?” Beast asked. “Penelope rushed past us in tears, and Goose was too busy chasing after her to stop and tell us.”
Nathaniel ran a hand across the back of his neck and groaned. “Nothing. Just putting together a list for Saturday night’s dinner party.”
Thad arched an eyebrow. “Och, must be some list.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Hell of a list.”
Beast slapped him on the shoulder. “You look like you could use a drink. How about we three walk to the Golden Hart?”
“No, I’ve sent my carriage into town and the driver is to wait there for Poppy. She won’t be keen on seeing me just now. But I’ll take you up on the offer once she returns.”
Thad’s eyebrow shot up again. “Poppy is mad at you, too? She never loses her temper at anyone. What the hell did you do?”
Nathaniel frowned. “Nothing.”
“Oh, you did something,” Thad remarked with a laugh. “Did you try to kiss her?”
“No.”
Beast muffled his laughter with a cough. “Maybe she’s angry because you didn’t kiss her. You’re her test frog, after all. Perhaps her test failed.”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes in exasperation. “No test. No failure. No idea what got her so overset. Drop it.”
Thad patted him on the back. “Well, it’s as I’ve always said. Big girls. Big problems.”
Beast nodded. “This is going to be a fun party.”
Nathaniel groaned. “Hell of a party.”
Chapter Seven
Nathaniel. Test frog. Day Three.
Earls make terrible test frogs.
Poppy was late coming down to breakfast the following morning, hoping to avoid everyone. Apparently, everyone had the same idea, for all were now seated around the table, just about to dig into their food.
The silence as she walked in was deafening.
Pip was the only cheerful one. “We’re to have more company on Friday, and a dinner party on Saturday,” Pip said, knocking over his glass of milk as she settled in the chair beside him. “Bollocks! I didn’t mean to do it. I swear.”
Poppy shot out of her chair and quickly righted his glass, then set her table linen over the spill to sop it up before it dripped onto the floor. She moved aside as one of the footmen properly attended to it. “Oh, Pip.”
“I’m so sorry, Poppy.” His smile crumbled and he looked as though he was about to cry.
She quickly forgave him, for there had been enough tears spilled this past day, along with this morning’s milk. She couldn’t bear to see another sad face. “It’s all right. We are all off stride this morning.”
The men looked hungover. One would think Pip had exploded a cannonball in their ears, the way they’d cringed and moaned in response to the light thunk of the glass as it fell over on the table.
Penelope’s eyes were red and swollen. She must have cried herself to sleep last night and cried some more this morning. Lavinia and Goose were nursing headaches, no doubt a result of dealing with Penelope and the men.
Even Periwinkle had his paws over his eyes and his head bowed as he sat on Lavinia’s lap.
Was it wrong of her to hope the Duke of Winthrow and his daughter would be abducted by pirates and put on a ship sailing to the opposite end of the world?
She supposed it wouldn’t do.
Nathaniel looked like the Grim Reaper.
His aunt and sister looked as though they were about to burst into tears again.
“Well, isn’t this charming,” she muttered. “What a jolly party.”
Pip, who had resumed his seat now that his milk spill had been cleaned up, was the only one to laugh at her mirthless jest. “Oh, Poppy. You got a letter. I saw it sitting on the salver in the entry hall. Did Soames give it to you yet?”
“No, I’ve only just come down.”
Pip hopped to his feet again, this time almost knocking over her cup of tea. “Oops, sorry. I’ll get the letter for you. It isn’t from your sister or your parents.”
Nathaniel frowned at the boy. “Sit down, Pip. Leave Poppy alone and stop snooping. The letter is none of your business.”
“But I always snoop. You don’t usually catch me at it.”
He grinned and ran off to fetch the letter.
Poppy inspected it when Pip handed it to her. She did not recognize the handwriting either. “Hmm, there’s no indication of who wrote it.” Since no one was talking anyway, she decided to open it at the table. It was considered rude to do so, but everyone was out of sorts this morning and it was a short letter.
Pip must have been reading it over her shoulder, for he suddenly burst out laughing. “It’s a love letter. Poppy has a secret admirer! Poppy has a secret admirer!” He brought his hand up to his lips and began to make crude kissing noises.
“Stop that, Pip,” she said in a sharp whisper.
The three men looked on, saying nothing but obviously stunned. The ladies looked delighted.
“Let me see the letter.” Nathaniel rose to his full height and reached across the table to grab it.
“No, it’s mine.” Poppy held it protectively away from him.
Nathaniel was getting that big baboon beating on his chest look again. “It’s a love letter. Delivered to my home. Let me see it.”
“It was delivered to me,” she corrected.
“What coward would write to you and not reveal his name?” He came around to her side of the table and took the seat next to hers. His brow was furrowed and he did not look pleased. Wordlessly, he held out his hand.
“Very well,” she grumbled, handing it over to him.
His nearness was making the butterflies in her stomach spark to life. When she breathed him in, she caught the scent of sandalwood and lather from his recent shave. It was subtly seductive and arousing, just as The Book of Love described. She wanted to melt into his arms and put her lips to his neck to kiss him the way Pip had mimicked only moments ago.
Yes, she wanted to slobber him with kisses.
“This isn’t even original,” he said with a feral growl. “This is a Shakespeare sonnet. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely… what the hell?” He read a few more lines, sounding like a growling wolf as he recited them rather than a respected earl of the realm. “He ends it with your ardent and devoted admirer, A.C.”
He frowned at her as though it was her fault she had a secret beau.
