Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

“Wilhelm,” Genevieve began, her voice soft and warm, breaking the tranquil hush of the breakfast room.

She leaned towards him, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“I was thinking, if you are willing, we could invite Marianne and Owen for dinner.”

Her grin widened as she batted her eyelashes, the gesture deliberately playful, coaxing him with her charm.

Wilhelm’s fingers curled around the steaming teacup, his gaze fixed on it as he raised an eyebrow.

“A dinner party?” He winced and made a face. “The truth is I am not particularly inclined towards social gatherings at the moment.”

Genevieve looked crestfallen, and she frowned at him.

“But,” she persisted, her voice soft yet firm, “they are my dearest friends. And their estate is but a short distance from Ravenshire. It seems a shame not to take advantage of their proximity.” She paused, looking directly at him. “And I really miss them.”

Wilhelm sighed resignedly, setting down his teacup with a gentle clink.

“I understand your desire to see your friends, Genevieve,” he conceded. “But I believe they are not particularly fond of my company.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened in surprise. “Not fond of your company?” she repeated in disbelief. “Why would you think that?”

Wilhelm’s lips curled into a wry smile. “I believe they find me rather disagreeable,” he explained, raising his hands in the air and shrugging. “If I am being honest, I do not think they are far off the mark. You are free to visit them alone if you wish.”

Genevieve pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “I believe you are perfectly good company.”

Wilhelm’s face lit up, and his eyes glinted as he reached across the table, his thumb gently tracing the back of her hand. “Then I shall indulge your request, darling,” he said in a low voice. “Invite your friends to dinner.”

Genevieve’s face broke into a radiant smile. “Thank you, Wilhelm!” she exclaimed.

Wilhelm chuckled. “Not at all, love. I merely wish to see you happy.”

Genevieve flashed him another radiant smile. “Might we also invite Lord Gaverton?”

Wilhelm’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening. “No,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

Genevieve pouted, tilting her head coquettishly. “Pray tell, why not?”

Wilhelm continued to shake his head, his tone unyielding. “We are business associates, not friends. The answer is no.”

“But, Wilhelm…” Genevieve clasped her hands together, her voice soft and coaxing. “I would be ever so grateful if you would reconsider.”

Wilhelm let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the arm of his chair.

“Genevieve, I have already said no,” he muttered, although he sounded more resigned than firm.

Genevieve allowed a beat of silence to stretch between them, then reached out and seductively trailed her fingers down his sleeve.

“I would not ask if it was not important,” she murmured, her voice as soft as velvet.

Wilhelm stiffened at her touch, his jaw tightening. He glanced away briefly, as though preparing himself to end the matter, but when he looked back at her, her patient, unwavering gaze unraveled him.

“You little minx,” he grumbled, more to himself than her. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his hand over his face. “Fine,” he sighed resignedly. “But do not think for one minute that I do not see what you are doing.”

Her smile widened, though she quickly schooled her features into something appropriately demure. “I do not have the faintest idea what you mean.”

Wilhelm groaned, shaking his head. “Of course, you do not,” he said. “I shall extend an invitation to Gaverton.”

Genevieve gave him a wide smile, knowing she had won the battle. “Splendid!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I am certain Marianne and Owen will be delighted to finally make his acquaintance.”

Wilhelm let out one final sigh of exasperation. “And I suspect Lord Gaverton will be equally delighted to make theirs. After all, chatting is his favorite pastime.”

“Oh, Mrs. Hughes, these flowers are simply divine!” Genevieve exclaimed, twirling through the dining hall.

Her enthusiasm coaxed a rare smile from Mrs. Hughes, a sight that made Anna muffle a giggle behind her hand, lest Mrs. Hughes chastise her for her insolence.

The days leading up to the dinner party were filled with a flurry of preparations. Genevieve enthusiastically immersed herself in the planning process, overseeing the menu, the decorations, and the dozens of minute arrangements with meticulous care.

She envisioned the elegant table settings, the sparkling crystal glasses, the fragrant floral arrangements, and the lively conversation that would fill the dining hall.

She yearned for the opportunity to share her newfound happiness with Wilhelm with her dearest friends. She longed to properly introduce them to him, to showcase the man she had come to know.

Horses neighed in the yard.

“Oh, they are finally here!” she exclaimed, rushing towards the door.

“Not to worry, Your Grace, I shall—” Mrs. Hughes began, furrowing her brow.

But Genevieve was already at the entrance.

“Genevieve!” Marianne exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Oh, I have missed you so much. Let me take a good, long look at you.”

She leaned back and raised her eyebrows with interest. “There is something different about you since we last saw you. I wonder what has changed you so—for the better, I might add. Ravenshire must be treating you well.”

Genevieve laughed, her cheeks tinged with warmth. “I have never felt better. The Duke has been very attentive to my needs.”

“As it should be,” Owen added with a grin, stepping forward to envelop her in a warm hug.

“Speaking of the Duke…” Marianne nodded her head towards the staircase. “Where is he? Will he be joining us?”

Genevieve nodded and grinned. “He is in his study, finishing up some business. And… he is giving us some privacy,” she added with a wink. “His friend, Lord Gaverton, will also be joining us tonight.”

“I see,” Marianne said, sounding intrigued by the mysterious guest.

