Page 44 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

L aughing, Genevieve wiped away a stray tear and shook her head at her friend who pulled feathers down from her head after looking terribly silly.

“There it is,” Phoebe preened. “There is that laugh.”

“What laugh? I laugh,” she defended herself.

“Not as much lately, which I particularly don’t like. You have a lovely laugh, you know.” Sighing, Phoebe set the peacock flowers down and instead collected a small pearl she could tuck into her hair for the evening. “I miss it. I miss you.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “I’m right here.”

“Yes, but a horribly morose version of yourself,” her friend informed her. Phoebe caught her eye in the mirror and winked before offering a dramatic pout. “Of course, I know you have good reason, but I do wish you had more happiness in your life. You deserve it, my dear.”

With a strained smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Phoebe.”

The woman was a splendid friend. When Genevieve showed up with only one trunk of clothing and a request to stay with her for a fortnight, Phoebe had accepted at once.

The other luggage had eventually arrived and she’d settled in––even attending several events amongst the ton since a distraction was dearly needed.

Only she hadn’t been able to enjoy herself very much. It was all such a bother. She didn’t care to be here or anywhere. So long as she was away from––

“How am I still looking at myself in the mirror when you are clearly going to outshine me?” Phoebe cried out as she gave Genevieve a happy look over. “I bet I could wrap you in nothing but plain linens and you’d still be the loveliest thing in sight.”

She gave a forced laugh. “I already promised to come tonight, Phoebe, you don’t need to keep persuading me.”

Tutting, her friend rolled her eyes as she came over to gently tweak a curl away from her cheek. “I’m allowed to compliment my friends however and whenever I see fit. And I mean what I say. If only you were happy about it. Are you sure you don’t want to talk of what happened?”

If I did, I should very well cry.

While Genevieve didn’t know much about a broken heart, she was beginning to fear that was her current situation.

Everything hurt. Sleeping, smiling, eating, breathing.

Although she managed to go out with Lady Phoebe and her friend’s cousin, Lord Hale, Genevieve didn’t particularly care what they did or where they went.

The opera she had attended the other evening had been a blur, along with two card games and a garden party.

Staying busy was supposed to help. How, she didn’t know. It didn’t seem to be working.

“No, thank you. Not now,” she amended when she noted the furrow of concern on her friend’s face.

There was no good way to explain how she loved a man. A man who happened to be her husband. A man who clearly wished to have nothing to do with her. It was a humiliating mess.

“Perhaps we can start another rumor this evening,” Phoebe suggested with a hopeful smile. She urged her maid to bring over their dancing slipper. “Mention of the upcoming annulment will surely take place. What else might we say of him?”

“I don’t know. I don’t wish to hurt him. We only…” They had spent a month making amends to the family name. Genevieve felt guilt for already sharing the little she had. “Perhaps we wait a while before another one. Besides, I’m sure enough will happen at the ball tonight.”

I am supposed to be living the life I want to now, but I’m miserable. How did that happen? Done as I am waiting on everyone else, now I’m waiting on myself to do something. But I’m afraid I don’t know what I want.

The two of them were finally ready for the evening. Arm in arm, the two ladies started down the hall. Phoebe was teasing her about her hair when they heard a familiar voice.

“I won’t go until I’ve seen her!”

Genevieve froze. Her mind went blank. “Julian?” She murmured as her feet picked up to lead her to him without thinking.

It was Phoebe who paused her, grasping her arm in a gentle hold with a pointed look. “I don’t know everything that has taken place between you and your husband, but you don’t need to do this. I’ll talk to him.”

There wasn’t a chance for her to reply or even to think as Phoebe swept on ahead. Feeling her knees grow weak, Genevieve collapsed against the wall and leaned her head back. Her heart pounded as she consider how close she was to her husband.

What is he even doing here?

She would have thought they would never see each other again. Wasn’t that what he wanted? This was her chance to establish her own life away from him. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Then she pulled herself back into the present as she heard Phoebe and Julian squabbling around the corner.

“For a proclaimed charmer of a gentleman, you don’t have much in the way of manners,” her friend was saying in a terse tone.

