Page 3 of A Duke's Temptation Poetess
He supposed another man would have found that beautiful, but those sounds just clawed at his nerves like some wild animal.
“Wales?” asked Lord Watford, Colin’s cousin. “I cannot fathom why you would find anything worth longing for there. There is nothing but empty countryside and wild sheep.”
Colin frowned and turned his head. His cousin sat a small distance away with a glass of his own. Watford was a gangly fellow with rather unfashionably red hair, which he adamantly insisted was more of aburnt siennahue. It was decidedlynot.His eyes were blue like his father’s, the late Viscount of Watford.
“Wales has the most beautiful countryside I have ever seen in my life,” Colin said, “and I think it presents some profitable prospects.”
“In what? Sheep?”
“Always sheep jokes from you! There are notthatmany,” Colin said. “And I mean from ironworking. Shipping. All manner of things.”
“Indeed, I can understand now why you left all of this,” Watford said, waving a hand about the lavishly decorated room, “for the love of ironworking and shipping.”
Admittedly, there was something to be said for material comforts. Colin did truly derive enjoyment from games of billiards, rare books, and good drinks.
“At least I can trust that people are not gossiping mercilessly about me in the Welsh countryside,” Colin said. “The same cannot be said for the ton. I cannot even enter a room without hearing the whispers ofrakehounding my every step.”
Watford took a large gulp of his drink. “Might I say something mildly upsetting?”
“If I say ‘no,’ I do not doubt that you shall say it, regardless.”
“My cousin, youarea rake.”
Colin felt himself stiffen, all his muscles becoming tense. He offered Watford a frigid look, which was received with only a raised eyebrow. “I am not,” Colin said.
“I haveseenhow you flirt with women,” Watford said. “You are so shameless about it that a blind man would take notice of it. And I cannot even begin to guess how many ladies you have bedded. I doubt you even know the number yourself.”
Colin clenched his jaw. Watford had also bedded a number of women, but Colin was too gentlemanly to make note of that. “I do not deny that I enjoy the occasional flirtation nor that I have had my share of romantic entanglements, but that does not make me a rake.”
“Does it not? What would you define a rake as, then?” Watford asked, a note of disbelief creeping into his otherwise polished voice. “Perhaps your definition varies from mine and other reasonable people’s definitions of the term.”
His father, that was how Colin would define it.Colin took a sip from his drink, savouring the burning sensation as the alcohol flowed down his throat. Watford had not said somethingmildlyupsetting. He had said something so unknowingly cruel and heartless that Colin was not even sure how to respond.
His own father had died a few years before and had been found in his study, his body already stiff and cold. It was a rather ignominious way for the man to have died, but then, Colin could not honestly say that his father deserved anything better. It was ungracious of him to think, but his father had been the most rakish man who had ever lived.
He loved his liquors and women, and only being caught in a compromising position with Colin’s mother had ensnared him into marriage. That was the word his father always used:ensnared. Colin remembered his mother’s tight smiles and wan face. While she tried to hide the scandals, it seemed as if Colin’s father only managed to acquire more and more mistresses, younger each year.
Just a few months after his father died, Colin’s mother had too. It was as if the world would not even grant her the happiness of being freed from the clutches of such a wretched man.
“A rake is careless,” Colin said. “I am not.”
He hoped that Watford would not question his answer, partly because Colin wished to speak of the matter no longer. But mostly because there was, as usual, that icy dread creeping upon him. Was Colin really that different from his father? It was not Watford’s comment that had upset him, as much as Colin’s own fears, that his friend might be correct about him.
It was true that Colin was careful with his dalliances. He ensured that none of his lovers were aristocratic women with reputations that could be so easily ruined, and he made certain that none of his lovers were married, sparing the feelings of any betrayed husbands.
And he always lied about his name, ensuring that none of those women could claim thathe, specifically, was the source of their complaints.
“Are you?” Watford asked.
Colin sighed. “Yes. I am careful! How would you know otherwise, anyway? You have never been in the bedroom with a woman and me.”
“A man can only be so careful whilst taking on several lovers,” Watford said, either not aware of Colin’s growing irritation or else determined to ignore it. “And regardless, that is the very definition of a rake. There is no shame in it.”
“There is when people are hurt,” Colin replied. “How would you feel if some lord ruined your mother’s reputation with his rakish behaviour?”
“How do you knowyouhave not hurt someone with yours?” Watford asked. “I doubt that you maintain contact with all your former lovers.”
“That is enough,” Colin said sternly. “We will speak no more about this. If you wish to speak to me like you are, you had better join the rest of the ton out there.”
