Page 14 of The Duke's Return
Their mother coughed. “Eliza! Surely, I raised you better than that. How dare you bring this up? You know I cannot bear to see you wasting your life away. And the lives of your sisters. This entire household relies on you.”
“I thought it relied on Genevieve.”
Straightening as everyone turned to her, she forced a smile. “I do whatever I can to help you all, of course. Is there anything you need of me?”
Please don’t say you’ve heard anything about Julian. Please don’t.
Her mother eyed her warily before turning back to the writing desk. She was working on the accounting books, which would surely affect Genevieve one way or another. But it was apparently more impolite to speak of money than to have bills sent from mother to daughter.
“I will have a match,” Eliza promised. “Captain Hardwick returns in the autumn. He promised me. And when he returns, we shall wed.”
Knees weakened in relief as Genevieve wrapped her in a hug.
An old childhood friend, Genevieve recalled, and a potential union she wouldn’t have a chance of dissuading. She was surprised that her mother said nothing but the woman looked determined to lose herself in the numbers.
“Very well. But know Tessa can’t have her season until you are married,” she pointed out their mother’s rule.
“I can wait. I’m amused enough to hear their stories. And yours, of course. You’re mostly dull but I believe everything is taking a turn.” Tessa leaned forward with bright eyes, eager. “Well? Is it true he’s back? Your duke?”
She hesitated, not certain how to answer that. She didn’t like hearing either that he was her duke. He didn’t belong to anyone. No more than she did.
Then Eliza jumped in. “What about this week? The two of you could attend Lady Morton’s ball. I heard there are to be talking birds for entertainment! Will you be there? Will your husband?”
“Oh, I…”
“Everyone says he was in France. Did you he bring you any French ribbons?” Marianne jumped in. “Oh, what about a French hat? They’re impossible to get here; there’s a waitlist in every hatshop for the next two years and they’ll be out of style by then! Oh, if you wore one to Lady Morton’s ball, you’d be the talk of the season! And you would look lovely, I’m sure.”
Sending her sister an unamused look, Genevieve remarked dryly, “Thank you.”
“Oh, you know I am teasing. It is only because I miss you so. You should come here more often. Or perhaps we can come and visit you! What of that? Perhaps just the three of us––” Marianne went on, growing excited at the notion.
“Don’t you dare,” their mother interrupted in a low voice.
Eliza huffed through the tension in the room. “We would bring a maid, of course. We’re not heathens.”
Genevieve could feel the frenetic energy building in the room. It would build until something crashed or until someone cried. That was how her visits often went, though it was never intentional. But her sisters were spirited, she was uncertain, and her mother was forceful in her opinion.
Until she’d married and taken on her own household, Genevieve hadn’t realized how suffocated she had been. How free she could be. Julian had been right, giving her a life of her own.
Every time she came back, Genevieve felt the heavy clouds of doom lingering overhead. But she continued to come here, hopeful for the day her sisters could have the same freedom.
“I can’t,” she said shortly, forcing out the words—forcing out the reason she had come here in the first place. The words were sharper than she intended, unfamiliar and uncomfortable on her tongue. “I’m leaving in the morning for Southwick with my husband. We’ll be gone for a few weeks.”
“What? Really?” Tessa asked in wonder.
Eliza tilted her head thoughtfully. “That must be nice. Isn’t it lovely? Shall it be a… romantic trip?”
“No.” She said as calmly as she could manage. “It’s necessary.”
The expressions on her sisters’ faces dropped bit by bit before they came to an understanding. They exchanged looks and looked back to her.
“I shall write you the most entertaining letters,” Eliza promised her seriously.
Nodding, Tessa added, “The time shall pass very quickly. You’ll return before long. We’ll have to host a supper party for whenyou do, and I’ll make sure Cook makes your favorite foods. You will return, won’t you?”
Marianne elbowed her sister. “It’ll go well, I’m sure. An adventure. Perhaps that is what you need. So you can smile more,” she added when Genevieve furrowed her brows. “I have heard lovely things about the property and I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself. We’ll miss you.”
“Thank you. I will return soon,” Genevieve made certain to promise. “But I’m afraid I should be going now. There is still much to do.”
