Page 6 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

O nce Genevieve swept out of the room wordlessly, Julian wasn’t exactly certain what to do with himself.

There was a pounding in his heart that reverberated through his entire body and made it impossible to think. He stood there with his hands limp at his side. They felt empty, like he was missing something that belonged there. It didn’t make any sense. And yet he felt immobile for several minutes.

“I need a drink,” he managed to say out loud. He closed the double doors, trying to put his wife from his mind, and went to his sideboard for a bottle of scotch.

This should put me to rights. What is going on with me? Perhaps it was her perfume. It was intoxicating. It made me dizzy. Could I be allergic to lilacs?

He rubbed his brow before taking a sit. But before he could take a sip, there was a heavy thudding knock at the door before it swung open to reveal another familiar face.

“Blackguard!” Sebastian greeted before offering a rumbling chuckle. “It is you. For once the rumors are true.”

“Not all of them,” he said automatically, rising to embrace his old friend.

If there was anyone in London during the season, it was Sebastian Vale, the Duke of Eastwynd.

They had become friends during university alongside two other gentlemen, also born to be dukes.

Julian had been raised into the eventual role of becoming titled someday alongside Tristan Northcott, the Duke of Halewood.

But Sebastian, alongside the fourth member of their party, Ronan Ward, had not had the same childhood.

The bulk that made up Sebastian proved it.

He’d spent much of his childhood amongst the pickpockets and troublemakers in the mews of London, fighting for his bread and safety.

Much of his childhood was still unknown to the world, for he was unwilling to share the details beyond what was in the newspapers with even his friends.

He merely recited that which the whole world knew: a carriage accident had killed his mother and left him stranded as a young boy, leaving him to the darkness of the mews.

Fortunately, Sebastian had been found some years later. A good man once more on his own but with the title on his back. That wasn’t all; he was larger than anyone Julian knew, with a clever mind and more smarts than properly befitted anyone.

“What are you doing here in Mayfair?” Julian asked as he moved away to pour his friend his own glass of scotch. “Last I heard, you had lost yourself amongst the cutthroats of the city.”

“I always know where I am. Thank you.” Sebastian accepted the glass and took a tentative seat on the cushioned chairs that barely fit his frame.

“It is dull business. Gamblers, fighters, and cheats. I am familiar with this world. But I am not familiar with your surprise arrival—amongst all the other things said about you.”

The pointed look made Julian grimace as he set his glass down. “Indeed. Well, you’ve heard everything I have only begun to hear myself. It’s drastic, clearly, so I’m here to address them. Fix them, so to speak.”

His friend raised an eyebrow.

Nothing more had to be said from him sometimes.

And the doubt in his expression said enough.

Rumors, after all, were a dangerous thing.

No one could guess where they might lead.

What damage they might cause. As he had both started and starred in some of the most popular ones amongst the ton in recent years, he knew the risks and rewards.

And there are too many risks here for me to gamble on their worth. The sooner I make amends, the better off we all are.

“Then you are here for damage control.”

Julian drank. “I am indeed.” He put his glass down. “Any ideas what I should do?”

“I hear babies are the next step in marriage.” Sebastian drained his glass, artfully ignoring Julian’s glare. “Or perhaps you can try another post in the cavalry.”

How tempting that sounded in this moment. He could just leave it all behind and bury himself in routines. Waking before sunrise, eating the same meals every day, marching, avoiding ambush… fighting…

“Julian?”

The days at sea had been the easiest since he never went into the dangerous waters where the enemy resided. No, his friends had taken those fights. And then it was while he had been on land that he faced his first skirmish, then another. And a third.

“Julian!”

He jerked at the sound of a loud snap. Lightning quick, he grabbed the crystal glass before him and threw it toward the sound. It was just as the glass soared through the air Julian realized his mistake and braced for impact.

The next sound was only a little softer, but expected. The crystal shattered against the wall. He barely flinched before opening his eyes with a slight frown.

Sebastian was frowning as well as he straightened up, looking behind him toward the glass. His reflexes had to have been just as good to have avoided the flying glass. Tilting his head at Julian, he asked, “What happened out there?”

“Out where?” he retorted.

