Page 30 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

“It depends on what you mean about misbehaving.”

He watched as she took a small step back. Collecting the rosebud at their feet, Julian closed the distance between them. She paused as he reached for her hair. As he put the rosebud behind her ear, she could smell him and his cologne. The scent nearly made her knees weak.

Pulling herself together, Genevieve studied Julian’s face. “You’ll be polite to everyone?”

“So polite they will not know what to do with me,” he reassured her.

“And how shall you behave with me?”

“In a way to prove to the world I married the right woman. The only woman. I’ll misbehave just so the world understands that the best thing I did with my life was marry you and every other minute is spent proving I deserve only a minute of your time.”

The short speech caught Genevieve by surprise. It hardly helped how he stared into her eyes like he meant every word.

A second passed and she could have believed it. She could have responded too easily. The man was a brilliant liar. Her heart began to sink. Reminding herself that this was his charm, that they were here to trick everyone about, Genevieve could only smile over his foolish nature.

“Very well.” She forced herself to take another step back, and prepared to keep moving even if she fell into a bush so he couldn’t get any closer. Blaming the cologne on her dizziness, she took a deep breath. “Two hours, then.”

Genevieve didn’t know what else she could do. Feeling light-headed over that intense gaze of his, she walked back to the estate on her own. Off to her bed chamber she went in order to prepare for the evening’s affair.

It wasn’t long before she was letting Julian take her hand to assist her out of the carriage.

The duke huffed in her ear once she was on the ground. “Is the entire county here this evening?”

“Most likely,” she responded automatically.

“Did you not read the invitation or listen to Lady Penbury? Mr. Wilson is an absurdly wealthy American. A single, elderly fellow, who believes greatly in charity. He lost his wife last year, unfortunately, and now he’s giving away his money in waves as she apparently asked of him.

He hosts these affairs with society matrons regularly to invite others to share in his giving. ”

Julian nodded. He clasped his hand over hers that was already seated neatly on his arm, an intimate and warming gesture. Trying not to think about the blush creeping up her cheeks, she listened as he asked, “Did you bring your pin money?”

“And yours.”

A surprised laugh escaped him. She could see it in his eyes. They had reached the grand entry with at least twenty people glancing their way. It was why they were here in the first place, Genevieve told herself. The performance.

Turning to face him completely, she smiled as sweetly as possible. “You wouldn’t say no to your perfect little wife, would you?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He swept a gentle finger across her chin, a touch so light and feathery that it caught her breath.

Making their way through the receiving line with their host and the five women, including Lady Penbury, as hostesses for the evening was more difficult than she could have predicted.

Her heartbeat was still pounding hard against her ribs.

The way she and Julian clung to one another was on the edge of propriety and it was as lovely and painful as she might have expected.

Everyone gathered in a grand drawing room where seats were set up in a strange mix. With so few of the people seated at the moment, Julian suggested they mingle.

“We should start with your closest neighbors. Perhaps we can invite them to tea within the next week so they can see us in our own home together,” she said as they slowly walked around the room.

Julian paused. He turned to her with a thoughtful expression.

When he said nothing, she hesitated. Genevieve shifted and started to pull away. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Only you are quite remarkable,” he answered slowly. He paused to tug her closest curl away from her cheek almost like he cared to see her face. The man studied her features long enough to make her wonder if he liked what he saw. “You could be on the stage.”

The latter comment quickly deflated any soft thoughts of hers. She started to frown but caught herself in time. “You’re too sweet.”

Julian smirked. “I am, aren’t I?” He leaned in close enough that she felt his breath warming her cheek. “They’re looking. You’re a wonder at this, truly.”

His compliment struck her like a painful set of claws sinking into her chest. Somehow, Genevieve smiled through it.

We’re only acting. He’s only acting. All I have to do is act. None of this matters. The looks he gives me, none of them mean a thing to him. But how do I tell this to my heart?

The two of them made their way around the room, talking and laughing and posing and exchanging invitations. Her cheeks ached from smiling. But she couldn’t stop. Julian kept watching her. Everyone was watching her, and she didn’t know what to do besides smile.

“Thank you all for attending tonight’s soiree,” Mr. Wilson when everyone finally began to take their seats.

To her misfortune, Julian sat her towards the front and off to the side where everyone could watch them. He scooted close enough that their arms and legs brushed against one another while their host spoke and the five hostesses prepared the makeshift theater space.

Several performers played through the evening. There was poetry, songs, and acting. Not all of it was good, but it was enjoyable for the sparse moments where she could focus.

Baskets were sent around for people to put in their funds. Genevieve brought out her dress, and Julian only chuckled when he saw the amount she had supplied with her.

“That must have been every pound in the house,” he whispered in her ear.

