Page 26 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

G enevieve couldn’t decide if she wanted to hide away in the shadows, slap her husband, or kiss him. But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t do any of them no matter how close or charming or annoying he could be with her.

The blush on her cheeks ignored her.

Feeling the heat crawling up her face, she forced herself to turn away. Every muscle in her body felt tight. Even her stomach was clenched as though she was waiting for something more to happen. As though Julian might do something more.

He wouldn’t, of course. She knew this. The man was a flirt. But he was married now and the one person he had no honest interest in was his wife.

Me. And this was what I wanted. Wasn’t it? A husband who isn’t here and doesn’t care what I do. A husband with full pockets who leaves me in peace.

Which was what she wanted in this moment because the man was devious and charming even while frustrating her and flattering her. It made everything too confusing. Her heart was turned all about, she knew that, and it complicated everything.

She told herself she didn’t care. Rubbing her hands together, she grasped the fan on her wrist and turned back to face him with the hopes of convincing him she’d needed to tidy up a ribbon on her dress.

“I was only…” Genevieve halted when her gaze met Julian’s.

Once more, he was gazing at her oddly with that unsettling expression that made her stomach twist and her heart flip. It was clear he was thinking. The way his gaze shifted about her face even now told her there was much on his mind.

And still he studied her. The music played, the empty glasses in his hands forgotten, and all Julian noticed was her.

His wife, yes, but she had hardly been anything before they met. Not exactly a wallflower but not quite a diamond of the season either. Mostly forgotten unless someone had a need of her, particularly Phoebe or her sisters.

If only he wouldn’t look at me like that. Like this. It does all sorts of odd things to my soul. My heart beats like it will conquer half the world should it only escape my ribs. He must look at all the ladies like this, and so it means nothing.

He was, after all, a rake. The most rakish fellow in all of London, if not England. And now amongst the countryside. While she couldn’t confirm he’d enjoyed any flirtations or liaisons since stepping out into the country, part of her wondered if he still found his chances.

I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s not as though he cares for me.

Even with our plan to deceive everyone about our happy union, he is daring enough to do as he likes when we are not together.

The man gambles with hearts and smiles, discarding people whenever he desires like we are naught but useless cards.

Whatever use he had for her, after all, would soon leave her alone. Again. None of this ever lasted. And because of that, Genevieve told herself she didn’t care.

“Would you like another glass?” he inquired at last, finally filling the silence with something so she could breathe.

“No, thank you. I believe I’ll take a turn about the room,” she added.

Julian nodded. “I can put the glasses away and accompany you.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Julian squinted at her. “Why not?”

“Because I think I’ll go outside instead.

I could use some fresh air. It’s getting stuffy in here.

Besides,” she spoke rapidly to spit the words out, “I think you’ve done well in impressing everyone with awareness of our union since holding me as you did.

Everyone noticed. I don’t think we even have to dance tonight. ”

He gave a slight shake of his head with a befuddled look in his eyes, making him look rather boyish since he still wore half a smile. “Now, darling.”

Sucking in a deep breath, she knew she couldn’t keep standing here. She couldn’t let him call her that endearment. “Fetch me when you’re ready to leave the ball.”

How difficult it was for Genevieve then to wear a smile, brushing his arm with her fan as though it was a kindly parting. She couldn’t have it appear like she was leaving him, after all. It helped that he didn’t budge. All Julian did was blink and watch her as she left.

The back doors weren’t terribly far. She picked up her pace and darted out onto the terrace within a minute.

Finally alone, thank the heavens.

Or mostly alone. Her eyes darted about to the lit lanterns leading to the garden.

A few others had meandered out here or down the steps to enjoy the flowers in the moonlight.

What a beautiful landscape it was here. She couldn’t see where the garden ended even when she went to the railing for a view.

Genevieve stayed put there for some time after.

Her gaze adjusted to the evening lighting. Nodding along to those who passed her by, she managed to appear casual and at home while still alone. The music played behind her for some time. But Genevieve couldn’t bear to be near it, not with her stomach in knots over Julian’s strange behavior.

