Page 4 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
Her mother straightened with a sheepish grin. “Wouldn’t it be most fortuitous if Her Grace hires your father when you are just home from university? This would be a terrific opportunity to show your father that you are more than able to continue in his footsteps and work beside him in ensuring his legacy. You know that has been his dream for so exceptionally long.”
Jules smiled, raking fingers through her short-cropped strawberry blond hair. She had spent the last four years in Austria, studying in the field of psychology at the University of Leipzig in Germany, where she had recently graduated with distinction. It was there, in the friendships she had formed with her professors and peers, that she had learned to accept the lie her life was meticulously built on, even if she did not fully understand its construct.
For four years she had avoided returning home to England, and she’d bitterly accepted that if she were not considered a gentleman by society and by most of her family, such a freedom would not be allowed. Jules had promised herself upon her return home, she would break down the wall of deceit that had been carefully built around her entire life to better understand herself, the past, and the hopes for her future. She had allowed for the pain and damage it might do to her family and had braced herself to shoulder the responsibility of it all.
Except…now that she was here, the memory of her mother’s desperate pleas and tears the last time Jules wanted to reveal all to her father eroded that decision until only doubt weighed like a boulder atop her shoulders.
How could she bring such distress and uncertainty to her family, who were for all intent wonderfully happy? Worse, by telling her father everything, Jules risked giving up the life and freedom with which she had lived for twenty-three years. Would her father even ask her of it if he knew the truth? Or would he continue helping her to deceive the rest of their family and society?
Her mother waved an elegant hand before Jules’s face. “My dear, cease your woolgathering and answer me. I do so loathe this habit both you and your father own. To stare off in retrospect as if you were alone! Do you not think this would be a wonderful opportunity to join your father’s team?”
“You know it is one of my dreams to work alongside Father, Mama,” Jules said softly, staring at her mother’s wary expression. “I am more uncertain if he would wish for me to continue his legacy if…”
Fear flashed in her mother’s eyes, and she held out a hand. “Jules,please…you must not…” She took a deep breath and smoothed her palm over her dress. “Why must you wish for your father to know the truth? It has been years. And are you not happy?”
“I cannot defeat the questions that haunt me when I wonder if Father would love me the same…if he would have the same pride and hopes in me if he knew I was of the female persuasion, Mama,” she said softly. “Would he understand I am the same person even if I wear a gown?”
Her mother paled, and the misery naked in her eyes brought that awful lump to Jules’s throat.
“How is Sarah doing, Mama? I have not heard from her since her marriage. My sister’s last letter a few months ago declared she was desperately in love with Viscount Halliwell and adapts to life well as the new viscountess.”
Desperately in love…an inconceivable concept to Jules.
Relief flashed in her mother’s eyes at the shift in conversation, however, before she could answer, the door opened, and her father framed the doorway. His angular face was composed, but his dark green eyes, a perfect replica of Jules’s, were eager and excited.
“Jules, if you would come into my office for a moment. I would like you to meet an important guest.”
His wife sent him a hopeful look, clearly wanting to be a part of whatever was happening. Father winked at her, and though Mama pouted, she smiled her encouragement and made her way from the drawing room in a swish of colors. Her father stepped back and waved Jules to precede him into his office through the connecting drawing-room door.
Jules’s fingers instinctively fluttered to the moustache she wore and patted the soft curls. She straightened her neckcloth, squared her shoulders, and swept inside the room. Immediately her gaze arrowed in on the imposing woman sitting in the chair normally reserved for her father, with another gentleman hovering by her arm. The woman was not old or young. In truth, she seemed ageless in her beauty and cold rigidity. The lady was arresting, with lustrous dark hair that showed no gray. Her features held a unique blush of youth; her blue eyes still sparkled with vitality.
“Your Grace, Mr. Williams, please allow me the honor of presenting my son to you, Mr. Jules Southby, recently returned from Austria where he completed his studies in psychology. He graduated with distinction,” her father said proudly. “He also speaks French, German, Greek, Russian, and Latin fluently.”
Jules dipped into a quick and elegant bow to the duchess. “It is a pleasure, Your Grace.” After standing, she glanced at the gentleman. “Mr. Williams, it is good to meet you.”
“Mr. Southby,” Mr. William murmured, his shrewd gaze skipping over her face and lingering a beat longer than appropriate.
He was not able to conceal the widening of his eyes upon seeing her full countenance. Jules was much used to it, and people often commented on her fair complexion and fine bones for a “gentleman.” Even at university, there had been a few who teased her for being a “pretty lad.” She discreetly lifted her hand to her upper lip, to ensure her fake moustache was firmly in place. The stage makeup applied to her face to give it a sterner appearance had been expertly done, and she had perfected her low pitch way of speaking over the years. Confident all was in place, she said, “Thank you for including me in this meeting, Your Grace.”
Pleasantries aside, there was a charged moment of silence.
“How does meeting this young pup help with my concerns?” the duchess demanded in clipped accents of impatience, her eyes narrowing in on Jules. “Dr. Southby, your services were recommended to me by Sir James Reid, and I made the journey here, though I am still uncertain how your newfangled ideas can help my family.”
Disdain and skepticism dripped from the duchess. Jules did not take offense, she was very much used to others dismissing issues of the mind. It was one of the reasons she had chosen to study in Austria, where their field of passion was talked about with more seriousness. There were those in England who did not understand why one would want to study the maladies of the mind, or how their knowledge could even help one so afflicted.
“The study of the mind is not newfangled, Your Grace,” Jules said politely, moving to sit on the sofa closest to the duchess. “The study of the mind and behavior dates back to the ancient Greeks, who created provable science to help those interested to understand certain patterns of behavior, and even to influence behavior.”
Jules waved toward her father. “My father is one of the best doctors of the mind there is in England. I am certain you came to him because you are worried about your son and daughter…and it is important that you do everything possible to help them, even if you yourself do not believe in the methods.”
The duchess stared at Jules for a long time before releasing a shuddering breath.
“Your father came highly recommended by Dr. Grant who operates the…that institution in Reading for those people with unsound…thinking.”
Her lips trembled and Jules spied the dark fear in the duchess’s eyes.
“Are you afraid that…that your children suffer from unsound thinking, Your Grace?”
A harsh breath sawed from the duchess’s throat. “My son…onlymy son.”
