Hathor and the Prince (The Dubells #3) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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“Oh, dear God, not Tony. That is an awful name for a future duke,” I replied, taking a seat across from her as she pulled out her breast from the top of her dress to feed him. Watching his little mouth latch on to her made me stiffen. “Does that hurt? You did not wish to get a wet nurse?”

She giggled. “Mama nursed us, and we turned out splendidly. As such, I shall do the same. But yes, it does hurt sometimes.”

“Why must everything with women hurt? It is unfair,” I replied as I leaned back in the chair, grateful for the heat, as it was the coldest winter I had ever seen.

“What else has hurt you? Your monthly? You never had pains before.”

I did not mean that, and I did not want to think of what I did mean, so I just offered a smile. “Never mind me, I am merely being silly.”

Her head tilted to the side as she patted the bum of her son. “Everyone is right: You are very much changed.”

“What do you mean? I have changed?”

“Yes, you.”

“If anyone has changed, it is you. You are a mother—well, that is incorrect, I would not wish your daughter to hear me and feel affronted. You have given birth; that is a change. How does your daughter fare with her new sibling. Well, I hope?”

“Very well. She wishes to check on him any moment she can. And I will not let you escape from my conversation.”

“I am not seeking to escape anything, I assure you.”

“Hathor,” she said softly with a sad smile, pity or sorrow in her eyes. “I know I have been very much absent in your life over the last few months. And so much has occurred for you in that time. But know I am here, if you wish to speak on it all. I do, unfortunately, have experience in these things.”

I stared at her effort in both love and amusement. She, like everyone else, believed I had been abandoned, as it had been five months since Wilhelm left. There had been no letters, and no more summonses to the palace. Instead, there were only rumors—a great many rumors. It had become so bad in London that Papa and Mama quickly returned to the castle, no more than two days after. The staff had barely finished unpacking before we were leaving once again. But that still did not help—the rumors reached us in Monthermer. We received no Christmas ball invitations this year, since many believed I’d ruined myself with a prince. Aphrodite luckily had given birth, giving us a reason to go and spend Christmas with her. Verity and Sir Darrington would be arriving tonight as well.

“Hathor?”

“Hmm?”

“You are not saying anything, which is very strange for you. Mama and Papa are worried.”

“Mama and Papa are always worried. They’ve always wished me to calm myself. And yet now, because I am not crying and throwing a fit, they are concerned still.”

“Because crying would be normal. You have dealt with a lot.”

“As have you, Aphrodite. It was not so long ago that all of society was talking about the chaos at Everely.”

“You are changing the subject again. And you know that was different. I did not have to struggle with it alone, as I had…” Her voice trailed off.

“You had your husband?” I finished for her.

“Forgive me. I do not wish to pry—”

“Then don’t, Aphrodite. It is all right. I am all right, and pleased to know you are well.”

She pouted like a child. “It scares me when you speak like this. Where is my baby sister who would not give me a moment of peace and envied me greatly, wanting to know all my affairs?”

“She grew up, and realized your affairs are not my affairs. Young ladies cannot stay silly forever.”

“But silliness is part of your charm.”

I giggled. “It is, isn’t it? Luckily, I was blessed with a great many other attributes. So, fear not, I shall think of something else to concern you all. Maybe I shall mock your horrid sewing skills, for what on earth is that?”

I pointed to the deformed doll on the ground with several poorly sewed arms.

“Do not make fun of my son’s bear!”

“That is supposed to be a bear? In what land do bears look like that? It is all right not to be good at everything. You could have simply bought one for him, or had one made.”

“Since you seem so knowledgeable, why don’t you make one for him?”

“Me?”

She looked down at her son. “Sweetheart, your aunt Hathor is going to make you the most spectacular doll ever, with her own hands.”

“No. No. No. Do not tell him that. He shall be expecting it, and I have no idea how to make a doll.”

“Oh, but you can judge one.”

“Yes, all that requires is my eyes, not my fingers.”


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