Aphrodite and the Duke (Aphrodite and the Duke #1) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Historical Fiction, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Aphrodite and the Duke Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
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“What is the point? The queen said not a word to me!” Hathor cried as she entered, yanking the feathers out of her hair.

“Consider yourself lucky, for the words she did speak brought the other young ladies to tears,” my mother replied.

“You are not riding with Father?” I asked Mother.

“Do you seek to calm her down alone?”

I did not.

“Abena, here,” she ordered our youngest sister, who was trying to stow away in the other carriage.

“Mama, would you not—”

“Here,” she repeated.

Devana laughed at her as she was able to ride with our father.

Abena marched to the carriage, was helped inside, and the door closed. My mother reached to grab her ear, but Abena hugged me. “Mama, people can still see.”

“So you are aware, and yet you spoke out of turn before the queen, and not only did you speak, it was language unbecoming of a lady!”

“But the queen laughed,” Abena tried to argue.

“You shall wash the pots!”

“Mama!” She gasped in horror.

“If you wish to speak as maids do, you shall work as maids do. May that remind you of who you are.”

Abena looked at me and shrugged, trying not to laugh. I had been mistaken. It was not Abena’s head Mother would have but apparently her poor hands.

“Do you all not see that I am distraught?” Hathor wept dramatically.

“Hathor, how many times must I tell you that you are perfectly fine?” Mother said.

“I did not want to be perfectly fine. I wanted to be the season’s incomparable.”

“Then you should have stolen Aphrodite’s face,” Abena teased, and Hathor nearly lunged at her. “All eyes were upon her, even the queen’s.”

“You!”

“Enough!” Our mother started rubbing her temples. “I beg of you all, enough. Hathor, gather your wits. The day is not yet done. Instead of your theatrics, regroup and prepare for the real battle, for that begins tonight. And you”—her gaze shifted to me—“remember my words.”

I nodded. “Do not fret, Mama. I understand.”

I would find someone, and then talk of me would finally change.

4

Aphrodite

I could not recall the last time I had been to a ball, and it dawned on me as I stood amid this one that in my absence from society the world had passed me by. I did not know any of the steps to these new dances. I watched my sister accept dance after dance while I was forced to reject those who came to me. My mother was not pleased, as she had not been aware I was so lacking, and I was not pleased, for it forced me to recall the words of the women earlier in the day, when they had called me a living painting. Dressed finely, I only stood or sat under the appraising gaze of those present. And the gaze I felt most of all was that of the duke. For he was here, and I watched him dance with no one other than his sister. That did not deter the many other young ladies who sought to speak with him and have his company. Once I knew where he was, I did not look in that direction, and was thankful he had managed to greet my mother while I was not beside her.

“If you are unable to dance, sing. If you are unable to sing, then play,” my mother muttered beside me and nodded to the other room where the pianoforte was left for many ladies to demonstrate their talents. They had all but gathered in a line. It seems rather silly but this night was meant to parade the new young ladies of the ton and all they had to offer in front of eligible men.

“I think not,” I replied to her. “For it would—”

“Do we fail to impress you, Lady Aphrodite?”

Upon hearing my name and the music stop, I came face-to-face with…the queen. I immediately dropped low into a curtsy, bowing my head.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I did not see you.”

“Do rise. I must have my answer.”

I did as she commanded, rising slowly, then lifting my head. She stood before me in a rich crimson gown and a white wig, a cane in one hand.

“I could never be unimpressed by such splendor,” I replied as now all of the world—well, this small universe—focused on me.

“And yet I have not witnessed you take even one dance, nor heard you sing, nor seen the faintest look of amusement or joy upon your face. Why is that?”

I wished to tell her it was merely the condition of my face. However, that would not do. All knew that the queen had become truly harsh, unlike her formerly kind self. My uncle had mused that she had taken her frustration with the king’s condition out on society.

“Well?” she demanded.

I curtsied once more, but not as low, and remained in position. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, for you have caught me, and I cannot escape.”


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