“He speaks the truth,” he said, his voice cool and measured as he shot Kenneth a sidelong glance.
Genevieve ignored his comment as she turned to the Marquess and offered him a wide smile.
“The pleasure is mine, Lord Gaverton,” she responded, clearly flattered by his words.
A possessive glare darkened his eyes. Clearing his throat, he interjected.
“Indeed. Now, if you will excuse us, Gaverton and I have matters to discuss.”
Genevieve’s smile faltered. “Of course,” she replied in a subdued tone. “Perhaps Lord Gaverton would care to join us for dinner?”
Kenneth’s grin widened, and he opened his mouth to accept, but Wilhelm’s sharp glare silenced him. Kenneth turned to look at Genevieve and offered her a slight smile.
“That is very kind of you, Duchess,” he said warmly. “But I must decline. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I do not wish to intrude on your evening.”
Genevieve nodded politely. “Another time, then.”
Kenneth bowed. “Indeed. It was a pleasure meeting you, Duchess.” Turning to Wilhelm, his demeanor shifted. “Ravenshire,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I shall await your invitation.”
“You shall receive it soon,” Wilhelm replied briskly, his gaze lingering on Genevieve.
Kenneth bid them good evening, leaving them standing together in the dimly lit entrance.
“I trust you found the village to your liking?” Wilhelm inquired, his tone neutral.
Genevieve nodded. “It was quite charming,” she said cautiously.
Wilhelm continued to look at her. “And the seamstress?”
Genevieve offered him a faint smile. “She was quite helpful. I believe I found the perfect gown for the ball.”
Wilhelm’s smile widened slightly, a trace of warmth softening his features. “Excellent,” he murmured. “I look forward to seeing you in it.”
He hesitated, his gaze holding hers. “Genevieve,” he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I…” he trailed off.
She waited, hoping for a glimpse of the man behind the aloof facade.
Wilhelm knew she was waiting for a hint or a sign of what he was feeling, but instead, he merely cleared his throat and looked away.
“It is time for dinner,” he announced, his tone once again stiff and formal. “I shall meet you in the dining hall.”
Chapter Eleven
“What is all this?” Genevieve inquired.
She paused in the doorway, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the unexpected scene before her.
The dining hall, which was ordinarily a cavernous expanse of gleaming mahogany, had been completely transformed.
A smaller table, draped in a pristine white tablecloth and adorned with flickering candles and fragrant flowers, occupied the center of the room. The candles cast a warm, inviting glow over the intimate seating arrangement.
Wilhelm took a seat and turned his back to her as he poured a deep crimson wine into a crystal decanter.
He turned back and smiled at her.
“Dinner with my wife,” he announced, his voice a quiet hum that sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.
Genevieve smiled cautiously as a warm glow slowly spread across her chest which eased the apprehension that still lingered in her eyes.
