Page 83 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
Jules pushed to her feet, stepping away from him because she was within a second of leaning forward and putting her cheek against his chest. “The one you are to marry is Lady Emelia. If not her…despite all the gossips society loves you and half of the maidens are already in love with you. Anyone will be happy to be your duchess.”
Her heart thumped in her throat, almost blocking words. Her tears blurred her vision as she stared up at him. “You and I both know that to be in this world as a wife…a duchess, I will not be allowed to study or pursue any passion that is mine. Marrying you would mean giving up…everything, James. Perhaps…perhaps we could be friends.”
“No.”
She flinched. “James—”
He cupped her chin between his hands and held her, looking down into her eyes.
James’s eyes were dark and empty.
“It would not be fair to anyone I would eventually marry or take to be my lover if we are to remain acquaintances, for I will want you always,” he said gruffly. “There is no force on this earth that can stop how I long for you. None.”
He lowered his hands and stepped back. “I understand, do not believe I do not. I saw you in London…you glowed with fire and passion and purpose. I understood what I ridiculously asked you to relinquish even as I damned myself for wanting you so much as to ask.”
His mask cracked, and naked pain was laid bare in his gaze. She cried out when she saw it, and she reached for him only to drop her hand when he stepped back. She understood then the controlled facade just now was to hide the anguish tearing at him. This was a man who felt…who loved…and he had laid his heart bare to her even knowing she might reject him.
Oh God, James. What would it be like to sleep in his arms every night? To be the person to listen to his fears, to smooth that deep groove in his brows and help him shoulder his worry? What would it be like to live as a lady with him, carry this man’s child…and to learn alongside him how to love and laugh with that child? What would it be like to try and live as a duchess…understand such a role and power and bear the scrutiny of walking beside him.
Jules stared mutely at him, shocked at the dark anguish resounding inside of her chest. Such a life was not for her…it had never been her hope or dream so why should it now pierce her heart with such acute yearning?
An elusive emotion crackled through her, and she held her breath until it burned the back of her throat, then Jules released it in a shallow rasp.
Everything felt too sudden and chaotic, there was not enough time for her to think or understand the emotions tearing through her. “James…” She bit her lip, for no other words would come forth.
At her silence James visibly slammed the door closed with his ruthless iron will, and she hated the fear that tore through her to see it.
It was the powerful and austere duke who dipped into a bow. “Goodbye, Jules Southby. I wish you only success in your endeavors.”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Jules took several breaths to steady herself, to push down the swirl of emotions still trying to dig their claws into her. A sob tore from her, and she dropped to the ground, leaned her head between her legs, and wept. The sounds were raw and unchecked and went on for long minutes with only the sounds of the forest keeping her company. It took an incalculable effort to subdue the wild grief ripping through her heart, but she did it, whirled around, and made her way to the stables. She would mount her horse, ride away, and Jules knew she would never again see or speak with the Duke of Wulverton.
Chapter Sixteen
Sleep eluded James, memories of his Wildflower chased his thoughts like a specter. Jules Southby and Dr. Southby had departed Longbourn Park hours ago. It had taken immeasurable will to maintain a facade of civility when everything inside him roared like the most feral of wounded creatures. Logically he knew he had to let her go. This was not the life she wanted, and it shredded his soul to even ask her to give it up to be with him. James damn well tried and had been working for hours to build up the walls around his emotions. Each time he thought he succeeded, a remembered scent, a taste, a smile, and the walls crumbled, and that terrible need for her came rushing back with brutal force.
Pushing out a harsh breath, he vaulted from the bed and strode to the open windows. A storm had unleashed over a couple hours ago, and the winds howled outside, tugging at the wild feelings beating through his heart. James put on his trousers, padded from his room and down the winding stairs, making his way outdoors.
“James?”
He faltered at the soft call of his name. “What is it Felicity?” he asked, without turning around.
“Are you also unable to sleep?”
He glanced over his shoulder, and his sister gasped, her hand fluttering to her throat at whatever she saw in his expression.
“I need…” His throat closed around the rough words. “Outside.”
“The storm is raging, James!”
“It is what I need. Sleep well, Felicity.”
“You are only clad in trousers! Surely you will catch your death should you venture out. Please let us retire to the music room together and perhaps we might play the pianoforte together?”
“Another time.” He walked away, stepping out into the frigid night. James walked from the main house into the deep woodland of his home, then he broke into a run. He ran hard until the breath burned in his lungs and his muscles ached. Almost an hour passed before he skidded to a stop. Rain lashed down from the sky, the icy cold of the night penetrating deep into James’s skin as he stood before the monument built in honor of the late duke, his father.
That sense of loss built into an agony he despised. He felt his resolve, moving inside like a living thing.I am not damned weak. This…this he had already conquered, and he would damn well do it again. Except, as the minutes trickled away and turned into another brutal hour where he stood still, allowing the elements to pummel him, James realized his Wildflower was not someone he could ever forget. James stooped on his haunches, tracing the words cut into the marble stone. Words of love and remembrance, words he’d not gotten to say to his father.
