Page 41 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

J ulian stood at the window with his bed chamber to his back, studying the rise of the morning sun. The golden rays spread far across the land. His land. The land he had known all his life.

Today was the last day he would see it for some time.

Trying to take in the magnitude of that, however, wasn’t working as he had previously planned.

He thought this would be enough. A calm and quiet morning would take place––he could ride out this afternoon, say farewell to the villagers and his tenants to ensure their updated agreements were in place, and then he would end the evening by having supper with Genevieve.

While the latter part left him uneasy, Julian thought it best. He had ignored her previous invitations, and he needed to show the household that they were parting on good terms.

She’ll be all right in the end. She’s strong, independent, and bold. She’ll forget me within a fortnight.

He had to keep reminding himself of this. Otherwise, he feared the invisible pull between them would grow strong again and pull him in. Pull him to her. The thought worried him. If they were alone, there was no telling what might happen or what he might say.

“I’m done playing,” she had told him yesterday.

One more supper and then we are done for good, I assure you of that, Genevieve.

“Genevieve,” he murmured just loud enough to taste the name on his lips. Almost like he could taste her again. He sighed, leaning forward to rest his head against the window frame. It was loathsome being here now and yet so far from her.

I’ll eventually forget as well. And even if I don’t, it is what I deserve. An unhappy marriage was the only option ever available to me.

“Your Grace, good morning.” His valet entered the room with just enough noise to alert him of his presence. “Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Not yet. I’ll break my fast first.” Julian turned around with a forced smile. Dressed only in his shirt and pants, he could eat here and then change as needed for his ride. But there was no rush just yet. “Bring me pen and paper as well so I might deliver a note to the duchess.”

His valet wavered for a moment, as though they hadn’t gone through this routine for the last couple of days, before bowing and seeing himself out.

Julian turned back to the chamber when the valet returned. The two of them gathered at the small table in the corner of the room. On the tray that his valet delivered included his current breakfast of late: one muffin, two apples, warm tea, and three eggs.

To the side was a folded piece of paper but no pen.

He paused and then glanced up. “I’ll need a pen to do my writing, won’t I?”

“Right, yes, of course, Your Grace. I only… We must…” His valet cleared his throat then spoke again like he had practiced his words. “Would you like to read your letter before I fetch your writing desk and instruments?”

It took a moment to conceive of the words.

“My letter?” Julian echoed dumbly. Then he slowly reached for the paper tucked neatly beside the tea as an ill-boding feeling settled low into his stomach. He didn’t know what this could mean. What it should mean. Only that he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever happened next.

His valet murmured something Julian didn’t hear, then stepped back.

Seeing the writing on the other side of the fold made him freeze. He had only seen Genevieve’s writing a few times, but he would recognize the neat penmanship anywhere. She had a way of curving her letters the closer she turned to the sides, which was a silly and darling little thing to see.

‘Julian,

‘I know you’re taking your leave soon. I won’t make assumptions as to where or what you are up to, only that it is clear we must go in our separate directions.

I’ve taken my leave; the household was ordered not to share this with you until a certain time, so do not blame them.

I’ve gone to stay with Lady Phoebe for a spell before I sort out my next decision.

‘The current decision here, however, is explicitly clear. That is thanks to you. Our estrangement worked when we were complete strangers. This month has opened my eyes in more ways than one. We are no longer strangers, I fear, and for that reason, I cannot remain married to you.

‘I request an annulment from you in this marriage immediately. Do as you will with the powers that be to make this happen. Free us both. I’ll keep to myself to avoid scandal.

I can even leave England if that is what is required.

Only I shall no longer consent to spend the rest of my life married to a man who will constantly refuse me.

‘Submit the official paperwork to Parliament by week’s end, if you so please, or I shall take upon the effort myself. I have already made an agreement with another solicitor should you refuse.

‘Do take care of yourself,

‘Genevieve’

A short laugh escaped him. “What the devil?” It shouldn’t be. Julian stared at the letter, and reread it twice more before it began to dawn on him.

