Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Hathor is beautiful and sharp-witted. She will surely—”
“And if Hathor marries before you, my dear, it will hang over you like a dark cloud. Then the talk will not be of the ladies of Du Bell but of you alone, Aphrodite, and it will be you whom they slight. You are already twenty-two. I will not have it.”
I hung my head. “Is marriage really all we can aspire to?”
“Yes.” She lifted my head once more. “And a good marriage is a joy. I shall not let you waste away, you are far too precious to me.”
I wished to ask: What if I did not have a good marriage like her and Papa? What would become of me then? Would I not simply waste away in another grand house? Instead, I nodded. “Yes, Mama.”
“Good. Now make haste and prepare. The modiste has already arrived and is with your sister.” She nodded to the maid to help me before leaving just as swiftly as she had entered.
“My lady, I will help you with your coat,” the maid, Eleanor, said, and I stood, allowing her to do so.
With my arms outstretched, I wondered if I fluttered my arms hard enough, would I truly become a bird, and if so, how high could I fly before hitting the roof of my cage?
Damon
“I have made the situation quite clear,” my mother proudly said as she entered my father’s study.
“Well done, my love. But what is the situation?” My father glanced up from the books upon his desk.
My mother’s head tilted to the side, a gesture she was prone to when feeling aggravated or disregarded. “The one regarding our eldest daughter,” she replied.
We both waited quietly for her explanation, which was surely coming.
“I explained to Aphrodite that she must marry this season.”
“I am not opposed, but what did she say on the matter? Did you tell her of Lord Wyndham’s son?” my father asked.
“Lord Wyndham?” I said, folding my paper to look at him. “Is his son not already wed?”
“His first son, yes, but his second is still unwed and apparently caught a glimpse of your sister last summer while she was visiting your aunt and uncle in Drust. They say he is madly in love.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“Father, his second son has neither title nor estate.”
“Ah…” My father lifted his finger and smiled, a gesture he was prone to when he thought himself privy to knowledge the rest of us lacked. “It has come to my attention that Lord Wyndham’s eldest son is quite sickly and very well may not make it to the end of the season. He has no heirs.”
“Still, Odite can do much better than an earl.”
“You turn up your nose at an earl as an earl, my boy.”
“Yes, but only for a time. I will one day inherit the title of marquess from you.”
“So, what of a duke!” My mother cut in loudly, clearly not pleased with being overshadowed. “Evander is—”
“Mother, no,” I said.
“Do not interrupt her,” commanded my father, forcing my lips to seal. “As you were saying, my love, what of the duke?”
“Yes, as you know, he is now a widower. It is my dearest wish for them to reunite,” she said.
“While I do always strive to accommodate your dearest wishes, once more I must ask: What are Aphrodite’s thoughts on this matter?” my father asked.
My mother stood straighter, toying with her shawl, a gesture I also knew. “She is…confused. But I am sure that upon seeing each other, the clouds in her mind will clear, and she will understand what I have always known—that the two of them are meant for each other.”
“I see,” my father said. “And has the duke spoken to you or her? For he has given me no word or indication.”
Again, she toyed. “No, but surely he will.”
“Hmm,” was Father’s reply. “Very well. I shall wait.”
“Good.”
“Not good. May I remind you both that blackguard jilted her and left her open to the ridicule of the whole ton.” I would sooner applaud her betrothal to Lord Wyndham’s second, untitled son than sit by and see her with that detestable man. “I beg of you, Mother, do not be biased in his favor due to your past friendship with his mother.”
“Do you think that you are more concerned for your sister’s well-being than I am, her own mother?” she retorted.
At that moment, my answer would have been yes. However, I could not say as much. My father might hurl a book at the back of my head. “All I mean, Mother, is the talk of him is not pleasant. They say he drove his wife mad and had her confined, their child is being raised without any care or compassion. To my understanding, he is more like his father than his mother. Cruel. Such a man is not worthy of my sister.”