Taming Wilde
by Rachel Van Dyken and Leah Sanders
Published by Astraea Press
www.astraeapress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
TAMING WILDE
Copyright © 2013 RACHEL VAN DYKEN AND LEAH SANDERS
ISBN 978-1-62135-138-2
Cover Art Designed by For the Muse Designs
To every wallflower who has ever stepped outside her comfort zone in order to pursue her dreams.
Prologue
Sir Colin Wilde burst through the door of White’s, accidently knocking a fellow over and another into his glass of whiskey. “I am in love!”
A few gentlemen cheered him, others cursed, but he didn’t care, not after sharing the best kiss of his life with her.
His eyes fell on Anthony and Ambrose Benson, his idiot best friends. With a determined grin he marched over to them and slammed his fist down in the middle of their table, making a loud noise and snapping the twins out of an argument about how to rear children. The mighty had truly fallen if the once rakish Viscount Maddox was discussing childrearing.
“Wilde!” Ambrose said, rising and slapping him on the shoulder. “It is about time you showed up. We were beginning to wonder if that last escapade of yours had done you in.”
Even Ambrose’s barb at Colin’s most recent failing could do nothing to dampen his spirits.
Anthony stood then, squinting as though scrutinizing Colin’s expression. “I say, Ambrose, he looks almost… happy.”
“Happy? I believe you’re right, Anthony. Do you suppose he’s gone mad?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. The poor fellow has had a terrible run these past few weeks. A lesser man would certainly have caved under the humiliation.”
Colin rolled his eyes and frowned, for perhaps the first time since it happened. “With all due respect, my lords, do shut up. I have news!”
He cleared his throat and waited. When the two looked at him in unison, he announced, “I am in love.”
“Hmm… I see. So you have devoted this moment to public humiliation. Please, a bit of decorum, if you can find it within you. Sit down and drink yourself under the table. Love, my dear fellow, is a cardinal sin for a rake. You are ruining your hard-earned reputation by spouting such nonsense.”
“I am a rake no more.”
Anthony cursed. “Well, that didn’t last long.”
“What?” Ambrose countered. “Was it two weeks before he realized it was an asinine plan from its conception?”
Colin, as usual, ignored them and blurted, “Lady Gemma and I have come to an understanding.”
“Have you now?” Anthony smirked and nudged his brother in the ribs. “Alert Parliament immediately!”
With a conspiratorial wink, Ambrose lifted his glass in toast. “Sir Wilde finally understands women!”
Anthony lifted his own glass to meet his brother’s. “A bit of a meeting of the minds, as it were.”
“From the satisfied grin, I’d say it was more than just their minds, eh?” Ambrose added.
They both laughed raucously and congratulated each other on their keen wit.
Were it not for his indomitable joy, Colin might have been tempted to tip the table over on them. Instead, he rolled his eyes and cursed half-heartedly.
“Idiots. Both of you.”
The two of them only laughed more. Clearly they were foxed beyond expectation of any rational conversation. Nevertheless, Colin pressed on.
“Lady Gemma and I have decided to—”
Ambrose leaned forward with a mocking twinkle in his eyes. “Arrange a meeting of the lips?”
Anthony chuckled. “Hold hands?”
“No. Wait!” Ambrose snapped his fingers. “Stare into one another’s eyes and recite Byron.”
“At times I wonder why we are friends,” Colin said dryly. He didn’t know why he bothered to tell them things. “We have mended our ways. I shall ask permission for her hand this very day!”
“Says who?” came a dark voice from behind him. Ambrose and Anthony suddenly stared into their drinks as if the liquid was speaking to them. Colin turned, only to come face-to-face with Gemma’s brother, the Marquess of Van Burge.
Before Colin had a chance to react, the man’s giant fist brought a crushing blow to his left temple and everything went black.
When he came to, Colin blinked several times to clear the fog. What just happened? Blood dripped into his eyes. All around him, the room was spinning, and he thought he caught a snatch of a frantic scuffle, some shouting. Was someone saying his name? He glanced up, but everything was blurry. Blinking again, he tried to focus on the image standing over him.
“Fight like a man, Wilde!” Hawke Reynolds, Marquess of Van Burge sneered. Colin squinted at the giant looming above him. Not a drop of blood marred his chiseled face, which really was a pity, because had Colin had a half a chance, he could have gotten a few good swings in. He had done a fair amount of boxing during his time in his majesty’s service.
As it was, he hadn’t even seen the giant fist coming.
But he felt it! All the way down to his Hessians. He wouldn’t be at all shocked to find his body still at White's while his head was somewhere near France. “What the devil is going on here?” Anthony shouted, making a valiant effort to hold Van Burge back. Odd, Colin hadn’t remembered his friend having two heads. Then again, perhaps the second head was his twin brother, Ambrose.
“He ruined my sister!” Lord Van Burge shouted.
“Oh. In that case, by all means, continue.” Anthony released him and motioned for drinks. “What will it be, Ambrose? Whiskey or gin? To think we assumed it would be a boring afternoon. A toast to Sir Wilde for providing such exciting entertainment.”
