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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“That sounds like nothing more than well-reasoned nonsense. You and I both know people would merely say there is something greatly deficient with me. The longer I stay in one place, the more the rumors grow. Soon, someone else will find out about my past and spread it. Thus, no one will fault you, and you need not worry.”

I did not like the look on his face. It was not fair.

“Royalty is royalty, and I will not be seen as turning up my nose at a prince, no matter the circumstance. It is unbecoming of a fine lady such as myself, and you waste your breath trying to convince me otherwise.”

He chuckled. “Those are a lot of words to mask your kindness. I’ve noticed you do this often. Why do you wish people to think you are self-important and ostentatious?”

“Again, you are pretending as if you know me so very well.”

“Didn’t I tell you I have you figured out now?” He grinned. “You are soft-hearted, but sharp-tongued. Prideful, and yet humble.”

“You have no idea what you are saying. I am not in the least bit humble—”

“You only boast about yourself when provoked by the other ladies or to brighten the mood with humor. All other times, you credit yourself only with being a good artist. Despite how you look, you…you don’t go around…”

His voice drifted off, and then he just stopped midsentence.

“Despite how I look— What? How do I look?” I thought he meant to make fun of my outfit again, yet the look in his eyes did not seem teasing but serious…too serious. “Well?”

“You’ve proved my point.”

“What point? I do not understand.”

“Never mind. Come on, we should keep going,” he said, walking forward.

“You cannot just say ‘never mind’ midconversation,” I called after him.

“I can, and I do.”

I wished to kick the back of his legs like a child. Truthfully, I’d noticed that despite our truce I found myself behaving rather freely. He was not a gentleman related to me. As a lady, I was always supposed to watch my speech, behavior, and expression; I was to be faultless. But with him, I was the very opposite.

“Do not worry too much about coming up with a plan for the queen. Eventually she will grow bored and move on to something or someone new,” he replied, still not looking at me, but instead around the shrubbery. “How do you think I have survived her meddling all this time?”

“True. But I must say, we would not be in this predicament with the queen had you not come here to unnerve me.”

He paused at that and looked at me. “You think I came here just for you?”

“What other reason could there be? You have been in London since the beginning of the year, which means you were also there for the opening of the season, but no one has seen you or made your acquaintance apart from a few gentlemen. Which means you’ve been hiding from society, and the queen surely would not have allowed that, so you were ignoring her orders…until after meeting me.”

He made an odd face as he looked me over, his mouth practically open. He then took in air before speaking. “I take it back. You are not humble in the slightest.”

I giggled. “See, I told you that you do not know me. How could you, when even I am unsure of myself most days?”

“And you proudly admit that?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever let a person win an argument against you?”

“No.”

“God help the man who marries you, he will require either the patience of a saint or—”

“What makes you think I will argue with my husband?”

“I have yet to see you not argue, even when being complimented.”

“Only because I am speaking with you. But with my husband, I shall be the most demure of ladies, and he shall do all I ask to make me happy.”

He laughed so loud the birds above us scattered. “Once more, we have entered your fantasy world of marriage. Do you truly believe it will be as perfect as you say? So much so that you would not even argue?”

“You laugh, but some people do have perfect marriages. My mama and papa are such people. I don’t recall them ever really arguing. Papa teases her often, but in the end, he always does what she wishes.”

“Always?”

“Yes.”

“That is impossible. Are you sure they are not just putting up a façade?”

“For twenty years of my life? That would be rather trying, would it not?” I tried to imagine it and shook my head. “Papa honestly does not like upsetting Mama, and she does not like troubling him, either. But even if she does something to annoy him, Papa merely goes into his library or busies himself inspecting the grounds. He does not even raise his voice to her…so it’s hard to know he’s upset. Mama still figures it out, and then they will go on a walk together. Everything is settled after that.”


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