Page 78 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
“I think you like it.”
“I do, so very much.”
Tenderness swelled through James. “Let’s head back to my town house.”
Jules canted her head. “Have enough fun for the night?”
“I find I want to sit with you by the fire…perhaps read a book or play chess.”
“You are craving a quiet moment,” she said softly, her gaze searching his. “If you wish for that moment alone, I understand, James.”
“That’s not it…I want to share that space with you, Wildflower.”
Her breath audibly hitched, and an indefinable emotion filled her gaze before her lashes lowered. The air crackled and an odd sort of tension seeped between their bodies. Yet she did not say anything, and James did not wish to speak. Jules slipped her gloved hand between his and he squeezed her fingers, and they silently made their way to the street and to his waiting carriage.
Chapter Fifteen
Late the next evening, James strolled through the halls of White’s with an immaculately dressed Jules Southby by his side. The decor and ambiance of the famed gentlemen’s club was as he remembered it. The marble floored club with its leather upholstered sofas and armchairs was as always a comfortable place to relax, and many gentlemen that James remembered vaguely from his youth were present. They all looked older but most of the faces were familiar even though he had not been introduced to most of the older men. A tight feeling entered his chest as he recalled the only time he had attended White’s was with his father and he had smoked his first cigar with the old duke here.
“I have never been inside White’s,” Jules murmured, glancing around the common area. “It is impressive.”
“Wulverton,” the Earl of Summers greeted, a mixture of emotions gleaming in his brown gaze. “I cannot tell you how damn glad I am to see you. When I saw the news I…” The earl scrubbed a hand over his face, his feelings naked for all to see. “The news of your return was most welcome, Duke.”
“It is good to see you, Summers,” James said gruffly, the memory of their last time together heavy inside his chest.
He and the earl, who held the courtesy title Viscount Holland then, had been in the mountains hiking, rising to the challenge of scaling the winter landscape with all the exuberance of foolish youth. The rocks and ice beneath James’s feet had fallen away and as he tumbled, the anguished cry of his friend had traveled with him for miles.
“I searched for you,” Summers said, his eyes dark with remembered grief. “I did, I went back more than once with your father and I…”
“I know,” James said. “I know.”
A long silent stare passed between them, and his friend nodded tightly, his gaze shifting to land on Jules who stood only a few feet away.
“Mr. Jules Southby, I presume,” Summers drawled, his eyes gleaming with speculation.
“You presume correctly, my lord,” she said in that low, dulcet tone, dipping into a sharp, respectful bow. “A delight to make your acquaintance.”
The earl’s mouth hitched in a small smile. “Talks of your curious companion have been making the rounds about town, Wulverton.”
“An oddity, am I?” Jules drawled, lifting a brow.
Summers pinned her with a stare. “I’ve never seen you in White’s before. Your uncle is a member I believe.”
Jules made a noncommittal sound low in her throat, and James hid his thoughts behind a cultivated facade of boredom, aware of the hushed whispers and many stares rife with speculation. They joined the earl at a table, and James took a healthy swallow of the brandy placed before him by the footman. Jules took a tentative sip, looking very much at ease in their surroundings. James realized then he could not imagine her in the traditional settings that ladies dominated.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Wolfe,” the earl said.
“Enlighten me, Summers.”
“You are about to select your duchess, are you not? There are already bets about the fortunate lady. Any insider information will go a long way, my friend.”
A slight tremor went through his lover, commanding James’s attention. She stared back at him silently, her expression unchanging, until he glimpsed her eyes. A powerful feeling shuddered inside the cage of his chest. His Wildflower was in pain.
“The intention is there,” he said.
“Who is the fortunate lady?”
“It is yet to be decided.”
