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.
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?”