Page 10 of The Wolf and the Wildflower
His family was desperate for him to be normal. To perhaps revert to the youth he had been before that fateful adventurous trek through the Canadian wilds with his friend, who had returned to his family safely. James did not remember that free-spirited boy, in truth he hardly recalled himself as a young gentleman on the cusp of discovering himself.
“We must present a united front to the world,” his mother continued earnestly. “When you visit the court, the queen must not be in doubt that you are the duke. Cousin Weatherby might be silly enough to cause a scandal of the decade by challenging your right to your inheritance by casting doubt on your capacity and identity. Society might look down upon our family if they believe it to be so. Your dukedom is blessedly a wealthy one, but we are not infallible. Wecanbe ruined, and the duke behind Wulverton must be impeccable.”
She paused to take several sips from the flute of champagne she held in a too tight clutch. “It might not seem like it now…but the best thing to do is to secure yourself a wife. One of estimable lineage, reputation, and connections. You cannot…I am not sure any young lady would be amenable to your suit should you approach her now. So, we must get ready.”
Her voice trembled and the tears she’d tried to suppress brimmed over. An embarrassed flush reddened her cheeks, and she turned away from him to brush the offensive tears away with a delicate flick of a slim finger. Memories he had long suppressed in his loneliness rose in the forefront of his thoughts—of the duchess kissing his cheek and leaving rouge behind. He a boy of about six years, laughing and smearing her perfume on his skin, and her snuggling her nose into his neck.
“You spend a lot of time in the woods…that must stop—”
“No,” he clipped.
She snapped her spine straight. “My son, you cannot act in a manner contrary to your position—”
He shifted, slashing his gaze down to her. “No.”
She flinched and subtly moved back from him. An answer welled inside of James, but to voice the peace he found in the emptiness of the woods and nature eluded him. He craved space, and since his return to his family, every day he had been bombarded. The forest and whatever time he spent there was not negotiable. His mother fell silent, her gloved fingers tightening on the railing to the point they must pain her.
“What do I need to be ready?” This he could try to give to her.
She whirled to face him, her mouth trembling with repressed emotions. It was clear she had not anticipated his response. James knew he was the duke. Duty and honor had been stamped in his blood and bones at an early age, andnothing…not even the biting cold of the Northern Sound, the echoing deep of loneliness could erase that. His mother needed him to reclaim the part of him that she felt lost. The way he wanted to do it…to simply be alone…to be given space to acclimate to his new surroundings did not seem acceptable to his family.
“What do I need to do, Mother?” he repeated, holding her stare with his.
“A doctor…see a doctor of the mind,” she said with a slight, but unmissably combative lift of her chin.
He schooled his expression.
“A doctor of the mind?”
The duchess searched his face almost frantically. “Yes.”
“Savage. Possibly insane. He is different. Wild and unrefined. What he must have done to survive…”
Those words from his family, each one had stabbed deeper and deeper, even though he did not understand why. They should be irrelevant. Life had shown itself to be harsh and uncompromising. Mere words should not be able to rattle his mettle. “Will you be reassured for me to speak with this doctor?”
“Yes,” she said, her hands fluttering to her chest to press over her heart. “I would, James. Very much. He might help you…prepare for the world.”
He tried to imagine this doctor, a portly fellow perhaps, poking and prodding at his intimate thoughts, trying to decide if he was insane or well enough of the mind to be the duke. James thought it laughable…yet he acknowledged there was an echoing hollowness inside that not even the woman before him and the bustling family behind him seemed to be able to fill.
Was it insanity that resided in this distance that he endured?
The emptiness had formed six hundred and ninety-five days after he had been lost. It was in that hollowness, away from emotions, he had maintained his sanity. It was in that emptiness he had found safety. He would never willingly leave that space, that much he knew about himself. What was there to really talk about with a doctor? “What else would you need of me?”
She folded her arms demurely at her waist. “Dancing tutors.”
He slightly jolted. “Dancing?”
His mother smiled, as if finding humor in his start of surprise. “Yes…it is most necessary. I am to hold a ball in a few weeks. It is a most sought after event and youmustbe in attendance, James. Even Gladstone, the Prime Minister will attend, and his acknowledgement of you…society’s acknowledgement of you will set the tone and expectation of everyone going forward.”
It was nonsensical at most, certainly not a necessity. “When is this ball?”
She lifted her chin. “A little over three weeks.”
Somehow those words scythed unknown feelings deep inside his gut. “Change the date,” he said flatly.
“It is not done, not after invitations have been sent. I…our family has held one of the first balls of the season for years. All those plans were put in place before…before you came home, but now that you are here youmustattend. And you must…dance and interact and show the world who you are. The duke.”
How much she needed from James slapped him like a brutal fist. He did not like it and he bit back the snarl rising up to swallow him down. “I will…try.”
