Page 24 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

“Are… ramps often mistaken for anything poisonous?” Thalia asked softly.

Gabriel allowed the smallest hint of a smile—a genuine one—to slip across his lips. He gave her hand a soft squeeze before helping her to her feet, leading towards an old footpath to head deeper into the brush, as the old maid followed them silently a few steps behind.

Making sure they were not overheard, he leaned in and whispered in Thalia’s ear, “There’s only one way to find out, my Lady. Are you willing to take the risk?”

* * *

This. This had been her absolute worst idea, without any doubt in her mind. Thalia knew for certain she was in no danger; the duke had proved himself a gentleman time and time again, disregarding his outwardly frigid demeanor.

And she was certain, as they continued down the footpath, that their distance from the park grounds wouldn’t suddenly cause him to discard the wool from his wolfish exterior. Regardless what others might have spoken about him, Thalia knew in her heart that she was perfectly safe.

But gracious, it was so horrifically cold between the pair of them. The duke didn’t seem the type to willingly engage in small talk, and Thalia couldn’t think of any topic that didn’t involve his family. His reaction after Charlotte mentioned their father still weighed heavily on her mind, and their brief discussion of his sister’s teenage years conjured images of dramatic fights and tearful apologies.

All were things she so desperately wanted more information about, but simply could not inquire further. Whatever relationship she had managed to build with the duke was fragile at best, and she did not wish to destroy it all with ill-timed curiosity.

Instead, Thalia did her best to simply enjoy what nature had to offer. In truth, she found herself utterly captivated at how differently the woods presented themselves.

She had long-since grown used to neatly-trimmed bushes and rows of evenly-spaced flowers, whose color palette had been carefully considered by the landscapers well-before the seeds had been planted. Out here, everything seemed to breathe deeply, free of societal constraints that strove for an impossible perfection. Flora grasped in every which direction, while the fauna called out loudly, without rhyme or reason.

“Organized chaos,” the duke suddenly stated.

Thalia blinked, glancing upward as their gazes met. She managed to hold it this time, face turning warm beneath a stray ray of sunlight through the trees.

“There’s still an order out here, even among what we consider untamed wilderness.” The duke gently led Thalia forward, the pair standing just ahead of the stream. Dark stones rippled beneath its crystal clear surface, while dozens of minnows shot past, hiding beneath the tangled roots and large rocks.

“Your Grace,” the older maid piped up from behind them. “I hardly think the lady is prepared to walk off the path.”

“I’ll ensure she’s safe,” the duke promised. “And you’ll still be within earshot if we need assistance.”

Thalia watched as the older maid’s brow furrowed; she clearly didn’t look convinced.

“You’ve known me since I was young,” the duke began.

“And as such, my concern is well-founded,” the older maid finished.

He chuckled—had Thalia ever heard him properly chuckle like that?—and offered a wave of his hand. “I promise to return her in one piece.”

Thalia’s grip tightened around his arm, and she allowed herself to be led farther off the path. The pair followed the small stream until it led into a massive pond, filled to the brim with the sound of croaking frogs and humming insects. Thalia watched as a blue-tinged stork waded the deeper parts, eyeing the waters before piercing the surface, a frog grasped in its beak. She gasped, grasp tightening further around the duke; once more, she heard him chuckle.

“The water churns so the aquatic life can flourish,” he said. “Which draws the birds to eat what isn’t fast enough to flee. A perfect thread to follow, one that easily snaps if even one part is out of balance.”

“Organized chaos,” Thalia repeated.

The duke nodded, and the pair continued well past the pond. Tree limbs began to bend and twist outward, the scruff of bushes and grass dispersing as the way opened up more and more. Thalia blinked furiously as they reached the mouth of the forest, not used to the sudden shift in sunlight.

Then, as she lowered her hands, she inhaled sharply at the sight, immediately overtaken by the rich, floral scent of hundreds—maybe thousands—of wildflowers blooming in a rolling, open field. Tulips, daffodils, bluebells; there was such a wide assortment that Thalia couldn’t rightly keep track of it all, appearing as a myriad of colors amongst freshly-sprung prairie grass.

She felt the duke’s hand squeeze hers, and she looked to him once more, surprised to find a slight, if not clearly satisfied smile, on his face. “I thought you might like it. Exactly the place a little rabbit might call home.”

“And the place a mighty wolf might hunt?” Thalia was delighted to see his smile persist, allowing him to pull her down the incline and into the flowers proper. She couldn’t resist picking a few along the way, and when the duke finally released her hand, she had a colorful bouquet in the making.

“Such lovely flowers, Little Red,” the duke teased. “Awfully dangerous, though, letting your guard down out here in the open.”

Thalia raised her brow, presenting the bouquet with an elaborate flourish. “I hardly have anything to fear out here.”

“Is that so?”

Thalia’s face flushed as Mr. Harding inched closer, a smirk drawn across his face in playful fashion. “The wolf of fairytales is far more interested in the grandmother, if you recall. Little Red is quite safe until then.”

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