Page 65 of The Duke's Return
Three carriages rolled up on the hour, filling her parlor at once. Genevieve enacted her hostess duties as she poured tea, asked polite questions, and graciously accepted compliments. It was difficult work as she had to remember every little action she made.
Most of the village appeared within the next couple of hours. Her staff was just as worn out as she was when the last ones finally took their leave, everyone needing a break. Genevieve stopped by the kitchens to thank her staff and to give some of the rest of the day off––the rest could have it tomorrow so long as her husband eventually reappeared.
Mrs. Waverly and Lyle were in the doorway when she made it up the steps to the hall. It made her pause before she resumed walking. Her heart pounded in her chest with concern. Unable to read their expressions, she had to assume they were not terribly concerned as of yet. Otherwise surely someone would be fretting.
Surely they would care a little. So he must be found. He must be.
“Well?” Genevieve asked anxiously.
“The duke has returned,” Mrs. Waverly reassured her with a nod.
Shoulders relaxing, Genevieve let out a long sigh. “Thank goodness. Whatever happened? Surely he didn’t get himself lost. Did his horse throw a shoe?”
Although Lyle glanced at the housekeeper, Mrs. Waverly didn’t flinch. She offered a slight curve of the lips albeit not a complete smile. “All is well. Your head groom met His Grace on his returnto the house not an hour ago. Everyone has since returned here. His Grace can be found in his bed chambers now.”
“Oh. Good. That is… good.” Genevieve let out a heavy breath. She nodded to herself. Though she’d told herself not to worry, it seemed her heart had been more concerned than she expected.
The satisfaction of knowing all was as it should be with her husband was helpful, though Genevieve had no plans of going to see him. The two servants standing before her looked at her expectantly, however, and for a moment she doubted herself.
I thought I was confident once, but when it comes to Julian, now I don’t know anything. He is alive and that’s what matters. Why, I don’t wish to think on it. But now that I am certain, well, I suppose he will see me again if he so desires. I cannot keep chasing him.
Pulling herself together, she nodded. “That will be all. Thank you both so much for informing me.”
And then they finally took their leave.
She sighed. Shaking her head, Genevieve strolled down the hall before returning to the parlor. She straightened up the room and then thought of a few other matters that required her attention. There was always one project or another.
There was the parlor, the south hall’s fading wallpaper, the new draft in the music room, and the attic stairs. Genevieve saw to those matters and assigned work to the servants before checking on the next week’s menu.
She managed to sort out her business even with thoughts of Julian on her mind. All she wished to do was remain upset him. But then came the memory of his eyes on her last night. Theway he gazed at her like she meant something more to him… It was enough to send a shiver down her spine. It was always so temporary, so short, that sometimes she worried it wasn’t even real.
Why do I keep dwelling on this? It’s not as though he shall ever look at me in such a manner again.
Then all of her duties were handled before the afternoon was over. Needing a distraction, Genevieve wrote a letter to Phoebe. It went by more quickly than she might have expected. Resolving on a walk amongst the gardens, she crossed the house to get there for her stroll.
Along the way, she found Julian walking in her direction.
Genevieve parted her lips on instinct to speak with him, but then recalled his behavior the previous evening. Instead, she pressed her lips together. There was nothing kind she could say. She had no need to say anything, then.
Forcing herself to keep walking, she inhaled slowly through her nostrils. Then Julian glanced up. He looked well albeit with circles under his eyes that grew darker the closer they drew.
Did he feel the weighted tension in the air, she wondered, and would he even care if he did?
Genevieve gave him a curt nod since they had met gazes in the hall, but intended nothing more than that. Another conversation could take place at another time. If he wished to disappear from their estate for half a day without a word, then so be it. She didn’t even know where he had been and she was determined not to care. Or at least not to let him know if she cared.
Shifting her gaze beyond him, she tried to imagine what was on his mind as he looked at her. She thought he too would look away. It wasn’t as though he could have come looking for her after all this time.
And yet those pretty blue eyes of his lingered on her just as they met. She took another step––
His hand reached out to brush against her elbow. “Genevieve.”
At once she stumbled and came to a stagger stop. Her heart and feet hardly knew how to move. Inhaling, she asked him, “Yes?”
The man gave nothing away even when he tilted his head to gaze at her. She thought she noted curiosity in the lines of his features, but she couldn’t be certain. Then she forced herself to look away so she wouldn’t miss what he said next.
“Next Wednesday is Lord Winburn’s ball. The invitation came in yesterday, I understand it. Will you attend?”
The calmness of his voice left her confused for a reason she couldn’t particularly place. Hesitating, she tried to remember their calendar. “I’m not certain. I had no plans for the affair.”
