Taming Wilde Page 6

  Colin held up his hand. “A victim. It is safe to say the last thing I will do, from this moment forward, is listen to any of Anthony’s advice when it comes to the fairer sex. There is no doubt in my mind that Lady Priscilla had it in her to toss me over the balcony.”

  “To be fair, you ended up there anyway,” Anthony piped up.

  Colin glared and turned his attention to Gemma. Her gaze accused him. Describing the interaction with Lady Priscilla had not improved Gemma’s opinion of him. His words would have no effect on her anymore, but he had to try. The thought of her with any one of those rogues made his blood boil.

  “This silly business of seducing a rake must stop. Think of your reputation.”

  Gemma arched an eyebrow at him and laughed. “When you have a care for your reputation, you may speak to me about mine.”

  “It is different.”

  “It is the same, I assure you. Tell me why you are allowed, even encouraged, to gallivant about, lifting skirts, and I’m subjected to gossip if I even speak of a desire to engage in—”

  Colin swore, effectively cutting her off. He had no intention of listening to what her ideas of engaging activities were. “You will engage in nothing but knitting!”

  “Is that a new type of seduction strategy I am unaware of?” Anthony asked as he slapped Colin on the back, but Colin was not distracted.

  He pointed a finger in Gemma’s face. “You will end up ruined and stuck with a man who has more mistresses than horses!”

  “Not a terrible life…” Anthony added. His wife swatted him on the arm and rolled her eyes.

  Gemma’s eyes gleamed with fury. “At least I will not be a spinster.”

  Guilt nagged at Colin’s conscience. “Sweetheart, you already are.”

  Gemma reared back as if slapped. Colin stood firm. Granted, he should not have said what he had, but his anger had spoken for him. To be honest, he was more hurt than angry. Why had Gemma only recently developed the need to rebel?

  “Why, Gemma?” He spoke without thinking. “Why are you so bent on destruction now?”

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, Gemma stepped toward him and answered in a calm voice. “I believe you should look in the mirror and ask yourself that question, Sir Wilde. I imagine our answers would be very much the same.” Her final words delivered, she spun on her heel and stormed back inside, leaving the lot of them floundering in her wake.

  “What the devil just happened?” Ambrose asked, breaking the silence.

  “I…” Colin scratched his head. “Does she mean she is as hurt as I? Impossible.” He began to pace. “It is impossible, and do you know why?”

  Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but Colin interrupted him. “Because she hurt me. She rejected me. She chose her family over me! And all because I had a lesser title — because her brother asked her to leave it be! Do you know how many times I wrote her? And the final time I tried to speak to her, Hawke told me she never wanted to speak to me again, that she had moved on.”

  Anthony cleared his throat. “Clearly, that is not the case. Tell me, have you asked her?”

  “Asked her?” Colin repeated.

  “Yes.” Anthony rolled his eyes. “It is called talking. Blokes do it from time to time, and apparently the ladies love it.”

  “I know all I need to know,” Colin answered. “She chose a life without me; therefore, I have chosen a life without her.”

  “What was that bit of advice you gave me not long ago? Oh, yes. Wilde, perseverance is a virtue.”

  “This is not the same.”

  “You’re right, of course. This time it is about you. Always a tougher pill to swallow when your advice is turned back on you, my friend.” Anthony gestured toward the doors with a nod. “May I remind you, anything worth having comes at a dear price. At times at the expense of one’s pride.”

  “I have no pride left,” Colin said, staring after Gemma’s cold trail.

  “Then what have you to lose?” Lady Maddox asked.

  ****

  It was working far better than Gemma had thought it would. She turned to glance over her shoulder just as Colin stepped through the doors. He was coming after her. She suppressed a triumphant smile. It wouldn’t do to let the poor fellow think she had laid the trap for him. His eyes met hers, and he paused for a moment, running his fingers through his wavy hair as though trying to work up his courage.

  “Gemma, where have you been?” Hawke appeared beside her, taking her arm in a rather tight grip.

  “I’ve been talking with Lady Maddox on the veranda.”

