Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Stop thinking of books, Aphrodite, I thought, reprimanding myself.
“Look, that is the Duke of Everely,” a lady whispered. They had taken their fill of us and now sought a new target.
I did my best not to turn, but I could not help myself. In a deep blue jacket, Evander’s skin was an ever sun-kissed and warm brown, a trimmed beard upon his perfectly squared jaw, his shoulders broad, giving every viewer an account of his good height, his brown eyes focused on his younger sister…Oh no. Oh dear. My breath caught. He was even more handsome than I remembered.
He had changed, but for the better. The longer I looked upon him, the harder my heart began to beat. Then, without notice, as if he could hear the drum in my chest, he glanced up, and our eyes met. All the world seemed to have stopped, even my own heart. I felt…I felt something whenever I looked at him and I was unable to bear it. I spun away as quickly as I could without falling over, but nearly knocked into my father.
“Odite?”
“Yes?”
He looked me over and then offered his arm, as my mother and Hathor had gone to the waiting room.
“We must go to our places.”
“Of course,” I replied and held tightly to his arm.
Whatever was left of the duke in my heart, I would rid myself of it as he had rid himself of me. I would show him that I had no desire for his attentions, nor was I some pitiable creature. Just as I would surely hear of his wedding this season, he would hear of mine. He would see me content without him.
“Papa,” I said softly as we stood in the receiving hall.
“Yes, my dear?” he whispered, eyeing the door.
“Would you be pleased if I married this season?”
He looked at me, pausing for a moment before squeezing my hand. “It is not what pleases me, my dear, but what pleases you. Fear not. Even if you wish never to marry, I shall support you.”
“Mama would have your head for telling me that.”
“Let it then be between just us, though, should you not marry, you would forever have to face your mother.”
“Are you supporting me or threatening me?”
He chuckled, and a broad smile appeared on his lips, which made me smile as well.
The queen’s arrival was announced. Immediately, I released my father’s arm, bowed my head, and curtsied before slowly rising back up. When I lifted my head, the queen was looking right at me, her figure domineering under heavy silks and jewels, her wig high. Everyone else followed her gaze—thus, everyone’s eyes were upon me. Not a word was said, and she looked away just as she looked at me…at her leisure.
“Begin,” she declared.
And so it began.
The scrutiny.
“Lady Clementina Rowley, presented by her mother, Her Grace, the Duchess of Imbert.” The doors opened to reveal a rather tall young lady, perhaps taller than any man there, with a particularly long neck. Her very short mother was behind her. She was not unseemly, though her walk…wobbled. I glanced at the queen, who had a disagreeable expression upon her face. I immediately felt for the girl. The queen could and would be vicious.
When Lady Clementina Rowley reached the queen and curtsied, the queen sat up and asked, “My poor girl, were you stretched as a child?”
A few snickers engulfed the room, and I looked away from the brutality of that moment. I found myself staring at the one person I did not want to see—Evander. His brown eyes stared back at me, and I at him, and he at me, and so on. I could not read his expression. Every so often, he would look away, and then I would look away. The ladies came and went in between, and then once more, I found myself looking when he was not. Finally, tired of this ridiculous game, I focused on the door.
“Lady Verity Eagleman, presented by Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Everely.”
Evander’s sister had blossomed. I remembered her from when she was just a little girl, quite sneaky and devious, always seeking to play in the garden. Her features were soft, her face heart-shaped, and her skin the same as her brother’s. Her walk, while graceful and gentle, unlike the dowager, was…not right. Even worse, she had somehow managed to wear the same color as the queen herself.
I stole a glance at Evander, unable to stop myself, and I could read the horror on his face. I quickly turned my head to the queen, for if there was anything she hated, it was to be outdone, especially within her own walls.
Verity curtsied slow and low. The queen’s face did not reveal much.
I wished to save Verity somehow. Should I faint? Cause a commotion?
“Queer as Dick’s hatband!” Abena shouted.