Page 75 of The Duke's Return
“Fortunate,” Julian echoed. “A fair word.”
Her head tilted the other way as she asked him, “Fair enough that you agree, or you have another one in mind?”
Fortunate often implied luck, which was not a word he would pick now. But still, this evening he did feel fortunate. That was not a feeling he was used to acknowledging.
After all, a duke didn’t need luck. He had been raised with the understanding that the world and its inhabitants answered to him. It helped that his country seat was in a beautiful part of the country and his ancestors continued to make sound investments so he didn’t think he would ever have to worry about funds.
I don’t really need to worry about anything. Not all of the titled can afford not to worry, but the wealthy certainly can. I’ve heard the gossip that my dukedom occasionally manages more than the royal family. But all these years I have taken advantage of that. So why is it now there is a bitterness welling up within me?
Julian didn’t want to think about that, not now, not with Genevieve shining like silver moonlight amongst the ton.
His heart stuttered when she glanced his way. Those pretty pink lips of hers curled up, and he suddenly remembered every opportunity he’d had for a kiss only to have walked away. An ache settled in his chest when he considered all of the space between them and how he wanted to be closer.
“Fortunate is a very good word, I believe,” Julian finally responded to Lady Elena. “All one has to do is look at my Genevieve to know this.”
“I hope there is every happiness set for the two of you.”
How much happiness? More than what can fit in these two hands? I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I know fun more than happiness, satisfaction more than joy.
Julian drained his cup as a servant with a tray walked by so he could set it aside. “Thank you, Lady Elena, and I wish you find all the happiness you seek as well,” he told her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be nearer my wife now.”
“Certainly. Perhaps I will speak with her later.”
“You’re always welcome at Southwick,” he called over his shoulder while moving toward his wife. He couldn’t tell if Lady Elena said anything more, too distracted to pay much mind to anyone else. If she ever came to visit, he could make certain to offer his apologies.
Genevieve watched him approach. Her lips curled into a smile. “Here we are, the duke joins us. At last we might have an expert opinion.”
At once he nodded. “I am an expert in all things, my dear, and I am happy to assist. What is the topic at hand?”
“Strolls.”
“They exist, yes,” he said with a lazy grin. “I have heard of them. I’ve even dared enjoy one in the past. Very pleasant things, strolls.”
Polite laughter followed the jest but he focused on the easy roll of the eyes by Genevieve. Even then she smiled with a light shake of her head.
“You distract us,” she exclaimed just as he noticed her empty drink. Taking it from her as she spoke, Julian beckoned a servant to take it away from them. “The four of us cannot decide the best time to enjoy a stroll. Mornings or afternoons.”
“No evenings?” Free of the glass, he fixed his cuffs while studying his wife. “A moment at twilight surely is beautiful. So silver and blue.”
The lady to his right, who happened to be Lady Kettering, twittered while Genevieve blushed. As she looked at him, she seemed to tell him to behave himself. That only garnered a wider smile, however, as he stepped a little closer, so no one stood between them.
“I must say,” the elderly gentleman to his left, “mornings are too early. One should never suffer the mornings. It is best to be awake with healthy digestion if one insists on walking out of doors. It is not seemly otherwise.”
“And yet the early hour is what makes it so splendid,” Genevieve countered. “Especially out here in the countryside. There is the fresh air, the morning sun, and the birds that sing to you with every step.”
Hesitating, Lady Kettering shook her head. “It’s a frightful hour, I’m afraid.”
“Absolutely terrifying,” Julian agreed. With one glance he could see the strain in Genevieve’s face. For all the pleasure of wit and conversation, it wasn’t easy when everyone disagreed. Not when one wished to fit in with everyone. His heart went out to her and he told the group, “Much too terrifying for everyone here, it would seem, so the duchess and I will surely continue to enjoy the mornings ourselves.”
“Oh, it is so difficult to disagree with the two of you,” the lady admitted to them as her expression softened. “What a pleasure it has been to have you both here. I don’t know how long you intend to reside in the countryside, but we should love to haveyour refreshing opinions always. London doesn’t deserve the two of you.”
With a nod, he chuckled. “Indeed, and what an absolute thrill it has been to have all of you for company. I do enjoy a good quaint opinion. Speaking of my wife, however, I should like to take her for a turn about the room. Or perhaps the house. If you’ll amuse us?”
Everyone made space for them. Wrapping a hand around her waist, he thanked their party before nudging Genevieve along.
A quiet sigh escaped her once they were out of hearing. “Thank you. I like all of them, but…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured her. “These are much busier affairs than I’m sure you typically enjoy.”
