Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Men love a woman who can keep her curves,” she said, giving her shoulders a shimmy, which, in turn, made her bosom dance around jollily – and nearly spill out of the low-cut bodice of her gown.
Victor shared an amused look with Pandora as he passed her some of the turnips.
“You know what this meal reminds me of?” Uncle Reginald asked as he heaped the lamprey in blood sauce onto his plate. Pandora didn’t even know where the plates had come from. “The meals at the palace directly before the Black Death started,” he continued, making Pandora sigh to herself. “Lampreys were abundant then. Though, the blood sauce was a bit richer.”
Victor’s brows pinched at that.
“He’s a big history buff,” Dante, at Victor’s side, said, saving Pandora from trying to rack her brain for another excuse.
“Well, if you like that blood sauce so much more, perhaps I shouldn’t ever make it for you.” Ravenna huffed, flicking her silver curls, offended.
“Everything looks lovely,” Victor told Ravenna, making the woman soften immediately.
“See? This young man knows how to speak to a woman who sweated over a stove for seven hours today.”
Pandora imagined that was true – the sweating aside – because she couldn’t imagine her own mother standing at a stove mixing stew or chopping up lamprey.
“So, Victor,” Lucian spoke, making Pandora tense yet again, worried her father was going to try to say something to scare off her fiancé. “I hear you are a student.” Pandora hoped Victor didn’t pick up on the coolness in her father’s voice at that last word.
“I am, sir,” Victor replied, seemingly glad to have a reason to put his fork down.
Down the table, Pandora’s cousin Jasper was plopping chunks of lamprey back into the serving dish so he could sip the blood right out of his bowl.
With Victor distracted, Pandora leaned down, suddenly paranoid about what kind of blood had been used to make the sauce. But all she caught were hints of fish, tomato, and wine. No actual blood at all.
Down the table, Jasper learned this at the same time, choking and spluttering as Bellatrix scowled and wiped a splash of sauce off her bare arm.
“You all right there, my boy?” Uncle Reginald asked, rapping Jasper hard on the back, making him nearly faceplant into his plate piled with jellied eel.
“And how do you plan to take care of my daughter when you are a student?” Lucian asked.
“I will be finishing up university within the next year, sir. Then I plan to become a lecturer myself,” Victor said, pulling himself up to full height, proud of his future plans.
Pandora knew her own father would not be impressed, though. Not when he believed Pandora should be pampered by her husband and his fortune.
She probably should have been trying to think of a way to interject, to guide the conversation toward more neutral ground. But she was too busy imagining walking into a lecture hall to see Victor standing there at the front, looking studious in a sweater vest and maybe some glasses that he would take off when he was passionate …
Lucian’s next question made Pandora groan. “Are you aware that my daughter is about to inhe—”
The heavy metallic clang of the door knocker echoed through the house, its weighted thud carrying a hollow resonance that seemed to shudder through the very walls.
It cut cleanly through the hum of conversation, the clinking of cutlery, and the heavy tension in the air of the dining room.
“Now, who could that be?” Ravenna asked, glancing up and down the table as if to figure out who wasn’t in attendance.
Though, thanks to their massive extended family, Pandora could think of at least two dozen cousins, aunts, uncles, or friends that weren’t currently taking up seats at the table.
“I will see,” Ophelia said, rising from her seat like a queen from her throne.
If Pandora had been paying closer attention, she might have noticed the devious smile tugging at the corners of her mother’s lips. But she found herself suddenly occupied by the empty chair directly beside her.
Why had they stuck Victor across the table if there was an empty seat right next to her?
As if answering her question in real time, Ophelia moved into the doorway of the dining room.
But she was no longer alone.
Standing beside her was a man who commanded all the attention in the room.
It seemed as if his very presence made the air in the room shift, demanding everyone turn to look at him.
He was tall and impeccably dressed, his tailored suit fitting him like a second skin, every stitch screaming wealth and refinement.
His dark hair gleamed under the chandelier’s light, swept back in effortless waves that framed a face that seemed carved from marble.
He had high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and lips that were curved up in the faintest smile.