Page 49 of The Duke's Return
His wife, yes, but she had hardly been anything before they met. Not exactly a wallflower but not quite a diamond of the season either. Mostly forgotten unless someone had a need of her, particularly Phoebe or her sisters.
If only he wouldn’t look at me like that. Like this. It does all sorts of odd things to my soul. My heart beats like it will conquer half the world should it only escape my ribs. He must look at all the ladies like this, and so it means nothing.
He was, after all, a rake. The most rakish fellow in all of London, if not England. And now amongst the countryside. While she couldn’t confirm he’d enjoyed any flirtations or liaisons since stepping out into the country, part of her wondered if he still found his chances.
I wouldn’t be surprised. It’s not as though he cares for me. Even with our plan to deceive everyone about our happy union, heis daring enough to do as he likes when we are not together. The man gambles with hearts and smiles, discarding people whenever he desires like we are naught but useless cards.
Whatever use he had for her, after all, would soon leave her alone. Again. None of this ever lasted. And because of that, Genevieve told herself she didn’t care.
“Would you like another glass?” he inquired at last, finally filling the silence with something so she could breathe.
“No, thank you. I believe I’ll take a turn about the room,” she added.
Julian nodded. “I can put the glasses away and accompany you.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Julian squinted at her. “Why not?”
“Because I think I’ll go outside instead. I could use some fresh air. It’s getting stuffy in here. Besides,” she spoke rapidly to spit the words out, “I think you’ve done well in impressing everyone with awareness of our union since holding me as you did. Everyone noticed. I don’t think we even have to dance tonight.”
He gave a slight shake of his head with a befuddled look in his eyes, making him look rather boyish since he still wore half a smile. “Now, darling.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she knew she couldn’t keep standing here. She couldn’t let him call her that endearment. “Fetch me when you’re ready to leave the ball.”
How difficult it was for Genevieve then to wear a smile, brushing his arm with her fan as though it was a kindly parting. She couldn’t have it appear like she was leaving him, after all. Ithelped that he didn’t budge. All Julian did was blink and watch her as she left.
The back doors weren’t terribly far. She picked up her pace and darted out onto the terrace within a minute.
Finally alone, thank the heavens.
Or mostly alone. Her eyes darted about to the lit lanterns leading to the garden. A few others had meandered out here or down the steps to enjoy the flowers in the moonlight. What a beautiful landscape it was here. She couldn’t see where the garden ended even when she went to the railing for a view.
Genevieve stayed put there for some time after.
Her gaze adjusted to the evening lighting. Nodding along to those who passed her by, she managed to appear casual and at home while still alone. The music played behind her for some time. But Genevieve couldn’t bear to be near it, not with her stomach in knots over Julian’s strange behavior.
It’s all acting, that’s all it is.
She had finally calmed down somewhat by the time the musicians stopped so everyone might go in to supper. Forcing herself to join the mass, she found it to be an open setting in the next large room. Everyone could take a seat while trays were rolled along for everyone’s access to take as they desired.
As no seats were assigned, she put herself in the corner with a few older attendees who welcomed her kindly and considered themselves very honored to be sitting with a duchess.
“You are too kind,” she murmured. “I only wish for a lovely evening with everyone tonight.”
Mr. and Mrs. Timbry to her left beamed at her. “And how lovely it is! A perfect ball for you to attend,” the wife added cheerfully. “Lady Penbury is the finest hostess in the entire county.”
“Aye, south of London, I’d say,” her husband said.
“How splendid.” She turned and nodded when the nearest servant came their way with a rolling tray. Everyone invited her to pick first, so she took the smallest options available before letting everyone else.
The other lady, the Baroness of Hillend, murmured to her, “I’ve been here for most of my marriage because of our lads. You’ll have to tell us how this fare compares to London, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure it is quite scrumptious and needs no compare,” she offered graciously. The thought of them relying on her opinion for anything left Genevieve filled with unease. She was, after all, only human. What if she didn’t like something they did? Or the other way around?
Fortunately, the couples began to converse over their meal and required little input from her thereafter.
This gave Genevieve some time to study the others who ate or wandered about the room. She avoided the gazes of those who looked at her with furrowed brows, surely wondering why a duchess would sit here in all of places. There were so many of them. She felt the room grow warm, and wished she didn’t feel so out of sorts.
