Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96695 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Jessamine blinked at her son. It was as if he’d slipped into a foreign tongue. “What do you mean?”
“He was…a bit of a boor. Rather uncouth and ill-mannered,” Hugo admitted quietly. There had been a hint of playfulness that had sparked Hugo’s interest for an instant, but it had been squashed far too quickly. Hugo wasn’t such a prig that he couldn’t appreciate a relaxed demeanor. Yet, not on their first meeting. There was simply an expectation of some politeness in the beginning as two people got to know each other. At least an air of respect for each other. But Prince Everand had given him none of that. How could he ever care for someone who didn’t respect him?
“Oh, that.” She chuckled and picked up her teacup, taking a sip. “That’s nothing, Hugo. You can’t be so picky when searching for a husband. No one is going to be perfect. Such a small thing like that? You can fix him over time.”
Hugo was skeptical and glanced at Dorian, who had a matching expression on his face.
“The important thing to remember is that if you were to marry the prince, we would have no trouble at all finding proper matches for your brothers. The entire family would be safe, and we’d have nothing to worry about,” Jessamine continued, oblivious to Hugo’s concerns.
Of course, “proper matches” translated into “rich families.” His mother’s concerns were for safety and comfort. Things like happiness and love were for people who weren’t worried about not having enough money for food and coal to get them through the next winter.
“I appreciate that, Mother, but I don’t think that Prince Everand and I will ever be a good match,” Hugo said, trying to cushion the rejection for her.
“We need to find a situation where you can meet. Then you can dazzle him with your wit and charm. He will undoubtedly fall in love with you. I know it.”
“Mother, we will never meet again. The same way we will not travel in the same circles as Lady Hawthorne and the others at the Winthrop Spring Gala.” Hugo rose and pressed a kiss to his mother’s cheek. “I will find a good match and take care of our family, I promise. You must trust me.”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “And I’m your mother. Marriages are my specialty. I will find a good match for you.”
“Without telling more lies?”
She gave him a long, caustic look before finally sighing. “Yes, without telling more lies,” she repeated, though it was far less convincing than when she’d promised the first time.
Hugo forced a smile. May the gods have pity on him. He couldn’t possibly get married fast enough to end this torture.
Eight
“Hugo, please stop,” Dorian called as Hugo shifted the positioning of the ladder against the side of the house. “You don’t have lunch with the bloody prince and then climb onto the roof. It’s…it’s just not done.”
Hugo glanced at his brother and frowned. “It wouldn’t matter if I had dinner with the king and queen—the roof still needs to be fixed.”
“Yes, but your mind isn’t focused on fixing things. Your mind is on other things, which it shouldn’t be if you’re going to be on a roof.” Dorian marched over and pulled the hammer from Hugo’s fist. “We didn’t get you back from near death only to have you fall and break your neck.”
“I’m not going to break my neck.”
Dorian pointed the hammer at him. “The sun is setting, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky. It won’t rain. You can get onto the roof tomorrow. I’ll even help you.”
Hugo stared skeptically at his brother, who very much hated doing anything with tools unless it had something to do with books. “You’ll help?”
“Sure. I’ll hold the ladder or carry nails. Or whatever. As long as it takes. I don’t want you on the roof today.”
Hugo sighed and moved the ladder away from the side of the house. He put it on the grass. Tomorrow he would fix the roof. As much as he hated to admit it, Dorian was right. His mind wasn’t on the hole in the roof, and knowing his luck, he would probably tumble off and break his neck.
“So…do you want to talk about it?” Dorian asked. He was swinging the hammer idly, not paying attention to what he was doing.
Hugo grabbed the hammer from his hand and set it with the ladder before his brother could hurt himself. He wished his father had spent more time teaching them to be handy with things other than baking. All three of them had taken dancing and fencing lessons. They could comfortably ride a horse, but only Augustine showed any practical aptitude toward things like fixing up the house. The problem was getting him to stay still long enough to do the maintenance it needed.