Page 79 of The Duke's Return
Genevieve froze.
So we are leaving. He should have told me. Oh there is much to do. I’ll need to alert everyone about the invitations that need to be canceled, tell the vicar I cannot visit him on the morrow. I haven’t even begun to pack. And Elodie wanted more time to explore the village which I haven’t given her. Why couldn’t he tell me sooner?
Nodding, the butler tucked his little booklet away as he often liked to take notes. “Certainly, Your Grace. And the duchess will follow behind?”
That made her pause.
“At her leisure, of course. I believe she wishes to enjoy some more time out here before joining me in London. She will be able to take the other carriage as needed.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
On the directions went as Julian instructed the butler, and then a footman, about what needed to be done. He apparently wished to have everything taken. Everything except for her and his horse. The creature deserved more space to enjoy, he claimed.
Because you’re not going to be there in London long, are you?
A shaky breath escaped Genevieve. She clapped a hand over her mouth and resisted yet again the urge to cry. The man didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve anything for the way he so quickly brushed her off.
It was the ease of it, I think, that hurt the most. How can he just walk away and pretend all is well? He cannot even talk to me, cannot look me in the eye. I invited him for a peaceable super last night and he never gave a response––only told the staff he would take a tray.
How nauseating this was, Genevieve thought to herself, that the man refused to face her. He really was a coward. She had hoped that he could be more than his past self, but he was determined to be his worst form.
I cannot take it. I won’t let him slip away without… without saying something!
When Julian finally stepped away from the servants and started off to his bed chamber, she hastily followed behind. She took through the halls quietly as she padded after him in her slippers. It was only once they were in the hall by their rooms, where no one else lingered, that she called out.
“Julian!”
He jerked, wavered, and then whirled around.
The man was leaving her yet again. They had done this before, Genevieve considered, but they had been complete strangers at the time. Nothing had ever happened between them. There had only been one conversation between them.
This was entirely different. He was running away from her, and she wouldn’t let him do it without seeing her one last time.
She stalked forward with her shoulders back and her chin held up high. There would be no crying in front of him, never letting him know how much he had already hurt her.
If he wants to put up walls, then I can do the same.
“How dare you?” she snarled as she came up to him.
“Hush,” he said in reply with a quick glance around them. “The household––”
“Is not close enough to hear us speak,” she hissed. She kept her voice low but clear enough he could hear her. Seething, Genevieve did her best to retain her calm. “I see what you are doing. And yet I can hardly believe it of you.”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary.”
“Of course you aren’t. This is what you do. You came back to London. You played your part––the part everyone wanted to see. You salvaged your name. You brokered your deals. And now you’ll disappear again, won’t you? Always pretending that everything is as it should be.”
He gritted his teeth. “Isn’t it?”
“Is it?” she challenged him back. “Is it really? You’ll take off and pretend none of this happened. That we never happened. That we never meant anything at all.”
Those beautiful blue eyes froze over so quickly she felt a shiver run up her spine. She remembered then how she had hated him before. How she wanted to hate him now.
Julian said, “You’re cleverer than this, Duchess. We made a deal.”
He wouldn’t say her name, she realized suddenly, and felt a loss that created such emptiness in her so quickly that she felt her body shrinking. Her shoulders slouched. She swallowed hard and tried to pull herself together. She tried to remember rage.
“Things change,” Genevieve told him. “They can change. If only you will stop being a coward and––”
