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)
“Your Grace?”
Opening my eyes, I looked to see Emeline sitting up in bed, rubbing her head. Going to her, I placed my hand on her face. “Did I wake you?”
She shook her head.
“Well, I am glad you are awake. I wished to tell you of your new nanny.”
She froze, looking at me.
“Do not worry, she is very nice. Well, she is nice and a bit strict. My sister Abena loved her greatly. And she is only to help when I am not able to spend time with you. But I will be with you as much as I can.”
“What about Mrs. Watson?” she asked.
“Your papa is unhappy with her. And you do not wish him to be unhappy, right?”
She pouted but shook her head.
“If you dislike your new nanny, I will find a new one.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good, then let us prepare for her and have time in the garden. We’ll eat whatever you like for dinner.”
She nodded, and I lifted her from the bed, hugging her tightly, and when she hugged me back, my heart skipped.
I had become very much attached to this one.
It surprised me.
Evander
It had been one nightmare of a day, and I simply wished for it to be over. Which I thought had been the case when Aphrodite and I had gone to bed, but when I awoke she was not beside me any longer. I waited in bed, but when she did not return after ten minutes, I arose, wearing my nightshirt to search for her. She was not in Emeline’s room, the drawing room, or the kitchen. Panic began to rise until I saw the light by the patio.
Gravitating to it as if I were a moth, I found her, sitting at the table with a bottle of port beside her and a piece of cake on a plate in her hand. With her curly hair down and wearing her dressing gown, she sat in the garden.
“At times like this you make me wish I were an artist.”
Her head spun around to me, and seeing the spoon in her mouth and how…shocked she was at being caught, I could not help but laugh.
“You are awake?” she asked.
“As are you,” I said and took a seat beside her. “What keeps you from my bed tonight? Port and cake?”
“Forgive me. It is very good.”
“I must judge for myself,” I replied, parting my mouth for her to feed me.
She gave me a look, but I remained, waiting. So, she lifted the cake, taking a small portion of it with her spoon before feeding it to me.
I chewed slowly, observing the beauty that was she. How could such a fine woman exist—and not only exist, but be mine and mine alone?
“You were truly and aptly named,” I whispered.
“Oh, please do not,” she begged as she took another bite.
“I have never understood why it displeases you to be called what you are—a true beauty. Is that not what a woman desires to be?”
“It is, and I am not displeased with it. More…” She paused to think. “Fearful.”
“Fearful of being beautiful?”
“Fearful that it is all that I am,” she replied. “If my only claim to glory be my beauty, what am I when it fades? I am no goddess and will not remain young forever.”
“I am certain you shall be divine at any age, and I the luckiest of all men.”
She giggled, glancing at me, eyebrow raised. “Are you not biased?”
“Very much so, but my opinion as your husband ought to be worth the most, correct?”
She was silent and ate another bite of cake. She was teasing me, and so I leaned closer to her, my nose nearly touching her cheek.
“Correct?”
She did her best not to laugh and shrugged. So I took her cake.
“Hey!”
“What is the point of filling your mouth with sweetness if you will not speak sweetly?” I asked. She glared, and I glowered back. “If you wish, we may remain like this till sunup.”
She laughed. “Fine. Yes, as my husband, your opinion matters the most.”
“I am no longer satisfied, as now I believe you said it for the cake.”
She rolled her eyes and leaned over to place her lips on mine. Indeed, heaven was here.
“Truly, you matter the most, my love. The very most,” she whispered. No other woman on earth could make my heart skip as she did. But for her, I would commit blasphemy and erect statues in her honor to give praise.
“Explain why we are on the patio instead of in our rooms so I may have you there?” I asked, my forehead on hers.
“I needed to think, so it is good we are on the patio, as you have a tendency to distract me.”
“I shall take that as a compliment and remind you later. For now, share with me your thoughts.”
She took her cake and set it to the side. “There is so much to take in. Every day there is something to do, which is quite odd to me, for I never thought this life, tending to house and family, would be so taxing.”