The Birth of Blue Satan Read Free

formed the ludicrous intention of offering for a girl who was “nothing better than the latest toast of the Kit-Kat Club.”
    When Gideon, feeling the heat beneath his neckcloth, confessed to his feelings for Isabella, he was treated to a display of anger such as he had never witnessed, a tirade in which Isabella, her family, and her morals were reviled in every possible way.
    His temper flared, and he gave in to the need to defend the girl, his passion for her lending a loudness to his voice. “If you do not refrain from speaking of her in this manner, my lord, you will live to regret it!”
    “Do not threaten me, sir!” Lord Hawkhurst bellowed, loudly enough to rattle the panes in their glazings.
    “I have done nothing more than express my outrage for your unwarranted insults to Mrs. Isabella in the manner they deserve.”
    “Unwarranted?” Lord Hawkhurst leapt too eagerly on the word. “Do you tell me these rumours are unfounded, my boy?” The gleam that sprang into his eyes made Gideon feel more furious for the guilt it provoked.
    Gideon loved his father, and he did not usually allow Lord Hawkhurst’s rages to rouse him to such an alarming extent. But whenever he even thought of Isabella, his pulse drummed so furiously that he could scarcely think at all. All he could do was struggle to conceal the intensity of his desire, so as not to make himself the laughing-stock of London.
    Weeks of such frustration had fed his impatience. His father’s taunts had heated his blood, so now he was stretched so taut as to be beyond all reason.
    “I say unwarranted , ” he bit back, “for you have judged Mrs. Isabella sight unseen. You cannot imagine the goodness of the angel you have maligned.”
    “Bah!” His father’s craggy brows snapped together again. “Don’t talk to me of angels, boy, when you have been trapped by a pretty face and a handsome pair of breasts, whose owner knows well how to use them to distract you from her faults.”
    “I warn you, Papa—”
    “You dare to warn me? I have my spies, sir. I have heard of this girl. They say she is a flirty piece. The rage of the town . . . Ha! As if that were enough to make her a fitting countess for my son!”
    “Isabella is more than fitting. She will grace our house.”
    “She may—” his father’s words were only briefly deceiving— “until her bloom wears off, and then what? What can she bring to this family besides her fleeting beauty? Her mother is no better than a harlot herself—a gamester who came near to ruining that fool Mayfield, who was a fop and Whig besides! The girl has no dowry to speak of from what I hear.”
    “Her dowry is adequate. You above others know that I have no need to wed for funds.”
    “Adequate? Need? When have I ever given you the notion that a portion of three thousand pounds is enough to gain admission to this family? For such a paltry sum, I wouldn’t accept her if she was the Virgin Mary herself! And if she’s inherited her mother’s tendencies, I can assure you she is far from that. I will not allow you to be caught by a buxom figure. You can find your fill of those in Drury Lane. And above all—”
    As his father paused to gather his breath, Gideon braced himself for the words he knew would come.
    “— I will never permit a son of mine to marry the daughter of an accursed Whig!”
    Gideon winced as his father launched into another tirade, not about Gideon’s betrayal, but about his duty to their party. It was a theme he had been lectured upon all his life.
    But for once he had heard enough of his father’s diatribes. He refused to allow Lord Hawkhurst’s bitterness to rule his heart.
    So, in a terrible calm, he asked, “How do you mean to stop me, my lord? I will not have my love for Isabella sacrificed on this altar of yours. I intend to wed her, and so I ask you—how do you plan to stop me?”
    At his quiet words, Lord Hawkhurst grew so enraged, Gideon thought he would surely burst a vessel. The