“Hear, hear!” Ambrose grinned and threw back the contents of his glass.
Blasted traitors. Both of them.
Lord Van Burge shot them both a murderous look.
“Well…” Anthony squinted and gestured toward Colin. “Get on with it.”
“Wait!” Colin put up his bloody hands. “I assure you that the kiss was something a brother would bestow upon a sister!”
“Come now, Wilde. That’s not what you were just describing to us.” Anthony laughed. “If I kissed my family in that manner I’d be sent to prison!”
“He’s jesting!” Colin argued, giving Anthony a scathing glare. “Besides, nobody saw, and it isn’t as if she is ruined!”
“Actually…” Anthony cleared his throat. Blast the man, why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? “I saw the kiss in question, and it was a lovely kiss. I do believe Wilde took my tutelage quite well. Didn’t you also use your tongue, Wilde?”
“That’s a lie!” Colin shouted as he struggled to his feet. Sweat beaded on his forehead, mixing with the blood already there.
“My sister will never marry beneath her station, Wilde. Never. And you are naught but a pretender, with a joke for a title. You should have taken the hint the first time. Now you shall surely pay for your presumption. To tell you the truth, I’m glad of it. I’ve been wanting to pummel you for years.”
At least he had kissed the woman he loved before he died. Blind rage clouded Lord Van Burge’s face. Colin could do nothing but stare as the marquess’s fist drew back in slow motion th
en soared toward him, planting squarely on his jaw.
It didn’t matter anyway, Colin thought as he slumped to the floor. For it was clear the family would never consider his offer. So he welcomed the darkness with a smile on his face, knowing that any sort of death would be sweeter than a life without the woman he loved.
Chapter One
If one desires to be a rake, one must first and foremost practice the art of seduction. It is not for the weak-minded, nor is it as easy as some have said. It takes practice, and we all know that practice makes perfect. —Private Journal of Viscount Maddox
Four weeks earlier
The darkened hallway was providing the perfect escape for Colin as he led the girl further and further away from the ball. Colin smiled lazily at the woman next to him. “You are utterly breathtaking.” He nearly choked on the lie as the girl’s eyes widened. Her pupils dilated as she stopped in front of him. Short breaths escaped her parted lips, and she involuntarily leaned forward. Perhaps beautiful was a bit of a stretch, for she looked too young to be anything but terrified. Yet there she was, under his spell and leaning towards him as if he were some sort of rakish god.
Clearly, Anthony was insane, for seduction was easier than learning to ride a horse. Because of his hasty marriage he hadn’t had time to rid his house of bachelorhood, meaning the journal of his rakish conquests and advice had been still in his bedroom. Which of course meant Colin had been nominated to extract said journal before Anthony’s wife got wind of it. Not that Colin minded one bit; after all, he needed all the help he could get.
Considering the circumstances and the blasted trouble it had taken to retrieve the journal, trouble that included nearly getting his hand taken off by a dog and falling out of Anthony’s bedroom window — he thought it only right that he keep it. After all, who better to teach him how to change his image into a rake than Viscount Maddox, seducer of women and innocent debutantes alike?
Colin sighed. Women were often so starved for compliments that all he had to do was comment on their hair, or dress, or perhaps something more scandalous like the curve of a woman’s ankle, and she was tossing her skirts.
Well, perhaps tossing was a slight exaggeration.
But they were definitely more willing to follow him down a darkened hallway.
Lady Rosalia giggled under her breath. “Are you sure we will not get in trouble for sneaking away to the library?”
“Oh, I hope so.” Colin pulled her against him and kissed her cheek. “After all, a little trouble is good every now and then, wouldn’t you agree?”
Lady Rosalia’s eyes nearly closed as she swayed toward him. If he didn’t get her into a private room soon, she would melt into a puddle at his feet.
He wrapped his arm around her small form and tucked her into his side as he led her the rest of the way to his planned seduction.
But by the time they were safely within the room, Lady Rosalia had clearly lost her nerve. She backed away from him and crossed her arms in front of her. A sure sign that she no longer accepted his advances.
Like a frightened bird, she caught her breath and looked down at her hands. “The library is lovely in the evening.”
“Just as I told you,” he replied. “The candlelight gives the room a romantic sort of ambiance that I’ve noticed women appreciate.”
Her head snapped up. “Women?”
“Wives of my dear friends, mere girls compared to you, sweetheart. You are…” He exhaled and reached out his hands; she grasped them tightly. “Divine.”
Her body slumped.
Colin tilted her chin up and pressed a quick kiss across her lips. She moaned. But of course she did. After all, he wasn’t the same man he’d been a few months past, when he’d been fearful of kissing women and nearly fainted when the object of his affection walked into the room.
No, that fellow was gone.
And in his place a man the ton said could not be tamed, which quite fit with his name if one asked him, which no one did.
He parted her lips with his tongue and increased the pressure slowly against her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and jerked him down. Colin smiled across her mouth and moved his hands to the front of her dress where he could easily tug it down.
