Page 42 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

“You were. Only you named the misery something else, that’s all,” Sebastian said as he settled back in his chair.

He shifted about though the furniture was hardly a proper size for him.

“You did and said what everyone wanted. Even in university. Not everyone noticed it, of course. You do it so well. You grew up into it, I suppose. But I don’t think it made you happy and I think you’re beginning to realize it, aren’t you? ”

“I’m not miserable,” he growled.

Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian asked, “Do you know what misery is?”

“Of course I do!” With a scoff, Julian shook his head and waved around.

“I was miserable growing up with my mother and father. They never listened to a word I said. All I ever was to them was a toy soldier, a pawn, until they wanted to set me back on the shelf. Then my family pretended to listen once my parents were gone. I thought I was happy. But I kept giving and giving and they never had anything more for me. It haunted me for years, giving and never taking. So I took when I was of age, so everything is as I want. I can take as I want now,” Julian repeated stubbornly.

“And you think that taking from what, everyone, is what makes you happy? You’re obviously not at peace,” Sebastian reasoned.

Something about his words reminded Julian of his father long before the man passed away. When Julian was just a lad, eager to go fishing on a hot summer day, the prior duke had scolded him.

“It isn’t for a duke to behave so childishly. Wipe that hideous smirk off your face. If you cannot compose yourself, I won’t have anything to do with you and neither will the fish.”

And he remembered something else from his mother in the years shortly before she took her leave of him––

“I wish you tried harder, dear. You could be so much better. So much different. Instead, all I see in you is your father. It’s rather awful.”

Too much and too little, never enough and never right. Why is it I can’t be what anyone wants? What anyone needs? All anyone wants of me is the title. The charm. Everyone only cares about the limited parts of me. Everyone except…

Letting out a shaky breath, Julian closed his eyes.

He let the past roll over him. As he tried to ignore the panic welling up inside his chest, trying to fight down the hope, he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. Everyone needed something from the title. No one needed anything from him.

The Royal Navy, of course, would take him back. That was all he wanted to focus on now.

Except Sebastian was still there.

There came the soft voice, “What if you wanted to be with her? Or if she wanted to be with you?”

It created a bitter laugh and Julian shook his head. He downed the brandy in one gulp to shut away the idea. “Never. It wouldn’t… it couldn’t happen. It isn’t right. This isn’t where I belong. I keep taking and I can give now, too, if I go back to the navy.”

“Is that what you want?”

He huffed. “It isn’t about what I want.”

“It could be. Julian, think. I expected you to be cleverer about this. You must understand. Just because the past hurt you doesn’t mean you have to let the present or the future do just that. You’re not running from something, are you?”

“No, of course not.” But what if he was?

Drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair, Julian scowled ahead at the rug beyond his feet. He wasn’t running. He was simply leaving. He would forget about Genevieve and she would forget about him. That was the way it was supposed to be. Wasn’t it?

In so doing, he would lose her all over again.

He didn’t realize he muttered that aloud until Sebastian said, “What if you didn’t have to?”

Unable to sit in that blasted uncomfortable chair for another minute, Julian rose. He grabbed the bottle of brandy to pour another glass. Moving about the room at a steady pace, he drank and shook his head. He did it once, twice, and three times before draining the glass.

In his head were a mix of thoughts. He felt the hope and every time that he did, he remembered the silver in Genevieve’s bright eyes. How brightly she had shone. How much she had dimmed when he left her.

It was his fault. He had hurt her, just like those in his life had hurt him. What if he made everything worse? What if they made everything better?

Fortunately, Sebastian let him stew on this in silence for some time while Julian warred with himself inside his mind.

He struggled to hear what his friend had said between all that Genevieve had shared with him and everything his family said through the past. His various aunts and uncles, the past women in his life… everyone said something different.

Handsome. Charming. Always charming. Thoughtful. Always giving. Witty. I was everything they wanted and yet never enough. Because they always take. Even Genevieve takes. She wants something from me I don’t know that I can give. I don’t know that I have a heart any longer.

A shaky breath escaped Julian as he took his seat again. “Nonsense,” he decided at last. He tested out the words to see if he could believe them, if he could manage one more lie. “It’ll all work out.”

But his world crumpled with the casual statement Sebastian made next.

“I hear our Lady Southwick visited the theatre last night,” he said lightly. He paused to pour them both some more brandy. “She was there on the arm of Lord Hale. He’s an old boxing mate of mine, and suggested he might desire to court her once you leave again.”

His gut twisted. He’d drunk too much brandy. And his heart… what had he done to it out in the countryside?

Thinking of Lord Hale, Julian knew the man from around London and even from University. The man was a few years older and had been most unfortunately widowed less than a year into the union many years ago. He was passably handsome, some said, still eligible, and quite dull in Julian’s opinion.

“Oh?” Julian forced himself to get out.

And now he wants to approach Genevieve? My wife?

“It’s not spread about the ton,” Sebastian went on with a glance his way, “but apparently, she mentioned a potential annulment to him. What of that, Julian?”

He rubbed his face for a minute before he managed to curve his face into a smirk. It was fake, as many of them had been in the past.

“What do you expect?” He asked, vying for that nonchalant feeling he’d once clung to for years.

His cravat threatened to choke him through the following words as he forced them out.

“It was never going to be a normal marriage. If that isn’t what she’s willing to have, then so be it.

She’s free to do as she pleases as we shall both be free of each other. ”

But the beat of his heart was frantic.