Page 44 of The Duke's Return
I dread the moment she dares to ask about Julian. She shouldn’t, as my maid, but she’s got a clever tongue and sharp eyes. It’s clear she knows something is up but has said nothing. I can only hope I have convinced her there is at least a fondness between us.
Finding herself distracted by thoughts of her husband and a doubtful maid, Genevieve forgot about the two books on her head. The way she’d been skirting a table while re-planning the night’s dress, since the duke had a footman deliver a ruby and diamond necklace to her that morning, couldn’t have helped.
“Careful!” Elodie cried, starting forward.
Genevieve hastily corrected herself and then shot her a stern look. “I can do this. You know I can.”
“Then why are you doing it now?”
“I already told you.” She shifted the books and sighed. They were talking in a circle and she never like that. “I’m simply… nervous. I don’t know how well I presented at the garden fete, and I don’t wish to disappoint. I’m a duchess. I must impress.”
That had Elodie shaking her head. “I don’t think that is something you need worry yourself about when you have a duke for a spouse. Everyone should be hoping and worrying about impressing you.”
“If I make a foolish mistake…”
“Then they will think it was on purpose and that you are terribly clever, quite ostentatious, and then they will all follow in your tracks,” Elodie reassured her. She tilted her head. “You don’t get this nervous when you are in London.”
No, I simply hide it better there.
“I don’t usually have the opportunity to hang on someone’s arm,” Genevieve corrected her. She turned carefully, keeping her spine straight, and then headed back towards her maid. “Does my walking appear even?”
“Terribly so, yes,” her maid teased her. “Is there anything else you’re worried about this evening for which I might assist you?”
Genevieve hesitated. “I think we should wear the maroon gown. Is that foolish?”
“Not if you’re wearing rubies.”
“Very well. Might you go and air it out?”
“It’s already airing out, along with your dark blue gown should you change your mind,” Elodie reassured her.
Stopping, Genevieve removed the books to stare at her maid. “Do you know me better than I know myself, Elodie?”
“Certainly. It’s what I’m here for.”
“Then perhaps you shall go to the ball in my place.”
“Oh, how lovely that would be! But then I would assuredly embarrass every person here. I have two left feet, after all. Don’t you worry, Your Grace, I’m certain tonight will be wonderful.”
Repeating this over and over in her head, Genevieve bathed and dressed for the evening.
She made it to the mews early as the carriage was still being readied for them. Using the extra couple of minutes, she pulled out her fan and tried to remember the various rules for them. They were forever changing, and some parties changed the rules in particular as though it were a form of entertainment. It was an exhausting practice. Someday, she prayed, no one would care about fans any longer.
“Flirting with me already, my dear?”
Her fan snapped shut. She turned to see Julian walking up to her with an easy grin. Meeting his gaze, Genevieve wasn’t entirely certain what she might see there. They hadn’t talked for the last two days since he’d shut her down while mending his own hand.
She looked down at his gloves. “How are you?”
“Well enough to dance, my dear. You’ll save me a set?”
Though she pursed her lips at his obvious dismissal, Genevieve noted the driver and tiger readying themselves a short distance from them. So she offered a gracious nod. “Certainly, my dear. It is most unfashionable, however, I should note.”
“One is always in fashion when he is married to you.”
She tilted her head. “So you’re always fashionable?”
“It would seem that way,” Julian grinned.
