Page 16 of The Duke's Return
“A duke can sit however he likes,” Julian said defensively, eagerly taking the bait. He felt the tension rise between them when the young woman glowered his way. “After all, you’re sitting like that?”
“Like what?” she demanded.
But he just returned her comment with a smirk.
That made Genevieve huff. “What a scoundrel you are, Your Grace. Hardly fit for company. Really, do you slouch most awfully. You’re going to tear a seam. And I won’t be the one to fix it,” she added with a stubborn tilt of her chin.
“No? I thought that’s what a wife does.”
“You wouldn’t know since you’ve been gone all this time,” she told him as though he needed a reminder.
“But I’m here now.”
“So?” She had glanced away for a second, down toward her knitting needles. Then she looked back up and met his gaze. There was ferocity in her eyes, a neatly lit fire set just for him.He had been stoking it all this time without real intention. Now, however, he saw it and he liked it.
Genevieve might have been a quiet, private duchess who never left a mark in the gossip rags––he looked whenever he could––but there was a fire within her.
Knowing this now, he couldn’t help but to let his lips curve slightly upward. He knew. A flush crept up her lips as she stared at him. Their eyes met and he could see the question in them, followed by concern and doubt. There was that familiar suspicion. She held his gaze for some time, impressing Julian. He had expected her to fold much sooner. But for all their sharp retorts and bickering, their constant need to bite at one another, he supposed they would do just fine for strangers in this marriage.
“You are too much, Your Grace.”
He blinked. “Am I?”
“You’re staring,” she accused him. “I cannot concentrate on my shawl when you look at me thus. It’s hardly proper manners.”
A heavy feeling suddenly toppled against his chest and into his stomach, leaving him uncertain of what to say next. What to do. His amusement went out the window in realizing that he was just as affected by her as she was by him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
Carriage rides are more dangerous than I recall. This proximity is much too close for comfort after all. Never again. I’ll purchase a donkey before I’m forced to do this again. What am I doing beyond losing my mind?
He let out a grunt. It was all he could think to say. He was a husband, certainly, but one without any knowledge of how to be one or how to treat a wife.
It’s not as though my parents offered any reasonable example.
Seconds became minutes. The carriage tumbled along uphill and then down, curving around the path and leading them further south. Silence settled between them, admittedly somewhat uneasy, for a while.
But not forever, because Julian still had more to say.
He eventually found the words, matters that actually needed to be discussed instead of pointed fingers. Mulling over it for some time, he let Genevieve finish her shawl. He told himself it was merely out of courtesy instead of the intriguing need to watch her fingers flying alongside the needles.
“We need to speak.” His voice sounded too loud in the silence between them. He was certain it even echoed.
There were so many small ways to show an expression. His wife did them very well in the simple lift of her eyebrow. “We did. It didn’t go well.”
“It is important that we are seen in a companionable way,” Julian started only to realize that didn’t sound right. The alarm on her face told him so. Straightening up, he gave a quick shake of his head. “In public, we need to present a united front.”
Genevieve stiffened. “Is this part of some plan of yours? To what end?”
For this, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He didn’t like talking business. And he didn’t like talking about thiswith his wife. But it needed to be done, and much sooner than later.
“I told you there some rumors, did I not?”
That immediately had her hunching her shoulders in distaste. He braced himself for a lecture about the family name.
“Rumors hardly seem to justify the need to leave London in such haste,” she said, “but I suppose this is what most people do when their names are dragged through the mud, as you said. They flee the city.”
If only matters were so simple. But he decided to be relieved when the lecture didn’t come. Julian rubbed his hands together before he went on to explain himself. “They are rumors. Serious rumors, I’m afraid.” He saw her straighten from the corner of his eye. “Enough to hurt the family name, clearly, which is why I am here. With you.”
“What did you do?”
