Taming Wilde (Waltzing with the Wallflower #3)(26)

“What… what did he say about them?” She wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to know the answer to that question.

“He didn’t say in my presence. But he was always crestfallen when he received one. Together with Lord Maddox, he would retire into the study to compose a response, hoping somehow to mend things between you.”

Bridget reached for the stack of letters in Gemma’s hand and set them on the table beside her.

“Do not worry, dear friend. We will come up with some strategy to repair this.” Bridget shifted in her seat and tilted her head as though she were weighing their options. But loud voices outside in the hall interrupted their thoughts.

“Hawke!” Gemma rose abruptly from her seat. “What is he doing here?”

“Oh dear, he had some business with Anthony!” Bridget rose with equal haste. “Does he know you are here?”

“No. I left with some haste. He was… occupied.”

Bridget went to the door and peeked out at the scene in the hall. When she turned, she seemed deep in thought. “Conrad has shown the marquess into the morning room.” She shook her head and her brow furrowed. “We have a narrow window of time to get you safely home again. Anthony cannot endure Lord Van Burge’s company for long.”

Lord Maddox was not the only one.

****



Colin burst into the Maddox townhome, ready to work off some of the aggression he felt at having to keep Gemma at arm’s length. Anthony had promised they would box at Gentleman Jackson’s until dawn, if that was what it took to purge thoughts of Gemma from Colin’s mind.

It felt like an eternity since they had kissed. And no matter what he did, he could not rid his lips of the tingling sensation. He could not forget the way her touch had sent him to the heights of heaven.

“Where is Lord Maddox?” he demanded of Anthony’s butler.

“He will be with you shortly, sir. The lady of the house has set tea for you in the drawing room, if you’ll just follow me.” Conrad led him into the drawing room.

Colin sat on the nearest chair and sighed heavily. “Did he say how long he would be?”

The butler sighed and gave him a pointed look.

“Right, I’ll just drink the blasted tea.” Colin didn’t want tea. He didn’t want food. All he wanted was Gemma.

With a sigh, he stood and began pacing the room, most likely ruining the rug in the process. Perhaps if he wrote down what he was feeling? What if he had Lady Maddox deliver a note? So many things were not making sense. What exactly had Van Burge done?

He sat in a different chair, the one nearest the fireplace, but something felt wrong about the seat. He twisted around a bit, then finally reached underneath the soft leather and pulled out a stack of letters.

All addressed to him.

What the devil?

He opened the first one and read…





Colin,

I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. How much my heart aches every moment that I am not in your arms. I will find a way to fight Hawke. This I promise you. We will be together.

I did not know he was sending me away. My only hope is that this letter finds you well, and that your heart isn’t saddened by my sudden retirement to the country.

I love you. My heart, my soul, my body, everything is yours. That is, if you still desire it. How I wish I were not so uncertain! But distance has a way of toying with you, does it not?

Yours,

Gemma



Colin exhaled and dropped the letter to the ground. Shaking, he ran his hands through his hair and cursed aloud, hoping it would relieve some of the growing anger he felt surging through him.

She had not rejected him.

But that still did not explain…

This letter was a far cry from the letters he had received. Letters that spurned him and bid him to forget she existed, to think not on her again. Letters that demanded he wipe the memory of kissing her from his mind forever.

Why had he not received this letter? Colin stooped to retrieve the letter. He opened it and scanned the contents again. Its lilac scent permeated his senses.

The other letters had smelled of rose. And the script was different. There was no flourish on the G of Gemma’s signature.

He grabbed another letter from the stack and opened it. Same writing as the first. Letter after letter, the same.

Perhaps if he had not received her true letters, she did not—

Of course.

He was a fool.

He grabbed all the letters, bundled them together, and slipped them into his coat pocket. With a grin and not so much as a word to the butler, he quit the house and walked purposefully toward Gemma’s.



****



She wasn’t home.

Nor was she at the park.

Or down the street.

Or at Gunther’s. Colin would know. He checked. An hour later, he was still wondering where the blazes she was, but he could not be late for that evening’s soiree hosted by Lady Edengreen. She would be furious if he did not show. After all, she was his great aunt and prone to throwing a great fuss if her nephew was not present at her events.

Dejected, he went home to change into his evening attire. The minute he stepped into his townhome, his butler, Godfrey, handed him a letter from his solicitor.

It would have to wait.

“Apologies, Godfrey, I will be out all evening. I shall check my correspondence in the morning.”