Page 17 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

Then came the voice of another woman, older as well. “A beautiful couple. Their children will be beautiful. I wonder what the duchess is all about. She must be clever; we might all forget what Southwick was like because of his pretty looks, but I remember. He never stayed for any woman before.”

He moved a little closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. And then Genevieve did the same.

“Oh, I’m telling you, it’s different, Jane, he’s different.

Did you see the way he looked at her?” Julian tried to recognize the chattering voice as he looked up at Genevieve, finding her already gazing at him.

He wished he knew what she was thinking.

He wondered if it affected her that the woman was right.

No one could make him stay. “I can hardly fathom it. I’ll be blushing all day myself.

They’ll have a young heir by Michaelmas, I tell you. ”

“Tsk, Mary, do be sensible.”

“I am! I think I’m the most sensible of the lot. Come, let’s hear from Wilma, she’ll tell you I’m right. She saw them as well. I cannot believe you looked away from one second.”

The footsteps started up again, their voices growing distant. Jane said something about having manners before they were too far to hear well any longer.

Alone together again, Julian studied Genevieve who was gazing back at him.

They were perfect strangers bound together for the rest of their lives, though he’d reassured her he would be gone the moment the family name was secure.

He supposed it was somewhat ironic: they would secure the name but never pass it on to their own children.

He blinked and could picture them before he meant to process the idea, seeing long-legged toddlers with bright eyes reaching out to him. Curly-haired babies hugging Genevieve’s neck close and smiling up at her. What sort of mother would she be?

I never asked if she wished for children.

Feeling a lump in his throat, Julian felt a wave of foreign emotion tugging at him from all sides. His practiced smile took a little more work. There was something raw beneath all of this, a part of him he had buried a long time ago.

“Should we go?” Genevieve whispered, her voice tickling his ear.

He jerked back and then hastily forced a laugh. “I suppose we should, my dear. We need to show the other half of the guests just how darling you are.”

When he reached out for her, she stepped back to avoid him. But the sundial was there. Genevieve’s breath caught as she hastily moved forward again, this time right into him. Their limbs tangled with one another even as she let out a breathless laugh with a whispered apology.

“It’s all right.” He glanced at his chest where her hand suddenly resided. She jerked, but then he covered his hand with hers to hold it there for a moment. Words struggled to make sense in his head and on his tongue. “We are married, after all.”

Genevieve’s cheeks were covered in a bright blush as she sent him a stern look before yanking herself free on the next attempt. “We want to show them we are in love. Not that we are indecent.”

“Would that be so awful?” He asked, a halfhearted tease.

She caught a curl coming loose from her hair and hastily began to mend it even as she started back through the maze.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she murmured. Amusement and softness had dissipated in the air.

He sucked in a jagged breath as he followed her.

“Even being inappropriate, being indecent, can make people question us. Just because you could get away with it as a bachelor doesn’t mean it’s the same when you are wed. ”

“Even husbands misbehave.”

The next look was sharper than anything he knew. “A duke should not publicly be such a cad. If I were you, I would want to be the most proper mannered duke possible so there are no doubts. Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, seeing as I am the duke… Hold on. Genevieve, really, you’re going to tear out your hair,” he added reasonably as he brought her to a stop with a light hand on her shoulder.

She’d torn out three pearls and half of it was coming undone.

Unwilling to see it all fall apart, he took the pearl pins from her hands and began to tug her hair back into place.

“You need not worry. I’m only teasing you.

” He reassured her as well as himself. “I will be proper, rest assured. Everyone should be able to see my head above here, as well as part of yours. They can’t assume anything wayward. ”

She shifted for a minute before sighing. “Very well. You had hope that is what they all say. If anyone asks or hints, you tell them I adore mazes and wanted to see what was in the center.”

“It’s always a sundial,” he pointed out to her.

“It is not.” She paused. “Well, not always. There could be an exception. Sometimes there is nothing.” He hummed a response, tucking a pin in his mouth to manage the last unruly curl. “You don’t have sisters, do you?”

Waiting until he had fixed the pin, Julian replied. “I don’t have any siblings. I’ve tended to my younger cousins in the past, though. Why?”

Genevieve brought a careful hand up to pat her hair, unable to see but wishing to know he hadn’t made a nest in there. It took her a minute to decide for herself. She forced a smile and then dropped her hand.

“It’s nothing. I was only wondering. Shall we?” She motioned toward the exit.

Julian nodded and then offered his arm to her. They had a performance to give to everyone that afternoon. Trying to focus on that helped him to ignore the sound of her low laughter and how it curled into his heartbeat. It helped him forget the way her hand fit neatly into his, gloved or not.

None of that mattered, he reminded himself, because if it did, it would mean something. And moments and people that meant something would lead toward the notion of love.

Having lived much in his thirty-one years, Julian knew better than to consider love. He had seen it sour in his parents. The way it ruined relationships, serious or not. It was clear how adoration turned to resentment, how affection twisted to obligation, and how quickly devotion could turn to rot.

It's not love. And it will never be love.