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“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 notbe.
“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.
But the fact that our paths had already crossed when we had not even entered London yet was unsettling. Even worse was how my ears strained to hear his voice as we moved farther away from him.
Plato said love was a grave mental disease, and I feared returning to London would make me realize I was still quite ill.
2
Aphrodite
“Odite!” my younger brother called as he ran toward me.
Immediately, my arms opened and braced for the impact of his small body, though it was not as small as I remembered.
“Oh, Hector.” I laughed, squeezing him tightly. “Look at you. From where did this height come?”
“From his father, of course,” replied the deep and jubilant voice of my papa. He joined us in the foyer, with a book in one of his hands, as always.
“Papa.” I smiled and let go of my brother to embrace my father, hugging him tightly as if I were the child of twelve rather than Hector.
“We have missed you, my dearest,” he replied and kissed the side of my head before stepping back to look me over. A smile spread across his white face. “A vision. More and more, you take after your mother. One would think I had nothing to do with the creation of you.”
“Then one would not know me, Papa, for are we not alike in mind?”
“That we are. Thus, I have this,” he replied, lifting the book so I could see. “It was very well received last winter, and I could think of no one else who would truly appreciate it.”
It was in German, but the title roughly translated to Children’s and Household Tales, by the Brothers Grimm. What a strange name. It was true I dearly loved to read, no matter the language, but the books that enticed me would not be given to a daughter by her father, nor would they have the word children’s anywhere upon the cover. Nevertheless, his joy in giving me the gift increased my joy in receiving it.
“Thank you, Papa. I shall begin this very night—”
“You shall not!” her voice bellowed and caused both my father and me to stand ready.
Upon turning, I was met with the fiercest of women, dressed in the richest of purples and all other finery, her skin a deep and warm brown like mine and Damon’s. Her dark, curly hair was pinned up and away from her face.
