The Taming of Victoria Colton

Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

Lastly, as to picnics, they are no longer the cheery gatherings of other days, when each person brought his quantum, and when on opening the baskets there were found to be three pigeon-pies but no bread, four contributions of mustard but no salt, dozens of wine but no beer, and so on. The only thing you are asked to bring in your present day is your very best spirits; and everybody is expected to contribute these, for you cannot have too much of them.

~ The Habits of Good Society: A Handbook for Ladies and Gentlemen (The Last London Editor; 1860)

Day 3 of Catching a Colton

Eleven o’clock: Picnic on the lawns

Dinner

In Attendance: Miss Victoria Colton, Mr Harold Blake, Miss Danielle Carmichael, Mr Oliver Townsend & Mr Audrey Lynden

Gabriel impassively watched his valet depart his private chambers as he completed his morning toilette, noting that the man did not close his chamber door on his wait out.

A pity that such an action would result in the entrance of a grossly fat animal by the name of Cecil who waddled inside, snuffling and wheezing, and plonked himself heftily on the rug close to the hearth.

Gabriel sneezed violently.

Cecil panted and stared at him, pink tongue lolling to one side as a fat drop of saliva coagulated on the tip and dripped onto the rug.

“Bloody mutt,” Gabriel grumbled, congested, as his nose and throat burned. He should not have gotten as close to Victoria Colton as he had done so yesterday. The little wench had passed along her devilish cold.

Cecil apparently did not take kindly to being termed as “bloody” or a “mutt” because he strained to his hind legs and ambled over to one of the chairs adjacent to the hearth and began to sniff in a manner that was decidedly suspicious. “Don’t,” Gabriel warned, glowering at the animal, “even think about it.”

Cecil ignored him blatantly, shifted to his side, and began to lift his hind leg.

“Don’t!” Gabriel lunged, grabbed Cecil by his front paws and heaved. He grunted. So did Cecil. The dog weighed the equivalent to a small horse. He lumbered out his chambers, hauling the obese animal out by holding it under his front paws-

“What are you doing with my dog?” Victoria demanded as she rounded a corner.

Gabriel could only manage a grunt as he set Cecil on the floor. The dog waddled happily towards Victoria, panting excitedly, and Vicky crouched down to give him a friendly cuddle. She was wearing a pale morning dress and, as usual, looked simply breath-taking. He was really coming to loathe the way his entire body warmed just at the sight of her. He was beginning to wonder whether the rest of his life would pan out this way. Would he go hard at just the thought of Victoria Colton? Would his fingers itch to bury themselves in her rich sable locks and would he long to feel what it would be like to be inside her, to have her moaning incoherently beneath him, those wondrous eyes darkening with passion…

Ah, he was torturing himself.

From her position close to the floor, she glanced up at him and frowned. “You look awful,” she remarked perkily. Obviously, she had shaken herself free from the clutches of her cold, having successfully passed it along to unsuspecting victims like him. “You should go back to bed.”

“And miss yet another picnic?” he grumbled sarcastically. His valet had already advised bed-rest. He did not need to hear a wisp of a woman advise the same thing.