The Wolf’s Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(26)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

And then he compared her hair to wool.

"Yes, well, I do love farm animals." Gwen truly didn’t know what else to say. Rosalind had quit the room hours ago while Isabelle still sat poised at Gwen’s side. Poor dear. If Gwen was tempted to jump out the window or slip and fall on a table so she’d have a blunt head wound, she could not even begin to imagine her sister’s trauma at having to live through this with her.

"You do!" the man shouted and clapped his hands. Clapped. As if he had just witnessed a play. "I always say that the best wife is one who appreciates God’s creatures."

"Yes, well—"

"Do you cook?" He leaned forward and licked his lips.

Gwen eyed the cane behind him and wondered how fast the man could move if she were to strike him with it. "No, I’m a gently bred lady."

"Oh, of course." He tugged at the sleeve of his too-tight jacket and winced. "I was merely making conversation, and my house, well, it is in the country and I do not exactly have the funds to keep a cook full time, so when we marry—"

Presumptuous squatty little man! "I’m going to have to bid you good afternoon. The light grows dark, and I promised my sister I would attend her house for dinner this evening."

The man looked to Isabelle and grinned. He couldn’t be waiting for an invitation, could he? Of all the fool-hearted notions!

"Y-yes." Isabelle smiled sweetly. "We are to meet with my husband, the Beast of Russia. I’m sure you’ve heard of him."

"The Beast." Merciful heavens, why the devil were the man’s hands trembling? Was he going to wet himself as well?

"Yes." Gwen nodded urgently. "And he is ever so cross when we are late."

"Oh, well then, I’ll just…" The man jerked out of his seat and walked briskly out the door.

"Well." Isabelle huffed.

Gwen felt a headache push through her temples. "Listen to me very carefully, Isabelle."

"Sister, if I have to listen to anyone talk for another minute, including you, my head shall explode on the spot."

Gwen ignored her. "It is imperative that you convince your husband to attend afternoon calls, or at least make an appearance toward the end. Let us hope that all irritating men will run with their tails between their legs when they set eyes upon him."

Isabelle threw her head back and laughed. "Clearly, you’re delusional, not that I blame you. If I had to listen to one more man wax poetic about your hair, I was going to grab the scissors and cut it all off."

"I would have allowed it."

"I know."

"Please?" Gwen was not against begging.

Isabelle sighed. "How do you imagine I could convince Dominique to do such a thing? He’s still quite reclusive in society, and he despises socializing."

Gwen tilted her head to the side and patted her sister’s hand. "Oh, I’m sure you can find a way to… convince him."

"Tart."

Gwen lifted her hands in innocence. "Says the one who’s going to be convincing her husband all night long…"

"Gwen!" Isabelle scolded. "You shouldn’t speak of such things!"

"We are sisters."

"You are unmarried," Isabelle pointed out, which truly just made Gwen feel worse, but she didn’t want her sister to know she had unintentionally hurt her feelings. So she merely shrugged and gave a saucy grin. "Just because your reputation is less than pristine does not make this type of talk appropriate."

"I’ve had worse," Gwen said without thinking, then quickly rose from her seat to leave.

"Wait." Isabelle grabbed her hand. "You still haven’t talked about what happened when you were gone those many months."

If Isabelle only knew the sacrifices Gwen had made for the family, sacrifices that made it so she gave away pieces of herself, of her pride, until she had nothing left. "It was nothing, dear, just an innocent adventure. Let us retire so I may ready myself for dinner. Apparently I’ll be dining at your house."

"Hunter will be pleased."

"Hunter is easily pleased."

Isabelle lifted an eyebrow toward Gwen. "Are you sure there isn’t more between the two of you? After all, he is an honorable man, though he does have his secrets."

Gwen sighed and felt her shoulders slump. "We all do."

****

Dinner progressed nicely, mainly because Hunter was nowhere to be seen, so Gwen was able to calmly enjoy a meal where she didn’t have to fight off his seductive stares or cutting remarks. Which on one hand was nice — she did so enjoy dining with her sister and Dominique.

But her eyes kept glancing to the chair where Hunter had been sitting that morning. Suddenly overheated, she fanned herself and took a long drink of wine. Whatever was coming over her? Perhaps she was getting ill.

Her mind flashed to Hunter’s seductive grin from that morning, and then his gentle touch this afternoon. She shouldn’t have felt his warm hand through her skirts at all, but she had.

He had touched her, softly, when she came to his defense.

"Dear, are you well?" Isabelle asked.

"Of course." Gwen took another soothing drink of wine and watched as Dominique made lustful glances toward his wife. Now she truly felt like the third wheel.

"I have returned!" a loud voice announced from the doorway.

Gwen turned to see Hunter, cravat undone, a sort of substance down the front of his shirt, and swaying on his feet.

"Lovely." Dominique ignored Hunter and took a sip of wine. "I was wondering when the prodigal was to return. Got in another scuffle, did you?"

"With my horse." Hunter nodded and leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it. Was no one going to help him?

He hit the floor with a thump.

Dominique took another sip of wine and kissed his wife’s hand. "Shall we retire, my love?"

Isabelle sighed and rose from her chair. They walked arm in arm, taking special care to step over Hunter as they made their way from the room.

Had they forgotten about her?

"Oh, Gwen." Isabelle turned. "I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry, I forgot you were even sitting there."

Gwen knew exactly what had come over her sister. A very tall, dark, brooding, handsome prince wanted to have his way with her. She’d forget others existed if it were her in that position, as well.

"Never mind. I’ll just call for the carriage and return home."

Isabelle blushed and followed her husband up the stairs.

Ton families were rarely as blunt and familiar with one another. But most families hadn’t been through what Gwen’s had. So to see her sister giggle like a little girl as she went up the stairs with her husband didn’t offend her. No, it just made her heart sad, for her sisters had found their matches.