“Amateur effort, I assure you,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Lady Rosalia gasped in horror and pulled back. A few things happened then. First, Colin wondered if it was in fact a crime to murder one’s best friend. Second, he was slapped across the face, and third, an uncomfortable amount of guilt dropped onto his shoulders, for he was just about to ruin a perfectly innocent girl.
She pushed past Anthony and ran out of the room.
“Truly.” Anthony shook his head. “Have I taught you nothing? Do you even listen to me anymore? Or do you merely stare off into oblivion whenever I speak?”
“Pardon?” Colin was having a hard enough time breathing in and out and not punching his friend in the face without having to listen to him spout nonsense.
Anthony cursed. “One cannot simply pull down a girl’s dress in such a fashion. The corset will all but get in the way. You must loosen a few buttons from the back like so.”
“Why the devil are you telling me how to undress a woman?”
“Clearly, if you are to take this whole rakish lifestyle seriously, you need help. Blazes, you move as though you’ve never done this before. Besides, if I were explaining how to undress a man, I would need more whiskey.”
Wilde swore and moved away from Anthony to sit on the nearest chair.
“If it was me, I would have already returned to the ball. Deed done, skirts tossed, favors given—”
“Stop, please. I do not wish any such image of that in my mind.”
“They are lovely images; whatever is wrong with you? Besides, I’m happily married, meaning the images are of the most beautiful woman in the world who can make a man—”
“Stop! Do you not recognize how traumatizing this conversation can be to a sane individual?”
“Well, there you have it.” Anthony shrugged. “We all know you’ve gone mad; therefore, that is an invalid point.”
The man had a point. For Colin hadn’t felt sane since the day Gemma walked out of his life. “How did you find me?”
“I followed the trail.”
“Trail?” Colin leaned forward. “This should be good. Dare I even ask?”
Anthony sat back on the chair and laughed. “The trail of seduction. The two discarded glasses of wine, the flirtatious laughter trickling down the hallway, and finally the poetic words you whispered into her ear about the view in the library. Really, Wilde? The view? We must begin with your ability to lie. I find it offensive that you would give all rakes such a bad name. Women do not go to libraries for the view.”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Then what do they follow men down darkened hallways for? Hmm?”
Anthony’s eyes closed as a smirk danced across his features. “What every woman hopes for… they want a kiss. One deliciously wicked kiss before they are to be married.”
“I cannot simply tell a woman I mean to steal them away to kiss them!”
Anthony scrutinized him for a moment. “Whyever not?”
“Because it is—” Colin snapped his mouth shut. He wasn’t completely certain of the answer to that question.
Anthony rose from his chair and approached Colin, stopping directly in front of the chair and leaning down. “You simply close your eyes as if it hurts too much to stare directly at the girl, then you reach up to caress her cheek, like so.” Anthony demonstrated, to Colin’s absolute horror. “And then you say, ‘It is complete torture not knowing what your lips feel like on mine.’”
A throat cleared. Anthony jerked back.
Ambrose, Anthony’s twin, was leaning against the wall, a look of concern on his face as he drew his eyebrows in and coughed. “Hope I’m not intruding, but I was under the impression Colin had been trying to seduce another innocent. Apologies. If I had kno
wn it was my own brother, I would have run faster. Tell me, has he succeeded in lifting your skirt, Anthony?”
Anthony cursed his brother and glared at Colin, as if it were his fault that Anthony felt the need to demonstrate his seduction skills.
Ambrose shrugged. “Hmm… You must be out of practice. Since you are both still fully-clothed, I must assume you are losing your touch, dear brother.”
Colin scowled and cursed. “Why must you two constantly plague me?”
“I have an answer to that,” Ambrose announced, thrusting his hand into the air.
“Let’s have it.” Colin gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to go back to the ball, but being stuck in the library with two meddling friends was not on the top of his priority list. Besides, he still hadn’t caught a glimpse of Gemma, and he’d promised himself he would look at her tonight without allowing his heart to break in two. Tonight was the night he was going to finally prove to himself and everyone else that he was done with love, done with her, and done with being a proper gentleman.
“You are sad,” Ambrose stated. As if it was some sort of proclamation from the heavens.
“Any idiot can see that,” Anthony argued. “He is more than sad, however. The fellow is positively despairing! Just look at him.”
Both men turned toward Colin. Anthony spoke first. “It’s the eyes. So lifeless, as if a soul is no longer present.”
“And he’s been eating less.” Ambrose.
“And drinking more.” Anthony.
“You do realize I can hear you? Kindly have this discussion elsewhere.” Colin rose to quit the room but was stopped by Anthony’s voice.
“We are only trying to help. Being a rake will get you nowhere except at the opposite end of some angry husband’s pistol.”
“And Anthony would know. After all, he practically lived there for half his life.” Ambrose laughed.
“When one is wicked, one has no time to love, and if one has no time to love, one has no time to feel.” Colin reached the door and opened it.
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