Page 18 of The Duke's Return
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 behere in Southwick. Something told him this would be the most intriguing game of his life.
CHAPTER 7
Putting a hand over her heart, Genevieve prayed the rapid beating rhythm might slow down soon.
She didn’t usually startle in carriages. Sometimes she grew ill if she studied the view for too long, but she’d managed well enough all these years. The strangeness that had struck her when Julian caught her in his arms had to be tied to that. The unease in her stomach or something like that.
It’s merely my first time in the countryside, after all. That is all.
Being so close to him had her smelling citrus and thinking confusing thoughts. She’d escaped his grasp at once with a huff before returning to her seat. Then she had to cling to the strap overhead with her free hand.
“Here we are,” Julian murmured as he pushed the partially shaded curtain back for a full view. His eyes had left her, like he had already forgotten her.
All the better for it, of course. This mad dash plan of his can only end in disaster. What a farce of a marriage this is… Andyet, I think I can survive thirty days of this, if it lets me avoid thirty years together.
Just as she was pulling together her courage, Genevieve looked out and immediately shuttered away her thoughts for later at the view.
It was magnificent. Southwick Hall was a beautiful property, as she well knew. Everyone in London knew. There had been young ladies who were determined to wed Julian just so they might have this estate to call their own. And wasn’t this the reason why he had even married her?
She could start to see why. Past the wrought iron gates intricately designed with florals and trees they rolled, moving toward a widely laid out grand courtyard. The stones were nearly polished white, as were the accented pillars and stairs leading up to the front door. There was beauty in every corner, nature intertwining neatly with the human world.
Too small to be a castle, it was still too grand to call a house. Stunned into silence, Genevieve had to admit to herself she had expected something much more austere. But it was more of a summer palace with strong stone covered in thick, beautiful ivy. They drew closer and closer, revealing a handsome estate that had to be a painting come to life. There were lush green grounds around them now, and the scent of roses already tickled her nose.
So busy admiring the landscape, Genevieve allowed Julian to help her out of the carriage. She only took a few small steps before spinning in a small circle to try and see everything.
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured in awe.
