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)
I paused as I recalled my father and how he had acted when my mother passed. How he’d barely said a word, either.
Dammit all.
I rubbed the side of my head, sighing.
I am not my father. I am not my father. I repeated the mantra in my mind as I walked near Emeline’s room.
“I saw sheep, and then the other girls showed me their dolls. They said their mama made them! The dolls were really dirty, but they said it was because they were hugged so much.”
That little voice rambling off was something I had never heard before. In fact, I had to look in and check that it did not belong to some other child instead of Emeline. But sure enough, there she was, running circles as Mrs. Watson looked for a new dress.
“Can I get a doll?” Emeline asked. “I want one that looks like me, too, with curly hair and a pretty dress. Oh, and a hat!”
“Of course, my dear. I will make you one.” Mrs. Watson chuckled.
I grinned. Who knew Emeline could say so much and so quickly, other than Mrs. Watson, of course. I was about to leave them be when Emeline spoke again.
“Can Odite do it?”
“Odite?” Mrs. Watson repeated.
“The duchess. The other girls said that it has to be done by your mama. The duchess is my mama now, right?”
I smiled.
“No.”
What? I stepped closer to see Mrs. Watson kneeling before her. “The duchess is the duchess. She is not your mama. Did I not explain? It is best for you to be respectful and quiet, not to make her angry. And never call her Odite again. It is Your Grace.”
“But she said I could,” Emeline whispered. “She is not mean.”
“Yet. This is because she is pretending. She wants everyone to like her, and then she will start to bully you. But no one will believe you. When that happens, you will be in grave danger, my dear. She will seek to get rid of you at once. People like her cannot be trusted—”
“Mrs. Watson,” I hollered, quaking in horror and rage, as I could not believe my ears. Upon seeing me, she jumped back.
“Your Grace—”
“Pack your things. You are dismissed at once!”
“Sir—”
“How dare you speak so of my wife!” Had she not been elderly and a woman, I would have raised my hand and struck her across her face. “How dare you poison my daughter with your lies!”
“Your Grace, please, I was—”
“I said at once! Never let me see your face upon these grounds again!” I was shaking, rushing to Emeline. I lifted her, holding her away from the snake of a woman. “God only knows what you have done to this child all these years. Get out of my sight. Now!”
She jumped and rushed from the room.
“No!” Emeline reached for her, but I held her tightly. “Papa, no! Mrs. Watson!”
“Shh.” I hugged her tightly as she began to cry, struggling for freedom. “She is not good, Emeline.”
“No! Mrs. Watson!” she screamed again, sobbing.
I did not know what to do, so I held her.
Aphrodite
“Your Grace!”
I jumped, nearly spilling my tea upon myself.
“Good Lord! What is it, Eleanor?”
“You must come at once!” She rushed inside my drawing room, still gripping the letters I had asked her to send only moments ago. “The duke has dismissed Mrs. Watson, and he ordered her thrown from the grounds.”
“What?” I rose quickly. “When? Why?”
“No one knows, Your Grace. The maids heard yelling and then saw Mrs. Watson crying as she rushed from the young miss’s rooms. The duke then gave orders. It was all just moments ago.”
“What on earth could have happened in the ten minutes since we last saw her?” I replied as I followed her from the room.
“I am unsure, Your Grace. However, the little miss was irate and sobbing for Mrs. Watson’s return.”
Just when I had thought the day had gone perfectly, we were faced with this unexplained chaos. It did not take long for us to reach her room, as we were doing what my mama said never to do, running—well, more fast walking but still very unladylike, and I could hear my mama in the back of my head, yelling at me. It was amusing how mothers stuck with you even when they were far, far away—a mama was everything.
That was why, when I entered Emeline’s room and saw her lying on her bed, curled into a ball, my heart sank. Mrs. Watson had raised her and was all but her mama, whether that was proper or not. Losing her like this would disturb her greatly, and yet the man who dismissed her stood staring out the window, arms crossed over his chest.
Carefully, I walked to Emeline and placed my hand on her back, but she would not respond to me. She just took deep breaths.