Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(11)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Too what?” She purred.

When had her voice become so low? So feminine?

“Innocent,” he snapped. “It will never work.”

“Every woman begins that way.” She chewed her lower lip and looked straight into his soul with her piercing blue eyes. “So you do not think my little ploy will work? I lack the ability to seduce any type of rake?”

“Absolutely.” Though he doubted it the minute he said it. The woman could seduce a priest if she so desired.

“Very well. I shall simply have to strive harder.” Her nails dug into the flesh of his back as she drew closer to him. “After all, don’t they say that practice makes perfect?”

His breathing became labored as he watched her lick her lips. Wasn’t he supposed to hate her? After all, he was attempting to turn over a new leaf just as Gemma was. But he could not pull away from her, not even if he desired it. He wanted to press her against the wall, to kiss that soft mouth and dip his hands into that thick red hair. Her pupils dilated, and he pulled her closer.

“You may practice all you want, my dear, but you shall fail.”

He had to say something before he ruined her, before he made a fool of himself and was rejected for a second time.

“We shall see.” She pulled away from him just as the music ended. Colin suddenly had the sinking feeling that it was he who was in over his head.

****

Gemma didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she exited the ballroom and nearly ran Bridget down in the corridor.

“Gemma, you’re positively blue. Please breathe!” her friend commanded, taking her elbow in a firm hand.

A sudden blast of hot breath escaped through Gemma’s pursed lips.

“Do you think it worked?”

“I don’t know that I can be certain,” Bridget said, thoughtfully tapping a finger on her own lips. She turned to a shadowy figure behind her. “What do you think?”

Lord Maddox stepped out of the darkened alcove into the flickering candlelight of the corridor. He grimaced as though in excruciating pain.

“What do I think…” he muttered. “I think I’m going straight to Hell.”

Bridget rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Ever the dramatic one. Of course you are hell-bound, you scoundrel. But the question is, will Wilde be joining you there, or does he still possess some redeeming quality in spite of your incorrigible influences?”

“Incorrigible influences! I’ll have you know I have been a pillar of support to that fellow since we were in knickers.”

With a raised eyebrow, Bridget stared him down.

“Very well. What is it I must do?”

Gemma loved to watch their interaction. Their playful banter did nothing to disguise how they adored one another. In their eyes there was a spark of hope for Gemma, that she might find the same with Colin.

“Penance,” Bridget answered with mocking laughter. “For that dreadful journal. No less than you deserve, I assure you.”

Lord Maddox cringed. “Just tell me, my dear, that it does not involve strawberries, and I shall do exactly as you bid.”

“I make no promises in that regard, but to begin, offer the chap bad advice on wooing his women.” She paused as though thinking better of it. “On second thought, offer him exactly the advice you would normally give. I’ve read your journal.”

“My lady, may I remind you that you were won with such devices?”

“As I recall, you believed me to be blind when I did not succumb to your rakish charms.”

“Perhaps I should employ a few strategies on you now?” He took a step toward his wife.

Gemma blushed at the suggestion. It was likely they had forgotten her presence. She cleared her throat to remind them.

“I apologize for interrupting, my lord, but if I might steer the conversation back to my predicament,” Gemma said softly. The whole discussion was the height of impropriety, and she felt that she could sink into the floor from the weight of her shame.

Lord Maddox seemed to remember himself then and retreated a step, putting a respectable distance between him and his wife.

“Certainly, Lady Gemma. I do apologize.”

“I believe you were right, my dear,” Bridget said to him, a wry smile on her lips. “You are going straight to Perdition. Now, run along and do your penance. We will discuss your rakish employments later at length.” She offered him a saucy wink that made Gemma’s skin crawl with embarrassment.

Lord Maddox’s wide, mischievous smile as he bowed only deepened Gemma’s mortification. He planted a lingering kiss on his wife’s fingers.

Gemma coughed lightly. “Perhaps you would like to move into a private room?” she whispered, half to herself. Her cheeks burned when she realized Lord Maddox had heard her.

He looked to Bridget and cocked an eyebrow questioningly, as though seriously considering Gemma’s suggestion.

“No,” Bridget said, though it was hesitant and hardly the resounding answer Gemma was expecting. “Go. Find Sir Wilde. Spread your rakish message to those who need it most.”

“Just…” Gemma interjected once again before she could stop herself. “Don’t do it overly well.”

The viscount laughed. “My lady, I shall do my utmost worst.”

Chapter Seven

Many a man have tried to follow in my footsteps, but how do you follow a legend? It is impossible, which is why every rake must set himself apart. I once knew a fellow who refused to wear a cravat. Women went mad. Another fellow would search the ballroom for one dance, and once he found someone desirable he would make a grand show of waltzing with her and leave the minute the dance was finished, with her on his arm! So, a fellow must ask himself, ‘What is it I am good at?’ Gentlemen, if you have to think too hard on this answer, then perhaps you should seek another goal. For a rake is good at everything and lacking in nothing. —The Private Journal of Viscount Maddox

Colin couldn’t see straight. In fact, he was so angry that he walked directly out of the ballroom into the cool evening air.

What the devil was she thinking? Seducing a rake! And the first man she encounters is that one? He bit down hard on his lower lip and crossed his arms. Where had the Gemma he fell in love with run off to? Granted, he liked her newfound confidence, a little too much if he was being honest with himself.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” a sultry voice said behind him. “I thought the balcony was empty.”

“You and me both,” he answered and turned.