The Gift of Love (The Book of Love #8) - Meara Platt

CHAPTER ONE

London, England

December 1820

Of all the bad luck.

Dahlia Farthingale forced a smile on her face as the guests at her sister’s party crowded around her and cheered because she’d found the pea in her slice of Twelfth Night cake.

“Queen Pea! Queen Pea!”

Ugh! They were all still chanting as they closed in around her and Captain Ronan Brayden, forcing them up against each other. He had the misfortune to find the bean in his slice of cake, which meant he was now her King Bean.

“King Bean! King Bean! Kiss your queen!”

Dahlia’s sister, Holly, had recently married Ronan’s brother, Joshua, and this reception was to welcome family and friends to their elegant new home in Mayfair. It was still early December, too soon in the season for the traditional Yuletide cake to be served. But a fire crackled in every hearth throughout the house, and the scent of spiced wine and roasted chestnuts filled the air, so their guests were quickly drawn into the festive spirit.

To add to the effect, light snow had fallen overnight, leaving London in a beautiful coat of white.

Despite the bitter temperature outside, the house was filled with warmth, and everyone was imbibing quite a bit of the freely flowing champagne, mulled wine, and nog. Oh, and there was tea since this was supposed to be a tea party, but she didn’t think anyone had actually bothered with that staid drink. This explained why they were all so raucously merry. But could they not have waited until Christmas to start these silly revels?

Ronan held out his hand to her. “Give me your pea, Dahlia.”

She handed it over, wondering why he wanted it. She took no offense at his familiar use of her name since they were among close friends and family.

He held up the pea along with his bean, cheerfully playing to his ridiculous title of King Bean and earning the adoration of these revelers, many of whom were in their cups. Of course, adoration was nothing new to him. Several women were already swooning as he stood there in his Royal Navy uniform, looking too exquisite for words.

“Ready?” He grinned wickedly and turned her to face him, his dark emerald eyes gleaming with mirth.

“Don’t you dare kiss me,” she said between clenched teeth, the forced smile still on her face.

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “If your face were any stiffer, it would crack. Breathe, Dahlia. I am only going to give you a light kiss on your cheek, not eat you.”

“It isn’t only that. We also have to open the dancing, and it’s to be a waltz. Oh, why did I have that slice of cake? Gerald won’t like this at all.”

“Gerald Wainscott?” Ronan’s gaze shot to her beau. “Don’t tell me you and that priggish lord are still an item? If he finds fault with this harmless bit of fun, then he’s a humorless clot, and you are better off without him. If you want my opinion–”

“Which I still don’t.”

“I’ll still give it anyway,” he said, tucking a finger under her chin to draw her gaze up to his and rousing more cheers from the crowd. He leaned forward to continue whispering in her ear, knowing only she would hear him because of the surrounding noise. “He’s a pompous, overstuffed peacock who cares more for outward appearances than for what is truly important in life. He’ll crush your spirit.”

“So, you like him then?” She cast Ronan an impish smirk, wanting to be irritated and take offense. But she could never be angry with him because he meant well and always looked out for her. Over the course of these past few months, he had assigned himself to be her guardian angel.

Only in small ways, of course.

Offering to dance with her if he ever saw her standing alone at an affair.

Suddenly appearing at her side if a gentleman he deemed unsuitable approached her.

Always finding a moment to sit beside her and ask about her day.

He was a typical Brayden. Ridiculously protective and forthright. Most of all, she always got an honest answer from him. Perhaps a little too honest, at times.

Being a typical Brayden also meant he was big and muscled. Built like a Roman gladiator. Handsome as sin in a rugged, manly way.

He laughed and put his arm around her waist to draw her closer. “I shall try to like him for your sake. Take another deep breath. Our kiss will be quite painless, I assure you. Close your eyes and tip your head