Taming Wilde (7 page)

****

“Lancaster’s heir! You cannot be serious! He has the face of a donkey and is half
as intelligent!”

“Ah, Sir Wilde, nice of you to appear out of nowhere,” Bridget said. Her mocking smirk
took him somewhat by surprise. Had she been expecting him? It didn’t matter. Not when
Gemma was in danger of making a grievous error.

Nevertheless, he bowed his head in a contrite greeting. “Do pardon the interruption,
Lady Maddox.” Then he turned to Gemma and nodded. “Lady Gemma.”

She only stared at him expectantly and asked, “Did you have business with us, Sir
Wilde?”

He knew her choices no longer concerned him. He knew that she despised him and intended
to marry a gentleman with a title. He knew they both moved toward different futures.
But he would rather be drawn and quartered than let her become entangled with Oliver
Quincy, the heir to the Duke of Lancaster. The man was an absolute menace.

“You shall stay away from Lancaster’s heir or I will murder him in his sleep to effectively
keep him from… from…” Colin’s hand shook as he paced in front of Gemma. “From your
ruin!”

“So now you are my knight? Coming to my rescue?”

Anthony climbed up the steps to the veranda and gave a sheepish wave in Bridget’s
direction, then braced Colin’s shoulders. “He has had a rough go of it.”

“What the devil do you have on your face, Anthony?” Bridget asked, peering at her
husband.

“Chocolate,” Colin grumbled. Too many distractions. If he could speak with Gemma alone,
he was sure he could dissuade her from her current course. She didn’t want to be involved
in scandal. She wanted to be properly wed. She had many times told him so. The very
thought of anything else was pure madness. If only the others would leave, he could
make her understand the folly of trying to seduce a dangerous rake. Colin could talk
sense into the confused woman.

A door clicked open behind them. Colin swore and prayed the ground would swallow him
whole.

“Chocolate? Late-night desserts with Anthony? My, my, Wilde. You do realize the point
of a rakish lifestyle is to seduce
women
, do you not? All this time you are spending with Anthony doesn’t seem to fit, now,
does it? By the by, was my brother the only willing participant to take you up on
the offer of a late night… adventure?”

Gemma pursed her lips together and turned away. Colin swore again and felt his cheeks
heat with embarrassment. There was no possibility of escaping this scene unscathed.
Swallowing hard, he confessed. “Actually, I was speaking with Lady Priscilla. Out
of nowhere, she began screaming at me. Though I only said what Anthony told me to
say. I compared her to Lady Hawthorne, compared her to a cloud, and offered her chocolate.”

Ambrose gasped, and then threw his head back and laughed. “Truly? Well then, you are
an idiot. The woman despises Cordelia. She believes my wife seduced me. Imagine! Cordelia
seducing anything but a potted plant is quite beyond me, but there it is. And poetry?
Chocolate? There’s not a gentleman in all the
ton
who doesn’t know how Lady Priscilla feels about those things. I believe you have
been the victim of some very poor advice, my friend.”

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.