Page 20 of The Duke's Return
“And?”
“She won, clearly.”
A small chuckle escaped Genevieve before she could help herself. Her hand clapped over her mouth. She looked about before turning to Julian in bewilderment, wondering how she could laugh alongside him.
He was grinning and clearly appeared happy. It was terribly confusing as she tried to make sense of this moment with her husband.
Except I know what I saw. I heard the pause. Behind his smile, there is something there, like a shadow. I don’t know my husband at all, do I?
CHAPTER 8
After distracting Genevieve with a few stories, Julian wound their way back into the house. Mrs. Waverly led her down the hall for a short tour on the way to her bath, leaving him behind.
It was for the best. He needed a minute to breathe.
Shifting his cuffs, Julian forced himself to look around at the gilded cage he had been raised in. It was strange coming back after all of these years. How he loved this property. How he loathed it.
The front hall had stood for centuries, once part of a fortress. It had been framed and painted and decorated over time. Surrounding walls had crumbled to allow for a lighter structure, more cozy and comforting. The decorations, all still by his mother’s design, almost made him feel as though he were still a young lad scampering about in hopes of seeing his parents more than once a year.
I can almost hear the footsteps now. How is it every time I return, this heavy weight settles upon me? My universityescapades here have done little to help me forget the past. I should at least have redecorated.
“Your Grace?”
A smile slid across his lips before he turned to face his butler. At least this was a true smile. “Mr. Thomas.”
“I cannot say enough how glad I am to have you here. We were beginning to worry you were meant for a career with the navy,” the man said with a pointed look.
“There is hope for me yet, I hear.”
But that only earned him a harrumph from the man. Mr. Thomas had been with his family for as long as Julian could recall. A second son of a third son of a penniless viscount, William Thomas had managed to enlist in the cavalry at a young age. No one would hire him upon his return after losing an eye, but his mother had taken pity on the fellow and brought him in as a stable hand. Mr. Thomas had risen through the ranks in time to become head butler.
Though he came off gruff and stern, Julian still recalled the younger version of him who had taught him how to ride a horse and how to fish.
“You don’t intend to go back, do you?”
“We will see,” Julian decided to say after a slight pause. He had his plans but alerting the household to his imminent departure might raise eyebrows.
He hadn’t considered that sooner, nor the notion he would have to lie to his old friend. Mr. Thomas had supported him through his years of being a rake all around England, and he owed the man better than that.
“You have a wife. A duchess, whom I am sure you wish to ensure is settled,” Mr. Thomas added as he lifted his chin to peer at Julian. “Permanently settled, I would assume?”
Realizing the man’s expectation, he coughed. “Oh, that. I… We have come for business matters, my old man. Not because she is expecting.”
“Ah. What a shame. But there is hope to be had. More hope should you stay at her side instead of fleeing the country,” Mr. Thomas added. He’d always had a loose tongue. Normally, Julian was highly amused by it. Just not today. “It’s high time you’ve had yourself an heir.”
Julian glanced away to make sure the one request he had here, that his parents’ portraits lived nowhere outside of the gallery, still remained fact. He remembered one painting of them by the stairs and how their eyes were forever following him.
“Your Grace?”
“Hm? Oh, perhaps. Perhaps not. It is not the highest concern I have,” he started and then hastily corrected himself, “I am enjoying the time I have with my wife. Should the children come, we shall be twice as content as we are now.”
Which is hardly at all.
Mr. Thomas tilted his head inquisitively but then changed the subject, inquiring if there were any concerns he had regarding the grounds. The two of them talked, slowly making their way to his chambers. There, he said farewell before bathing and dressing for supper.
It was the first meal he’d enjoy with his wife, Julian realized, as he greeted her in the drawing room. He hadn’t stayed after the ceremony for anything.
“There you are, my dear,” he said slowly so he could take his time to soak her in. Dressed in a dark blue, she was a pretty sapphire practically shining in the candlelight. A single diamond nestled against her throat as she rose from her seat to greet him. “I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”
