Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(21)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Hurriedly, she gathered the pile of letters, tied them with the cut string, shoved the other papers back into the drawer, and rushed into the hall.

“Simmons!” She caught the old footman on his way up the stairs.

“M’lady?” He stopped mid-step and turned to her.

“Simmons, I wish to visit Lady Maddox at once. Order me a carriage, if you please, and arrange an escort straight away.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

That done, she hurried to her chamber to ready for the visitation.

Chapter Twelve

I despise women. At least that is what most women believe. For what type of man would pursue and seduce women as a sport? A rake, dear fellows. Never forget that a rake is first a hunter and second a lover. You must search out your prey carefully, and you must at all costs appear to despise those you seek. For women love nothing more than a man they cannot seem to obtain. —The Private Journal of Viscount Maddox

Lord Maddox’s butler showed Gemma to the drawing room and offered her a seat, but she was far too upset to sit. She thanked him, and he left to inform his mistress of the visitor, while Gemma paced briskly through the center of the room, wringing the top of her reticule with both hands.

Between the letter from her mother and finding the hidden stash of communications meant for Colin, Gemma was beside herself. She was not equipped for so many upsets in one day.

The sound of the opening door interrupted her silent fretting.

“Oh, Bridget! Thank goodness!” She rushed toward her friend, experiencing a mixture of relief and anxiety all at the same time.

Gemma must have looked a fright, because Bridget’s brow furrowed with concern and she hurried to meet her, taking both of Gemma’s hands in her own.

“My sweet Gemma, whatever is the matter?”

When Gemma opened her mouth to respond, all her sorrows spilled out at once, along with a fresh batch of tears, though she’d thought she had none left. Her answer was no doubt unintelligible, as everything that had happened in the past few days swirled together in a torrential outburst of emotion.

Somehow dear Bridget was able to wade through the mire to the matter at hand, though it took some time to unwind the tale.

“Oh, Gemma!” she said at long last, when she came to a clear understanding. “Such a tangled web the marquess has woven!”

“And I alone am captured in it,” Gemma added. She reached into her mangled reticule and produced the bundle of letters. “These letters. Every one I wrote to Sir Wilde. Hawke took them and hid them from me.”

“Yet Sir Wilde was often groaning about the letters he received from you.”

“But they are all here! How could he have?”

“Perhaps your brother…”

It was too terrible to even consider. It was one thing to intercept Gemma’s communication and refuse it to be delivered. It was quite another thing entirely to forge letters in her name, designed to destroy Colin’s regard for her.

“What… what did he say about them?” She wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to know the answer to that question.

“He didn’t say in my presence. But he was always crestfallen when he received one. Together with Lord Maddox, he would retire into the study to compose a response, hoping somehow to mend things between you.”

Bridget reached for the stack of letters in Gemma’s hand and set them on the table beside her.

“Do not worry, dear friend. We will come up with some strategy to repair this.” Bridget shifted in her seat and tilted her head as though she were weighing their options. But loud voices outside in the hall interrupted their thoughts.

“Hawke!” Gemma rose abruptly from her seat. “What is he doing here?”

“Oh dear, he had some business with Anthony!” Bridget rose with equal haste. “Does he know you are here?”

“No. I left with some haste. He was… occupied.”

Bridget went to the door and peeked out at the scene in the hall. When she turned, she seemed deep in thought. “Conrad has shown the marquess into the morning room.” She shook her head and her brow furrowed. “We have a narrow window of time to get you safely home again. Anthony cannot endure Lord Van Burge’s company for long.”

Lord Maddox was not the only one.

****

Colin burst into the Maddox townhome, ready to work off some of the aggression he felt at having to keep Gemma at arm’s length. Anthony had promised they would box at Gentleman Jackson’s until dawn, if that was what it took to purge thoughts of Gemma from Colin’s mind.

It felt like an eternity since they had kissed. And no matter what he did, he could not rid his lips of the tingling sensation. He could not forget the way her touch had sent him to the heights of heaven.

“Where is Lord Maddox?” he demanded of Anthony’s butler.

“He will be with you shortly, sir. The lady of the house has set tea for you in the drawing room, if you’ll just follow me.” Conrad led him into the drawing room.

Colin sat on the nearest chair and sighed heavily. “Did he say how long he would be?”

The butler sighed and gave him a pointed look.

“Right, I’ll just drink the blasted tea.” Colin didn’t want tea. He didn’t want food. All he wanted was Gemma.

With a sigh, he stood and began pacing the room, most likely ruining the rug in the process. Perhaps if he wrote down what he was feeling? What if he had Lady Maddox deliver a note? So many things were not making sense. What exactly had Van Burge done?

He sat in a different chair, the one nearest the fireplace, but something felt wrong about the seat. He twisted around a bit, then finally reached underneath the soft leather and pulled out a stack of letters.

All addressed to him.

What the devil?

He opened the first one and read…

Colin,

I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. How much my heart aches every moment that I am not in your arms. I will find a way to fight Hawke. This I promise you. We will be together.

I did not know he was sending me away. My only hope is that this letter finds you well, and that your heart isn’t saddened by my sudden retirement to the country.

I love you. My heart, my soul, my body, everything is yours. That is, if you still desire it. How I wish I were not so uncertain! But distance has a way of toying with you, does it not?

Yours,

Gemma

Colin exhaled and dropped the letter to the ground. Shaking, he ran his hands through his hair and cursed aloud, hoping it would relieve some of the growing anger he felt surging through him.