It’s all acting, that’s all it is.

She had finally calmed down somewhat by the time the musicians stopped so everyone might go in to supper.

Forcing herself to join the mass, she found it to be an open setting in the next large room.

Everyone could take a seat while trays were rolled along for everyone’s access to take as they desired.

As no seats were assigned, she put herself in the corner with a few older attendees who welcomed her kindly and considered themselves very honored to be sitting with a duchess.

“You are too kind,” she murmured. “I only wish for a lovely evening with everyone tonight.”

Mr. and Mrs. Timbry to her left beamed at her. “And how lovely it is! A perfect ball for you to attend,” the wife added cheerfully. “Lady Penbury is the finest hostess in the entire county.”

“Aye, south of London, I’d say,” her husband said.

“How splendid.” She turned and nodded when the nearest servant came their way with a rolling tray. Everyone invited her to pick first, so she took the smallest options available before letting everyone else.

The other lady, the Baroness of Hillend, murmured to her, “I’ve been here for most of my marriage because of our lads. You’ll have to tell us how this fare compares to London, Your Grace.”

“I’m sure it is quite scrumptious and needs no compare,” she offered graciously. The thought of them relying on her opinion for anything left Genevieve filled with unease. She was, after all, only human. What if she didn’t like something they did? Or the other way around?

Fortunately, the couples began to converse over their meal and required little input from her thereafter.

This gave Genevieve some time to study the others who ate or wandered about the room.

She avoided the gazes of those who looked at her with furrowed brows, surely wondering why a duchess would sit here in all of places.

There were so many of them. She felt the room grow warm, and wished she didn’t feel so out of sorts.

It used to be that she could rely on her sisters or Phoebe to distract her. But the only person she had here tonight was Julian.

She discovered him quickly, only two tables down, surrounded by two widows and their hosts.

Her fork was set aside as she watched him talking to the young woman to his right.

From what Genevieve had heard, she had married and was widowed within the span of a year, though the name couldn’t be recalled.

When he smiled and said something, the young woman immediately threw back her head, her curls bouncing, and she laughed. The noise startled the table behind her. She paid them no mind as she waved a hand around.

All the while, Julian was smirking.

An absolute hypocrite.

Tonight Genevieve couldn’t bring herself to eat more than a few bites. The two couples didn’t seem to notice, and instead inquired of Southwick to see if the doors would ever open to visitors to tour the house.

And see how often Julian and I are not together? I cannot imagine having to act for more than just our servants as well as guests at the same time. It’s too much. They could come by at any time!

“Not at this time, I’m afraid,” Genevieve thought quickly to say.

“My husband is very busy at the moment and, as we believe in being present for all guests, we cannot bear to open the doors at this time. But I do hope for next year. And when we take our leave, we’ll surely allow guests their tours of the house. ”

The baroness blinked. “Leave? Goodness me, already?”

She froze. “Oh, I don’t mean… Well, eventually, we shall take our leave.

London is where we maintain our normal residence.

There are no travel plans at this time, but we won’t be here forever.

” Softening her voice to be apologetic, she offered a small smile in recompense.

“I’m only very glad to have this time with all of you. ”

“Certainly,” said the other woman in haste. “As are we. We’ll count our blessings tonight, having you at our table. What a pleasure it has been, Your Grace.”

Nodding, she smiled in return. “Thank you. All of you have been so very gracious tonight. I hope to see you again outside of this lovely affair.”

As Genevieve took her leave, she heard one of the men murmur, “What a duchess! Good manners on her.”

Others returned to the ballroom or the cards room or elsewhere. Genevieve moved quietly from room to room, wishing she didn’t feel so overwhelmed about tonight. The garden affair might have had more space but it would have carried nearly the same number of guests.

