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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Just as I was about to open it, there was a knock at the door.

“My lady?”

Quickly, I placed the jewelry box back under my clothing, shut the trunk lid, and rose to my feet. “Yes, come in.”

A young, freckle-faced maid with red hair and light skin entered with a wash basin and towel in hand, curtsying to me. Evander had told me to bring my own maid, but I’d refused, thinking he was being fussy over me as always. Now I regretted it.

“Good evening, my lady. I am to assist you while you are here,” she said as she placed the water basin on the nightstand.

“It is not necessary. I can do well enough on my own tonight,” I replied, walking to the bed.

“Are you sure, my lady? I could help you get your nightgown,” she said, walking toward my trunk.

“No!” My voice was far too loud, and she jumped slightly before freezing. The look she gave me was one of panic. Quickly, I said, “I mean…it really is fine. I enjoy being self-reliant.”

She only nodded. “And the candles, my lady? Her ladyship said I am to replace them with new ones to last the night.”

I did my best not to bite my lip.

“Do the Du Bells normally keep candles burning through the night?”

“No, not in their rooms, my lady.”

“Then neither shall I. Thank you. You may go.”

She nodded once more and offered a curtsy before leaving the room. Only when the maid was gone did I let out the breath I was holding. It made me bitterly laugh at myself and how pitiful I was.

Holding the candle, I moved back to my trunk and took out both the jewelry box and my journal before walking to the desk to write.

May 9, 1813

Evander, my dear brother,

Is now with his lover.

It was a wonder to see

And yet the emotion was not meant for me.

There is a difference between him and me.

He a child of July, and I of December.

One raised by our mother and the other by our father.

The season began in the spring, and I am forever in winter.

What heart could bear my freezing?

I dare not ponder.

Setting down my pen and closing my journal, I opened the small box, lifted the vial to my lips, and drank before blowing out all the candles.

2

Verity

“Verity.”

“Verity!”

My eyes snapped open to see the marchioness staring down at me in panic. She sat at my bedside, still dressed in her white sleeping gown and a violet-colored robe with her initials embroidered on the chest, her hair still within her similarly colored silk bonnet.

“Are you well?” she asked me, placing her hand on my forehead. I was unsure what had happened but prayed it was not what I thought it could be. Sadly, those prayers were unanswered, as she went on to say, “You were crying out in your sleep, my dear. Did you have a night terror?”

Shame, frustration, and anger rushed through me as I sat up in bed. Why? Why did this happen? I had taken the tonic, a whole vial of it, in hopes of not causing a disturbance. What should I do? Smile and laugh it away? No, she would know something was amiss.

“Verity?” she called again gently. “Do—”

“Forgive me, Godmother. I did not mean to wake you. I haven’t a clue what happened. I cannot remember,” I replied, gripping my hands. It was not a complete and utter lie. I could never remember my dreams, and I did not care to. I merely sought to make it through the night without incident.

“It must be the new room,” the marchioness said with certainty and then looked about the quarters as the morning rays of light began to peek through the curtains. “I instructed the maids to keep it well lit for you, but it seems they did not do so.”

I did not wish anyone to be punished on my account.

“It is my error, Godmother, as I told them not to. My brother says it’s quite unsafe to keep candles burning through the night. A tenant on our estate lost his house and nearly his wife one summer in Everely over a single candle. Can you imagine?” I forced out a nervous laugh, and again her brown eyes focused upon me. I felt like retreating under their weight. “Thank you for your care, but I am quite well. Forgive me again for startling you this morning.”

“I am the mother of six children, so there is nothing short of the second coming of Christ that could startle me, my dear. I am pleased you are well,” she replied as she rose from my bedside. “Breakfast shall be served in your rooms, I wish to give everyone enough time to recover from the festivities yesterday before we attend the private concert at the Rowleys’ this evening.”


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