Page 25 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke
“Ah, but you’re forgetting something rather important.” Gently, the duke lifted the bouquet from her hands, gasping it with his own as he pulled close to her ear. Then, in a delicate whisper that ran across her skin, he said; “I’m no imaginary wolf, and my tastes are far more refined.”
Nervous laughter quickly fluttered from Thalia’s throat as she dropped to the ground, feigning interest in a clump of grass. “S-So the ramps! Um—they’re here somewhere, yes?”
Mr. Harding nodded, getting down on one knee as he pushed some of the taller grass aside. If he was disappointed in her unwillingness to continue their game, he hardly showed it on his face. “It’s easy to miss if you only look for it.”
“I’m… not entirely sure what other way there is to find something other than looking,” Thalia quipped. She wasn’t entirely sure if she’d taken the banter too far, as the duke’s shoulders seemed to stiffen slightly. Best not to press her luck. “How does one find ramps, if not by sight?” she asked.
The duke held out his hand. Thalia took it without hesitation, allowing herself to be brought down to a kneel beside him. She could feel the damp of the dirt begin to stain her dress, but it was likely to be an improvement. At least she’d have a reason to throw it out. A happy occasion indeed.
“You’ve smelled raw onion before, yes?”
Thalia nodded, leaning closer to the ground as to copy the duke exactly.
“Imagine that smell, but far more pungent.” The duke inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. “Even among these flowers, you’ll be hard pressed to miss it.”
Thalia did so, breathing deeply and trying to filter out the smells that followed. It was all so very floral, so very fresh—until suddenly, it wasn’t. She wrinkled her nose slightly, turning her head to follow the scent.
“Oh! Is this it, over here?” Her gloved hand reached to grasp at stalks of bright green, only to find the duke’s hand instead. Immediately, a hot flash ran across her skin, and she turned to face him for what felt like the dozenth time that day.
And then, quite suddenly, she found his face drawing closer to hers. Andthen, quite suddenly… she wanted nothing more than to pull forward into a kiss.
“You have a stray petal in your hair, Miss Sutton.”
Thalia blinked, acutely aware of the duke actively pulling away the offending petal pinched between his fingers. She was certain it was the reddest she’d ever been in her life, and she hastily looked down at the ground, still gripping the stalks of grass in between her hands.
“Master Harding? Miss Sutton?” The maid’s voice cut through the air as Thalia exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. “Are you two quite alright?”
“Yes; we’ll be heading your way shortly.” Mr. Harding rose to his feet, offering a hand to Thalia as she weakly took it. “And, by the way,” His hand found hers, still gripping the grass as he helped pull the plant free. “These are indeed ramps. Excellent catch.”
“Y-Yes,” Thalia replied breathlessly. Excellent, indeed.
CHAPTER12
He’d never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Thalia Sutton in that moment. Gracious, but this woman; someone who was both delicate and robust, demure in her speech yet so quick with a witty retort.
His appetite was ravenous, demanding to devour her here, in this field, with the wildflowers and the bright, springtime sky as their only witnesses. And he was certain she had felt the same, if only for a moment. But he had quickly snuffed whatever flame had begun to build between them, and the pair walked back to the park grounds without another word spoken.
Thalia was quick to rejoin Charlotte and the other ladies, and he could hear her excitedly share news of the flower field. His sister, expectedly, took the bait and chatted about how romantic a spot that was, how special and secret it was; how clearly, her brother truly cared for Thalia in every conceivable way. Every way, of course, aside from reciprocating any physical affection she tried to give him.
Grow up stronger than me, Gabriel.
He shook his head, rubbing his temple as his father’s words echoed back like a cold specter.
Protect yourself, your sister—don’t be so easily swayed by emotion.
“Gabriel, are you alright?”
He blinked, Christian suddenly by his side and wearing a slight look of concern. Gabriel sighed, lowering his hand to fish out the old pocket watch from his vest—people were sneaking up on him far more frequently than he’d like, as of late.
“Fine, Christian. Just lost in thought.” He concentrated on the sound of ticking machinery, counting the seconds between Thalia’s laughter.
Sometimes, it took ten before she let out a chuckle. Sometimes it was as short as three. But every time, it rang in his chest and pulled at his heart, urging him to join the small party. To stand beside her, settle a hand against her hip. To claim her as his own; his little rabbit, with a kick in her step and a bite to her teeth.
Don’t be so easily swayed by emotion.
“Thinking about all the ways you’ll end Lord Tilbury’s existence?”
Gabriel scowled, closing the watch with a loud snap before glancing Christian’s way.
