Page 52 of The Duke's Return
I don’t believe Julian would invite a guest without warning me. Would he?
“Julian, privacy?” The man’s lips twitched. “What a notion.”
So he knew her husband. She gave a cautious nod. There was a pause as they looked at one another and she had the feeling he was waiting for her to say something. It seemed her walk was over, she realized, and she took a step back while trying to smile.
“I cannot guarantee my husband is available at this time,” she said at last. “Was your visit expected? What is the purpose of your visit?”
“Ah, I have not said… A thousand apologies, my lady.” The man glanced about before decidedly sliding from the saddle on the other side. He grasped the reins and circled his horse to reach her, offering a slight bow. “Fortunately, my wife Verity is not here to scold me for my behavior. She says I still need a thousand lifetimes to remember not to glare at people.”
Lady Verity—oh, I do know her! And the husband who always hovers.
“Lord Northcott,” Genevieve said as the name came to her, and it was easier to smile then. Relieved she would not have to inquire for his name and make matters awkward, she relaxed. “Worry not, I take no offense. I would be happy to escort you to our home. Have you visited here before?”
“Yes, I have indeed.” He walked at a fair pace beside her without concern. “Several times in my youth, but it must have been some years since.”
She nodded. “How nice that must have been.”
While they walked, he glanced her way. “You have not come here without the duke, have you?”
Though she had no need to answer the question, Genevieve found herself answering, “No, this is my first visit. But I am very much enjoying it.”
“Why not?”
“Why have I not visited? Well, I… I suppose I didn’t wish to come without my husband,” she replied while wondering how much he knew about her marriage. He had been at her wedding, she recalled. He was a friend of Julian’s. But how close, she had no idea.
“I understand he returned in the last month. The duke has been busy, I see. And the first thing he did was bring you all the way out here where you have never visited.”
She paused. “Are you making an accusation?”
“Should I?” His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a long moment.
“I should hope not.”
They resumed walking. Her heartbeat had picked up under this interrogation, wondering what he knew already and what else he might suspect. She wished she knew Julian better. No, she wished he wasn’t here. If he had never come back, then she wouldn’t be trapped like this.
“Your Grace, do you have a residence in the county?”
He gave a short nod. “I am seeking to sell off a cottage of mine, and wished to inspect it one last time. It’s been a tense week and so I thought I might call on you and Southwick for a short time. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Why should I?”
The two of them darted glances at one another, never answering the questions. Already Genevieve worried she had said too much. Soon, they were at the front steps. She went to the door to have a stable boy fetched for the duke’s horse, and then they came inside.
“Allow Mrs. Waverly to take your hat and cloak,” Genevieve invited. “Mrs. Waverly, can you have tea prepared for the gentlemen? Let’s have some of those ham sandwiches, as well, I think they’ll enjoy them.”
“Certainly, Your Grace, very good thinking.”
She nodded her thanks. “And don’t forget about the change of water in the stables. I was talking with them the other day and we had concerns about the troughs needing to be washed with a new soap. Please make sure that is done beforehand.”
Standing back and warming his hands from the cool morning air, Lord Northcott gave an approving nod. “Very thoughtful, my lady.”
“Isn’t she?” Mrs. Waverly said with an approving smile. She gave Genevieve a look. “She’s a very talented duchess, she is. Always thoughtful about the house and already knows every servant by name. Just this morning, I was hearing tell from little Abernathy about her. He fetches the coal, you see, dirty little mite. But on he goes about the duchess and the one time she scrubbed his face clean.”
Genevieve’s face flushed. An incident last week hardly warranted flattery. “Thank you, Mrs. Waverly, but that is enough. Can you please tend to those matters?”
“Certainly! Will there be anything else?”
“No. Oh, only that you should include a few apples on the tray. And the floral knives, not the blossom ones, please,” she added hastily.