“I may only be a duke, but I have seen the soldiers after war. The ones fortunate––or less fortunate, depending on some perspectives––who return.” Sebastian set his glass aside to give him a piercing stare. “Is this why you came back or is it the rumors?”

Julian rubbed his brow. “The rumors. I have to salvage the damage to my name before it’s permanent. It’s affecting my estates as well as my family. The duchess included. My return is only for a short while. I’ll be back on my ship soon enough.”

“Or is it too soon?”

“What are you getting at?” Julian said with a look.

His friend was still staring hard at him. Like he was inspecting an insect, looking at the wings and legs and beady little eyes. Julian didn’t appreciate it. He shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“War haunts a man,” Sebastian said at last. “Heroes aren’t made in the moments that appear easy or clear.

Most of the good men die. Those who survive are those who did what was necessary.

Coming back from that is never easy. Some never really leave the battlefield, Julian, no matter how far they go. Where are you now?”

A long moment of silence settled over them as he sorted out those words. He thought of the long nights and awful dreams. He recalled the time he spent healing in the infirmary, and those who never made it out alive.

“Julian?”

He blinked. He shook his head. And then put on the old familiar smile, a uniform he knew well enough. “I’m fine. And I’m here, Sebastian. I appreciate your concern. But my time as a soldier is the least of my concerns right now.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not that serious,” he reassured his friend. “I promise. And I apologize for the… glass.”

With a shrug, Sebastian settled back in his seat. “It’s not my crystal so I have no concerns. But do take care. And what else are you going to do to manage your… situation?”

“Right now, I’m leaving town.”

“Running?”

Julian rolled his eyes. “We’re going to Southwick should you need me. I have a problem to address there that requires urgency. And then I’m hoping to tackle a few problems from there that might help my position in London. It’s a lot of paperwork and a lot of showmanship, if you’re interested.”

“Good Lord, no.” Sebastian snorted.

“Good. Because I will be doing a lot of showmanship with the duchess. To protect her name,” Julian added when his friend’s interest perked. “Nothing more. We still have an agreement: a marriage of convenience. Only it’s somewhat inconvenient at the moment.”

A knock sounded at the door. They turned as he called, “Enter.”

Mr. Norman was at the door alongside a chambermaid with a few cleaning supplies. “Your Grace. Your Grace.” He bowed to each of them. “I believe the duchess noted there had been an accident?”

“Did she hear us?” Sebastian asked.

Sighing, Julian shook his head. He leaned forward on the desk before welcoming them in. “There have been two accidents, I’m afraid. The candelabrum is to my right. But there is a crystal goblet to my left that needs cleaning as well. Thank you, Mr. Norman.”

“So the duchess was here before.” His friend studied the servants before turning to give him a look. “It sounds as though she did not take the news well.”

“I hardly know,” Julian grumbled under his breath. “How fares the duchess, Mr. Norman?”

The butler watched the chambermaid at work. “Her Grace is well. She has taken to her rooms to prepare for the journey after visiting the stables.”

“Stables?”

Nodding, Mr. Norman explained, “One of the horses had taken sick and she wished to be reassured of their improving health.”

Sebastian’s gaze was settled on Julian’s for some strange reason as he said, “She sounds like a very thoughtful duchess. For the rare appearance she makes amongst the ton, I believe she must be very present here.”

“Is she?” Julian asked his servants.

When the chambermaid glanced up warily, she didn’t look Julian in the eye but turned to Mr. Norman. She had to be awfully shy. Even as he nodded and gestured for her to turn back to them, the chambermaid kept her eyes down when she spoke.

“Her Grace is generous and kind. She gave Lisa the time to help her papa when her mam passed with a child too big in her womb. And every Sunday she ensures there is extra portions for everyone in the household. I’ve never had another lady to work for, but I like her very much.”

“Indeed.” Mr. Norman nodded. “A very fine duchess for this household.”

Julian felt irritation stretch across his skin at the butler’s grave expression and remark.

Of course he had married someone ideal for this role.

Did they question it? And yet no one was perfect.

Even he had his faults. Just because he didn’t know what was wrong with Genevieve didn’t mean she was perfect.

