Page 82 of The Duke's Return
“This is a gentlemen’s club, is it not?” Julian said mildly before taking a sip.
He shifted in his chair. This was usually his favorite seat in the house. His favorite bottle, too. Except the brandy was too bitter and the seat was uncomfortable. Nothing was right of late. He’d returned to London only days ago––he had another week before he intended to ship back out––but it bothered him how much he couldn’t stand this place any longer.
First Southwick and now London. There is no peace for me anywhere in this world.
“Julian?”
He jerked to look at Sebastian. “Hmm? What is it?”
His friend raised an eyebrow. “I should be asking you the same thing. I just recounted the last year to you about the home fororphans I helped to fund, and you said nothing. Looks like you didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?”
“Oh. No, I suppose not.”
“Then what is it?”
Frowning, he asked, “What do you mean?”
The man leaned forward to whisper, “What is wrong with you? I’ve never seen you out of sorts.”
“Then how would you know this is what it means for me to be out of sorts?” he countered.
“Because I’m not an idiot, that’s why.” Sebastian sat back in his seat. He studied Julian for a long moment before standing up and closing the door in the side study where they sat. Julian should have done that an hour ago to have himself some peace. “Tristan wrote to us, you know. About all that happened in Southwick. Did you find your wife was more than just a signature on a marriage certificate?”
That made Julian scowl. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“She’s not living with you. I heard you came to London separately. But by all accounts, still, the two of you are madly in love. So, our little actor, did you practice so well something became real?”
Flinching, he shook his head. “You’re making things up. We acted as we needed to. And love isn’t real. Especially in a marriage, you fool. Not that you would know; you’re still a happy bachelor.”
“And you were a miserable bachelor,” countered Sebastian.
The very notion made Julian burst out laughing. “What the devil do you say? I was an utter rake, happy and witty. No restraints, no baggage, none of that nonsense. I was meant to be a bachelor. I wasn’t miserable a single day.”
“You were. Only you named the misery something else, that’s all,” Sebastian said as he settled back in his chair. He shifted about though the furniture was hardly a proper size for him. “You did and said what everyone wanted. Even in university. Not everyone noticed it, of course. You do it so well. You grew up into it, I suppose. But I don’t think it made you happy and I think you’re beginning to realize it, aren’t you?”
“I’m not miserable,” he growled.
Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian asked, “Do you know what misery is?”
“Of course I do!” With a scoff, Julian shook his head and waved around. “I was miserable growing up with my mother and father. They never listened to a word I said. All I ever was to them was a toy soldier, a pawn, until they wanted to set me back on the shelf. Then my family pretended to listen once my parents were gone. I thought I was happy. But I kept giving and giving and they never had anything more for me. It haunted me for years, giving and never taking. So I took when I was of age, so everything is as I want. I can take as I want now,” Julian repeated stubbornly.
“And you think that taking from what, everyone, is what makes you happy? You’re obviously not at peace,” Sebastian reasoned.
Something about his words reminded Julian of his father long before the man passed away. When Julian was just a lad, eager to go fishing on a hot summer day, the prior duke had scolded him.
“It isn’t for a duke to behave so childishly. Wipe that hideous smirk off your face. If you cannot compose yourself, I won’t have anything to do with you and neither will the fish.”
And he remembered something else from his mother in the years shortly before she took her leave of him––
“I wish you tried harder, dear. You could be so much better. So much different. Instead, all I see in you is your father. It’s rather awful.”
Too much and too little, never enough and never right. Why is it I can’t be what anyone wants? What anyone needs? All anyone wants of me is the title. The charm. Everyone only cares about the limited parts of me. Everyone except…
Letting out a shaky breath, Julian closed his eyes.
He let the past roll over him. As he tried to ignore the panic welling up inside his chest, trying to fight down the hope, he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. Everyone needed something from the title. No one needed anything from him.
The Royal Navy, of course, would take him back. That was all he wanted to focus on now.
