“I read, my lord,” she replied. “I daresay none of the women of your prior acquaintance can boast such.”
“Indeed,” he said, eyeing her with a hint of doubt in his own charms. That ought to finish him. A couple of well placed poisoned darts in his more than adequate ego and he would be but a memory of this tedious night. Dare she drive the nail home?
“Perhaps the talent eludes even you, my lord.”
A shallow, sickly smile spread over his lips. Yes, she was getting to him.
“You may think of me as you please, my lady.” His gaze drifted past her searching for his comrade who had disappeared as though seeking a swift escape. Good. The desired effect. No reason to postpone the inevitable. Men leave. The arrogant ones leave sooner. It was a simple matter of time. At least it was for her father.
“You presume much, my lord. For when this conversation is at an end, I will not think of you at all.” His golden-crested emerald eyes flashed the briefest betrayal of his pain. Bridget knew she had said too much, and an icy twinge of guilt spread from the pit of her stomach to her extremities. Her ears burned, and she knew without doubt they were a fiery beacon of her regret. For a moment, Bridget was glad of her scarlet tresses, since they would do much to camouflage her vibrant ears.
She tore her gaze from his face, glanced toward the nearby doors, and waited for him to excuse himself.
“If that is the case,” he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his deep, rich voice, “We shall simply continue this conversation for eternity.”
****
Anthony felt his lips curl into a smile as his point was made. Lady Bridget shut her fan with a click and glared.
“An eternity is quite a long time to fill with enough topics worthy of discussion, my lord. For my part, I don’t wish to insult you by allowing any more opportunities for you to make a complete fool of yourself. Good evening, my lord.” She bestowed a sweet mocking smile, stood, and left him.
Alone.
Feeling quite ridiculous.
That went well. Anthony shook his head to clear the cloud of confusion just as Wilde stumbled back into the salon.
“Whatever is the matter with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Anthony. You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I’m going to lose,” Anthony admitted with a curse. There had to be something strong to drink close at hand. His gaze scanned the room for any sort of beverage to numb his humiliation and cursed attraction to that wretched girl.
Wilde grinned like the fool he was and slapped Anthony on the back. “Cheer up! It can’t be that bad!”
“It is…”
“What?” Wilde looked confused.
“That bad,” Anthony confirmed.
“What were we discussing again?” Wilde stared at the door expectantly.
“Are you listening to me at all?” Anthony asked. The least Wilde could do was give him his undivided attention in this moment of his greatest need. “I need advice, support.” God forbid, he was going to say the one thing he’d never uttered aloud. “I need…” Oh, foul word of the weak! “…help,” he finished, hanging his head in defeat.
“Well, the way I see it, most people don’t use kelp in any sort of recipe anymore. Though I’ll try to find some for you, if you truly need it. Is it for stomach ache?”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Anthony took a good hard look at his friend. His very flushed and nervous-looking friend. “I said help, you idiot, not kelp. What in the name of Hades would I use kelp for?”
“I thought it was an odd request. My humblest apology, my lord,” Wilde mumbled, his eyes still trained on the door.
My lord? Perfect. His friend was going to be no help whatsoever. Anthony made a move to leave, but Wilde stopped him.
“Say I have a friend…” Wilde started.
Merciful heavens above. Anthony felt like being selfish. He had problems of his own. Gargantuan problems. He didn’t have time for this! “I used to have many friends, until they started ignoring my pleas for help.”
“So this friend…” Wilde continued. “He wants to impress a certain lady.”
“Ah, it’s often about a lady.”
“How—” Wilde shifted, finally taking his attention off the door. “That is to say, when might it be appropriate to — bestow a kiss?”
“Bestow a…? For the love of—”
“I know you have experience in the matter. And Ambrose would only laugh at me. Whereas you might explain it to me in terms I can comprehend,” Wilde said, cutting off Anthony’s curse.
Guilt washed over him as he glanced at his nervous friend. Wilde hadn’t a nervous bone in his body! What the devil was bothering him? Must be some woman to have him worked up thus. Blast! Wilde’s reputation was no different than Anthony’s and his brother’s. His current behavior made no sense. It was odd to see him acting like such a nervous schoolboy.
Anthony sat back down with a heavy sigh of resignation. “Is this particular lady… skittish?”
“She’s the proper sort, yes…” Wilde smiled.
Anthony fought the urge to close his eyes in exasperation. “Does this lady have any experience with men?”
Wilde’s eyes sparked to life. “If she does, I’ll kill them, every last one! I’ll challenge them each in turn to a duel to the death, and—”
“Easy, man. It was merely a question.”
Wilde nodded in understanding, his brown eyes still aflame with indignation at the suggestion.
“For everyone’s sake, let us assume she is inexperienced. The best way to bestow a first kiss upon a woman is to take her by surprise.”
“Like when hunting for foxes?” Wilde offered.
“Yes, an excellent analogy. That is, your lips would be the shot, and perhaps the woman, the fox.”
“So I sneak up on her?” Wilde asked.
Anthony cursed and ran his fingers through his hair. He really was in no position to be giving out advice, especially about that of the opposite sex. Currently, he was having trouble of his own coaxing a certain woman to so much as smile at him, while also avoiding the stinging daggers of her cunning words.
“Don’t scare her, Wilde. Simply grab her and kiss her—”
“Grab her? How?” Wilde was painfully out of his element. So much in fact, that Anthony took pity on him and decided to truly show his friend what he meant. With a quick glance to see if anyone might intrude, Anthony turned toward his lovesick friend.