  “Odd. I don’t see her anywhere around.” His fingers were digging into her arm. There would be a mark, she was certain. “And yet I do see that bumbling, good-for-nothing Wilde, who appears to be coming from the veranda just now.” He pulled her around to face him, and looked down his sharp, aristocratic nose at her. His blue eyes seemed to pierce right through her. “Truly, sister? I thought I had made my position about that philanderer quite clear.”

  “And I told you,” she said as she wrenched her arm free of his grasp. “I was speaking with Lady Maddox.”

  Hawke’s eyes flashed with anger. She turned away from him and glanced toward Colin. He seemed to be frozen in place, his face pale, staring back at her in frustration. There was no chance he would follow her now.

  “Father gave specific instructions, as you well know. You may as well stop gazing after him with your doe-eyes. That fellow is beneath your station, and therefore any interaction with him is out of the question.”

  She fixed her gaze on her brother. The vein on his temple was standing out, as it only did when he was nearing his breaking point. It wouldn’t do to press him.

  His temper was notoriously short and hot. But she couldn’t help herself.

  “As is my lady’s maid to you.” She waited for her meaning to sink into his thick skull and knew, when she saw the flame leap into his eyes, that her words had hit their mark.

  Exasperated beyond speech, it seemed Hawke could do nothing but seethe and sputter.

  That’s right, you dirty cur, your slumming is far worse than mine. And everyone knows your Achilles’ heel is servant girls and milkmaids.

  “As I said… I was speaking with Lady Maddox.”

  His gaze traveled past her, back to the doors across the room, apparently noticing then that Lord Maddox and Bridget were entering from the same veranda. His eyes softened a little, and he glanced at Gemma.

  “Please understand, dear sister. My only thought is for your reputation and your happiness. A bright future for you. A good match.”

  “Oh, there you are, Van Burge! They are calling everyone in to dinner.” Mr. Percival stepped up beside him, and Hawke’s expression promptly changed to one of nonchalance.

  Percival lifted his arm toward Gemma. “May I escort you, Lady Gemma?”

  Once again left with no choice, she took his offered arm and nodded, while inwardly she cringed. As he guided her to the dining room, she cast a backward glance to where Colin had stood, but he was gone.

  Chapter Nine

  My dear fellows, if a woman seems too amiable, or perhaps a bit too excited to be in your presence, tread carefully. A woman worth having is rarely eager, and if she is, you, my friend, are either walking straight into her trap or you are just a cheap substitute for the sorry bloke she’s trying to get over. Let it be known that rakes never go for the easy prey. Any fellow with two eyes and a… ahem, I digress. Any fellow could do that. No, gentlemen. Find the woman who is agreeable yet distant — beautiful yet cautious. Seduce her, and you may finally call yourself a rake. Seduce the spinster, and congratulations… you are just like every other gentleman. —The Private Journal of Viscount Maddox

  He hadn’t seen Gemma in two days, and he was already driving himself mad. Sleep would not come, and every time he tried to do as Anthony instructed, which always did more harm than good, he ended up in a pickle.

  Just the night before, Colin had decided it was ti
me to visit a gambling hell. Anthony had suggested The Dungeon. The minute Colin had walked in he was accosted by a large barmaid. He’d tried to escape. He truly had. After all, hadn’t Anthony said he’d made all his early conquests at this establishment? Surely not! For every woman had looked old enough to be Colin’s mother, or his grandmother.

  He’d backed slowly away from the woman, but hell’s teeth… she was strong! She’d taken him by the lapels and force-fed him whiskey until his eyes blurred and his teeth went numb. The rest of the night was quite fuzzy, but he could have sworn Anthony showed up and slipped some blunt to the woman before hauling Colin’s foxed self home and slapping him on the back for a job well done.

  At least Colin looked the part tonight. After all, it was Vauxhill Gardens, the fireworks would be magical, and the many trails through the park would provide enough privacy for a midnight seduction. He only hoped there would be a woman willing to take the darkened trails with him.

  Near him, a woman purred.“Sir Wilde, is that you?” Perfect timing. He steeled his face against the grin that was threatening to show itself and slowly turned.