She had left him. This morning, she had taken her leave––and was determined to be free of him for good.

His stomach plummeted. Taking a seat, Julian struggled to breathe.

He tried to understand what she was saying.

What she wanted. Didn’t he do more than enough for her?

He’d given her a raise of pin money. He had told her they would never have to see her again.

This month was all that was required for them to go their separate ways. How could she want more?

“Is everything all right, Your Grace?” his valet asked hopefully.

Julian jerked his head up. “Yes. Yes, of course it is. The duchess’s friend appears to be ill. I’m glad she… she left.”

He felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t sit there and mope.

Forcing himself to move, Julian had to eat his food.

Then he took the planned ride, had planned conversations that went in one ear and out the other.

He kept his body as busy as possible in order to stop thinking about the woman who had left him.

It can’t be real. It’s all in jest. She’s angry and she’s doing this to get back to me.

It wasn’t like he wished for her to come back, Julian told himself. The relationship wasn’t meant to work. He didn’t want love. Neither could they even love one another. They simply… had chemistry and it was never going to be enough.

The day went on too long before he decided to retire, stewing late into the evening about the absence of his wife. He had been so prepared to leave her behind. It was supposed to be for the best. Instead, she had already gone.

Perhaps it is best this way. I don’t have to worry that she thinks I’m running away from her or some other silly notion.

Julian returned to London and took up in another house he’d once used as his bachelor pad. There were only a few servants and few knew he was there. It was for the best, he told himself.

At least until I find out where she is. If she is still with Lady Phoebe. Or anyone else.

“So the rumors are true.”

Glancing up, Julian raised an eyebrow at his friend, Sebastian. Lord Vale, the Duke of Eastmoor, was a giant of a man with an easy-going manner. He smiled as he took a seat at Julian’s side.

“We weren’t sure if you were here or not. Thought you might still be out in Southwick. The country air seemed to agree with you and the duchess,” his friend carried on.

Julian scowled. The place already stank with cigars and the annoying chatter of lords who gossiped too much. He didn’t need this from a friend. And yet Sebastian had brought over a bottle of brandy, so he grudgingly filled up his glass.

“I’m here,” was all he said in reply.

“And the wife?”

“This is a gentlemen’s club, is it not?” Julian said mildly before taking a sip.

He shifted in his chair. This was usually his favorite seat in the house.

His favorite bottle, too. Except the brandy was too bitter and the seat was uncomfortable.

Nothing was right of late. He’d returned to London only days ago––he had another week before he intended to ship back out––but it bothered him how much he couldn’t stand this place any longer.

First Southwick and now London. There is no peace for me anywhere in this world.

“Julian?”

He jerked to look at Sebastian. “Hmm? What is it?”

His friend raised an eyebrow. “I should be asking you the same thing. I just recounted the last year to you about the home for orphans I helped to fund, and you said nothing. Looks like you didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?”

“Oh. No, I suppose not.”

“Then what is it?”

Frowning, he asked, “What do you mean?”

The man leaned forward to whisper, “What is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you out of sorts.”

“Then how would you know this is what it means for me to be out of sorts?” he countered.

“Because I’m not an idiot, that’s why.” Sebastian sat back in his seat.

He studied Julian for a long moment before standing up and closing the door in the side study where they sat.

Julian should have done that an hour ago to have himself some peace.

“Tristan wrote to us, you know. About all that happened in Southwick. Did you find your wife was more than just a signature on a marriage certificate?”

That made Julian scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“She’s not living with you. I heard you came to London separately. But by all accounts, still, the two of you are madly in love. So, our little actor, did you practice so well something became real?”

Flinching, he shook his head. “You’re making things up. We acted as we needed to. And love isn’t real. Especially in a marriage, you fool. Not that you would know; you’re still a happy bachelor.”

“And you were a miserable bachelor,” countered Sebastian.

The very notion made Julian burst out laughing. “What the devil do you say? I was an utter rake, happy and witty. No restraints, no baggage, none of that nonsense. I was meant to be a bachelor. I wasn’t miserable a single day.”