Page 40 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
“Yes,” she said with a wistful sigh. “You’ll be charming…a bit rakish perhaps, and in no time you’ll find yourself the perfect duchess.”
The perfect duchess.The warmth invading his chest leeched away, and the cold returned. James stepped away from the maddening temptation of Jules Southby and lowered his hand. Suddenly he needed to put an end to this. “Thank you for the privilege of touching you. You may leave, Southby.”
Her eyes widened but she did not protest, merely dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I…I will return to the main house.”
“Your company has been lovely. Thank you.”
“I enjoyed being out here with you, Your Grace. Thank you for trusting me enough to share it.”
“Do not betray that trust.”
She lowered her lashes, hiding her expression from him. “I ask the same of you with my…my disguise, Your Grace.”
“Of course.”
They stood there with that tiny space between them, only needing one to reach for the other to…to what? James raked his fingers through his hair, biting back the hiss rising inside his throat.
“I bid you good night, Your Grace.”
“Sleep well, Southby.”
She executed a sharp yet graceful bow, snatched her neckcloth, then darted past him, hurrying from the woods and away from him, taking all the warmth with her.
Chapter Seven
“It is a dance that communicates passion…it is the language of love for many. It is imperative you allow me closer, Your Grace.”
At James’s silence, Monsieur Gillespie’s eyelid twitched.
“Once more,” the dance tutor said stiffly. “Recall the Viennese waltz is full of grace and elegance but also vigor! It is a dance where you and your partner are constantly turning either in a clockwise or counterclockwise direction interspersed with steps to switch between the direction of rotation.”
The short, rotund gentleman who was rather graceful and swift despite his corpulence lifted a hand, and his lady assistant who sat on a stool some distance away raised the bow of the violin and started to play. The sound of the waltz floated on the air, and James swallowed down the ire slamming at the cage of his equanimity. They had been at it for an hour, and the idea of another five minutes was intolerable.
Masking his emotions, he lifted his hands to an invisible partner and started to move with the sound of the music, spinning and rotating, trying to imagine this phantom lady he would do this with in a few weeks.
“No, no,” the tutor said, “You must hold your arms up like this—”
The snarl that ripped from James’s throat at the man’s touch sent Gillespie stumbling back, fear settling on his face. Without thinking, James struck, clamping his hand around the man’s throat. “Never touch me!”
“Aahhhh!”
A piercing shriek ripped through the air, the sound too close for his liking. James glanced over his shoulder to see the lady hiking up the hem of her dress and running from the room.
“He means to murder Monsieur Gillespie!” she cried out, dashing through the door as if the devil chased her. “Help!”
For bloody sakes! Biting down the hiss rising in his throat, James shoved the man from him and whirled away, stalking to the windows. The tutor had approached him from behind and grabbed his hand. James’s reaction had been dangerous and instinctive, mildly surprising him at the visceral distaste which had burned inside his veins. Pushing out a breath, he raked his fingers through his hair. He did not need the scrutiny this incident would bring from his family. Not for the first time, he was tempted to banish them all from his home, only to invite them when he was damn ready to socialize, if ever.
The sounds of many feet running toward the ballroom echoed.
“What happened?” the duchess cried.
“He tried tomurderMonsieur Gillespie,” the overwrought assistant sobbed. “It was such a shocking sight. His Grace’s hand was around Monsieur’s throat!”
If James had not felt as if the walls were closing in on him, he would have been impressed with her dramatic rendition.
“Your Grace?” Dr. Southby said. “Would you permit me to ask what happened?”
James turned around, composing his expression. The dance tutor stood there, pale and rigid. His mother, Uncle Hubert, and Dr. Southby stared at James as if they actually thought he would give them some explanation. He’d already told the tutor there would be no touching during these lessons. James’s wishes had been ignored and he was not of the mind to be forgiving.
