Page 101 of Duke with a Desire

Mother apparently believed that berating her eldest child as their dinner drew to a close was an excellent use of their time. Apollo could have told her otherwise. He could have also told her that his sister wouldn’t listen and that, furthermore, he didn’t expect her to do so.

But Aphrodite and Mother were two lionesses, each equally capable of drawing blood, and he was still desperately unsettled after seeing Phee earlier at tea, lost inside his own turbulent thoughts. He felt raw, like a bruise. Over the course of the last few hours, he had reached a conclusion that felt momentous. He didn’t just love Phee.

He couldn’t live without her.

And the topic of conversation his mother had presently raised was indeed prescient. Because he knew what he needed to do if he wanted Phee at his side and in his bed always. He had to make her his wife.

But first, he’d have to convince her that he was worth marrying.

Perhaps an insurmountable task, but one he intended to attempt with everything he had.

“I have thought about marriage,” Aphrodite said cheerfully, reaching for her glass of wine. “I’ve decided never to allow myself to be at the mercy of any man.”

He could only hope his sister kept these sorts of thoughts to herself and didn’t share them with Phee.

“Pish.” Mother waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Every woman must wed. It is a part of life.”

“No, she need not,” his sister corrected, before taking what he suspected was a fortifying sip of wine.

Mother tended to have that effect upon them both.

“You must have children. It is a woman’s greatest joy in life,” Mother pressed. “And to have children, you must first wed. This is the proper order of things.”

“I can think of greater joys than children of my own,” Aphrodite drawled. “Chocolates, for instance. Good books. A beautiful gown. A comfortable pair of boots…”

“Chocolates will not keep you company in your dotage,” Mother pointed out.

Her white hair was twisted into a chignon, and she wore the Prestwick rubies at her ears and throat. She was an elegant woman, the sort that might be called handsome rather than pretty. She had never been the kind of mother to take her children anywhere. He and Aphrodite had been nuisances to her, impediments to her social calendar. Mother and Phee couldn’t have been more different. How he admired Phee’s devotion to her son and daughter.

He would equally dedicate himself to them and their futures if she allowed it.

“Children may not keep one company in one’s dotage either,” Aphrodite countered smoothly. “Out of a sense of duty at first, perhaps, but even that can wane, given time and impetus.”

Impetus such as being informed she needed to marry, Apollo suspected grimly. But like it or not, Mother was their albatross. They endured her because she was their blood and, as such, their obligation.

“You and Prestwick are my two greatest joys,” Mother said. “But nothing would please me greater than seeing both of you happily wed with children of your own.”

Now he was somehow being pulled into the conversation when he wished to reside in his own ruminations, damn it all.

“We are your two greatest joys?” he asked mildly. “Consider me astonished. I rather thought your two greatest joys were your jewel collection and being invited to the most important balls.”

His mother gave him an accusatory look. “My son, you make me sound as if I am coldhearted. All I have ever wanted is what is best for my children. And what is best for the both of you is to marry. Aphrodite dear, Lady Hailstock’s son, Lord Gregory, is a very charming young man. As you know, Lady Hailstock is a bosom bow of mine, and the two of us think you would make a charming couple.”

“Pray don’t waste your time playing matchmaker for me, Mother,” Aphrodite said. “I have no interest in Lord George.”

“Lord Gregory,” Mother corrected in an affronted voice.

Aphrodite frowned. “I’m afraid your rose won’t smell sweet by any name. Apologies to Mr. Shakespeare.”

“Do you want to be a spinster?” Mother demanded, clearly growing agitated, for she was nodding prodigiously as she spoke, a habit she’d had for all his life when she was approaching high dudgeon. “I cannot truly think you do. Sometimes I think you say such wretched things just to spite me for leaving you alone with your nursemaids and governesses so much when you were a girl.”

“I want to remain unmarried. If that makes me a spinster, then so be it.” Aphrodite shrugged. “As for spiting you, I can assure you I have far more important concerns calling for my attention.”

“Aphrodite.” Mother clapped a hand over her heart. “All I want is your happiness.”

“Then you should accept that my happiness is remaining unmarried.” Aphrodite turned her attention to Apollo. “Unlike my brother, I don’t need to wed to satisfy some primitive need to keep the family line carrying on. Apollo must marry. I, however, can remain as I am, and I intend to do so.”

He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “Perhaps you have said enough for one evening, sister dear. I have no intention of marrying at the moment.”