“I’m afraid your household has already tried my patience. I will not be kept from my wife any longer. Where is she? I know Genevieve is here. She must be.”

Phoebe scoffed. “Genevieve is not bound to present herself to you for your every whim, Your Grace. You are still under my roof. As my friend, she can do as she likes. I won’t have you forcing your way around. The only way you’ll see Genevieve tonight is if she so deems it.”

“Let me talk to her and she will deem it.”

“That’s entirely backwards and you know it. Besides, why should she come see you? You chased her off.”

A strangled huff escaped him. “I did not! I wouldn’t… No, it was a misunderstanding. I only wish to talk to her. Desperately. All I need is a minute with her, Lady Phoebe, it’s all I will beg of my wife.”

She felt a flutter in her heart.

Julian was begging for a minute with her. The man never begged. He never wanted for anything. If there was something he desired, then he claimed it. Truly, he could probably charge through the house and discover her before someone stopped him. And yet he waited… begging.

Considering his words, and Phoebe’s confidence in her, Genevieve let the anxious nerves wash away. She glanced at her gloved hands and the gown she wore. It was a lovely gown, this soft blue, and she wore it well.

So she decided to reveal herself.

Genevieve lifted her head and rolled her shoulders back before emerging at the top of the side stairs. She prayed she looked composed. Though she clung to the railing, she managed to stand still until they noticed her.

It was Julian who looked first like he had been searching for her.

There was a wildness to the man. She had forgotten there was a storm outside, but she saw it now, the dampened clothes and windy hair.

And there was another brewing storm in his blue eyes that swept over her up and down before meeting her gaze once more.

“Genevieve,” he croaked.

I had forgotten how good it felt to hear him say my name. How lovely it feels to be known. And yet… How it hurts. Am I really setting myself up to break my heart all over again?

Genevieve slowly descended the stairs. She had to move carefully or else her nerves might get the best of her. This was not a time to trip. Measuring each step carefully, she made it to the last one before she decided to speak up.

“I did leave you, didn’t I? Because I didn’t want a husband. I never did. I believe I told you that,” she added as Phoebe apprehensively moved out of her way. “And I certainly don’t want a husband who only returns when he sees fit in the middle of the evening.”

Part of her expected him to laugh, to smile, to tease. To try and charm his way out of this. Or maybe he would lie. Maybe he was here with the annulment papers. She couldn’t begin to guess, only knowing that she feared every possible outcome with misery.

Julian’s throat moved as he swallowed. “I made a mistake.”

The words were so unexpected that a short, bitter laugh escaped her lips. She might have expected many a word but not that. How foolish he made everything between them sound.

“What was the mistake?” Genevieve asked because she didn’t think she could live with the answer, but she definitely couldn’t live without it. “Our marriage? When you first left me? Perhaps when you returned? Or was it when you decided you could simply come and go whenever it pleased you?”

“Genevieve––” Julian reached for her and she stepped back. He winced and dropped his hand back at his side.

Behind her, Phoebe shifted a little closer. The household staff was nearby but out of the way. They would have an audience for this, whatever this might be.

But this didn’t dissuade him. Julian let out a deep breath. “Genevieve, please hear me out but for a moment.”

A moment only.

“I meant to give you freedom. It was what I always craved and it seemed to be what you desired. It was supposed to protect you from the world, from the ton, from… me. From being forced into a life with someone who didn’t know how to be a husband, let alone a person who knew how to love you. And I was wrong.”

“You were?” she asked before she could help herself.

He shared a pained smile. Recognizing that vulnerability in his gaze, she felt her heart skip a beat. “I couldn’t protect you, Genevieve. How could I when you were already so strong, so wise? You were never the one who needed protecting. I fear I was.”

The confidence within her faltered. She had been clinging to anger all this time, but now, much of it began to deflate. For a second, she forgot to be angry. His words settled in her mind with slow understanding and a small burst of hope.

But she couldn’t just let herself melt. Because dreams meant one would eventually wake up to real life. Remembering how he had turned away after her kiss, she lowered her gaze. “You were going to leave me. You were packing your bags without inviting me with you.”

