Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(14)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Hmmm… yes, I have seen that. So scandalous,” Bridget said. “I have heard some intriguing reports of the exploits of Lancaster’s heir. And he has always fit his breeches well, wouldn’t you say?”

Gemma could feel the heat of embarrassment burn in her cheeks. The conversation truly bordered on indecency. If her mother were listening right now…

Below them the hedge rustled violently, and Gemma was certain that the noise she heard then was what it must have sounded like immediately before the eruption of Vesuvius at the destruction of Pompeii.

“Hawke does so despise that gentleman.” She had already crossed the line of propriety, but then, one did not eavesdrop on a lady’s conversation, even if that conversation was purely for the listener’s benefit.

But the words that bellowed forth from the brush below were most certainly uncalled-for in any company.

Gemma’s heart wedged in her throat when a dark form hoisted itself over the ledge of the balcony in an unbridled fury.

****

“Lancaster’s heir! You cannot be serious! He has the face of a donkey and is half as intelligent!”

“Ah, Sir Wilde, nice of you to appear out of nowhere,” Bridget said. Her mocking smirk took him somewhat by surprise. Had she been expecting him? It didn’t matter. Not when Gemma was in danger of making a grievous error.

Nevertheless, he bowed his head in a contrite greeting. “Do pardon the interruption, Lady Maddox.” Then he turned to Gemma and nodded. “Lady Gemma.”

She only stared at him expectantly and asked, “Did you have business with us, Sir Wilde?”

He knew her choices no longer concerned him. He knew that she despised him and intended to marry a gentleman with a title. He knew they both moved toward different futures. But he would rather be drawn and quartered than let her become entangled with Oliver Quincy, the heir to the Duke of Lancaster. The man was an absolute menace.

“You shall stay away from Lancaster’s heir or I will murder him in his sleep to effectively keep him from… from…” Colin’s hand shook as he paced in front of Gemma. “From your ruin!”

“So now you are my knight? Coming to my rescue?”

Anthony climbed up the steps to the veranda and gave a sheepish wave in Bridget’s direction, then braced Colin’s shoulders. “He has had a rough go of it.”

“What the devil do you have on your face, Anthony?” Bridget asked, peering at her husband.

“Chocolate,” Colin grumbled. Too many distractions. If he could speak with Gemma alone, he was sure he could dissuade her from her current course. She didn’t want to be involved in scandal. She wanted to be properly wed. She had many times told him so. The very thought of anything else was pure madness. If only the others would leave, he could make her understand the folly of trying to seduce a dangerous rake. Colin could talk sense into the confused woman.

A door clicked open behind them. Colin swore and prayed the ground would swallow him whole.

“Chocolate? Late-night desserts with Anthony? My, my, Wilde. You do realize the point of a rakish lifestyle is to seduce women, do you not? All this time you are spending with Anthony doesn’t seem to fit, now, does it? By the by, was my brother the only willing participant to take you up on the offer of a late night… adventure?”

Gemma pursed her lips together and turned away. Colin swore again and felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. There was no possibility of escaping this scene unscathed. Swallowing hard, he confessed. “Actually, I was speaking with Lady Priscilla. Out of nowhere, she began screaming at me. Though I only said what Anthony told me to say. I compared her to Lady Hawthorne, compared her to a cloud, and offered her chocolate.”

Ambrose gasped, and then threw his head back and laughed. “Truly? Well then, you are an idiot. The woman despises Cordelia. She believes my wife seduced me. Imagine! Cordelia seducing anything but a potted plant is quite beyond me, but there it is. And poetry? Chocolate? There’s not a gentleman in all the ton who doesn’t know how Lady Priscilla feels about those things. I believe you have been the victim of some very poor advice, my friend.”

Colin held up his hand. “A victim. It is safe to say the last thing I will do, from this moment forward, is listen to any of Anthony’s advice when it comes to the fairer sex. There is no doubt in my mind that Lady Priscilla had it in her to toss me over the balcony.”

“To be fair, you ended up there anyway,” Anthony piped up.

Colin glared and turned his attention to Gemma. Her gaze accused him. Describing the interaction with Lady Priscilla had not improved Gemma’s opinion of him. His words would have no effect on her anymore, but he had to try. The thought of her with any one of those rogues made his blood boil.

“This silly business of seducing a rake must stop. Think of your reputation.”

Gemma arched an eyebrow at him and laughed. “When you have a care for your reputation, you may speak to me about mine.”

“It is different.”

“It is the same, I assure you. Tell me why you are allowed, even encouraged, to gallivant about, lifting skirts, and I’m subjected to gossip if I even speak of a desire to engage in—”

Colin swore, effectively cutting her off. He had no intention of listening to what her ideas of engaging activities were. “You will engage in nothing but knitting!”

“Is that a new type of seduction strategy I am unaware of?” Anthony asked as he slapped Colin on the back, but Colin was not distracted.

He pointed a finger in Gemma’s face. “You will end up ruined and stuck with a man who has more mistresses than horses!”

“Not a terrible life…” Anthony added. His wife swatted him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

Gemma’s eyes gleamed with fury. “At least I will not be a spinster.”

Guilt nagged at Colin’s conscience. “Sweetheart, you already are.”

Gemma reared back as if slapped. Colin stood firm. Granted, he should not have said what he had, but his anger had spoken for him. To be honest, he was more hurt than angry. Why had Gemma only recently developed the need to rebel?

“Why, Gemma?” He spoke without thinking. “Why are you so bent on destruction now?”

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Gemma stepped toward him and answered in a calm voice. “I believe you should look in the mirror and ask yourself that question, Sir Wilde. I imagine our answers would be very much the same.” Her final words delivered, she spun on her heel and stormed back inside, leaving the lot of them floundering in her wake.