Verity and the Forbidden Suitor (The Dubells #2) Read Online J.J. McAvoy

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Forbidden, Historical Fiction Tags Authors: Series: The Dubells Series by J.J. McAvoy
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
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I did not expect any chance to speak to her, though I had to admit I did wish to. As we walked into the dining room, I thought myself merely satisfied with being able to look upon her. However, my heart skipped when I noticed the only chair left for me was next to her. I stared, waiting for someone else to claim it and punish me for daring to aspire to it.

“What are you doing?” Henry whispered from ahead of me when I did not move.

Not replying, I walked to the chair the footman pulled out for me. It was only when the marquess sat at the head of the table that we all took our own seats. I said nothing, staring down at the silverware, seeking to ignore the slight smell of jasmine that could only be coming from her.

“Do you believe me unsuitable for making conversation with, Dr. Darrington?”

Immediately, I looked up to find her brown eyes peering directly into me. Only when I noticed her slight frown did I find the mind to speak. “No, I do not.”

“Then why are you failing to do so? Even your companion has already begun,” she said, and I noticed Henry and Hathor were speaking, as they also sat side by side.

“I lack my companion’s ability to converse so freely with your sex.”

“What is it about my sex that makes us so hard to converse with freely? Surely, it is no different if the topic is appropriate.”

“That is the problem in and of itself, to maintain propriety, but what man can do so when faced with the charms of a beautiful woman?” The words poured out of me before I could even think. My eyes widened as I stared back at her.

“So, your answer then is you cannot maintain a proper conversation with my sex because you find us all beautiful? Is that why you did not speak during our dance as well, you were distracted by all the young ladies there?”

“No, of course not, you mistake me. I did not speak during our dance because…” I was so deeply in awe of you? I could not say that but I did not know what else to say either.

The frown upon her brow deepened, and she turned away from me as the first-course soup was brought out.

Fuck.

I knew nothing else to say and thought to spare myself from further idiocy. But when else would I be afforded a chance to speak to her like this? Desperately, I searched for anything to salvage this situation, but nothing came to mind.

“Dr. Darrington?” the marchioness called out to me.

“Yes, your ladyship?” I said, immediately looking at her, grateful to be saved.

“Are you staying in town with Lord Fancot, or do you have family here?”

“I do have family in town, relatives of my mother, but their home is rather full, so I have taken up lodging at the Crown Inn.”

“It must be quite lonely without the comfort of family,” she replied as the footmen brought out the next dish, which looked to be lamb.

“Or tranquil,” Damon muttered behind his glass, earning him a glare from both his mother and wife and a chuckle from all the other males in attendance.

“Worry not, your ladyship,” Henry spoke up. “Theodore is like my brother and, thus, I take it upon myself to disturb his peace whenever possible.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“I find myself at the inn only to sleep and, thus, more than enough,” I said.

“For now it may be enough, but it cannot possibly be when you take a wife,” Lady Fancot spoke up.

“I do not have a mind to take a wife, my lady,” I replied to the horror of the whole table, including, it seemed, Lady Verity, who stared at me, eyebrow raised.

“Why ever not?” the marchioness replied, aghast. “Do you find the young women of London so disagreeable?”

“No, on the contrary, I hold women in the highest possible regard. Especially the ladies of the ton, for they handle their harsh fates with grace and dignity that is far superior to any man.”

“Whatever could you mean, harsh fates?” Lord Hardinge laughed, lifting his glass. “I am quite sure nothing so severe could happen within a drawing room.”

I was not surprised by his reply.

“If you, sir, were forced to remain in a room where you were taught skills you had little interest in, would you not find that cruel?” I asked, and he paused with the rim of his glass barely at his lips. “That is the reality for young ladies of the ton. They are kept in drawing rooms, taught etiquette, literature, how to play an instrument, then the arts, as well as needlework. Whether they care for these things is irrelevant.”

“What else could they possibly care for?” Lord Bolen huffed, a deep frown upon his lips.



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