“I am certain everyone evolves the older they get. I am not a raving lunatic, and I believe that is easily proven. Is it not?”
The words were almost a hiss and wariness leaped into Southby’s eyes. The unseen tension in the room tightened and prickled over James’s skin. Southby was not unaffected because the pencil was gripped so tightly, it was a wonder it did not snap.
“It is true that our experiences shape us. I believe that is what the duchess fears. You were missing for over ten years.”
“I am here now. Nothing else should matter.”
Empathy gleamed from piercing green eyes and Southby leaned forward in the chair. “You were alone for overtenyears, Your Grace. That knowledge eats at the duchess, every day, in slow tormenting increments. Though she should now feel whole that you are alive, the guilt that she somehow failed you will not be conquered unless she believes you are now happy and well.”
Pleasure ghosted along James’s cheekbones as though this rarity before him had brushed fingertips along his face in a reassuring caress. The power of that inherent stare beguiled him, and instantly he did not trust the creature before him, for he had never before encountered the like.
“She presumes I was alone,” James said, looking away into the forest for a brief moment.
“Were you not alone, Your Grace?”
Painfully so. Yet James would never admit that. Instead, he murmured, “I had the ice-capped mountains and the trees. At other times I had wolves and bears. I had nature and the call of the wild. Those were enough.”
…
The duke had indeed existed alone for ten long years. That shattering knowledge brought a harsh ache to the back of Jules’s throat and calmed the odd sense of fright that had filled her at his intensity. There were so many times she had felt an aloneness that ravaged her, for she truly felt like she did not belong. Despite being surrounded by friends and family, Jules had not been able to confide her uncertainty and hopes to anyone. As she grew older she had kept a careful distance from her sister and acquaintances lest they discovered the truth. Eschewing deep bonds and friendship had bred a sense of aloneness that had eaten at her, and more than one night she had buried her face in her pillows and wept.
How had it been for the duke? Everyone needed a measure of contact, and he had been deprived of it for years. How had he endured without the comfort of a hug or a lover’s embrace? To touch others and be touched was an imperative biological need and necessity. It was a language without words that he might hunger for without knowing it, for touch was far more powerful and stronger than verbal or emotional contact. There had been no gentle touch, a kiss against the brow…a lover’s touch, the reassuring slap of a friend across his shoulders. The latter years of his life had become directed by a survival instinct. A part of her ached for him and another part found him endlessly fascinating.
“You stare at me as if I am a creature like none you’ve ever seen.”
She closed the notebook and rested it on the small table beside his chess set. “You are no creature, but a nobleman.”
The duke’s gaze flicked over her with some interest. “I am heartened that you know it. Tell it to the queen and the duchess so we can be done with this nonsense of dissecting my every word and action,” he said with icy civility.
“I admit you are not like any gentleman I have ever met,” she said with a careful tilt of her head, unable to understand why her heart pounded so. With each word exchanged, the tension did not lessen, but tightened until she could feel it crackling over her skin.
Jules shifted and the way his eyes tracked that infinitesimal move reminded her of a predator.Who are you, Your Grace?
“Society can be outrageous at times, and you are the current topic of fascination. There are many newssheets’ speculations about how you’ve lived for the past decade. Many expect that you have lost all the grace and accomplishments you learned as the heir to a dukedom. They are looking for abeastto present to the world. I cannot simplytellthem that you are no feral animal, Your Grace. My father and I are here to ensure that what theyseeis the gentleman.”
The duke tilted his head back, returning her regard with one of amused cynicism. “Is that so?”
That dark, mocking drawl rippled over her skin, and jutted her chin and held his gaze. “If you will allow it, yes, Your Grace.”
A considering look touched in his eyes and he held her regard for several moments. “I will speak only with you, Southby. That I will allow.”
Her heart jolted. “Your Grace! My father—”
“Only you.”
She shook her head sharply. “Why?”
“You have something to hide, Southby. Hence you will tread with utmost caution when you peer beyond the veil into my life and in what you share with others. Won’t you?”
It felt like a threat. Or perhaps he believed they had common ground. Did the duke feel as if he had to hide his true self? “I shall discuss it with my father. The decision lies with him.”
“You will both leave if he does not agree.”
She rose and stepped toward him. “I am not at all certain the duchess will agree. I do not have the experience or knowledge of my father, Your Grace.”
“My mother is well meaning, however, this decision lies with me.”
Jules canted her head and stared at him. “I sense your discontent.”
