The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(22)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

She sighed and took a sip of hot tea.

Goode, their butler, walked in and cleared his throat. "My lady, you have callers. The Earl of Trehmont and Viscount Redding."

Lovely.

"Gentlemen." Rosalind rose and greeted both men. In Gwen’s eyes, Rosalind was by far the most graceful woman she had ever encountered. She was also strong, unyielding. Isabelle was similar. With golden brown hair and bright blue eyes, she was every man’s fantasy. Whereas Gwen, well, Gwen was nothing. At least she felt like nothing when she sat next to her sisters.

The only time she had ever felt beautiful had been when Hunter kissed her upon their first meeting. And look where that had led her, down a dark path of lust-filled gazes and promises of seduction.

Redding was the first to speak up. "I do hope you’ve received my flowers, my lady. And may I say how lovely you look this afternoon?"

You may not. Gwen felt her nostrils flare. "Yes, and thank you. How kind of you to say so."

Trehmont flinched next to Redding. "Lady Gwendolyn, are you possibly available for an afternoon ride through the park tomorrow?"

No. I’d rather allow Hunter to trap me against a chair again. "Of course." She forced her face to break into a smile. "That would be wonderful."

Isabelle elbowed her sister. Perhaps she was doing it a bit brown. She grimaced.

"Are you in pain?" Trehmont blurted.

If only he knew that his very presence made her feel ill. His hair was slicked back with gobs of something — she had never seen such material in a man’s hair. His jacket a bit too tight, and his smile lecherous. If he tried to kiss her, she was going to murder him.

"The Royal Duke of Haverstone," Goode announced, as Hunter bounded into the room. With a flourish, he sat near Gwen and snatched a biscuit from the nearby table.

Never had she been so thankful for the Wolf to appear.

"Blast, but these are wonderful biscuits. Tell me." Hunter ignored the men and turned to Gwen. "Does your cook possess some sort of magic or does she merely add a bit of your sweetness to the delicacy?" He licked his lips and took another bite.

Rosalind coughed. Gwen had to bite her lip to keep from grinning from ear to ear. The fool.

"Ahem." Trehmont stumbled over his words. "I was just announcing to my valet this morning of your beauty, my lady."

"Valet." Hunter laughed. "Didn’t know you still possessed the blunt to employ one, Trehmont."

Gwen’s mouth dropped open as she tried to think quickly of what to say to diffuse the situation. She looked between the two men.

Trehmont’s face turned a purplish shade of red before he squirmed in his seat. "I’m happy to announce I’ve come into a bit of a more comfortable situation. Surely enough to provide for a beautiful young lady."

"Is that so?" Redding suddenly perked up, seeming quite interested in this sudden change of information. "And how, may I ask, has your situation improved?"

Rosalind laughed lightly. "Gentlemen, is this truly a place for such talk?"

"Of course not." Hunter grinned wickedly at Gwen. "Might I say that gown is terribly awful on you."

"Pardon?" Gwen gaped. "Apologies, but it seems your attempt at humor has missed its mark."

"It was not an attempt, and I believe I hit my mark quite well." He turned toward the two gentlemen. "I am, after all, an excellent marksman."

"So we’ve heard." Redding glared.

"At any rate, allow me to explain myself." Hunter cleared his throat and leaned forward. "That particular gown is a pretty enough gown, but in my mind it detracts away from the poetry of your face. The angle of your soft jaw, the billowy softness of your lips against that pale skin. Those are the things a man wishes to focus on, not gowns."

Gwen squirmed in her seat. Never had a man been so forward. Unfortunately, the warmth she felt was entirely false. Hunter might desire her, in a lust-filled selfish way, but he cared nothing for her heart. In fact, she was convinced she would never find a man who would.

Which was why this entire farce was almost as painful as it was difficult. It was akin to giving a child a beautiful new pony and then at the last minute ripping it out of their hands.

She nodded in his direction and took a sip of tea to collect her thoughts. "Your attempt at flattery confuses me, but I thank you nonetheless. No doubt it took you days to come up with such a compliment, and even then it fell flat."

Trehmont began to laugh. "Doesn’t mince words, does she?"

Redding joined in.

Hunter, however, did not take his eyes off of Gwen.

"Say, my lady," Redding spoke up. "Since you seem to be occupied with Trehmont tomorrow afternoon, would you be agreeable to a chaperoned walk in the park Monday?"

"I would be honored." Gwen tried to keep herself from glaring at Redding. Something about him gave her pause, though she had no idea why.

She sighed.

"Perfect." Redding rubbed his hands together and leaned forward.

Rosalind seemed to let out a deep exhale next to her. Most likely in relief, considering she had been so worried about Gwen ever since her return from Dominique’s castle.

If only her sisters knew. Her innocence had long ago been taken, by watching the horrors of what men with power could do. Not a night went by when she didn’t see the nightmares of the torture Napoleon had inflicted on some of his people, women in general. She had barely escaped without becoming another conquest.

And the Crown had done nothing to commend her except send her back into the darkness of Hades in order to glean more information.

She was broken. Perhaps Hunter was right. She was a temptation for a man, but that was all. For she could offer nothing, save her body, to another human being, for who wanted a soul that was so tainted?

Chapter Twelve

Red—

You truly looked beautiful today. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was trying to goad the men into defending you. Lecherous idiots that they are. Do tell me what you learn after you spend your afternoons with both of them, and do not, I repeat, do not allow them to get you alone. Take a chaperone, or you will force the Wolf to become the Hunter, and we both know what happens when the Hunter is after you…

—Wolf

Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat as all three gentlemen sent dirty looks in his direction. Words flew freely from his mouth without his brain once discussing with his lips what should or should not come out. It was as if he had taken complete leave of his senses. What the devil had he been thinking? Perhaps Dominique had drugged him for kissing Gwen. If the Beast only knew that it had been several kisses and he had in fact captured and tortured her.