Page 72 of The Duke's Return
And the endless requests for bills paid.
“Nephew! Oh, I have missed you, you naughty thing,” she said. “There is no need for you to talk to me like that. Do take a seat. Perhaps you can talk some sense into your little duchess.”
Seeing the way his wife bristled, Julian moved to stand at her side. He put a hand protectively around her back with a short nod.
Then he turned back to his aunt. “I believe my wife makes perfect sense, though I can understand you may not appreciate it. Life isn’t always pleasant. I have done my best to please you as well as the rest of our giant family, and yet it’s never enough.”
Switching her gaze from Genevieve to him, Elizabeth grumbled. “I hardly ask for anything, you know that. You know me.”
His wife scoffed before naming a number that made him jerk. They both looked at her. With a pointed look, Genevieve said, “That is how much you have asked for since the day Julian took on the title. I’ve checked it over and over. I have the numbers for the entire Ashcombe family and beyond.”
“That’s preposterous!” blustered his aunt.
With a raised eyebrow, he asked, “Did I hear you call my wife a liar?”
“No, no. She is simply… incorrect.”
“Impossible.” Julian put on a smile. “This is her house. She knows the numbers. I have no reason to doubt her as she has managed well in my absence. Elizabeth, my sweet, you have been blessed with pin money that puts half the ton to shame. You’ll come into some more next month as always, and I think you can learn some patience. Because I’m afraid I can’t help you. I meant everything I said in the letter. And with that, you shouldknow that you’re not welcome in these doors if that’s how you’re going to treat my wife.”
His aunt had not been denied before. The shock that spread across her face was honest and clearly bewildering to her. Part of Julian pitied her, but it could not be helped.
“But… But you can’t do that. What about my horse?”
“You’re clever. You’ll sort something out.”
“I deserve better than this, Nephew!”
He stiffened. “It’s Lord Ashcombe, or Southwick. And this is Her Grace. Because it is she who deserves better. Our housekeeper will see you out. My dear?”
Equally silent, Genevieve gave a jerky nod. She led the way out of the room, and he was right on her heel to keep the women apart. Once they were out the door, he gave their housekeeper a nod before steering his wife further out of the way and around the corner.
“That was… I didn’t mean to be rude,” Genevieve blurted, her chest heaving. Away she walked though she talked to him. Whatever discussion they must have had was heated. He thought about asking, but decided against it. “But she was… How rude she was!”
He gave a nod. “Yes, unfortunately.”
“I didn’t think…” Then she turned around. There was a blush on her cheeks that looked quite lovely. She stepped forward and closed the distance between them. There was a thoughtfulness to her gaze as she studied him. “Was that all right?”
Julian had managed the situation well enough, so he thought, but now he didn’t know what to think. The lovely blush and those sweet lips. The fire in her eyes. She had wanted to help him, to protect him. He wondered how he was supposed to tell her that this was his responsibility.
“Genevieve…” But he swallowed his tongue.
All Julian could do was give her a short nod, and then took off down the hall. He left her behind. But the scent of her perfume followed behind him so he couldn’t forget her for even a second.
CHAPTER 28
Afew days passed in a blur that kept Genevieve on her toes, especially when it came to Julian.
Sometimes he was around and sometimes he was not. Every time he seemed to hesitate. They spoke of normal matters. Correspondence, the weather, and the food on the occasions they enjoyed a meal together.
The conversation was always terribly mild, so mild she could never remember what was said. Only that it didn’t matter. That it was hardly real.
What we said that night in the library. That was real. All of it was real.
Even as Genevieve knew this in her heart, she didn’t know how to approach Julian about his past or their marriage or the future. It was worse than before, she thought to herself, when she was certain he didn’t care a wit for her. Now, she was convinced he did, but couldn’t decide if he knew that he cared. And if he would do anything about it.
“Well, well, well. The duchess arrives,” Julian murmured a few nights later as they prepared to attend another ball.
It could very well be our last ball.
