Page 33 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
The tension in the room dissipated like mist in the morning sun as a comfortable camaraderie enveloped them.
Genevieve, her heart lighter than it had been in years, finally picked up her fork and began to eat, and immersed her senses in the succulent slices of roast pheasant, potatoes, and sautéed wild mushrooms.
After several delicious mouthfuls, she decided to break the silence.
“Your Grace,” she asked, “would you indulge me in a game?”
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “A game, Duchess?” he said in a playful tone. “What sort of game do you have in mind?”
Genevieve’s lips curled into an impish smile. “A game of questions,” she explained. “It seems unjust that you know so much about my life, while I remain in the dark about yours.”
Wilhelm chuckled. “An interview, then,” he corrected, his tone teasing. “Not a game.”
“Perhaps,” Genevieve conceded, her smile widening. “But with a small twist.”
“A twist?” he inquired as he leaned towards her with undisguised curiosity.
“Yes,” Genevieve confirmed, her eyes glinting with mischief. “If one of us does not wish to answer a question, we owe the other a favor.”
“And what sort of favor might that be?”
Genevieve shrugged, her smile widening. “That is for the recipient to decide,” she replied, her voice playful as she raised both eyebrows at him. “The favor remains a mystery until it is claimed.”
Amusement danced in Wilhelm’s eyes as he considered her proposition.
“Very well,” he finally agreed, nodding sharply. “I accept your challenge, Duchess. But you should be aware that I am not someone who is easily bested.”
Genevieve’s smile widened. “Nor am I, Your Grace,” she retorted with playful defiance.
Wilhelm inclined his head in a gesture of acceptance. “Ladies first?”
Genevieve giggled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she took a deep breath.
“Why did you marry me?” she asked, her voice steady and clear.
Wilhelm’s lips curled into a subtle smile. “I should have expected that to be your first question,” he snorted.
Genevieve raised an eyebrow, her expression challenging. “Do you have an answer, Your Grace?” she prompted. “Or would you rather owe me a favor?”
Wilhelm smirked, biting his lower lip as he briefly looked away.
“Indeed, I do,” he confirmed, his gaze returning to hers. “First, I needed a wife. An heir is essential to securing the Ravenshire legacy.”
Genevieve nodded, her expression thoughtful. “And second?” she prompted, her curiosity piqued.
“The truth is that you see this world for what it truly is, Genevieve.” He met her eyes, his expression serious. “Youare not blinded by the gilded trappings of the Ton—their shallowness, the hypocrisy… I could never marry a woman who is easily influenced by Society. You see things clearly. You seemeclearly.” He paused as a crooked smile formed on his lips. “Well, for the most part.”
Genevieve’s heart melted, a warmth spreading through her chest at his words. She had never considered that her experiences, the pain and discrimination she had endured, would be seen as a strength.
“Besides,” he added, his emerald-green eyes flashing in the candlelight, “I rather enjoy the fact that they are all terrified of you.”
Genevieve’s smile faltered. “I am not cursed,” she snapped.
Wilhelm chuckled, his gaze softening. “I never said you were,” he assured her, his voice gentle. “But there is a certain power in being feared.”
Genevieve scoffed, staring straight at him. “I am certain that you know all about being feared.”
Wilhelm raised an eyebrow, shaking his head with an amused expression. “What does that mean?”
