Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(15)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“What the devil just happened?” Ambrose asked, breaking the silence.

“I…” Colin scratched his head. “Does she mean she is as hurt as I? Impossible.” He began to pace. “It is impossible, and do you know why?”

Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but Colin interrupted him. “Because she hurt me. She rejected me. She chose her family over me! And all because I had a lesser title — because her brother asked her to leave it be! Do you know how many times I wrote her? And the final time I tried to speak to her, Hawke told me she never wanted to speak to me again, that she had moved on.”

Anthony cleared his throat. “Clearly, that is not the case. Tell me, have you asked her?”

“Asked her?” Colin repeated.

“Yes.” Anthony rolled his eyes. “It is called talking. Blokes do it from time to time, and apparently the ladies love it.”

“I know all I need to know,” Colin answered. “She chose a life without me; therefore, I have chosen a life without her.”

“What was that bit of advice you gave me not long ago? Oh, yes. Wilde, perseverance is a virtue.”

“This is not the same.”

“You’re right, of course. This time it is about you. Always a tougher pill to swallow when your advice is turned back on you, my friend.” Anthony gestured toward the doors with a nod. “May I remind you, anything worth having comes at a dear price. At times at the expense of one’s pride.”

“I have no pride left,” Colin said, staring after Gemma’s cold trail.

“Then what have you to lose?” Lady Maddox asked.

****

It was working far better than Gemma had thought it would. She turned to glance over her shoulder just as Colin stepped through the doors. He was coming after her. She suppressed a triumphant smile. It wouldn’t do to let the poor fellow think she had laid the trap for him. His eyes met hers, and he paused for a moment, running his fingers through his wavy hair as though trying to work up his courage.

“Gemma, where have you been?” Hawke appeared beside her, taking her arm in a rather tight grip.

“I’ve been talking with Lady Maddox on the veranda.”

“Odd. I don’t see her anywhere around.” His fingers were digging into her arm. There would be a mark, she was certain. “And yet I do see that bumbling, good-for-nothing Wilde, who appears to be coming from the veranda just now.” He pulled her around to face him, and looked down his sharp, aristocratic nose at her. His blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her. “Truly, sister? I thought I had made my position about that philanderer quite clear.”

“And I told you,” she said as she wrenched her arm free of his grasp. “I was speaking with Lady Maddox.”

Hawke’s eyes flashed with anger. She turned away from him and glanced toward Colin. He seemed to be frozen in place, his face pale, staring back at her in frustration. There was no chance he would follow her now.

“Father gave specific instructions, as you well know. You may as well stop gazing after him with your doe-eyes. That fellow is beneath your station, and therefore any interaction with him is out of the question.”

She fixed her gaze on her brother. The vein on his temple was standing out, as it only did when he was nearing his breaking point. It wouldn’t do to press him.

His temper was notoriously short and hot. But she couldn’t help herself.

“As is my lady’s maid to you.” She waited for her meaning to sink into his thick skull and knew, when she saw the flame leap into his eyes, that her words had hit their mark.

Exasperated beyond speech, it seemed Hawke could do nothing but seethe and sputter.

That’s right, you dirty cur, your slumming is far worse than mine. And everyone knows your Achilles’ heel is servant girls and milkmaids.

“As I said… I was speaking with Lady Maddox.”

His gaze traveled past her, back to the doors across the room, apparently noticing then that Lord Maddox and Bridget were entering from the same veranda. His eyes softened a little, and he glanced at Gemma.

“Please understand, dear sister. My only thought is for your reputation and your happiness. A bright future for you. A good match.”

“Oh, there you are, Van Burge! They are calling everyone in to dinner.” Mr. Percival stepped up beside him, and Hawke’s expression promptly changed to one of nonchalance.

Percival lifted his arm toward Gemma. “May I escort you, Lady Gemma?”

Once again left with no choice, she took his offered arm and nodded, while inwardly she cringed. As he guided her to the dining room, she cast a backward glance to where Colin had stood, but he was gone.

Chapter Nine

My dear fellows, if a woman seems too amiable, or perhaps a bit too excited to be in your presence, tread carefully. A woman worth having is rarely eager, and if she is, you, my friend, are either walking straight into her trap or you are just a cheap substitute for the sorry bloke she’s trying to get over. Let it be known that rakes never go for the easy prey. Any fellow with two eyes and a… ahem, I digress. Any fellow could do that. No, gentlemen. Find the woman who is agreeable yet distant — beautiful yet cautious. Seduce her, and you may finally call yourself a rake. Seduce the spinster, and congratulations… you are just like every other gentleman. —The Private Journal of Viscount Maddox

He hadn’t seen Gemma in two days, and he was already driving himself mad. Sleep would not come, and every time he tried to do as Anthony instructed, which always did more harm than good, he ended up in a pickle.

Just the night before, Colin had decided it was time to visit a gambling hell. Anthony had suggested The Dungeon. The minute Colin had walked in he was accosted by a large barmaid. He’d tried to escape. He truly had. After all, hadn’t Anthony said he’d made all his early conquests at this establishment? Surely not! For every woman had looked old enough to be Colin’s mother, or his grandmother.

He’d backed slowly away from the woman, but hell’s teeth… she was strong! She’d taken him by the lapels and force-fed him whiskey until his eyes blurred and his teeth went numb. The rest of the night was quite fuzzy, but he could have sworn Anthony showed up and slipped some blunt to the woman before hauling Colin’s foxed self home and slapping him on the back for a job well done.

At least Colin looked the part tonight. After all, it was Vauxhill Gardens, the fireworks would be magical, and the many trails through the park would provide enough privacy for a midnight seduction. He only hoped there would be a woman willing to take the darkened trails with him.