Taming Wilde
Authors: Rachel Van Dyken
by Rachel Van Dyken and Leah Sanders
Published by Astraea Press
www.astraeapress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in
every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely
coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are
assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference.
There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review
purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically,
constitutes a copyright violation.
TAMING WILDE
Copyright © 2013 RACHEL VAN DYKEN AND LEAH SANDERS
ISBN 978-1-62135-138-2
Cover Art Designed by For the Muse Designs
To every wallflower who has ever stepped outside her comfort zone in order to pursue
her dreams.
Sir Colin Wilde burst through the door of White’s, accidently knocking a fellow over
and another into his glass of whiskey. “I am in
love
!”
A few gentlemen cheered him, others cursed, but he didn’t care, not after sharing
the best kiss of his life with
her
.
His eyes fell on Anthony and Ambrose Benson, his idiot best friends. With a determined
grin he marched over to them and slammed his fist down in the middle of their table,
making a loud noise and snapping the twins out of an argument about how to rear children.
The mighty had truly fallen if the once rakish Viscount Maddox was discussing childrearing.
“Wilde!” Ambrose said, rising and slapping him on the shoulder. “It is about time
you showed up. We were beginning to wonder if that last escapade of yours had done
you in.”
Even Ambrose’s barb at Colin’s most recent failing could do nothing to dampen his
spirits.
Anthony stood then, squinting as though scrutinizing Colin’s expression. “I say, Ambrose,
he looks almost… happy.”
“Happy? I believe you’re right, Anthony. Do you suppose he’s gone mad?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. The poor fellow has had a terrible run these past few weeks.
A lesser man would certainly have caved under the humiliation.”
Colin rolled his eyes and frowned, for perhaps the first time since
it
happened. “With all due respect, my lords, do shut up. I have news!”
He cleared his throat and waited. When the two looked at him in unison, he announced,
“I am in love.”
“Hmm… I see. So you have devoted this moment to public humiliation. Please, a bit
of decorum, if you can find it within you. Sit down and drink yourself under the table.
Love, my dear fellow, is a cardinal sin for a rake. You are ruining your hard-earned
reputation by spouting such nonsense.”
“I am a rake no more.”
Anthony cursed. “Well, that didn’t last long.”
“What?” Ambrose countered. “Was it two weeks before he realized it was an asinine
plan from its conception?”
Colin, as usual, ignored them and blurted, “Lady Gemma and I have come to an understanding.”
“Have you now?” Anthony smirked and nudged his brother in the ribs. “Alert Parliament
immediately!”
With a conspiratorial wink, Ambrose lifted his glass in toast. “Sir Wilde finally
understands women!”
Anthony lifted his own glass to meet his brother’s. “A bit of a meeting of the minds,
as it were.”
“From the satisfied grin, I’d say it was more than just their minds, eh?” Ambrose
added.
They both laughed raucously and congratulated each other on their keen wit.
Were it not for his indomitable joy, Colin might have been tempted to tip the table
over on them. Instead, he rolled his eyes and cursed half-heartedly.
“Idiots. Both of you.”
The two of them only laughed more. Clearly they were foxed beyond expectation of any
rational conversation. Nevertheless, Colin pressed on.
“Lady Gemma and I have decided to—”
Ambrose leaned forward with a mocking twinkle in his eyes. “Arrange a meeting of the
lips?”
Anthony chuckled. “Hold hands?”
“No. Wait!” Ambrose snapped his fingers. “Stare into one another’s eyes and recite
Byron.”
“At times I wonder why we are friends,” Colin said dryly. He didn’t know why he bothered
to tell them things. “We have mended our ways. I shall ask permission for her hand
this very day!”
“Says who?” came a dark voice from behind him. Ambrose and Anthony suddenly stared
into their drinks as if the liquid was speaking to them. Colin turned, only to come
face-to-face with Gemma’s brother, the Marquess of Van Burge.
Before Colin had a chance to react, the man’s giant fist brought a crushing blow to
his left temple and everything went black.
When he came to, Colin blinked several times to clear the fog. What just happened?
Blood dripped into his eyes. All around him, the room was spinning, and he thought
he caught a snatch of a frantic scuffle, some shouting. Was someone saying his name?
He glanced up, but everything was blurry. Blinking again, he tried to focus on the
image standing over him.
“Fight like a man, Wilde!” Hawke Reynolds, Marquess of Van Burge sneered. Colin squinted
at the giant looming above him. Not a drop of blood marred his chiseled face, which
really was a pity, because had Colin had a half a chance, he could have gotten a few
good swings in. He had done a fair amount of boxing during his time in his majesty’s
service.
As it was, he hadn’t even seen the giant fist coming.
But he felt it! All the way down to his Hessians. He wouldn’t be at all shocked to
find his body still at White's while his head was somewhere near France. “What the
devil is going on here?” Anthony shouted, making a valiant effort to hold Van Burge
back. Odd, Colin hadn’t remembered his friend having two heads. Then again, perhaps
the second head was his twin brother, Ambrose.
“He ruined my sister!” Lord Van Burge shouted.
“Oh. In that case, by all means, continue.” Anthony released him and motioned for
drinks. “What will it be, Ambrose? Whiskey or gin? To think we assumed it would be
a boring afternoon. A toast to Sir Wilde for providing such exciting entertainment.”
“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.
If one desires to be a rake, one must first and foremost practice the art of se
duction. It is not for the weak-
minded, nor is it as easy as some have said. It take
s practice,
and we all k
now that practice makes perfect
.
—Pri
vate 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?”