Page 57 of The Duke's Return
Inhaling sharply, she gathered her rage, set aside thoughts of the handsome man, and stormed forward.
“Julian.”
He nearly dropped the rosebud. Fumbling for it, her husband blinked and hastily rose to his feet as she arrived before him. “Genevieve.”
She wished she had never given him leave to use her name. Or had she? Perhaps he decided to claim it like he claimed everything else.
“How dare you?” Genevieve said and batted away the rosebud from his grasp even as she internally murmured it an apology. “The way you treated me in front of Lord Northcott today was entirely unwarranted, cruel even, and hardly fitting behavior for a duke.”
Apprehension crossed over the man, tightening his features. She watched him swallow as the movement disappeared behind his neatly tied cravat. The gem was new. He must have added that later. But it was crooked. Her hands itched to fix it, but she merely glared instead with her chin raised.
“You entered my study––” he drew out slowly.
“To be of assistance and to have your ear on a matter that would have taken not a minute of your terribly valuable time,” she snapped, not willing to amuse him. Straightening up, she went on. “You can treat me as coldly as you like when the mood strikes. I do not care. But your lack of manners and harsh dismissal were hardly fitting behaviors for a gentleman.”
A heavy sigh escaped him.
Still, Genevieve carried on. Her hands balled into fists as she glowered, “Mind you, this is the least of our concerns. I’ve tolerated awful manners across all of England with you. You flirt and charm your way across the ballroom, and I say nothing. This is a farce of a marriage, we both know it, and I don’t care what you do in your own time.”
“You don’t?”
“But I will. Not. Be. Humiliated,” she announced.
His face tightened again from his open gaze and he glanced away. Was that guilt in his eyes? Genevieve hesitated as she tookin a deep breath, waiting for him to argue or attempt to flirt his way out of this. But he didn’t.
Perhaps he does know he made a mistake. Or is he merely pretending?
“I did nothing to deserve that behavior and a wife should never be treated as foully as you did me,” she added in a low tone. “You treated me like I was the scum of your shoe, Julian. It isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not.”
She heatedly added, “I mean it, I won’t let you do it again. I don’t care if I have to claw your face or break your porcelain to make you hear me.”
“I do hear you.”
“Because I will not––what did you say?” Genevieve came to an halting stop, rocking on her heels. She blinked at the duke who had dropped his head low enough that the curls hid much of his expression. An uncertain feeling washed over her as she wondered if he was mocking her.
Except Julian lifted his chin—not entirely, but enough to meet her gaze––and she didn’t see laughter there for once.
His lips pursed tightly. He looked at her for a long minute and then glanced away, almost turning his body like he wished to take his leave of her. Though she braced herself for him to walk away, it didn’t happen. Julian let out a heavy breath that ruffled her hair, which made it tickle her cheeks.
“You’re right, Genevieve,” Julian said quietly a moment later, with what could only be described as a contrite expression. “My behavior was abominable. You had done nothing to warrantsuch behavior from me; I shall endeavor to improve upon myself better humors.”
Warily glancing around, Genevieve wondered if someone was close by with whom her husband wanted to have heard this message. Only he whispered the words in a low tone and there was no one about. She was surely the only one to hear these words.
“I apologize dearly for my behavior, my dear.” He paused and then brought out a letter from his pocket. It was the invitation for the charity soiree. “You wished to talk about this, I believe, and I should like to make it up to you.”
“Do you really?” She felt compelled to ask.
“The carriages will be brought around in two hours’ time for us. I would be thrilled if you would permit me to escort you to the event this evening, where you may use all the money you like for whatever charity this might be for,” he announced. By the time he finished speaking, there was half a smile on her lips.
There’s Julian. I might hardly know him if there is no smile. How strange. And how much better it feels when he smiles my way.
She bit her lip. “You will behave yourself?”
“I shall behave in the most important way and misbehave in the best way,” Julian said after a pause. “Would that suffice?”
“It depends on what you mean about misbehaving.”
