Aphrodite and the Duke Read online

  Aphrodite and the Duke is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2022 by J. J. McAvoy

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Dell, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Dell is a registered trademark and the D colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  library of congress cataloging-in-publication data

  Names: McAvoy, J. J., author.

  Title: Aphrodite and the duke: a novel / J.J. McAvoy.

  Description: New York: Dell Books, [2022]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2022003007 (print) | LCCN 2022003008 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593500040 (trade paperback; acid-free paper) | ISBN 9780593500057(ebook)

  Subjects: LCGFT: Romance fiction. | Novels.

  Classification: LCC PR9199.4.M386 A86 2022 (print) | LCC PR9199.4.M386 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23/eng/20220208

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2022003007

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2022003008

  Ebook ISBN 9780593500057

  randomhousebooks.com

  Book design by Virginia Norey, adapted for ebook

  Cover design: Derek Walls

  Front-cover images: © Jeff Cottenden (woman), © image of life/Getty Images (background)

  ep_prh_6.0_140667122_c0_r0

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Author's Note

  Part One

  Chapter 1: Aphrodite

  Chapter 2: Aphrodite

  Chapter 3: Aphrodite

  Chapter 4: Aphrodite

  Chapter 5: Aphrodite

  Chapter 6: Aphrodite

  Chapter 7: Aphrodite

  Chapter 8: Aphrodite

  Chapter 9: Damon

  Chapter 10: Aphrodite

  Chapter 11: Aphrodite

  Chapter 12: Aphrodite

  Chapter 13: Evander

  Chapter 14: Evander

  Chapter 15: Evander

  Chapter 16: Aphrodite

  Chapter 17: Aphrodite

  Part Two

  Chapter 18: Aphrodite

  Chapter 19: Aphrodite

  Chapter 20: Aphrodite

  Chapter 21: Aphrodite

  Chapter 22: Aphrodite

  Chapter 23: Aphrodite

  Chapter 24: Evander

  Chapter 25: Aphrodite

  Chapter 26: Aphrodite

  Chapter 27: Aphrodite

  Chapter 28: Aphrodite

  Chapter 29: Aphrodite

  Chapter 30: Aphrodite

  Chapter 31: Aphrodite

  Chapter 32: Evander

  Chapter 33: Aphrodite

  Chapter 34: Aphrodite

  Epilogue: Aphrodite

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By J. J. McAvoy

  About the Author

  Beloved Reader,

  This is a Regency romance involving nobility and high society, in which there are Black people. This is fiction, and anything is possible here. I truly hope you enjoy it.

  Sincerely,

  Your Author

  1

  Aphrodite

  My name is Aphrodite Du Bell.

  Yes, truly. Aphrodite, as in the goddess of love and beauty. A name wholly magnificent, yet, to my mind, utterly cruel to give a child, for who could live up to such a grandiose mantle? Was it not daring all the world to measure a young lady’s beauty not against her peers but against a goddess? If she did not meet the measure, she would be left to ridicule and mockery. Should she be blessed with extraordinary beauty, she would be cursed with the expectation of magnificence. Failing to meet that expectation would also herald ridicule and mockery. It is an unforgiving name, and I believed it was fated to bring forth some great tragedy, just as in the myths.

  For all the stars in the sky, I could not fathom why Father and Mother had given me this burden. Even upon asking them, they had no remorse for their actions and thought themselves quite clever. So much so, they proceeded to name my three younger sisters after goddesses as well, though they were more fortunate than I with their names—Hathor, Devana, and Abena. If you were not as scholarly as my father—who had taught much to my mother in terms of Egyptian, Slavic, and West African mythology—you might be utterly unaware that those were the names of deities. So my sisters’ burdens did not equal my own. And my two brothers, named after heroes, Damon and Hector, made off quite easily as well, though they were men, and such were their lives.

  We were the six children of Lord Charles Du Bell, the Marquess of Monthermer, and Lady Deanna. To all the world that mattered, we were among the most prominent families, fortunate with title, wealth, wit, beauty, and of course, a loving home, which was Belclere Castle. With the exception of my elder brother, not one ill word could have been uttered about any one of us…until certain events came about in my life. After years of running away I was now in a carriage on my way back to London society.

  “The man is a fiend, a wolf among men just like his father was,” my dear brother Damon complained.

  “Careful, my dear, you shall wake her,” his soft-spoken new wife, Silva, said in reply, believing I had somehow managed to fall asleep. I could feel the pressure of their gaze upon me.

  “We have only just succeeded in convincing her to return,” my brother whispered. Damon had many talents, but holding his tongue was never one of them. “Now sister’s letter says that beast will also return to London this season.”

