Page 50 of The Duke's Return
It used to be that she could rely on her sisters or Phoebe to distract her. But the only person she had here tonight was Julian.
She discovered him quickly, only two tables down, surrounded by two widows and their hosts. Her fork was set aside as she watched him talking to the young woman to his right. From what Genevieve had heard, she had married and was widowed within the span of a year, though the name couldn’t be recalled.
When he smiled and said something, the young woman immediately threw back her head, her curls bouncing, and she laughed. The noise startled the table behind her. She paid them no mind as she waved a hand around.
All the while, Julian was smirking.
An absolute hypocrite.
Tonight Genevieve couldn’t bring herself to eat more than a few bites. The two couples didn’t seem to notice, and instead inquired of Southwick to see if the doors would ever open to visitors to tour the house.
And see how often Julian and I are not together? I cannot imagine having to act for more than just our servants as well as guests at the same time. It’s too much. They could come by at any time!
“Not at this time, I’m afraid,” Genevieve thought quickly to say. “My husband is very busy at the moment and, as we believe in being present for all guests, we cannot bear to open the doors at this time. But I do hope for next year. And when we take our leave, we’ll surely allow guests their tours of the house.”
The baroness blinked. “Leave? Goodness me, already?”
She froze. “Oh, I don’t mean… Well, eventually, we shall take our leave. London is where we maintain our normal residence. There are no travel plans at this time, but we won’t be hereforever.” Softening her voice to be apologetic, she offered a small smile in recompense. “I’m only very glad to have this time with all of you.”
“Certainly,” said the other woman in haste. “As are we. We’ll count our blessings tonight, having you at our table. What a pleasure it has been, Your Grace.”
Nodding, she smiled in return. “Thank you. All of you have been so very gracious tonight. I hope to see you again outside of this lovely affair.”
As Genevieve took her leave, she heard one of the men murmur, “What a duchess! Good manners on her.”
Others returned to the ballroom or the cards room or elsewhere. Genevieve moved quietly from room to room, wishing she didn’t feel so overwhelmed about tonight. The garden affair might have had more space but it would have carried nearly the same number of guests.
Balls are always so tense as it is. What am I but a doll on display? I was the perfect doll for my parents when they were new parents, then I was the doll for my mother to trot around all of London when I came out, and now I am the doll for my husband. Wherever he might be.
She decidedly avoided him and it appeared he did the same, for the ballroom was nearly winding down by the time a servant found her exiting the lady’s waiting room.
“His Grace awaits you in the Great Hall,” she murmured with a curtsey.
“Thank you,” Genevieve said and hastily made her way out. She managed to locate Lady Penbury for a quick farewell before making her way to the hall where she located her husband.
He nodded. “Ready to return home, my sweet?”
With a glance at the nearby servants, Genevieve nodded. “Indeed, my dear.”
The endearment caught his attention. He jerked his gaze up to meet hers just as she turned away. But somehow, they still found one another so she could take his arm on the way down to their waiting carriage.
Leaving behind the music and light of the ball, Genevieve slumped once settled in the carriage.
The evening felt like a strange illusion. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin and wished she could find something to say to her husband. It felt like they needed to sort out an issue. But she didn’t have the words, and it seemed neither did he. The carriage ride was silent all the way home.
Am I foolish to think he would say anything?
She pursed her lips as he helped her out of the carriage, his grip a little too tight. But he let go promptly once she was on her feet.
Genevieve bristled. The man had the gall to act like nothing had happened. Thinking back to her conversation with Mr. Kantbury and then the way she had watched him flirting with another young woman made him a complete scoundrel in more ways than one.
Say something!
As much as she wanted to rage at him, she forced a smile on her lips. They walked into their house. Servants helped them remove their traveling layers. Thinking perhaps she find a way to spark conversation, Genevieve raised her hopes up.
We need to talk, Julian. Whatever is between us, we need to make sense of this. Of us. Do you care? Do you care in the way that I think you care, the way that I’m terrified to consider? Or do you not care at all? Am I doll you will set in the closet when you are done with me? Why do you sometimes look at me like that?
“Good evening everyone,” he said and then took off down the hall without another word.
