Page 43 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)
J ulian left Sebastian and left the club.
He spent the rest of the day riding through the park, considering his options. There was a chance he might be able to leave sooner to rejoin the navy. But he needed to formalize one last contract, so he was needed for at least two more days.
Two dreadful, awful, and utterly miserable days.
His valet worried about him every time they saw one another, asking if he needed tea or herbs to rest better.
The cook asked him daily what else he would like to eat if he wasn’t going to eat what was provided.
Even the horse he rode through the parks in the morning seemed to go slower, more carefully, like he might fall off.
I am not broken! He wished to shout it at the world. But he feared no one would listen. No one had ever listened to him before.
At least, not until Genevieve.
Thinking back to the night in the library where he had confessed much of his past and the pain he carried with him, Julian grudgingly accepted that she was different than the others. Than the mistresses wanting jewels, than his family wanting funds, than the ton wanting a witty and charming duke.
So what did she want?
“Coward,” he felt her shout at him. “Why?”
Why else?
That night in the library, though, he had been honest. He had been vulnerable. He had told her the truth and found that she could listen. That she felt for him. No one had ever done that before. Not as though they wanted to. And yet when he had spoken, she had drawn closer.
“Though you have played a part and charmed the world, never content with your lot, it doesn’t mean everything you did was a mistake.
We all make mistakes, Julian. We simply have the opportunity to…
to find our own way. Life is but a journey for us all.
Sometimes we have to find the right path and that can take a very long time.
But every step still takes us somewhere. ”
Julian felt lost.
He remembered this aimless feeling from his youth, when his father had passed away.
Signing the papers for the dukedom had been stressful, for he hardly knew what to expect.
The prior duke hadn’t enjoyed teaching him how to manage the estates, and part of Julian hadn’t really thought it would ever happen to him. At least not for many years to come.
When that happened, his uncle had been there for him. The man had come swooping in with a generous smile and greedy hand.
Now, Julian knew he couldn’t trust his family. He didn’t want to have to pay them to listen and care for him.
I just want her.
She had never asked for money. She hadn’t asked for much of anything, except for him.
Torn to shreds inside, Julian struggled to find peace and understanding within his heart. He signed the last of his papers at his steward’s place of business and returned home with the hope of leaving for port the following morning.
However, there was a letter waiting for him upon his return to his bachelor townhouse.
‘Julian, stop giving yourself an apoplectic fit. You two rub along. Stop castigating her and yourself and go to her. That’s an order. Tristan.’
There were two more that followed.
‘Julian, I have received word you actually enjoyed the leg-shackling business of marriage. You’ve always been up for a challenge, haven’t you? Or are you going to let it best you this time? Ronan.’
‘Confound it, Julian, stop being a clodpoll. I mean it. You know what to do. 21 Heather Lane. Seb.’
Julian took the letters to the next room, the drawing room, and stared at them for some time. His heart beat in his chest as he struggled to ignore his friends’ advice.
“I told her to go, didn’t I?” He told the empty room. “The marriage was always a farce. It doesn’t matter if she gets an annulment. She can have her freedom. She can leave…”
His chest ached no matter how much he rubbed it. He’d been trying to say these words for days, to convince himself it didn’t matter. That Genevieve didn’t matter. But his breath always left his lungs and made it difficult to inhale.
What if she really does leave me?
The annulment papers had never been submitted; Julian realized he had one more day. He should have talked to his man of business.
But could he do it?
An image of Genevieve came to mind as she stood at the side of Lord Hale, smiling and laughing and welcoming people into a beautiful home. Looking at him like a stranger. This would surely be their life if he didn’t do anything different.
He couldn’t answer the question without choking once more. He couldn’t go through with the annulment. He wouldn’t. Julian brushed his hair back from his face and stared at the letters in disbelief.
What am I supposed to do?
The three friends usually had decent advice. Sometimes he ignored it. He meant to do it this time, but he wasn’t sure that he could. When faced with the thought of losing Genevieve for good was too much, Julian began to realize that he couldn’t go through with it.
He couldn’t lose her. Finally listening to the impatient beat of his heart, Julian moved back to his feet. He had to get Genevieve back no matter what it took him. Whatever the cost might be, he would pay it for her.
“My horse!” Julian bellowed. He grabbed Sebastian’s letter with the address. “Saddle my horse!”
There was a storm brewing outside, but he didn’t care. His grooms shared looks before tentatively asking, “Shall we wait until the rain recedes?”
He thought of the pain and fury in Genevieve’s eyes. How he thought he could live with that, he didn’t know. Julian had never thought of himself as cruel, but he had been a complete devil to her. There was much to apologize for and he couldn’t start until he reached her.
“No. I’ll return… eventually.” Leaving behind the hat, he accepted a cloak and climbed into the saddle.
His stomach churned as they bolted down the street.
They were soaked before he made it to the end of his lane. But Julian didn’t care one whit. All he could hear were the devastating words he had told his wife over and over again. How he had ignored her, mocked her, and deceived her.
She really is much braver than me. She could be honest whereas I clearly don’t understand the meaning of that. But I have to do something.
Growing furious with his past self, Julian ground his teeth and wished he could fight himself. Perhaps he’d jump into the ring someday with Sebastian and let the man beat him to bits. That was what he would deserve.
It was real, Genevieve, blast it.
Heather Lane wasn’t a street he had been to before, but he had a fair idea of where to find it.
Julian raced back and forth across Mayfair to find the street and then started down the lane.
The horse beneath him panted and shivered in the cold, so he promised countless delights and relief to get them just a little further.
And then he found the house.
Julian wanted to freeze right there and study the place where his wife had found refuge. Though he knew she had returned to the Southwick house a few times––that being the reason why he had taken up the bachelor quarters––she spent most of her time with Lady Phoebe.
Thinking of Genevieve, Julian nearly toppled off the saddle. He sneezed and shook free of the rain though that did little good. But he cared not, needing to find his wife.
He couldn’t bear the thought of another night passing without seeing her. Had they not suffered enough? Or, he feared, did she still suffer? He worried about what she might be doing, what she might think, but he knew he had to try.
“We have no knocker,” were the first words of the butler opening the door for him when he made it there.
But Julian was prepared for the polite refusal, and bullied his way in with a shoulder. “Please have someone tend to my horse. And I don’t care. I know the duchess is here and I must speak to her at once.”
Anger coursed through him as he recounted his missed opportunities with Genevieve. There had been so many chances for him to be mindful of her. He could have been honest. He could lingered closer. He could have kissed her sooner. He could have kissed her longer.
“Er, Your Grace?” the butler guessed.
“Tell her I’m here,” Julian repeated staunchly, breathing hard. He sucked in a deep breath. “Because I will not leave until I’ve spoken to my wife.”