Balls are always so tense as it is. What am I but a doll on display? I was the perfect doll for my parents when they were new parents, then I was the doll for my mother to trot around all of London when I came out, and now I am the doll for my husband. Wherever he might be.

She decidedly avoided him and it appeared he did the same, for the ballroom was nearly winding down by the time a servant found her exiting the lady’s waiting room.

“His Grace awaits you in the Great Hall,” she murmured with a curtsey.

“Thank you,” Genevieve said and hastily made her way out. She managed to locate Lady Penbury for a quick farewell before making her way to the hall where she located her husband.

He nodded. “Ready to return home, my sweet?”

With a glance at the nearby servants, Genevieve nodded. “Indeed, my dear.”

The endearment caught his attention. He jerked his gaze up to meet hers just as she turned away. But somehow, they still found one another so she could take his arm on the way down to their waiting carriage.

Leaving behind the music and light of the ball, Genevieve slumped once settled in the carriage.

The evening felt like a strange illusion. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin and wished she could find something to say to her husband. It felt like they needed to sort out an issue. But she didn’t have the words, and it seemed neither did he. The carriage ride was silent all the way home.

Am I foolish to think he would say anything?

She pursed her lips as he helped her out of the carriage, his grip a little too tight. But he let go promptly once she was on her feet.

Genevieve bristled. The man had the gall to act like nothing had happened. Thinking back to her conversation with Mr. Kantbury and then the way she had watched him flirting with another young woman made him a complete scoundrel in more ways than one.

Say something!

As much as she wanted to rage at him, she forced a smile on her lips. They walked into their house. Servants helped them remove their traveling layers. Thinking perhaps she find a way to spark conversation, Genevieve raised her hopes up.

We need to talk, Julian. Whatever is between us, we need to make sense of this.

Of us. Do you care? Do you care in the way that I think you care, the way that I’m terrified to consider?

Or do you not care at all? Am I doll you will set in the closet when you are done with me?

Why do you sometimes look at me like that?

“Good evening everyone,” he said and then took off down the hall without another word.

Her heart dropped.

“Pardon me,” Genevieve murmured to the servants, then hastily followed after him. Her crinkled layers of skirts made it difficult. She found herself falling behind. But once the servants were out of hearing, she called to him. “Julian, wait!”

Except he didn’t, so soon she was alone. He must not have heard her. She found herself standing alone watching the flicker of candlelight fading.

Not a glance, not so much as a proper word.

Too embarrassed to have the servants in the front hall seeing her return alone, Genevieve quietly took a long route back to her bed chamber. It didn’t take long for her to undress, bathe, and prepare for bed.

Only she was hungry.

After letting Elodie retire for the evening, Genevieve made her way down in the dark to the kitchens.

She told herself not to be disappointed that no one joined her this time.

After finding a few rolls left in a convenient spot––someone down here was beginning to take note that someone needed food in the middle of the night––she turned back toward her rooms.

But Genevieve took the long way.

This path led her past the study door where Julian must have disappeared into. She thought she could see some soft light escaping through the cracks.

He had to be in there, she told herself. Pressing herself against the door, she tried to see through the gaps or the lock but found nothing.

No noise, either.

“Julian?” She dared to whisper. “Please talk to me.”

Silence greeted her until she felt like an intruder. She couldn’t have felt more foolish. Sighing quietly, she pulled away from the door to continue making her way back to her room.

He has shut me out in more ways than one, I’m afraid. Is it because of what I said? Or because of what he said? Every time he teases me, I cannot help but be confused. And the possessive way in which he held me, I… it couldn’t have meant a thing.

Reaching her bed chamber, Genevieve closed the door and then turned to the partially open curtain. Before she closed it, she studied the night sky.

“Why am I fighting this?” she asked herself. “This is what I want. Distance. I don’t want him toying with me. It’s better this way.”

Except somehow his silence felt like a punishment. Climbing into bed, Genevieve punched and squished her pillows into submission. She sighed heavily once she was settled, and wondered if she was more frustrated with Julian or with herself.