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Authors: Rachel van Dyken
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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 pre y . A ny fellow with two eyes and a… ahem, I digress. Any fellow could do that. No , gentleme n . F ind 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 P rivate J ournal 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 time 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
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 pre y . A ny fellow with two eyes and a… ahem, I digress. Any fellow could do that. No , gentleme n . F ind 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 P rivate J ournal 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 time 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
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