“Yes. And I hated every second.”

Frustrated with herself and frustrated with him, Genevieve shook her head. “Then you should have done something different.”

“You left before I could.”

“Then you should have come for me the moment you realized I had left,” she countered at once, only for his mouth to curve into words he couldn’t seem to say.

He was struggling like a fish out of water.

Though she had sympathy, she wasn’t going to give her heart over in a mistake again.

“But you didn’t. You waited until… until tonight.

Why? Now what do you think will happen? Do you think to stay? ”

He gave a jerky nod, sweeping forward to caress her cheek so gently her breath caught. “Genevieve, please. Let me stay with you. Or stay with me. I want this, I want you. I want to try everything––”

It was torture forcing herself away from him. Her cheek burned as she felt the tears threatening to fall. Still, she stared Julian down. He didn’t flinch or look away. Determination furrowed his brow. Though she noted his hands balling into fists, he didn’t make a move to leave or touch her again.

She swallowed hard. “Words are easy, Your Grace. You know that better than I.”

“Please.” The word was quiet, a soft pleading.

Meeting her gaze, he slowly descended down to a knee before her in a sight that left her speechless.

When she didn’t move away, his boot just barely grazing her own, Julian put out a hand to her.

“Words are easy and actions are difficult. I know this. I have feared such a thing. No one has ever made me even think to try. But that is all I want now with you and for you.”

Such a sight threatened to undo Genevieve. She tried to move away, overwhelmed with the emotions pouring through her as she stood over a man stripped of his defenses and pride. The humility and desire in Julian’s eyes nearly frightened her. How could anyone feel so much?

“I wish to call you Genevieve and for you to call me Julian,” he murmured just loud enough to be heard.

“I wish to see you on your morning strolls and dine with you in the evenings. Nothing would make me happier than to have you making recommendations for my correspondence and laughing at my attempts to charm you.”

A shaky breath escaped her. “Julian…” His name came off her lips before she meant for it to happen.

His eyes shined. “I am not asking you to love me. That wouldn’t be fair for all I’ve put you through. But I cannot pretend for another minute that I don’t love you.”

Forcing a chuckle over the absurdity of all this, Genevieve put a hand over her heart. “You’re a rake, Julian. A snake charmer. We married as strangers and I… How am I supposed to know what this means to you?”

“All I’m asking for a chance,” he reminded her gently. “But I’m not going to leave you again. I’m not going to let my fear win again. We deserve happiness, Genevieve, and I would like for us to find it together. No matter what I must do––”

“Woo me,” she blurted out.

Julian hesitated before echoing, “Woo you?”

Sometimes I wish life didn’t give us so many options to make difficult decisions. How scared I am for what any of this could mean. For Julian to be wrong. But if I turn him away now… what sort of life am I giving myself?

The hope pounded so hard inside her chest that Genevieve supposed it might someday leave a bruise. She swallowed and nodded as she reached out a hand to rest it on his cheek, relieved she had not yet put on her gloves.

And then Julian pressed his hand over hers, holding her there.

“I will give you another chance,” she decided. A slight smile began to creep up her lips. “We may be husband and wife, but we never had ourselves a courtship. Woo me, Julian, and perhaps I will stay this time.”

His eyes widened. “Do you promise?”

Chuckling, she nodded. Genevieve struggled for words while he rose to his feet. He dropped his hand from hers to take her face in his grasp. The way his thumbs brushed against her cheeks collecting moisture told her she must have cried though she had paid that no mind.

“How fortunate I am for a forgiving wife,” Julian marveled.

“Only somewhat forgiving,” she interjected quickly.

That made him chuckle. The wrinkles in his brow were smoothing as he closed the distance between them. “Just forgiving enough. But I swear to you, this will be the worst time in our lives.”

“Worst?”

“Every day after this will be better,” he reassured her. Then he leaned forward to begin peppering small kisses all over her face. “So much better, I swear it.”

Closing her eyes, Genevieve let herself melt into him. “Good. I think that sounds perfectly lovely.” Then his lips found hers, and there was nothing more for them to say.