  They were speaking of him. Rather than betray any inner workings of my mind or heart, I kept my eyes closed.

  “It is to be expected. Does he not have a sister due to come out as well?” Silva asked.

  It was to be expected. As our sister Hathor and his sister, Verity, had now come of age, at eighteen.

  “I may have forgotten, but surely our mother did not. She should have instructed Hathor to wait another year to spare us the reopening of this wound.”

  How unfair that would have been to Hathor.

  “Do you believe she did not know? The duke is a widower now,” Silva said.

  “After the disgrace and humiliation he delivered to my family? He does not deserve even the poorest of women, let alone my sister. I will never allow it.”

  “It is not you who would be called to allow it but your father. And should your mother wish it, your father will allow it.”

  The sound that came from his chest was one of evident frustration. Again, his wife was right.

  “If my mother arranged this on purpose…” He sighed heavily. “I am at a loss as to the state of her mind. How could she possibly forgive him?”

  “Is she not his godmother?”

  “Is my sister not her daughter?” he retorted angrily.

  “Calm, my dear.”

  Once more, they were silent and undoubtedly examining me to see if I had awakened. But I had become proficient in the art of feigning sleep. It was all in the breathing.

  “He may be her godson, and his
mother may have been her very best friend, but surely none of that can overcome the love of a mother for her daughter.” He spoke resolutely, so it was only natural that his wife agreed.

  “Then, by your reasoning, it cannot have been done on purpose, so you can spare your jaw any further tension,” Silva replied. The soft laughter between them nearly made me break my act, as I wished to smile alongside them.

  My brother Damon, though kind and sweet to his family, had had the reputation of a rake in society before he wed the young Miss Silva Farbridge, the only daughter of a baron. It came as a surprise to everyone, even my mother, who had an eye for these things. The many women he’d had dalliances with were rumored to be very handsome indeed. Miss Silva Farbridge, however, was thought to be quite plain. She, a lady he had seemingly overlooked, and he, a lord that all were sure she did not like, until a few weeks ago when they became beside themselves in love. I was unaware of what had brought this love to fruition, and the two of them held that secret close. The only explanation they offered anyone was simply that their previous encounters had been misunderstandings. No one asked anything more, and they were quickly married, though I was desperately curious.

  “Your sister is a great beauty. I am sure there will be callers in line at the door for her hand as well as Hathor’s,” Silva said.

  “Yes, it is good for her to return to London. My only fear is that she shall be led astray upon seeing him, and be hurt once more.”

  “It has been four years. You believe she still thinks of him?”

  “I do not know. Odite never lets any of us in on her true thoughts. The only thing we are all sure of is that she loved him. I can only pray that she has fully removed him from her heart.”

  There was no doubt in my mind that my brother would do anything for me. Not just him, but my father, my mother, and my other siblings as well. They all loved and cared for me so very much and I wished not to worry them, but my thoughts would either shock them or cause them unease.

  Often, I felt as though I were a rare and precious bird, trapped within a cage of gold, on exhibition for the world. It was my duty to appease my viewers, and truly, I did my best, but there were times when it was all so arduous. I wished to be free. And the only time in my memory I had felt such freedom was in my youth…with him, Evander.

  Since my mother was his godmother, we were afforded many opportunities to speak with each other growing up. He frequented our home freely, though our encounters always took place under the watchful eyes of my governess or lady’s maids. Evander had the keen ability to see through all my acts. When my sisters had all but driven me mad, and I said nothing, allowing them their way, he knew I cursed them in my mind, and would walk by and say the curse for me to hear. When I wished to eat more at the table than what was becoming of a young lady, he would secretly have a dessert saved and left for me in my rooms. Books that had been withheld from ladies or amended for decency, he would lend me in the full version.

  And when I was sixteen, he made me this one promise: When we are married, you will be free to be however you wish to be. I swear it.

  I had stared at him in awe and wished to marry him right then. But my family would not allow it. My mother said I was still far too young, despite knowing others my age who had married. We were of two great and noble houses, so all things had to be done in order and with the utmost care. She believed I must wait until the opportune time. I did not think it would be a whole two years later. But once my mother was determined, there was no winning against her. I was mightily cross with her.

  But finally, on the day of my coming out, as everyone else fluttered about nervous at being before the queen, I was calm. It was said that I looked like royalty and had been trained as such all my life. The truth of the matter was that my thoughts and emotions were elsewhere—on a future that I had assumed would begin with him. Several gentlemen called upon me the day after, but I gave no heed to any of them as I waited only for him.

  I waited in my very best dress.

