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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“Yes,” she said, moving to the door. “Because Mrs. Watson is both her nanny and head housekeeper, I have had to go seek her in the young miss’s room for any questions, as she is rarely with the other servants.”

The tone of her voice told me she also noticed this was improper and was not pleased with the disorder. I followed her out into the hall. I could truly appreciate the grandeur of this house. From the paintings to the sculptures, it was all stunning, yet I noticed there were few of Evander’s family. There was, however, a painting of a woman with the lightest of brown skin and curly hair pinned back, beside her a young Evander, and in her arms a bundle of white silk, the tiniest little arm outstretching to her face.

“Lady Luella?” I said as I was unable to remember her face.

“Yes, it was commissioned by the duke. It is the only painting of her here.”

“Really?” I repeated. “I would have thought there would be many more than that.”

“After Lady Luella passed, the former duke had all the paintings of her removed, and they were then lost, apparently, as no one knows where they are.”

“Lost? How does one lose so much art?”

She shook her head. “I am unsure. From what I gather, the duke—your husband—sought to commission new works but was displeased with all the artists except for this one. Sadly, the artist passed and could get only this one done.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Mrs. May-Porter,” she replied as though I knew who that was. “The storeroom maid was tasked to give me the lay of the land when I arrived, as Mrs. Watson was tending to the young miss. She loves to talk and does not need a partner to continue the conversation.”

“And what else did you learn?” I asked.

“Too much to simply rattle off, Your Grace, and I am not at all sure of the truth behind it.”

“Such is the nature of talk.” I chuckled. “Falsehood or not, it is good enough that I know what is being said. Eleanor, I am entrusting you to be my eyes and ears. I wish to be apprised of it all, both good and bad.”

She glanced at me curiously. “I must say, Your Grace, I do not know if you have changed or if you are merely being yourself without reservation.”

I thought about it but could not decide. “I am unsure. I must give myself time to become clear.”

“Of course, Your Grace, and here we are,” she said, stopping at the door. I had not even realized where we were in the house or how quickly we had gotten there.

Pay attention, Aphrodite, I reprimanded myself. It would not do for me to get lost.

She knocked on the door before opening it, and when she did, there was Mrs. Watson, fixing Emeline’s hair.

They both stiffened when they saw me.

“Your Grace.” Mrs. Watson curtsied and helped Emeline down quickly, who also tried to curtsy, still finding it difficult. “Good morning. I was not expecting you so early.”

“It is fine. I merely wished to see Emeline and ask if she would join me for breakfast,” I said, glancing down at the girl.

Emeline looked back up to Mrs. Watson, holding her skirt.

Mrs. Watson spoke, “The little miss has eaten already, Your Grace.”

“So early?” I frowned.

“I cannot get her to sit still long enough for me to do her hair if she is not eating. I only just sent the tray back down when you arrived.”

I glanced at Emeline, who looked at me as if I were a monster, even more terrified now than when I had first met her. In fact, every day since my arrival that I had seen her she looked more and more afraid. What had happened? Was I that frightening to her?

“Emeline?” I said gently. “I do hope you and I will have lunch then. I wish us to be friends.”

She eyed me carefully.

I smiled once more and then addressed Mrs. Watson. “I shall allow you to finish your work, but please see to it that we may have lunch together.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she replied.

“I shall see you, Emeline.” I waved to her.

Her response was tepid, and I did not wish to force myself upon her, so I quickly left the room.

“I thought children liked me? She looks scared of me, does she not?”

“Do give her time, Your Grace. I doubt it is easy to adjust to a stepmother,” she reminded me.

Right, the stepmothers in tales were never kind. “Another thing to add to my list of duties.”

“Next, the house staff?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yes, and I would like to see a ledger of all those working here. You should get it from the housekeeper.” I stopped, recalling that the housekeeper was tending to Emeline. I did not wish to disturb her again. “I will need to speak to the estate steward directly then.”



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