Page 68 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
Genevieve’s lips curled into a wry smile. “Ah, yes,” she drawled. “The rumors.”
“But it is noteworthy,” the woman continued, her sincere gaze meeting Genevieve’s, “I find myself quite charmed by your presence. You are not at all what I expected.”
Genevieve’s heart swelled at her words. “Thank you, Madam,” she murmured.
“And I must apologize for my husband’s behavior,” the woman added, furrowing her brow in disapproval. “He can be quite disagreeable at times.”
Genevieve’s lips twitched. “I assure you, Madam, I have encountered my fair share of disagreeable gentlemen,” she replied, amusement lacing her voice.
The woman’s smile widened, her eyes twinkling with understanding.
“I am glad to hear it, Your Grace,” she said, her voice warm and genuine. “And I do hope that you will not let the whispers of the Ton deter you from enjoying your time in London.”
For the first time since her arrival in London that evening, Genevieve felt a glimmer of acceptance—a sense of belonging that had eluded her, despite her efforts.
The isolation that had hung over her like a heavy veil seemed to lift, and for a fleeting moment, she did not feel like an outsider.
Her heart swelled with gratitude, her gaze meeting the woman’s with newfound confidence.
“I shall not,” she declared, her voice firm and resolute.
The woman’s smile widened, her eyes filled with admiration. “Well said, Your Grace,” she remarked with approval.
Just as Genevieve was about to respond, a figure emerged from the crowd, approaching her hesitantly.
“Genevieve,” Alfred greeted. “Might I have a word?”
Her gaze hardened as she met his. “Lord Shelton,” she acknowledged, her voice cool and distant as he gripped Genevieve’s arm softly.
“Might I have a word?” Alfred repeated, his grip tightening on her arm as his gaze burned into hers.
Genevieve yanked her arm back. “I do not believe that would be appropriate, Lord Shelton,” she said, pursing her lips.
He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I have matters of importance to discuss with you—matters you will find quite interesting, Your Grace.”
Genevieve shrugged nonchalantly, then turned to the lady, nodding her head. “If you will pardon me, My Lady.”
She followed Lord Shelton to a quieter corner of the room.
“What is it that you want, Alfred?” she snapped.
Alfred furrowed his brow, his expression both concern and apprehension. “I understand if you are displeased with me,” he began, his voice laced with regret. “But I had no intention of causing you any distress.”
Genevieve looked at him with unfettered disdain. “No intention of causing me distress?”
Alfred’s cheeks flushed, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I… I was a coward,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “In the past, I mean. I was afraid of being associated with the rumors.”
Genevieve’s gaze softened slightly, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “I understand,” she murmured. “But it does not excuse your actions.”
Alfred nodded, his expression filled with remorse. “I know,” he agreed, his voice heavy with regret. “And I am truly sorry, Genevieve.” He paused, his gaze searching hers. “I wanted to askhow you are faring,” he continued, his voice laced with concern. “How are you managing with… with Ravenshire?”
Genevieve furrowed her brow, her gaze hardening once more. “I do not believe that is any of your concern, Lord Shelton,” she retorted.
Alfred’s lips tightened, his gaze darting away momentarily. “I understand,” he murmured. “But I… I still care for you, Genevieve. And I want to ensure that you aresafe.”
Genevieve scoffed, her eyes blazing with contempt. “Safe?” she repeated scornfully. “Why would I not be safe?”
“I am only saying that you should be careful,” he replied, his eyes filled with fake concern. “Ravenshire is not the man you think he is.”
