Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(2)

“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 then 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.