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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“Your Highness.” She curtsied to me.

“Lady Hathor. It is good you have come; I am in need of your assistance,” I replied.

“What?”

“Lady Abena has informed me she will be objecting to our union, both now and in church.”

Immediately her eyes snapped to her little sister. “Is that so? After all the secrets I’ve kept for her, she seeks to hurt me so? Mama, did you know that Abena has been sneaking off to play disguised in Hector’s clothes?”

“What?” Her mother gasped in horror, and it was only then that I noticed the older woman dressed in purple behind her.

“Hathor!” Abena grumbled angrily.

“You’ve been doing what, young lady?” Her mother stepped forward.

“My dear,” the marquess said, clearly seeking to save his daughter. “We have guests.”

“Abena, go wait for me in your room, please.” The marchioness spoke calmly, though her eyes were still raging. “Now.”

Her whole face fell. She glared at Hathor angrily, and Hathor only made a face back at her.

“I can’t believe I gave up pastries for you,” she snapped, grumbling as she went out of the room, and faintly I could hear her still complaining. “I knew it, but no, everyone is always picking on me, now that prince is too, tattletale.”

“Pastries?” Hathor repeated in confusion, looking to me. All I could do was smile, shaking my head to tell her not to worry about it.

“Prince Wilhelm, you are a bit earlier than we expected,” the marchioness said to me.

“Forgive me, your ladyship. In all honesty, I was not paying attention to the time.” I was just pleased that she was finally back.

“We must ask you to do better in the future, Your Highness, as it is very important she returns on time,” the marquess spoke, as he stepped to where we were by the door. He looked directly at Hathor. “You are there to be taught by the queen. That is an honor. Do not become distracted from those lessons.”

He spoke to her, but it was very clear from his tone and the look he gave me out of the corner of his eye that he was warning me, the distraction, not to cross any lines.

“Yes, Papa. I know,” Hathor said, unaware, smiling at him.

“You both should go. Bernice will attend you until you are met by Lady Crane,” her mother said, leading Hathor out of the room first.

As I followed her, the marquess walked with me, speaking sternly and low. “Yes, she is betrothed to you, and yes, I am sure you will spend time together, but do remember she is a lady. A very sweet, young, and naïve lady. Do not expose her to anything beneath her.”

Fathers and their daughters. Hathor was sweet, in her own unique way. She was young, though not so much younger than myself. However, naïve? The woman who looked upon drawings of sex with interest and astuteness? The woman who kissed me back so passionately whenever I kissed her? That was not a naïve woman, just an inexperienced one. But I could not tell him that. He did not want to hear that. He just wanted to know his daughter would be safe, and not left in ruins.

“She will be my wife, and just like you, I wish her never to be harmed or ridiculed in any manner, sir. I shall look out for her. I swear it.”

“Make sure you do.”

I just nodded, stepping toward the carriage, where she and her maid were waiting. I allowed them to enter before me.

“I shall return her before supper,” I said to the marchioness before I also climbed inside.

It was only when we finally pulled away from her home that I could let go of the breath I’d been holding, my shoulders relaxing fully.

“I am sorry.”

I looked to Hathor, confused. “You are sorry for what?”

“The very many…guards around me,” she snickered, looking over to her maid, who pretended to be most interested in the scenery of the city outside the window. “One would think I was the princess.”

“A lady is a jewel that must be protected at all costs, I’m told. Your parents are correct in their precautions.”

“A lady is a jewel?” Her eyes narrowed on me. “You are only saying that because we have a spy.”

I grinned. I’d missed her directness.

“What shall I say instead? How I wish we were married already, so that your family would no longer be the ones to guard you? So, you’d be left under my care to…enjoy?” My foot touched hers, and she pinched her own fingers.

“I must tell you; I am quite tired of guardians—though I am curious about what your definition of care is. Can you elaborate?” Her foot tapped mine back. What a painfully long ride this was.

“Unfortunately, I cannot now; your maid is already blushing,” I replied, looking out the window, also hoping to focus elsewhere.


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