The Wolf's Pursuit (London Fairy Tales #3)(28)

Rosalind laughed lightly. "Gentlemen, is this truly a place for such talk?"

"Of course not." Hunter grinned wickedly at Gwen. "Might I say that gown is terribly awful on you."

"Pardon?" Gwen gaped. "Apologies, but it seems your attempt at humor has missed its mark."

"It was not an attempt, and I believe I hit my mark quite well." He turned toward the two gentlemen. "I am, after all, an excellent marksman."

"So we've heard." Redding glared.

"At any rate, allow me to explain myself." Hunter cleared his throat and leaned forward. "That particular gown is a pretty enough gown, but in my mind it detracts away from the poetry of your face. The angle of your soft jaw, the billowy softness of your lips against that pale skin. Those are the things a man wishes to focus on, not gowns."

Gwen squirmed in her seat. Never had a man been so forward. Unfortunately, the warmth she felt was entirely false. Hunter might desire her, in a lust-filled selfish way, but he cared nothing for her heart. In fact, she was convinced she would never find a man who would.

Which was why this entire farce was almost as painful as it was difficult. It was akin to giving a child a beautiful new pony and then at the last minute ripping it out of their hands.

She nodded in his direction and took a sip of tea to collect her thoughts. "Your attempt at flattery confuses me, but I thank you nonetheless. No doubt it took you days to come up with such a compliment, and even then it fell flat."

Trehmont began to laugh. "Doesn't mince words, does she?"

Redding joined in.

Hunter, however, did not take his eyes off of Gwen.

"Say, my lady," Redding spoke up. "Since you seem to be occupied with Trehmont tomorrow afternoon, would you be agreeable to a chaperoned walk in the park Monday?"

"I would be honored." Gwen tried to keep herself from glaring at Redding. Something about him gave her pause, though she had no idea why.

She sighed.

"Perfect." Redding rubbed his hands together and leaned forward.

Rosalind seemed to let out a deep exhale next to her. Most likely in relief, considering she had been so worried about Gwen ever since her return from Dominique's castle.

If only her sisters knew. Her innocence had long ago been taken, by watching the horrors of what men with power could do. Not a night went by when she didn't see the nightmares of the torture Napoleon had inflicted on some of his people, women in general. She had barely escaped without becoming another conquest.

And the Crown had done nothing to commend her except send her back into the darkness of Hades in order to glean more information.

She was broken. Perhaps Hunter was right. She was a temptation for a man, but that was all. For she could offer nothing, save her body, to another human being, for who wanted a soul that was so tainted?





Chapter Twelve





Red—

You truly looked beautiful today. I didn't mean to upset you. I was trying to goad the men into defending you. Lecherous idiots that they are. Do tell me what you learn after you spend your afternoons with both of them, and do not, I repeat, do not allow them to get you alone. Take a chaperone, or you will force the Wolf to become the Hunter, and we both know what happens when the Hunter is after you…

—Wolf





Hunter shifted uncomfortably in his seat as all three gentlemen sent dirty looks in his direction. Words flew freely from his mouth without his brain once discussing with his lips what should or should not come out. It was as if he had taken complete leave of his senses. What the devil had he been thinking? Perhaps Dominique had drugged him for kissing Gwen. If the Beast only knew that it had been several kisses and he had in fact captured and tortured her.

The image of his body floating face-down in the river wasn't even enough to keep him from wanting to slap himself for his foolish words.

For him, a man of excellent seduction skills, to tell a woman in front of other men, no less, that she looked awful! He'd nearly groaned when he saw her face fall. Her dress was awful. It had nothing to do with what was beneath it, but it was entirely too proper for his liking.

He liked her in red.

Curse the woman.

Now every time he saw her, she seemed to be wearing some ugly color that made him want to rip the dress from her frame.

Which his body quite agreed with.

Though he imagined her sisters wouldn't have been pleased with him. In some ways, he was angry with Gwen. She was a temptation he could not afford, not with the lives of people he cared about in the balance. Yet there she was, a conundrum if there ever was one.

It made him uneasy to see Trehmont and Redding in the drawing room and even more nervous that Gwen would be spending time with them. Yet the plan was working perfectly. Both men seemed entranced by her. Who would not be? Considering they were being pressured to settle down this Season, it was hardly difficult to get the men to fawn over her. Now at least it would be easier to follow them and keep a watchful eye on their actions. His nose suddenly pained him. He reached up and touched it. At least he knew she could defend herself.

The tea became cold in his cup. He put it down on the table and rose to excuse himself, when the butler entered again.

"The Earl of Eastbrook."

Trapped, with no way to escape, Hunter sat back down.