Page 28 of The Duke's Return
Lips twitching, Genevieve stepped further into the ballroom to consider its magnificent. The ceilings were awfully high. She wondered if anyone could ever clean them. Chandeliers hung overhead in almost a depressing manner, like they wished to be used. Were they kept clean in the hopes that they would be used again soon?
She took in the various wallpapers and paintings that made for a merry room before finally answering the question. “London is all I know. My father, the prior Viscount of Richester, never cared for the countryside. Nor does my mother. I never thought to leave until Julian–I mean, His Grace,” she stammered hastily as Mrs. Waverly’s eyes brightened. “Not until he spoke of here.”
Though she was embarrassed over the misstep of using his Christian name, especially around the household, it appeared to have done the trick. Mrs. Waverly warmed up neatly with a soft smile. “Then we are indebted to him for having brought you here.”
“You’re too kind. And you’ve been perfectly lovely with this tour. I know there is much to manage here, but thank you for your time,” Genevieve said with her whole heart. “I very much appreciate this.”
“It was my honor, Your Grace. We are glad to have you here.” Mrs. Waverly hesitated then. The smile slipped as she glanced around before gingerly taking a step closer. When she spoke, it was in a quiet tone. “In fact, we are glad for many reasons, Your Grace. With the recent tenant upheaval, it has been rather complicated for those are our friends and our families… I can only hope…”
Genevieve took her hand though it was a motion much frowned upon. Her mother would have a fit should she see this happen. But having grown up with three sisters, Genevieve knew the impact of physical touch could do wonders.
Looking the housekeeper in the eye, she murmured, “I entirely understand your concern. While I may not be in the middle of such matters, I do care about all of you here. The duke will do all he can to make amends one way or another, Mrs. Waverly. I swear it.”
“You are too kind.” Mrs. Waverly sniffed and then inhaled deeply to put herself to rights. She straightened her shoulders. “What a fine duchess you are, my lady, if I might be so bold. The sudden flurry of your union had many of us very curious, especially after the duke’s rambunctious upbringing. But he was very fortunate to have found you and wed you.”
“You are bold, and I much appreciate it,” Genevieve assured her with a warm smile. “I know we’ll do whatever we can to assist everyone in the village. And on that topic, might I inquire of the post today? And I should like a desk.”
Mrs. Waverly closed the doors behind them on their way out. “There is a lady’s parlor just on the floor beneath us. We peeked in there for a moment, do you recall? It needs some airing out but is usable.”
Remembering the dark place with only a single window, Genevieve shook her head. “Actually, what of the table in the library? I don’t believe I saw anything there when we walked around.”
It didn’t take long to return to the large library where the shelves were only half-filled. There was also a slight scent of mildew. After setting up a few instructions to have the books checked over the next couple of days, Genevieve was seated at the small desk with a half dozen letters.
Mrs. Waverly had left her be, so Genevieve had the room all to herself. She sorted through the letters alongside the most recent accounting books that the housekeeper agreed to share. Curious about the household structure, Genevieve found the notes very sparse and not exactly helpful at a glance. But she held out hope to learn something eventually. Meanwhile, the letters were helpful.
Two of the six were bills regarding sows and yearlings, which she set aside to discuss with the housekeeper at a later time. There was one letter that was already an invitation; someone had found out they would be in the county. Though Genevieve’s first inclination was to toss it away as she so frequently did, she held it to tuck beneath the other three letters.
“If a letter is addressed to the duke,” she mused softly, “surely it is also addressed to the duchess? I’m sure Julian would appreciate the help.”
There was no one to refute her, so she opened those as well.
All of these ones discussed issues of the tenants. She read through the letters thoughtfully, and began to take notes––especially since the last one was by the vicar. Although the man had clearly written all three of them, the latter was the only one meant to be his own voice.
He had tracked dates and discrepancies, she noted. Having been gifted a pen and ink well, Genevieve crossed dates and made a few helpful notes in the corner of each page.
Paper was a luxury she doubted many could afford in the nearby county, so it had been used in the hopes of these men being heard. Genevieve respected that fact. Not wanting to waste time, she waited just long enough for the ink to dry on all three letters before going off to find her husband.
Noting the sun in the sky was already making its descent for the day, Genevieve could hardly believe how quickly time was passing. Her feet picked up speed for a minute before she forced herself to slow down; there was no reason to hasten. Life was slow in the countryside, after all, and she had no plans to worry about.
The thought had her smiling as she wandered through the house for some time before eventually locating the master study.
“Come in,” she heard Julian say through the cracked open doorway when she knocked. He was shuffling through some papers on the desk while surrounded by countless folders and more papers. Her eyes fell upon the glass of brandy and his rumpled hair.
I wonder if he is still out of sorts from this morning.
“Genevieve?”
She blinked, caught off-guard by his use of her name. “We never discussed using one another’s Christian names,” she said before she could help herself.
Julian paused to raise an eyebrow. It was always an eyebrow with him. His gaze darted out toward the open doorway behind her before he met her eyes a second time, the message clear. Then she recalled using his name only hours prior with Mrs. Waverly.
“Is this a battle you wish to fight at this time?” he asked quietly.
“I suppose not… Julian,” she murmured in reply, testing the use of his name on purpose. The moment left her bewildered with an odd feeling in her stomach that she didn’t know what to do with, so she tried to ignore it. “I haven’t come to fight at all, of course. I only thought you should read these.”
Still holding several papers in both hands, Julian frowned at her offering before gesturing with his chin on where she could rest them. “Put them in that pile for now. I won’t get to them yet. This is an absolute mess. I don’t know what my man was thinking, but I have something to teach him about filing, I’m afraid.”
It was strange hearing irritation in his voice. Genevieve had the sudden urge to brush the curls away from his face to make everything better.
