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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“Lady Hathor, please, on your feet.”

“I am so tired. Can I please stay in bed—”

“You cannot, for guests are arriving within the hour!”

I sat up as if hounds had chased me from my bed, turning over to stare at her in shock. “Arriving? Have the queen and Prince Wilhelm arrived? But I am not ready!”

“No. But this is why you must awake now, my lady,” she said, reaching into my hair to pick out the feathers. Where my headscarf had gone, I did not know, nor did I have time to care. I rushed from bed as she called for assistance, and when I sat at my vanity I saw I would need every bit of it. I was quickly washed and cleared of any feathers before Bernice came to arrange my hair.

“Shall you keep all of it up, my lady?”

I thought about it for a moment before shaking my head.

“No, not yet, I wish it to be presentable but not so it looks forced. This is my home; I ought to look relaxed but not too relaxed, all the other ladies will not be so fashionable after their journey here. I wish not to look as Lady Ellen did last year.” We’d all arrived at her estate dressed rather modestly, for it took us five days to reach her home, and she greeted us with four different feathers in her hair, several rows of pearls around her neck, and the newest of lace-trimmed gowns.

The other ladies were not pleased by the display, feeling as though she sought to embarrass them, and therefore snubbed her terribly for the remainder of their stay. It grew so bad that the gentlemen, who were often quite clueless, noticed and chose to distance themselves as well. To them, any lady rejected by her own sex must surely be dreadful in some manner. One simple oversight and it all came to ruin for Lady Ellen. I would not make such a blunder. I doubt any of them had gotten word that the queen was coming, and so for me to be so done up would be even more egregious.

I could not come off too strong.

“Yes, my lady, I shall twist it to the side and leave a slight curl over your shoulder,” Bernice said, already at work. The unperturbed focus and dedication on her round freckled face brought calm to my nerves.

This. This was the week. It had to be…but what if it wasn’t? What if this did not work? What if he did not like me? What if…what if Mama was right and there was something horribly wrong with him? What if he was mad like the king? Again, what if he did not like me and found some other lady here much better suited for him than I?

Feeling my nerves build once more, I turned back to my room as the other maids cleaned. “Quickly, hand me my papers. I must go over them once more just in case—”

“My lady, you must remain calm.” Bernice placed her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze in the mirror. “No papers shall help now, you must simply go and show him all your greatness.”

What greatness can be shown to a prince? was what I wished to ask, for he had already seen so much of this world. But I said nothing and let her continue.

“Worry not. I am certain he will be the man of your dreams and all the world will stop along with your heart at the sight of him.” She giggled.

“I believe that is called the rapture, not romance,” I replied, playing with the curl she placed over my shoulder, making her laugh. “But I shall be fine with either at this point in time. For if I cannot make him love me with this much effort, let the world come to a splendid end.”

All the maids looked at me.

I sighed, rising to my feet. “I jest.”

Though not entirely.

Hearing the voices of the footmen, I moved over to my window to see the staff making preparations. If only there were some prayer, some mystical power I could whisper to and have this all done as if it were a fairy tale.

I wanted us to smile at each other until both of our faces hurt. I wished to dance together until we both collapsed from exhaustion. I desired to hold his hand and…and do all Verity said we were meant to do with each other.

Flirt.

Hug.

Kiss.

And…make love.

Oh, how I desired it.

“Lady Hathor, we must be going. Your mother wishes for you to be there to greet the guests upon their arrival.”

Please be the one, please be everything.

3

Hathor

“Hathor, why are you just standing there?” My mother, dressed in purple with two strands of pearls around her neck, called from the bottom of the stairs, a whole litter of servants behind her. “Hurry, we must greet our guests.”


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