Page 69 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
She rested her chin on his thigh. “How did you survive it, James?”
“I was lost for a time to fever and delirium. I have no notion of how many days passed, but when I came to, the pack was there, holding a vigil in a tight circle.”
Her chest tightened at the impossibility of what he suggested. “They saw you as a pack mate,” she whispered, awed.
A sound rumbled from his chest, a hiss of pain she wondered if he knew he made.
“You miss them…and you hurt.”
A taut silence fell.
“I cannot fathom why,” he said.
Jules turned over on the cushions to lay on her belly, peering out into the night and the towering skyline of majestic trees. “They were more than wild wolves. They adopted you into their pack. They were your family…your friends…and you might never see them again.”
“I suppose they were,” he said gruffly. “Luna is not alone. She found a mate only a few days before I fell down the mountain. A wolf only has one partner in a lifetime. They are only separated by death.”
A hitch darted through her heart. “That feels beautiful.”
“It is.”
A small silence fell, and within it Jules felt the echo of his peace. She pushed to her feet, quite aware of her nakedness and his hungry stare upon her buttocks. Jules peeked over her shoulder and when their gazes collided, she winked. He laughed, the sound low and husky. She went to the small table, poured whisky into two glasses, and handed him one, before collapsing against a mound of cushions, comfortable in her nakedness with the duke. Jules hid a smile in her glass, thinking it surreal that she was here in this perfect moment with him.
Her belly tightened with unexpected grief.How long will it last?
“Do you hunger to live as a lady, Wildflower?”
The soft, unexpected question jolted Jules, but her answer was immediate. “Never. If I did wonder about it, it was fleeting at best and not a true yearning.”
“How certain you are,” he mused, taking a sip of his whisky, looking very much like a powerful pasha sprawled against the cushions, his curtain of hair falling about his shoulders like midnight silk. “You’ve never thought of children…a husband?”
“Why should I?” she asked, knocking back the drink in a long, pleasurable swallow. “Because underneath the disguise I am a woman I must therefore think of babies?”
An indefinable emotion gleamed in his gaze. “Of course not. But even I find myself, when I stand on the ledge and peer at the night sky, thinking of the children I might have someday. A son…a daughter…I think of the world they might be born to and the courage they might need to face it. I think of how I will prepare the next duke…my son, to understand this world when I have been absent from it so long and no longer hunger to know it. What thoughts do you have of the future?”
Her heart ached at his words. “All thoughts I own are to continue as Jules Southby. To be anything else may lead to scandal, ruin, and most certainly I would live an unfulfilled life. That notion is rather unbearable.”
“Unfulfilled?”
She almost felt lost in his intriguing stare. “Is it not only gentlemen who have all the freedom? Women are always confined to one corner of the earth, under the rule of the men in their lives. They leave one cage and go to another once they are married. I have a sister, Sarah, and I wish we were closer. If I should suggest to her that we race across the fields of our homes, she must first consider what our father might say, and then her husband. For something as simple as a race on our horses. Can you imagine it? Why would I want to live as a woman? A lady must see the man she loves as the great vast sky while she remains a speck on the fields below.”
Jules opened her mouth to say more, but her voice caught in her throat, and she could not utter a single word. The only thing she felt was the harsh beat of her heart.It is so damn silly that I want you to be my sky, James.
As if he knew what she thought, he said, “You would be the stars within any sky, Wildflower. Nothing less.”
Jules remained as silent and motionless as a statue. What were they admitting to? Afraid of the answer, she whispered, “A husband’s ambitions and aspirations must be his wife’s own. To live as a woman, I would relinquish all I have gained in my life. I would never be able to practice as a doctor of the mind or help others. Instead, my worth would be relegated to what my husband allows. I’ve lived as a male my whole life. I have no wish to change it.”
He reached for her, and she set her glass down, curving her body against his. He trailed the back of his fingers over her cheek and down to her throat. “Have you no desires from the female persuasion?”
Jules touched his lips with fingers that trembled. “I’ve allowed myself this moment with you.”
A lingering silence fell, then her duke said, “Tell me your story in full. How did you come to be this chameleon?”
“As my mother tells it, my father ardently desired a son. My mother found child birth extremely difficult so she cast this deception to give her that reprieve. She pretended I was a boy child with the intention to only pretend for a few years. We are still pretending,” Jules said softly, “and we may forever pretend.”
“How old were you when you discovered that you were not a lad?”
“I was a little over twelve,” she said, resting her head against his chest. “My belly cramped…I bled, and I thought I was dying. No one had ever explained to me the changes my body would go through. My mother and I were close, so I ran to her with my fears. She forbid me to ever reveal this to my father and then she told me everything.”