  I waited until the sun went down, and my mother forced me to bed. The very next day, I waited again. For five days, I waited, confident that whatever held him would soon end, and he would appear before me. Until the sixth day came, and we got word of a wedding.

  His wedding.

  Taken aback and confused, I did not speak or eat that entire day. It was only when it had long been dark that agony ripped through me. I should have gone into the garden. I should have held my hands over my mouth. But all of me hurt so deeply and thoroughly that when I sobbed, it was as if I were dying. The sound of my grief woke the whole house. My mother stayed with me, which was wise, for I soon collapsed.

  We returned to our country estate immediately to avoid the talk of the ton. I wished to never return to London, for it was the place where my dreams had died. When my family went down for the season, I always remained at Belclere Castle. Until now.

  I wanted to refuse their demand that I return, but then my brother reminded me that my sister Hathor would have her special day ruined, as the talk would be unbearable.

  I believed it would be unbearable either way. My return would cause a stir. My absence would also cause a stir, but at least in my absence, I could pretend to be ignorant of it. However, that would be selfish. And I had been selfish for four years, allowing my mother and sisters to face the ton without me.

  All agreed it was time for me to move on, even me. But on to what?

  I opened my eyes to the greenery of the world outside.

  “And here I thought you intended to sleep the whole way,” my brother said.

  “Forgive me, brother. Have I missed anything of interest?” When my gaze fell to him, there was a soft yet woeful smile on his face, as if I were a wounded animal that needed the lightest care.

  “Of course not. I only jest. Though I do wonder how you manage to sleep with this jostling,” he replied just as the carriage shook violently. “Gently!” he called out to our driver.

  “Beg your pardon, my lord. The road is not good this season,” he replied.

  “Then why on earth did he take this road?” Damon frowned, looking at his wife, who just gave him a slight glance, but it was enough for him to hold his tongue.

  “London fashion has changed since you were here last, Aphrodite. We must go to the modiste together to get you new dresses,” Silva said. I was not sure if it was the musings of my imagination, but she always seemed to become more rigid when she spoke to me. Perhaps she was still not accustomed to being part of our family.

  “We are sisters now. You may call me Odite or Dite if you prefer,” I replied. “And yes, I will accompany you to the modiste, though I do not believe I will be in want of any dresses. I am sure my mother is more than prepared.”

  “Hmm.” Damon chuckled, nodding in agreement before looking at his wife. “Knowing our mother, the modiste is already in our home, awaiting our arrival.”

  “I fear Mother will not be pleased with how big I have gotten,” I said.

  “Forgive me, but big where?” Silva laughed, her brown eyes looking me over.

  “Her imagination.” Damon laughed along with her. “Sister, you must not aim to fit Mother’s standards of beauty. They do not exist in this world. You now embody the dream of almost all young ladies everywhere.”

  “He is right.” Silva let out a deep breath. “If you are self-deprecating, what hope is there for the rest of us mere mortals?”

  “You both hold me in too high regard,” I said. I did not seek to be self-deprecating, nor did I believe there was anything wrong with me. But my brother was correct—our mother’s standards were not achievable. She remained more unnerved by my aging than I did. The slightest growth or change in my appearance would not escape her eye.

  “Odite, you are a Du Bell. High regard is the standard to which you are meant to be held.” Damon nodded as if his words were gospel. To him, I was su
re they were. “Worry not, sister. Truly, I believe this season shall be one you will not forget. So long as you allow yourself to enjoy it.”

  “Of course.” It was all I could bring myself to say in return, as I shifted my gaze to the trees and blue sky above. Then, without notice, the whole carriage shook with such force we were jostled out of place.

  “By heavens! Driver!” Damon called out, grabbing hold of his wife.

  “Forgive me, my lord. There is an accident ahead!” the driver called back.

  “Oh dear,” Silva said as my brother checked out the window. “Is anyone hurt? Should we stop?”

  “Drive on!” My brother’s voice roared like thunder and his fist clenched in rage, leaving us both perplexed at the change in his demeanor.

  “Are you well?” I asked him.

  “Quite,” he grumbled and kept his head high. “Do not look out the window. Women should not gaze upon such unsightly events.”

  “Unsightly?” Silva giggled and moved to see. “What could possibly—”

  “Silva,” he reprimanded, and she stilled. The carriage filled with silence, allowing us to hear the conversation outside.

  “Your Grace, are you well?” one voice questioned.

  “Yes.”

  My breath caught at the sound of that voice. It could not be.

  “Verity, are you injured?”

  That was as sure a confirmation as any. My brother’s gaze shifted to me, and I understood why he had shouted at the driver.

  Remain calm, I directed myself, lifting my head high and following Damon’s direction to not look out the window.