Page 31 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
A short, taut silence pulsed.
“Inside of it there are no expectations, only existence,” he said, once again turning the bird over.
Those words slammed inside her chest and pierced her with an awful sensation. “I see.” A part of her did, and for a wild moment Jules felt afraid that she might never be able to touch the parts of him that were mysteriously obscured.How do I help you, then?
“I cannot tolerate the facile chatter or the high-pitched laugh of Lady Eloise.”
“I’ve only known your cousin a few days and her laugh does exacerbate the senses.”
The duke smiled again, and Jules’s belly flipped. He used his oddly shaped knife and cut into the bird removing the leg. He handed it to her. Jules tugged off her gloves and took it, the heat of it slightly stinging her fingers. “Thank you.”
She bit into the drumstick, almost moaning at the wonderful taste exploding on her tongue. The blend of salt and spices were the right combination. The thyme-infused fat dribbled on her chin and between her fingers. She licked it away, conscious of his eyes upon her, aware that he suspected her to be a lady and not a gentleman. Somehow, she anticipated a remark on the vein of her unladylike graces, but the duke said nothing, merely removed the next bit for himself and bit a chunk of his own drumstick.
“Is it good, Wildflower?”
She swallowed a piece. “Very.”
That small curve touched his mouth again, pushed Jules to acknowledge she really liked when he smiled. They ate in companiable silence for several moments, the chirping of the forest creating a lush ambiance.
“You will inform no one of our conversations.”
Frustration surged through her. “Your Grace, my father—”
“No one. If you cannot honor that, Southby, you may leave.”
“How am I to help if you are so decided and obstinate!”
“You’ll help in the confines I permit or not at all.”
Tension crackled in the air, and Jules stared at him, feeling the beat of his will against hers. Jules was also so very conscious of the way his eyes touched every part of her. She bit into another piece and chewed before answering, “I will only reveal what you wish.”
The duke nodded once. “There are days I feel quick tempered and out of good humor with the world around me. There are other days I am tranquil, and nothing ruffles my composure. I do not like it. Tell me, do you think this a malady shared by many?”
“I share it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I daresay others do, too. I believe it is quite normal to feel the ebb and flow of living through our emotions. It does not make you afflicted but…alive.”
He said nothing to this, however, an introspective air lingered around him.
Jules cast her gaze around. “Do you sleep in these woodlands?”
“Many nights I do.”
She took another bite of her roasted pheasant, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. “That you do so will not be perceived as gentlemanly conduct. Your family does not understand it nor will society if it becomes known.”
“There is comfort in being a savage then, hmm?”
Those low, provoking words had her looking at him. The duke appeared…amused.
“Your family does find your manners barbaric,” Jules murmured.
“I know.”
“Your tone is unapologetic and uncaring.”
“I know.”
