Page 58 of The Duke's Return
He watched as she took a small step back. Collecting the rosebud at their feet, Julian closed the distance between them. She paused as he reached for her hair. As he put the rosebud behindher ear, she could smell him and his cologne. The scent nearly made her knees weak.
Pulling herself together, Genevieve studied Julian’s face. “You’ll be polite to everyone?”
“So polite they will not know what to do with me,” he reassured her.
“And how shall you behave with me?”
“In a way to prove to the world I married the right woman. The only woman. I’ll misbehave just so the world understands that the best thing I did with my life was marry you and every other minute is spent proving I deserve only a minute of your time.”
The short speech caught Genevieve by surprise. It hardly helped how he stared into her eyes like he meant every word.
A second passed and she could have believed it. She could have responded too easily. The man was a brilliant liar. Her heart began to sink. Reminding herself that this was his charm, that they were here to trick everyone about, Genevieve could only smile over his foolish nature.
“Very well.” She forced herself to take another step back, and prepared to keep moving even if she fell into a bush so he couldn’t get any closer. Blaming the cologne on her dizziness, she took a deep breath. “Two hours, then.”
Genevieve didn’t know what else she could do. Feeling light-headed over that intense gaze of his, she walked back to the estate on her own. Off to her bed chamber she went in order to prepare for the evening’s affair.
It wasn’t long before she was letting Julian take her hand to assist her out of the carriage.
The duke huffed in her ear once she was on the ground. “Is the entire county here this evening?”
“Most likely,” she responded automatically. “Did you not read the invitation or listen to Lady Penbury? Mr. Wilson is an absurdly wealthy American. A single, elderly fellow, who believes greatly in charity. He lost his wife last year, unfortunately, and now he’s giving away his money in waves as she apparently asked of him. He hosts these affairs with society matrons regularly to invite others to share in his giving.”
Julian nodded. He clasped his hand over hers that was already seated neatly on his arm, an intimate and warming gesture. Trying not to think about the blush creeping up her cheeks, she listened as he asked, “Did you bring your pin money?”
“And yours.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. She could see it in his eyes. They had reached the grand entry with at least twenty people glancing their way. It was why they were here in the first place, Genevieve told herself. The performance.
Turning to face him completely, she smiled as sweetly as possible. “You wouldn’t say no to your perfect little wife, would you?”
“I wouldn’t dare.” He swept a gentle finger across her chin, a touch so light and feathery that it caught her breath.
Making their way through the receiving line with their host and the five women, including Lady Penbury, as hostesses for the evening was more difficult than she could have predicted. Her heartbeat was still pounding hard against her ribs. The way she and Julian clung to one another was on the edge of propriety and it was as lovely and painful as she might have expected.
Everyone gathered in a grand drawing room where seats were set up in a strange mix. With so few of the people seated at the moment, Julian suggested they mingle.
“We should start with your closest neighbors. Perhaps we can invite them to tea within the next week so they can see us in our own home together,” she said as they slowly walked around the room.
Julian paused. He turned to her with a thoughtful expression.
When he said nothing, she hesitated. Genevieve shifted and started to pull away. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Only you are quite remarkable,” he answered slowly. He paused to tug her closest curl away from her cheek almost like he cared to see her face. The man studied her features long enough to make her wonder if he liked what he saw. “You could be on the stage.”
The latter comment quickly deflated any soft thoughts of hers. She started to frown but caught herself in time. “You’re too sweet.”
Julian smirked. “I am, aren’t I?” He leaned in close enough that she felt his breath warming her cheek. “They’re looking. You’re a wonder at this, truly.”
His compliment struck her like a painful set of claws sinking into her chest. Somehow, Genevieve smiled through it.
We’re only acting. He’s only acting. All I have to do is act. None of this matters. The looks he gives me, none of them mean a thing to him. But how do I tell this to my heart?
The two of them made their way around the room, talking and laughing and posing and exchanging invitations. Her cheeksached from smiling. But she couldn’t stop. Julian kept watching her. Everyone was watching her, and she didn’t know what to do besides smile.
“Thank you all for attending tonight’s soiree,” Mr. Wilson when everyone finally began to take their seats.
To her misfortune, Julian sat her towards the front and off to the side where everyone could watch them. He scooted close enough that their arms and legs brushed against one another while their host spoke and the five hostesses prepared the makeshift theater space.