  “Ah, Lady Montgomery, how do you do this fine evening?” He purposefully lowered his gaze to her bosom, pausing for a brief second before meeting her eyes and winking. “Beautiful as always, I see.”

  Lady Montgomery pulled out her fan and giggled. “We are familiar, are we not? Please, call me Alice.”

  “Then allow me the same. I imagine Colin would sound lovely across those lush lips of yours.”

  “Colin.” Her eyelashes fluttered, and for some reason Colin found himself slightly irritated. He shook his head to focus.

  “I was just thinking what a lovely evening it would be for a walk.” He held out his arm. She looked at it then behind her.

  “And what of the fireworks?”

  “Ah yes, the fireworks at midnight.” Colin tilted her chin with his free hand and smirked. “Shall we make our own?”

  With one last look behind her, Alice nodded and took his arm, following him deep into the dark garden trails.

  “Oh dear, my fan!” Alice exclaimed the minute they were past the first few trees.

  “Allow me.” Colin backtracked and located the fan immediately; she must have dropped it. He brushed it off with his gloved hands and stood, just in time for his head to hit the low-hanging branch. With a curse he fell to his knees.

  Devil take it! His eye throbbed with pain as he continued cursing into the night air. Where was Alice? He tried to open his eye but failed. Stumbling to his feet, he walked in the direction she had gone, trying his best not to allow his one bad eye to stop him from this seduction. After all, true rakes could seduce a woman if they were blind. Surely he could do the same! Resigned to his mission, he marched down the path and noticed Alice sitting on a bench near the middle of the trail.

  He covered his eye and sat down next to her. “My lady, your fan.”

  “Thank you.” Her throaty reply somehow made the pain dissipate in his eye, but it was only a brief reprieve, for the next minute, as he leaned in to kiss her, the fireworks went off, causing Alice’s head to slam against his in surprise.

  Make that two black eyes. Perhaps he could shoot for a third bruise? After all, the night was young!

  “Oh! Oh dear! I’m so sorry, Colin. I—”

  “—Lady Montgomery!” a voice shouted.

  “Oh no,” Alice wailed. “You must hide me!”

  “Hide you?” Colin sputtered. “Why the devil would I hide you? Need I remind you, you are an adult, a widow to be exact, and you are able to—”

  “Oh, do shut up!” Alice smacked Colin on the shoulder. “I am newly engaged! If Hawke finds me, I will be ruined!”

  “Hawke?” Colin repeated. “Do you mean the Marquess of—”

  Alice put her hand over his mouth. “It was just arranged! It is a smart match. My money and his money will—”

  But she did not finish speaking. Instead, she ran into the bushes headfirst and stayed there while Colin was left alone on the bench, nursing two black eyes and a headache at his temples.

  “Oh, it is you,” Van Burge said once he came into view. “I thought I heard a woman’s voice.”

  “Yes, sometimes I speak higher in order to amuse myself.” Colin rolled his eyes. “Good evening, Van Burge.”

  “Say…” Van Burge stood in front of Colin, blocking his path of escape. Perhaps he would get lucky and find himself knocked out? “Have you seen Lady Montgomery?”

  The bush next to Colin’s boots moved erratically.

  He sighed heavily and cursed. “Can’t say that I have. Tell me of whom you are speaking again? I find the women I spend my time with begin to have the same needy face. It is often difficult to tell them apart.”

  “If you touch—”

  “I haven’t.” Colin glared. “Now, run along. It seems you are missing your fiancée.”

  “Yes, well… good evening.”

  Colin shook his head and made his way toward the main path. Of course he would try to seduce Gemma’s brother’s fiancée. It did nothing but affirm his original fears. He would be joining Anthony in the Lake of Fire.

  The walk back was interrupted by yet another snag. Gemma’s voice. Without thinking, Colin hid. A man was speaking to her about the fireworks. She laughed her musical laugh that, unfortunately, did nothing for his headache or his heart. Deciding he’d had enough pain for the evening, Colin turned to go back a different way, when his head hit yet another branch.