“Come,” Genevieve urged, grabbing Marianne’s hand and glancing at Owen. “Let me show you around.”

Kenneth arrived shortly after Genevieve gave Marianne and Owen a tour of the estate. As soon as he entered, he greeted Genevieve with a charming smile and a playful bow.

“Your Grace,” he declared warmly, “it is always a pleasure seeing you.”

Genevieve chuckled, her cheeks flushing at his words. “The pleasure is all mine, Lord Gaverton,” she replied, her eyes glinting with amusement.

She turned to Marianne and Owen with a smile. “Lord Gaverton, may I introduce my dearest friends, the Earl of Clowefield, and his wife, the Countess of Clowefield.”

Kenneth inclined his head to Marianne and Owen, his expression shifting to one of polite seriousness.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintances,” he said. Then, turning back to Genevieve, he added, “If you will please excuse me, Your Grace, I have some business to discuss with your husband. I trust we shall return in time for dinner.”

“Ah, Ravenshire,” Kenneth greeted heartily. “It is always a pleasure to be welcomed into your inner sanctum.”

Wilhelm remained seated behind his desk, a stack of parchment and ledgers before him. He raised an eyebrow at his jovial partner.

“Gaverton,” he greeted with a curt nod, rising from his chair.

With measured steps, he moved to the round table in the corner, pouring two glasses of brandy and motioning for Kenneth to join him.

Kenneth chuckled, settling into one of the armchairs gracefully.

“Business before pleasure as always, Your Grace,” he drawled, his eyes twinkling. “Though I am rather eager to taste what your lovely Duchess has chosen for dinner this evening.”

Wilhelm offered him a small smile. “I believe she is equally eager to display the effort she has put into planning this gathering,” he remarked, his eyes softening. “But first, let us discuss the matters at hand.”

Kenneth nodded, his expression turning serious. “Of course,” he agreed, leaning forward. “I trust your business ventures are prospering?”

Wilhelm’s face broke into a self-satisfied smile. “They are,” he confirmed, a note of pride in his voice. “The shipping routes have proven quite lucrative, and the investments in the textile mills are yielding impressive returns.”

Kenneth’s eyes gleamed with admiration. “As are mine,” he said smugly. “It seems our partnership is proving to be quite fruitful.”

Wilhelm nodded his head in agreement. “Indeed,” he concurred. “Our combined efforts have yielded results beyond my initial expectations.” He paused, his gaze lingering on a particular ledger. “And what of the Shelton affair?”

Kenneth’s grin widened. “You will be quite pleased, Your Grace,” he assured him.

“Excellent,” Wilhelm purred, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “And speaking of the devil, how is our dear Lord Shelton faring?”

Kenneth’s laugh reverberated through the room. “Not well, I am afraid,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “His ships are languishing in the port, his profits are dwindling, and his reputation is suffering. It seems your strategy was quite effective.”

Wilhelm’s smile widened, and a hint of ruthlessness flickered in his eyes.

“As I expected,” he scoffed, his voice tinged with arrogance. “I do have a soft spot for Shelton. His downfall will be… extraordinary.”

Kenneth nodded in agreement. “We expect it to be complete before the year is out,” he confirmed. “You know, your cunning never ceases to amaze me, Your Grace. It has most certainly exceeded my expectations. But we shouldn’t forget our other targets. Shelton deserves our focus, yes, but there are others we must attend to.”

He raised his head slightly. “I shall not rest until he pays for everything he has done.”

Wilhelm noticed how suddenly the marquess stilled and realized his tone might have been too icy. Even so, Kenneth knew very well what Alfred had done—he had experienced it too.

On some level, Gaverton knew what Wilhelm was going through.

“Still. I appreciate your praise… Kenneth,” Wilhelm added, his tone softer this time.

Kenneth nodded, his eyes gleaming. “You know I stand with you, Ravenshire? No matter what,” he said, his voice firm.

Wilhelm nodded. That was all he needed to do.

A comfortable silence settled between them, a shared understanding that spoke louder than words ever could.

They had been allies for a long time. Although Wilhelm would never call Kenneth his friend, he had come to rely on him and trust him.

Kenneth broke the amicable silence, glancing towards the door in anticipation of the evening’s festivities. “And now,” he declared, “shall we join the rest of the guests? I am eager to witness the relationship that you have allegedly cultivated with your lovely Duchess.”

Wilhelm offered him a lopsided smile. “Indeed,” he murmured, rising from his chair.

He paused, his gaze lingering on the portrait of his late mother.

“This gathering was Genevieve’s idea,” he confessed. “She wished to share our happiness with her friends. And with you, for some reason.” He smirked at the dig.

Kenneth’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Ah,” he laughed. “I never thought I would see the day when you succumbed to the charms of a woman, Your Grace. However beautiful she might be.”

“Do not mistake affection for weakness, Gaverton,” he retorted playfully. “I am still the same ruthless Duke that you have always known and loved.”

Kenneth’s grin widened. “Of course, of course,” he conceded, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

He clapped Wilhelm on the shoulder, his gesture one of camaraderie and heartfelt joy.

“I am truly happy for you, Your Grace,” he said, his voice sincere. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Wilhelm cleared his throat after a brief nod.

“Now, come along,” he urged, his voice regaining its usual authority. “Let us not keep our guests waiting.”