Page 3 of The Duke's Return
She moved back a step before she could help herself.
Glancing over her shoulder, she was relieved to find the servants had made themselves scarce. Or at least were pretending to be out of their way. Then she turned back to Julian, wondering what he could possibly mean.
“It’s not children, is it? You said you don’t need an heir,” she added sternly.
“As impressed as I am that is where your mind went first upon seeing me after so long, my dear wife,” Julian said in a teasing tone that made her cheeks heat unreasonably, “it is indeed another legal matter. A few of them, in fact, and I believe you will be just what I need.”
There had been no greeting. No how-do-you-do. After eleven months, the duke strolled back into her life as though nothing had ever happened. As though he had the right to request anything of her since washing his hands of their wedding.
He said he wouldn’t force me to be anything, to do anything. And yet there’s a whisper of the past in my ear…
“Appearances,” she echoed the past lightly. “Is that what you need me for?”
“Beautiful and clever. I really did well,” he noted fondly. She refused to acknowledge the way he eyed her, as though he might like her. The lie wasn’t necessary since, as his wife, she was bound to help him.
When he didn’t continue, she grew impatient. “Is that all?”
“You have the most fascinating eyes,” he said, throwing her off-balance. She stumbled back a step and waved off his hand when he reached out for her. “I beg your pardon. I have been quite out of sorts… but never mind that. My business affairs required my presence, and I was able to wiggle my way out of the navy post. Worry not, I shall be most discreet.”
“Do you even know how to do that?” she asked before she could help herself. Even now, on occasion stories of his past adventures were whispered about the ballrooms and tea shops.
He offered a perfect bow. “For you, my wife? I can do anything.”
Huffing, Genevieve ignored the tension in her chest as she gazed at him. He had no need to taunt her so. “Very well. But do stop calling me that. It’s obnoxious. And a husband doesn’t bow to his wife.”
“Even if he has been absent since their wedding day?”
A flush crept up her cheeks. “I may not be particularly well versed in every rule of society, but no, I do not believe that creates the need for a bow. But it matters not. I must be on my way, I think I hear the carriage. The household will tend to you.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have not turned my life into a tableau for an absent husband,” she pointed out. “Why should I do so for one who has returned? I am attending an art gallery today with Lady Phoebe.”
“How quaint. I do so enjoy art.”
She froze. “This is not an invitation. A moment ago you told me not to change my routine for you.”
“Does that mean I cannot accompany you?”
The pout he wore on his lips better befit a puppy, not a duke. She shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t understand him. But how could she? The two of them were still strangers. This was only her second conversation with Julian Ashcombe and again he insisted on confounding her.
“You are ridiculous,” she muttered just loud enough for him to hear.
“I’m terribly sorry, dear, you’re just too easy to tease,” he said with an apologetic smile.
Frowning, she told him, “Then try harder.”
“But where is the fun in that?”
A loud knock at the door sounded behind them, making her jump. She moved to the door, but Julian slid past her with a smirk and yanked it open before she could. Had Genevieve been less of a lady, she would have found it difficult not to elbow him.
Lady Phoebe waved from her carriage as her footman stood sheepishly in the doorway, clearly unwilling to manhandle the woman to prevent her entry. It was for the best, but sometimes Genevieve wished her friend bore more patience. “Gen, darling! Hallo! Are you ready?”
“How exciting,” Julian started.
“Don’t you dare,” Genevieve muttered before he could go on.
And then unable to help herself, she stomped on his foot. It happened before she could think. Suddenly she was fifteen again and arguing with her sisters. Too late, it was done. She kept the surprise from her features, schooling sternness on her lips. He moved back with a look of shock.
