Page 9 of The Duke’s Return (Dukes of the Compass Rose #2)

“Apparently, London cannot function without me. Neither can Southwick.” Julian did his best to explain, in neat and not-too-horrible words where their problems sat. With Parliament, with London, and his very own tenants. And he needed those investments to go through and be signed.

Pinching her nose, Genevieve set out a heavy sigh. “Must you invest? Surely if you let those deals go…”

“Non-negotiable.” He crossed his arms. “I invest because my tenants cannot bring in enough to keep Southwick going. Either I remove them from the land, the very land they and their fathers’ and fathers’ fathers’ have worked, to replace them with sheep, or I find the money elsewhere.”

“But then if you’re helping them, why would they take issue with you?”

He sighed. “Most likely because they know my family and my family has, by all sights and appearances, grown desperately foolish. The wastrels. I adore them but my absence appears to have made matters worse. My great-aunt passed last year, and she used to rein them in. Without her here or myself…”

A soft silence settled in for just a moment before his wife’s voice gentled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. No one mentioned her to me. There was no mention of a funeral, or…”

“She was a distant enough relative no one needed to go into mourning properly,” he admitted and then couldn’t help himself from adding, “But she was a strong termagant who managed us. I miss her greatly. She passed the Monday before our wedding.”

“How dreadful! No one told me. I wish…”

Julian furrowed his brow, wondering where the words had come from.

“It doesn’t matter. What was I saying? Oh, the family.

They…” He paused, remembering what Mrs. Culpepper had said about Genevieve encountering his family.

He bit his lips, oddly ready to ask her about them, to understand how their meetings went.

What she thought of them. “I doted on them too much, I suppose. They’re all very loud. ”

“You miss them.”

“I do, for all the trouble they cause. I used to jaunt across England to obey their countless whims. Too many businesses were started. Half-hearted attempts at university as well. Traveling, sometimes. The holidays were lovely, as they all wanted me there and even my friends, but… Well, we all grow up.” Julian cleared his throat.

He wasn’t sure why he kept talking about them.

He swallowed loudly. “I need to manage my family, see what I can do to support and quiet the farmers, and then review the family coffers. Meanwhile, I have countless investigations to face with Parliament.”

Scooting to the edge of her seat, Genevieve asked tentatively, “I suppose I could help?”

“Which you will. Everyone needs to see that I have taken my proper place once again as the Duke of Southwick. With his bride.”

“Wife,” she corrected.

“Does it matter?”

“The honeymoon period would surely have ended by this time, so yes,” she said primly while settling back in her seat. It took her a minute as the carriage took a turn over bumpy terrain. She grabbed the window ledge to get reoriented, and frowned at the windows.

The bumpier road meant they were getting closer to home. Julian couldn’t resist glancing toward the window as well. He had missed Southwick. This land meant everything to him; he would do anything to have it, to keep it. And he had––he had married to ensure it would remain his.

“Oof,” Genevieve mumbled when their carriage shifted. The bolts below squeaked and she froze, having slid to the edge of her bench. “The journey surely cannot always go like this, can it?”

“The path this way has always been rough. But I think of it fondly since it means we are close to our destination,” he pointed out.

That did little to reassure her. She fumbled with her hat that had fallen to an angle across her brow. “Very well. And when do we expect to start performing our part as a united front?”

“When we next step out of the carriage,” he admitted. “My servants are immense gossips here. Stories are as good as currency out in the countryside, I’m afraid, which means we must at all times keep a united front.”

“Together as in wed. Marriages mean little else beyond babies, which you said was not a necessity,” she reminded him sternly.

“True, but it would be better to give them something else to gossip about. Wife,” he added when she appeared confused for a second. Realization lit up her eyes before she frowned, so he hastily went on. “It is imperative we manage this––”

“Farce?”

“Must you be so cruel?”

She quickly shot back, “I am honest, much more so than yourself. You cannot dress up your words so prettily to deceive me.”

The woman had a way of getting under his skin. His chest tightened as he sucked in a breath. Many thoughts came to mind then but Julian forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. They were about to come up to the drive from that trick angle and then they would be in front of the servants.

“One month, that is all.” He raised his hands in surrender. “We won’t be together all the time. There will surely be a few country socials to attend, a few appearances. Let all see a devoted couple. Then it’s over, do you understand? You can return to London, or stay, or travel as you desire.”

“And you?” She was shifting on the bench again, those curls of hers bouncing about her pretty jaw and sharp eyes. “Where will you be?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll disappear again. Satisfied? You won’t have to see me. I just need one month with you.”

“To pretend we are madly in love?”

Leaning forward, Julian offered his most wicked smile. “Terribly, absurdly in love. Let us be devoted to one another. Can you play this game, Duchess?”

Words seemed to desert her as she huffed. Her back pillow was apparently a problem as well. She shifted it and sent him a look like he had ruined the cushion. Just as he was about to ask if he should simply fling it out the window to please her, they reached the steep curve of the drive.

Neither their driver nor his wife were used to the turn. He realized this just in time as Genevieve squealed in surprise, toppling right toward him.

Julian instinctively reached to catch her.

He caught one arm and had wrapped his other arm around her waist when she tumbled into him. Her free hand gripped his shoulder tightly. He could feel her stomach pressed against a knee as they stared at each other in surprise.

It was those eyes.

Julian blamed the moment on her stormy eyes that seemed to rage and calm all in one go. The sight made his heart stall. He heard the sound of her breath hitching and it deafened all other sound to him, convincing him to lean in closer and closer. She was right there and so terribly warm and sweet.

Just a little taste of those pretty lips…

Then a filthy little word that a duchess should certainly have never heard before escaped her mouth.

He froze in surprise. It was a mistake––or a godsend––as Genevieve hastily reacted in that moment.

She freed herself, pushing him back, and managed to seat herself again on her bench.

The distance between them grew so suddenly that it felt to him like she’d crossed the globe just so she wouldn’t touch him.

He might have felt insulted if he hadn’t seen those eyes, the clear bewildering emotion in them. The intrigue and the panic. The fire.

The carriage slowed down and he grinned at Genevieve, realizing just how interesting these next thirty days might be here in Southwick. Something told him this would be the most intriguing game of his life.