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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I certainly hoped so.

“The intensity of your gaze is making me nervous,” she murmured, nibbling a tiny bit of bread.

“Forgive me.” I glanced down, eating quietly.

“And now the lack of your gaze is making me sad.”

“Then tell me what to do.”

“I do not know.” She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Evander, I do not know what to say about anything. You confuse me.”

“Good.”

“Good?” She gasped. “How is that good?”

“It means I am in not only your mind but also your heart.”

“Even if it is in a muddled manner?” she pressed.

“Is it muddled only because you fear giving in?” I watched her face to see how she would react.

“Giving in to what?”

“Your feelings, of course.”

“It has been four years. My feelings could have changed.”

“Then why did you reject Tristian Yves?”

“Because I…he is a good man and deserves a lady who loves him, and I do not,” she said. Though she stated she did not love him, her speaking highly of him bothered me.

“That is not the only reason, or you would not have come to me in the rain as you did.”

She took a much bigger bite of her bread, and I fought not to laugh. When we were younger, people often said Aphrodite was the hardest to understand, that she did not communicate well enough, simply because she chose to be silent instead of revealing her innermost thoughts. And yet, to me, her silence was always as clear as a freshwater spring.

“It has been four years. There is a chance I could have changed from the girl you knew.”

“Is your favorite color still blue?” I asked. “And not any blue, but the color of the sky on the clearest of days? Do you still detest champagne but love port, of all things? Do you still consider cake suitable for dinner? Do you still curse people in your mind when you are angry? Is your favorite book still by Samuel Richardson, but no one knows as you were forbidden to read it, and I snuck it to you? Do they believe you are the biggest fan of Shakespeare?”

“I am a fan of Shakespeare,” she said quickly.

“You like only the Merchant of Venice and his sonnets. The others you do not mind, but you find it frustrating that no theaters seem to do them justice.”

“Because they do not, with the exception of Macbeth!” she complained, biting into her apple angrily. “I believe the theater is greatly lacking, especially with Sarah Siddons now retired.”

I bit back a grin as she eased into the manner I once recalled. “So what you are telling me is that you are still the girl I remember.”

She paused, realizing she had revealed herself. “Fine, I have not changed that much. But what of you?”

“I fear I have changed greatly.” I had become cold without her, without her family, whom I had only ever considered my own.

“How so?”

“After all that has occurred, I find that I am far less trusting.” Outside of her family and Verity, I believed the world to be the cruelest place filled with only opportunistic people.

“Well, you were not very trusting and open before.”

“I was to you, was I not?”

“No.” She huffed, ripping the small piece of her bread angrily. “You and I spoke often, but you never told me about your family or how you felt. I know you, but I do not know you. Back then, I told myself not to push, as I would be…married to you and find out later.”

“I—”

We heard movement outside the door, and immediately, she dropped under the table, hiding, for if anyone saw her with me at this hour, dressed as we were, it would ruin her. I moved to block the door.

“Who is there?”

It took a second before Wallace arrived stoic-faced and holding a candle, staring at me in confusion. “Your Grace? What are you doing here? I was sure I heard—”

“I was hungry.”

“I can have the cook—”

“No need. I am finished and about to return to bed. You may go.”

Suddenly, there was a soft sneeze behind me, and I wished to close my eyes and hang my head.

“I see, Your Grace, pardon me. Good night.” He nodded and took his leave.

Aphrodite rose quickly, rushing to me. “He heard me? What if he—”

“He will say nothing,” I assured her. Had it been anyone else, I would be worried about gossip spreading among the servants by daybreak. “Though we must get you back to your rooms, as I do not know when the other servants awaken.”

She nodded. “Or my brother.”

Now that was even more concerning. “Stay behind me.”

She hurried behind my back, and I did my best not to smile as a memory of her playing with her siblings popped into my head—she always was the best at hiding.

I felt childish hurrying and sneaking through the halls of my own home…but at the same time, it was good fun, and I had not had that in so long that reaching her door was actually wretched.



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