Page 21 of The Wolf Duke's Wife
“Not at all. Lady Gillray maintains an excellent garden. I…it is not permitted.”
She blushed furiously, burying her face in a teacup.
“You make it sound as though you were a prisoner,” Tristan forced a laugh to show that his words were spoken in jest.
“I am not a prisoner,” Christine snapped.
She looked away, taking a deep breath. Tristan studied her profile, unable to stop himself. The soft paleness of her neck. The strong shape of her face. Strong but feminine and so vulnerable.
“Perhaps I shall persuade Blanche to accompany me,” she said, at last, turning back to him.
Opportunity opened like a door. “If you wish, I would be glad to escort you.”
A flicker in her eyes. Victory? Amusement? “I do not think it wise. Alone.”
“I would not suggest it alone,” he said smoothly, masking his irritation. “With your friend, of course. I would not dream of offering to walk with you unchaperoned.”
“That would set tongues wagging. I fear that they wag for me too much already,” Christine said.
The words slid between them like a blade.
Tristan’s mouth hardened. “The thing I detest most in society,” he said slowly, “is this endless fencing of words. No one speaks plainly, all hiding behind innuendo. It is…tedious. You refer to your brother when you talk of wagging tongues.”
“I do. It is no secret.”
“It is not. All know yet none speak of it aloud. They whisper behind your back, particularly. I recognize the signs. They whisper of me, too.”
“And what have you done to justify such attention?” Christine asked.
“I have not stolen from anyone. Or bankrupted anyone,” Tristan said, coolly.
“Ah, so you wished to join me in order to attack me through my brother?”
“Not at all. But I do wish to find him.”
“I think I have said that I do not know where he is.”
“Indeed.”
“I am not in the habit of telling lies,” Christine said, hotly.
“I did not suggest it.”
“Then you should consider the views you have expressed on speaking plainly. For you do not seem to be following your own desires on that subject.”
“I can assure you that I will not conceal my intentions from you. I wish to help you in return for your help in finding your brother. I am not afraid to speak my mind and not to beat around the bush. I cannot say the same for most here.”
Christine’s color flared. “Not all have your freedom, my lord. A servant, for example, cannot speak his mind to a master. Nor can a young woman go to a guardian she fears.”
He gave a dismissive shrug. “Fear is the choice of the weak.”
Her eyes flashed. “Easily said by a duke. Tell me, have you ever needed to fear the consequence of speaking your mind?”
“I have suffered them, my lady, often enough.”
The air between them was taut as wire, the very table trembling beneath their duel of words. Tristan leaned back, fighting the unfamiliar sensation of being outmatched, or rather, of being matched at all. She was playing his game, and worse, she was winning. Before he could retort, a warm, commanding voice cut across them.
“My dears!” The dowager duchess, resplendent in lavender silk, swept to their table, “How delightful to see two of my mosteligible guests finding each other so early. I take it as a very good omen.”
