Page 67 of The Duke's Return
I don’t think I realized just how important the distance between us was, keeping us apart. She was just another young lady, just pretty and smart and blue-blooded enough to fit the bill forwhat I needed at the time. A necessary name on legal paper. But the distance between us is gone no matter what I try to do.
It was as though he couldn’t keep her away. Even when Genevieve pulled from him, he couldn’t keep his distance. Not for long.
Being a soldier meant following orders and helping people more than actually fighting or causing harm. A man relied on his battalion. But there was a heart to it that he had never understood.
The heartfelt closeness had opened something in him that he had put away for a long time, since his family had made him want to close it. His return had kept it open, he worried. Enough that part of him was still open when he saw Genevieve again. He listened, he watched, and he understood. And now it was tearing him to bits.
“Life was easier when I cared less for everyone,” Julian told the fire. He groaned as he climbed up to rake the coals and put it out. “I wish it were as easy to light and then put out. How does one do it, really?”
He tried thinking about those he had cared about before. The women in his life and so on. But it didn’t seem as though he had really cared about any of them, not in a way that hurt.
The night was going nowhere. So Julian put out the flames, retired his glass to where it belonged, and decided it was best to take to his bedchamber. Around the corner he went, and paused when he looked up the stairs.
Light flickered through a door cracked open. The library, he noted, had to be hosting someone. Or someone had left a fire crackling alone.
Julian climbed the stairs quietly to investigate it for himself. His curiosity had a way of keeping him awake and he wasn’t exactly interested in sleeping. So he made it to the door, pausing as he carefully nudged it open enough to find a familiar figure.
The fireplace was as large as him in the far-left corner of the room. Though the shelves blocked a partial view of the chaise in front of the fires, there was a head that appeared just over the backing.
I should leave her be.
His feet ignored such thoughts, guiding him into the room before he knew what to say. He meant to open his mouth and say something aloud. But then his boot crossed over a creaking plank beneath the rug and did the job for him.
“Oh!” Genevieve clutched something to her chest and turned. “Julian.”
He swallowed. Found out, he forced himself to come around where he might properly face her and see her features not cast in shadow. There she sat with a book in her arms, a guileless look on her face and bare feet.
Always the bare feet. Does she not grow cold? Perhaps she doesn’t have slippers.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. I only wished to be certain the library was not on fire,” he said after a moment’s pause.
She tilted her head. Setting the book down on her legs, Genevieve peered at him. “Our household is much too wise to let that happen. We were just talking this morning about more protections to consider. It’s expected to be a dry season.”
“So I have heard.”
“Very well.”
There was another pause. Not quite awkward, but… Julian shifted. He didn’t want to come any closer and yet he couldn’t quite catch the scent of her. For some reason, he was missing her perfume.
He sought a distraction. Using a teasing tone, he said to her, “I didn’t know you were the sort to also haunt libraries after midnight.”
It wasn’t enough to earn him a laugh, but he caught a ghost of a smile from Genevieve. “Perhaps my stomach isn’t always hungry, but my mind. I’m afraid I couldn’t sleep.” Her fingers drummed against the hardback book. “I found this one and thought I would see what treasures this library keeps.”
“Oh?” Stepping forward, Julian wondered what it was she read.
She helped by tilting the cover more in his direction. All he needed was a glance. His heart skipped a beat as his lips softened into an honest smile. The blue-green leather cover was faded around the edges from frequent reading and helpful cleanings.
“What a treasure you found. That was my favorite book as a boy,” he admitted. He was surprised by himself for speaking. When he started, he couldn’t stop. “I used to dream of being the sailor in that tale. The mythical seas sounded so wondrous. I wanted to escape the storms at home into something…”
“Something?” she prompted.
Trailing off, he let his gaze glance around the room. The thought of meeting her gaze felt like too much. There was a pounding in his chest that he supposed had to be his heart, though it wasn’t supposed to be so loud. So hard. So annoying.
“Julian? What storms do you mean?” she asked him as she set the book aside.
I should go.
Then Genevieve shifted so her feet slipped down to the rug and there was room on the chaise for him. The space was open, meant for him to take his place at her side. His body was drawn there. Moving without thinking, he began to close the distance between them.
