The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(15)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Gwen gasped.

"The men, however, are another matter entirely. You see, men notice the blush. That much is true. It tells them that against popular gossip, you are in fact quite innocent. And the way your eyes blaze tells them the rest."

"My eyes?"

"Yes."

The dance was nearing an end. Hunter guided their steps to where she would be most visible by the ton.

"I don’t understand. What do my eyes have to do with anything?"

"They show your spirit. Your fire, but my dear, they speak one language I fear every man in this room is just begging to use with you."

She lifted an eyebrow.

He leaned in, gripping her body so she could not run off, and whispered into her ear. "Sex. You look like sex."

Gwen jerked away from him, nearly tumbling to her bottom, righted her skirts, and slapped him across the face.

People gasped.

Women began to gossip, and as expected, a few women, ones he was sure had just given the girl the cut direct not a week before, were huddling around her and telling her to stay away from his evils.

Hunter rubbed his cheek and walked by a few gentlemen.

One stopped him. "I say, what did you do to make the lady so offended?"

"The lady did not care for my advances," Hunter admitted, appearing to look quite put out as he shook his head and cursed. "I thought she was tainted, but it appears the joke has been on all us young men. To think, she wants to marry! And it has been proven, though you did not hear this from me, that the lady herself is untouched."

"Untouched," another man whispered.

And much like wildfire, or a storm, or perhaps a giant explosion taking place in the room, it was spread that Gwen was entering into the marriage mart, and she was completely pure.

Hunter walked off to a darkened corner and exhaled.

"Well done," Wilkins said behind him.

Hunter did not turn around. Instead he nodded his head just once and went in search of Gwen. By now she would be exhausted, and he needed to watch her every move. The game had been laid out, the pieces moved.

Chapter Five

Wolf—

The only thing you’ll be eating is your words and perhaps any crumbs of humility I decide to throw your way! You are a deceitful, horrible person! If I find myself in your arms again before the week is out I will pull a pistol on your most useful and favorite anatomical part!

– Red

The man was either a genius or purely insane. Men came in throngs from the ballroom’s distant corners, each of them expressing sudden interest in taking her for a ride in the park or asking her opinion about some new poetry written by Byron. Another asked her if she was free to marry as soon as the end of the week!

At least now she was able to concentrate on her targets.

Wilkins had sent her a note stating that the following three men were suspected of treason.

Lord Trehmont, Sir Hollins, and Lord Redding.

Men who, by all appearances, valued propriety above all else.

But she knew their secrets.

Trehmont was in debt up to his ears, and to some powerful people within the fallen French aristocracy. Meaning they were finally calling out all the debt. But was he desperate enough to betray his country? Or murder someone because of it?

Hollins was a young idiot who had more money than sense. His desire was to buy himself a better title, but nobody seemed to be willing to give him the time of day. It was rumored he also enjoyed sexual escapades that were enough to make any debutante, or woman for that matter, cringe. She could see him killing someone. In fact, she could see him doing a lot of terrible things in order to gain power.

And finally Redding. Unfortunately, she knew nothing about him. Only that he was devastatingly handsome and rumored to have grotesque scars from the war. Though one couldn’t see the scars by looking at him.

He still walked with a slight limp, but that didn’t keep females from chasing after him. The poor man often resorted to hiding. He was akin to the last antelope at a dinner party for lions.

With a sigh, Gwen squared her shoulders and batted her lashes at the men surrounding her, each of them in her mind a suspect.

She ignored most of the conversation, allowing them to fuss about her and compliment her dress. The smile felt frozen across her face as each and every one of the men, around ten of them, continued to pay her false compliments, all the while leering at her br**sts and panting after her.

Gwen wasn’t vain enough to think it was her looks that gained her acceptance, but the fact that the great Wolf had declared her pure and she had slapped away his advances. Men.

After being asked if she was receiving callers in the afternoon, to which she replied yes, she decided to remove herself from the situation.

"Gentlemen, it is dreadfully hot, is it not?" With a flourish, she pulled out her fan and began dramatically fanning her face.

"Well then." Trehmont cleared his throat and stood directly in front of her. "It seems all the lady needs is a brisk walk into the cool night air with a willing gentleman." He reached for her free hand, but was slapped away by another intruder.

"Terribly sorry, Trehmont, but it seems the lady has already promised to take the air with me." Hunter’s voice was like silk compared to the rest of the men’s.

"As the lady wishes." Trehmont grimaced, showing his vast irritation. Gwen thought it a kindness that she would talk to him at all, considering the circumstances. It would be a trial to even speak with the man longer than a few minutes, let alone let him touch her person.

She shivered at the thought as Hunter led her toward the outskirts of the ballroom.

"Trembling beneath my touch, my sweet?"

Gwen rolled her eyes but kept her smile firmly in place as they passed curious onlookers. "Yes, it seems you’ve caught me, Hunter. Your touch turns me to liquid, your kiss makes my knees weak, please, let us marry and be done with this whole charade."

Hunter sighed. "I leave you for five minutes and the dove turns into a shrew."

"Are you always this poetic?"

Hunter clenched her arm tighter as he led her toward the doors to the balcony. "Always."

Gwen smirked and stole a sideways glance at the man. His golden eyes were trained on the door, his perfect devil-may-care smile in place, but he was rigid with tension.

She cleared her throat. "You should have given me more time with the gentlemen. I need to be in their confidence if I am to find out their secrets."

Hunter snorted and finally looked at her. "Believe me, they were within seconds of blurting every blasted secret in the known universe." Why did he sound so irritated?