“I’m sure she manages the house well,” he remarked thoughtfully. “But I cannot imagine she never makes a misstep. There must be still much for her to learn in a household such as this one.”

“She is very efficient, if that is what you mean,” Mr. Norman noted with a slight furrow now in his brow. “We have not taken on any new household staff beyond her personal maid since Her Grace joined us.”

That surprised him though he took pains not to show it. “No? I don’t understand why not. It was just enough servants on staff last I checked to keep the house managing. Didn’t she hire a proper cook at least? It was Culpepper’s nephew helping out when I was last here.”

“Johnathon Culpepper is quite the cook now. Her Grace brought many recipes from her mother’s household. We enjoy quite simple fare here most of the time,” added the man with a clear look.

Simple meaning frugal, if Julian had half a brain to guess the intentions beyond that butler’s look.

He rubbed his chin. This news surprised him. Though he had offered his wife pin money to manage and do as she liked, he didn’t know what she was doing with it. As for house-related expenses, he didn’t recall spending much time pouring over those details. Nothing had stood out to him before.

But she’s not a saint. She’s stubborn and bold and smells of lilacs. And the household likes her. Trusts her. Respects her. They’re defending her before me even now… And I didn’t even mean for that to happen.

Julian ran his hands through his hair to give himself a moment to pull his thoughts together. Deliberately ignoring the look his friend was sending his way, he forced a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Norman. And…”

“Her name’s Bilmingham,” the butler provided.

“Miss Bilmingham. Thank you for your kind words for the duchess.”

Mr. Norman nodded before gesturing for the chambermaid to join him in the doorway. “Is there anything more we can do for you, Your Grace?”

Shaking his head, he forced a short laugh. “No, you have done enough, thank you. That will be all.”

The two servants made their way out and only then did Sebastian ask, “What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. When he pushed himself free of the chair, the wood creaked but didn’t break. He fixed his gray suit—the only color he seemed to wear in the past couple of years—and stepped back as though he were going to leave.

“We’ve only just started talking,” Julian grumbled. “Sit down. I’m leaving first thing in the morning. We haven’t talked about you or the others.”

“We did discuss me, because there is nothing to say. As for our friends, Tristan is out in the country with his new wife and Ronan is off on his adventures purchasing a new horse,” Sebastian told him blithely.

“There, that is said and done. It sounds like you have some preparations to make. Packing, for one, and peace with your wife for another.”

He rose to his feet with a small groan. “There is no need to worry for peace because we are not at war. The two of us are nothing but strangers. That will change in time. I’ll just… I will simply…”

For once, he wasn’t entirely certain in truth what to do with the woman. Genevieve wasn’t like the trail of mistresses he had enjoyed in his misspent youth. She wasn’t a blushing bride either. The entirety of the woman confounded him.

“You will do what?”

“I don’t know,” Julian confessed. He forced a lopsided grin. “Do you have any ideas for me? It seems I’m woefully unprepared for living alongside a wife.”

Sebastian’s usual stony expressions cracked to reveal a partial smile. “I could have told you that. You enjoy women but pay them little attention beyond what you want to give them. But I’m sure you’ll learn.”

“That doesn’t sound like helpful advice.”

“Because it’s not.” Now the man grinned cheerfully. “This is your problem, my good friend. But if you can graduate university and survive three duels, as well as a naval post, then I think you can survive this.”

Julian shook his head. “You are dreadful motivation.”

“I shouldn’t have to be. You have a wife. She should be motivation enough. If not, then I’m sure she’ll be happy to fix your problems for you,” teased Sebastian. “She sounds more than capable of managing anything compared to you.”

Walking down the hall, the two dukes laughed. It was a badly needed moment with his friend. Julian clung to the seconds as they made their way to the front door, and then offered his farewell.

With the door closed, he turned back to his house. Chests were beginning to be piled up so they might be taken by carriage to Southwick. It was a crowded space but appeared somewhat organized. Voices sounded around the house with steady movement, everyone abuzz with the work.

The laughter died inside him. Julian ran a hand through his hair with nervous energy. He didn’t know what was going to happen next. He didn’t know if his plans would work. If Genevieve would help him. If she would even want to.

But I suppose if everything is this awful, then the only way to go is up. I hope.