The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(11)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

"Daniel! Where is your sense of humor?"

Samuel’s shoulders puffed up, and his cheeks soon followed. Interesting fellow, but Dominique was never one to hire conventional butlers. Weren’t they supposed to be seen and not heard?

"Sir, I must ask that you—"

"Hunter!" Isabelle ran down the stairs. Silly girl, clearly she hadn’t learned the ways a lady should behave. Not that he would want her any other way. Blast, she absolutely glowed.

"My lady, it seems your current state agrees with you." He leaned down to kiss her cheek but was interrupted by Samuel clearing his throat.

"Don’t you have somewhere to be?" Hunter asked.

Samuel turned red.

Isabelle swatted Hunter. "I am so sorry, Samuel. The Duke of Haverstone is an old friend, and will be staying with us for the Season."

Was it Hunter’s imagination or did the butler just curse under his breath as he walked away?

"Cheeky fellow."

"He’s Russian." Isabelle shrugged. "Now, come have tea with me and tell me all about your reason for spending a Season in London. We both know you’d rather get trampled by a horse than marry."

Hunter flinched at her words.

Isabelle paused and looked at him with curiosity. "I didn’t mean anything offensive, Hunter. It’s just that…" Her eyes watered. Blasted emotional woman.

"It is nothing. I was merely shocked you still possessed a sense of humor after living with Dominique for a few months."

"I missed you, too," Dominique said, bounding through the room looking healthy, virile, and extremely satisfied with himself. Curse the man. Maybe Hunter merely needed to find himself a mistress.

After all, it had been several months since his last encounter, and that one had scarred him to such an extent he hadn’t had the courage to face a woman again. The lady in question had drugged him within an inch of his life and then proceeded to eat her dinner whilst on top of him. The thought gave him a shudder.

"Still feeling under the weather?" Dominique poured them both a glass of brandy. At this rate, Hunter would be foxed before the ball this evening.

"No, simply repulsed that Isabelle would find you charming enough to share your bed every night."

Isabelle smirked. "Believe me, he’s—" Her face flamed red as she looked down at her hands, making Dominique laugh aloud.

Incredible. Hunter was now in his own version of Hell. Marital bliss surrounded him, and memories of his dead wife plagued even his waking dreams. He hadn’t thought anything could possibly get worse.

"What are your plans for the Season?" Isabelle tried her best to engage him in conversation.

Unfortunately, his mind was working quite slowly. He blamed the brandy. So he blurted out, "I’m to find a wife."

Dominique began coughing wildly while Isabelle laughed.

"I was not jesting."

"Oh," they said in unison, causing a painful silence to blanket the room.

"It is a mission of sorts, so if you see me acting…"

"Strange?" Isabelle offered.

"Like an idiot?" Dominique felt the need to chime in.

"Yes." Hunter gritted his teeth. "All of the above, I guess. It is of the utmost importance that you do not deter me from my act. After all, it must be believable."

Dominique sat across from him. "Mind if I ask what part you shall be playing this Season? Perhaps the prince? Mayhap the devoted lover?" His friend grinned and leaned back, clearly enjoying himself.

"More predator than lover, I’m afraid. I’m to be myself."

Silence. Again.

Isabelle squinted. "So you’re to play the fool?"

"You wound me!" Hunter grinned. "At least you truly do still have your sense of humor, Isabelle. And yes, if that is how you see me, that is what I will be."

Dominique hadn’t spoken. Hunter waited.

"Am I to believe you’re going to revert back to the incident of 1806?"

"Why the devil does everyone keep bringing that up?" Hunter demanded suddenly, wanting to pace the room and yell at the same time. First Mrs. Peabody and now his best friend. "It was not such a big catastrophe."

"You went to the regent’s annual end-of-Season ball with all of your clothes as well as your wits, and left naked, drunk, and with several women on your arms."

Hunter scoffed. "You exaggerate."

"They groped you."

Hunter shook his head and looked away in hopes to appear bored, when really he was deuced uncomfortable that Dominique would talk of such in front of his wife.

"In public."

Hunter sighed. "I was foxed."

"Believe me, nobody will forgive you that even if you were foxed. I believe you left town the next day."

"Forgive me," Isabelle interjected. "But is that to mean that tonight will be your first night in society since?"

"The incident," both Hunter and Dominique finished in unison.

Her mouth formed an O before she closed it and smirked to herself. "So you’re to be playing the rake?"

"My dear." Hunter leaned forward and brushed her arm with his gloved hand. "I am a rake."

Dominique cleared his throat as Isabelle jerked back and giggled behind her hand. "I’m sorry, Hunter. I just don’t see it. You’ve always been so…" She shrugged. "Happy."

Her admonition made his heart lurch. Of course he acted happy. It was the only way to convince himself he was. If he stopped jesting and making a fool of everyone around him, then the silence would kill him. He was convinced that if he even spent one day without finding humor, even if it meant hurting others, then grief would destroy him. He had come close today. So dangerously close while he was in his carriage.

He could not. No, he would not allow himself that same weakness again. She was dead. It was his fault. He would burn in Hell, and he needed to pay for his sins by living through certain torture every day without her. By breathing when air was suddenly missing.

Shrugging, he gave her a seductive smile, the kind where he purposefully drew his lips across his teeth as his eyes boldly scanned her body and then in a husky voice he said, "My lady, was that a challenge?"

Dominique took a step between them "Do not encourage him, my dear, truly. I do not wish to see him talk you out of your gown."

"I am a married woman. I am in love! I would never! Hunter is my friend!" Her words came out at a rapid speed.

"My dear." Dominique chuckled. "I do love you, and I trust you, but Hunter is…" He glared at Hunter then looked softly back at his wife. "The very devil possesses that man, for I’ve never seen so many married woman fall at his feet. He truly is the best kind of hunter."