The Gift of Love (The Book of Love #8) - Meara Platt Page 0,12

uncle now, so I thought it would be convenient. With Romulus out of town, Violet isn’t doing much entertaining. I think she would be more than happy to help out her cousin.”

Joshua grinned. “Ah, I have fond memories of that house.”

Ronan stared at him, wondering at his addlepated expression. “You do? Why?”

“Never mind, little brother. It isn’t important.”

“Fine.” He shook his head. “I have no idea what you are talking about or why you have that cat-ate-the-canary grin on your face. What do you think of what I’ve proposed?”

Joshua and Robbie gave their approval.

Good.

Three excellent military brains in agreement on his tactics.

What could possibly go wrong?

CHAPTER FOUR

It was dark, and a chill wind had whipped up off the Thames by the time Ronan left his office and made his way to Number Three Chipping Way. The Farthingale butler showed him in, his face expressionless except for the slight twinkle in his eyes. “Welcome, Captain Brayden.”

“Thank you, Pruitt.” Ah, yes. He knew what the man was thinking, for he had been in service with the family for decades and seen the parade of hapless bachelors fall victim to these beautiful Farthingale women. Welcome, indeed.

What Pruitt really meant was: Resistance is useless. You are already ensnared. No point in fighting the inevitable.

If anyone were resistant, it would be Dahlia.

Pruitt led him into the elegant parlor decorated in shades of blue and then went to announce his presence to John Farthingale, the head of the household. Ronan looked around the room, noting the pale blue silk of the chairs and settee, and the darker blue velvet of the drapes. He noticed the floral pattern on the decorative pillows and other accents around the room. Not that he had ever bothered to look at such things in his entire life. But it was something important to Dahlia, so he did not want to overlook these details.

John greeted him with an outstretched hand, and John’s wife, Sophie, bussed his cheek. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” John asked.

Sophie rolled her eyes and took a seat on the sofa. “Honestly, John. We all know why he has stopped by. Dahlia will be down in a moment, Captain Brayden. Thank you for what you did the other day. While I don’t usually condone violence, in this case, it was warranted. Lord Wainscott deserved to be soundly thrashed.”

John chuckled. “I had to hold my wife back. Her hands were curled into fists, and she was ready to take down that blackguard on her own. But I am relieved you got to him first. He is no gentleman. I would not put it beyond him to hit a lady.”

“Oh, John. Let us speak no more of that wretched man. Poor Dahlia has been moping around the house all day because of him. He isn’t worth all this attention.”

“Indeed, he isn’t, Mrs. Farthingale.” But Ronan said no more as Dahlia, Heather, and their cousin, Violet, walked in just then.

It was a struggle to tear his gaze from Dahlia. Even when despondent, she looked incredibly beautiful. While she had complained about the color of her hair and eyes, it seemed to him these features were among her finest assets. They complemented whatever gown she chose to wear, no matter the color. She looked stunning. The gown she had on now was dark blue and had no adornment other than a white fichu held in place by a cameo brooch pinned to the fabric at her bosom.

Not that he meant to stare at her bosom, but it was impossible not to notice the magnificent swell of...

Violet was grinning at him.

So was Heather.

Sophie and John exchanged amused looks.

Blessed saints.

“Good evening, Captain Brayden.” Violet was still grinning at him. “I hope you had a lovely day.”

“I did,” he said with a nod and settled in a chair beside the one Dahlia had chosen. This met with a nod of approval from Violet. Oh, yes. She was going to help him out. Her matchmaking instincts were on fire.

He could see why his cousin, Romulus, was wildly in love with her. She was a little bubble of champagne, charming and effervescent. Despite her striking beauty, she was genuinely warm and held no conceit. Violet also had one of the finest singing voices in all of England, but she never put on airs. In fact, she was ridiculously modest about her talents.

Heather was the shy one in the family, but obviously felt more comfortable around him after yesterday’s incident when they’d both been trying to console