She tried to breathe. It took a minute to find her voice. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. It’s to help with the motherless children across England, however, so I couldn’t think of a better place for it to go.”

The man was so close to her. Their bodies weren’t touching, and yet she could feel his warmth.

Could she feel his heartbeat or had she gone mad?

His hand brushed against her arm from elbow to fingertips.

For a moment, she dared to wish they weren’t wearing gloves so she could feel his skin against hers.

There was such tension in the moment she could only look at Julian. As he met her gaze, pulling back just enough to look back at her, she could have sworn he glanced at her lips. She wondered if he felt this as well.

And what would he do if he did feel this?

“Well said,” he murmured.

They slowly turned back to the rest of the room.

As the performances came to an end, there was a small auction set up as well of local goods made from the village just for the evening.

Julian entered a playful battle to win Genevieve a pair of new kid gloves lined with ermine.

The room cheered when he won and bowed before Genevieve to bestow the gift on her.

There was little time for private conversation between them. When they had a moment, he surprised her by asking, “You wish to protect the dignity of my family's name so it reflects well on your family, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, because of my sisters.”

“All but the youngest are out.” She nodded, surprised he knew this fact. “And the next, Marianne, is likely to be engaged before the year is out.”

Warmth filled her cheeks as she remembered her sister’s cheer. “Married, too.”

“Perhaps we should have brought them with us? The household says you don’t visit as often as I might have expected,” he added with a slight smile.

He was trying to be kind, she realized. Generous. Her heart pattered over the tenderness even as she forced a smile that felt much too brittle for her to breathe.

“I would love for them to visit, but perhaps another time. My mother prefers them close to her in London.”

“But not you?”

She couldn’t keep the smile up any longer and looked away as she confessed, “I was never one of her favorites. I was only ever good enough for her to have married off for the younger girls. It must have been difficult, raising four daughters in a world like this one.”

Shaking his head slowly, Julian had leaned in close so she could smell his cologne. Inhaling it gave her a heady feeling. “You deserved better, Genevieve.”

“I know. Thank you. Having my own home has taught me much,” she admitted. “I’ve realized I do deserve better. And I enjoy being a duchess.”

For some reason, that had made him smile. He took her hand in his, brushing his lips across her knuckles in such a romantic gesture she didn’t think she would ever stop blushing. When he straightened up, he changed the subject and they carried on in lighter spirits.

A lovely evening it had become, one she had not expected. Julian doted on her with drinks and sweets. He was always at her side, complimenting her and boasting about her to everyone they talked to tonight.

It feels like a true marriage. An honest union. Oh, to be cared for by Julian is a sweeter dream than I could have imagined.

“What a sweet sorrow it is to part this evening,” he sighed to their hostesses in the grand entry late that night. He bowed over each of the hands. “Fortunately, I believe we will have the honor of seeing you all again.”

“It was a such a lovely soiree,” Genevieve promised them. “Thank you for the invitation. We could not have been more impressed.”

Lady Penbury beamed. “You are too honorable. It was such a treat to host our duke and duchess. And your generosity was such a treat. We’ll do much for the orphans in the homes, so much good.”

Nodding along, Mr. Wilson murmured a farewell alongside them as they took their leave. Everyone waved even while Julian helped her into the carriage as they were one of the last to go.

“Thank you. Good night!” Genevieve called before the door closed.

Every part of her body ached from putting on a performance. Especially her cheeks from smiling so brightly. And yet the evening had been a success, she noted, and she felt warm all over with pleasure.

“Tonight was everything it could have been,” she said as the carriage started rolling. Julian was still situating himself on his bench. “Everyone was watching us and whispering. The performances were quite enjoyable, don’t you think? And I…”

She trailed off as Julian grunted, setting his hat over his head.

Thinking something was to be said or needed, she paused.

She waited for him to say something. Except that he didn’t.

The man didn’t seem to mind her now. It was like she wasn’t there.

All he did was slouch back while stretching out his legs.

But still he didn’t touch her, decidedly collapsing into his own sort of exhaustion.

So he knows I am here and takes care not to touch.

“Wasn’t this evening lovely?” Genevieve inquired politely, wondering if something was wrong. If she had done something wrong.

Not even bothering to look her way, he said, “Hm. Just fine, just fine.”

Right. Tonight was all acting. Just acting. Nothing but acting… But wasn’t any of it real?

All of those moments she had felt with him that evening ran through her mind even now as he put distance between them. All at once he had shut her down. A wall set between them.

“Fine,” Genevieve echoed with a bitter tang on her tongue. Confusion gave way to frustrated. She balled her hands into fists and took a breath. “Everything is just fine.”

The rest of their ride home was quiet. She was first out of the carriage and in her bed chamber before long, fuming. Only she didn’t know if she was more upset with Julian for his exemplary acting or for her traitorous heart for daring to hope for something real.