Page 54 of The Duke's Return
But then he replayed the last couple of dances in his mind. Wincing, Julian slouched back down into his chair in the study. It was a worn leather seat that hadn’t been upholstered since the day he accepted the dukedom. The papers had been signed while he was standing; unwilling to use his father’s chair, Julian had found this one in the attic and brought it down. The chair had served him well. Comfortable and familiar with him.
Just like the partially-empty decanter on his desk.
“Ah.” Tristan finally gave it attention like he had just noticed it, though Julian found that highly unlikely. His friend lifted his glass before taking a small sip. “Very well. A morning drink it is.”
“You can’t judge me if you join me,” Julian countered in the mildest tone he could manage.
Tristan’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. It wasn’t judgement. It was something else. Almost like amusement? That couldn’t be right. Julian took a drink to distract himself. There wasn’t a chance in the world that Tristan could be humored because the man didn’t have a sense of humor.
As he thought this through, he drained the rest of his brandy.
Before him, Tristan huffed and took the decanter out of reach. Not to drink, only to hold it back. “Perhaps we’ll save the rest for later?” He inquired with a certain level of thoughtfulness.
“You mean for afternoon tea?” Julian glanced down at his pocketwatch. “There’s no need to put it away since we always have that early.”
His friend’s lips quirked up. “Liar.”
“This cannot be why you came all this way.” Setting down his glass, he fixed his collar to ensure it sat flat. “What is it? Is Verity well?”
As he had expected, Tristan gave an honest smile. If Julian thought it actually possible, he would say his friend’s eyes shone. “She is very well, thank you. And you? How is your marriage?”
I walked right into that one.
Perhaps Julian should have known. Had he not done this to Tristan when the man was getting married? Caught up in the middle of family business, he had still gone out of his way to attend the wedding, question the bride, and ensure all was well.
While Tristan had needed a few nudges along the way, it had all worked out for them. However, this was different.
Not all of them ever expected to marry. Lords were expected to carry on the line, of course. But Julian had plenty of family. There was no one for Tristan. Hardly anyone of their other friends as well, so there was that responsibility. Sebastian didn’t plan to marry since he didn’t want to continue the line, however. As for Julian… he had no need. He had plenty of family.
Still, he offered a dry smile and told Tristan, “Everything is as expected. A convenient arrangement.”
“Oh?”
“A polite farce for everyone but us,” Julian added. “Nothing more. I’ll be out of the way soon enough.”
Tristan lifted his chin. “Are you in the way now?”
“How could I not be?” Julian countered, though there wasn’t a chance that Tristan could know. He wasn’t certain that his wife and friend had ever spoken before beyond their conversation in the hall. Why the two of them had carried on, however, he didn’t know. Didn’t understand. Didn’t want to care. “My entire life I am in the way of another. My parents, my family, everyone.”
“Not your friends.”
With a short laugh, he waved off the matter. “Only because I tricked you lot into befriending me and now I won’t let you all alone. No, truly, Tristan,” Julian went on when the man looked ready to protest. He smiled all the while as he said, “I am here for a reason. You must know this: to save the family name. To save the title. Our friends know it, I know it, and she knows it. This is all she wants from me.”
Tristan frowned. “Did you ask her that?”
“I don’t have to. She’s clear enough to understand. We’ll salvage the family name, restore my reputation, and then I shall vanish all over again. The two of us are naught but strangers.”
Slowly nodding but with a disbelieving expression, his friend considered his words. Fingers thrummed heavily on the arms of the chair. Then Tristan asked him, “What if she understands you as well as you understand her?”
“What?”
“You said she’s transparent, in her own way,” Tristan pointed out.
Julian frowned. He glanced at his empty glass. And then he considered that yes, Genevieve was rather easy to understand after he gave it some time. She was still mysterious in some ways that left him curious and wondering, to be sure, but he had seen her strength as well as her vulnerability.
How can I live in the same house as she and not know her? I would have to forget her midnight runs to the kitchen, how she likes her feet bare when she’s on her own, and the rare treat of her laughter. I would have to forget how she wears dark blue like a second skin, a color created just for her.
But he didn’t say any of that.