  He fell to the ground cursing. “Are all trees united against me now? Has nature taken a vote and decided I am no longer deserving of respect?” He threw his fist into the air and continued yelling at the offending tree, when all of a sudden his blurry eyes focused on Gemma and her escort, Mr. Everett, as well as Gemma’s maid.

  “Are you unwell?” Mr. Everett asked.

  “I am perfectly fine, just having a conversation…”

  “With a tree?” Gemma asked, her eyes widened in either horror or amusement — he wasn’t quite certain which, considering he was seeing at least six sets of eyes at the moment.

  “Has the tree… offended you, Sir Wilde?” This from Everett, who was now coughing with disapproval behind his hand.

  “Yes.” Colin cursed again. “For it is erect, while I am on the ground suffering from a headache.”

  “Well, we shall leave you to it, then.” Mr. Everett chuckled. “Come along, Lady Gemma.”

  “But…” She looked down at Colin and frowned. “He might have a head injury.”

  “Then perhaps he should stop living his current lifestyle of debauchery and try to keep himself from consuming his weight in whiskey. After all, his eyes are bloodshot, and he looks completely foxed! He’s speaking to trees, for heaven’s sake! Come along, my lady, you are in my care, and I will not have you ruined.” Everett wrapped his fingers around Gemma’s arm and gestured toward the path.

  Gemma pulled her arm from his grasp and took a step toward Colin. Was she going to stay? Nurse him back to health? Kiss his wounds and… Colin had to stop daydreaming, lest he become aroused. That was the last thing he needed, for rumors to spread that not only did Colin talk to trees, but they affected him in ways… he could not even complete the thought. It was too horrid to dwell on. He closed his eyes.

  “See? He has already blacked out!” Mr. Everett exclaimed.

  Colin waited for them to leave. Though it took more coaxing, Gemma finally relented, and he was left under the tree, wondering how this night of seduction had ended so horribly. At least now he was alone, able to nurse his headache without any irritating—

  “Wilde! Got yourself in another scuffle, did you?” Anthony laughed raucously.

  Colin gestured something inappropriate with his hand and moaned. “Leave me be! Let me die in peace.”

  “Trees do not kill people.”

  “Can embarrassment?” Colin wondered aloud.

  Anthony sat next to him on the ground. “I take it the se
duction did not go as planned?”

  “I found the perfect woman. She was beautiful, not too amiable, and available for an assignation.”

  “What was the problem? Lacked the courage, eh, Wilde?”

  “We were interrupted by Van Burge. It seems Lady Montgomery has gotten herself a fiancé.”

  Anthony burst out laughing. “But of course she did. They announced it just last night. Where the devil were you?”

  Colin hit Anthony in the leg and cursed. “You know blasted well where I was last night! The same place you told me you used to frequent. The women had more facial hair than the men, and don’t think for one second that I did not see money exchanged between you and that bearded barmaid.”

  Anthony shrugged. “I have no idea what you mean. Are you foxed?”

  “No,” Colin ground out. “But I am going to go home.”

  “The night is young! Rakes do not quit when things get difficult; they press on! There are plenty of women. Persevere, my friend!”

  “I want my bed! I do not want more whiskey. I despise the smell of most women’s perfumes, and by my soul, if you tell me to go to another gambling hell I will strike you!”

  “But you are a rake!”

  “I am not a rake!” Colin all but yelled.

  Anthony muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like finally before he pushed to his feet and offered Colin his hand. “Tea, my friend. Go home and drink some tea.”

  “And tomorrow? What do I do tomorrow?”

  Anthony pulled out a cheroot and lit it. “Tomorrow, my friend, is a new day. But I imagine if you put this rake business behind you, you will see life isn’t as bad as you’ve made it out to be.”

  “It is.”

  “It isn’t.” Anthony slapped him on the back. “The best remedy for a broken heart is not to get under the first woman you see, or over, if you get my meaning. Time. Time is the best remedy. Well, that and tea with a splash of whiskey, but that was always my preference. Go home, Wilde.”