Page 114

Ethan spent the evening at his townhouse, and Phoebe spent the entire morning in the estate, nursing a wine-induced headache and being forced to imbibe the worst tonics known to mankind in her maid’s painstaking efforts to help her.

I do not think I will ever try any of Ella’s remedies again.

Nor would she touch anything of an alcoholic nature with a ten-foot pole. It simply was not worth the trouble of having to learn how to function as a human being again the next morning.

It was close to lunchtime when Phoebe was finally feeling well enough to summon Ella to help her dress. However, when she descended to the dining room, there was still no sign of her husband.

Not even a note or anything.

Her heart sank as she listlessly tried to eat something, but her stomach just seemed to churn at the very notion of food.

In the end, she absconded back to her favorite place in the entire estate with a new book that Alice had sent her a few days ago. Hopefully, it was not a love story, as her sister was morbidly fond of scandalous novels.

She cracked open the book and managed a slight smile as the scent of fresh pages assailed her beleaguered senses. There truly was no joy like reading a new book. It was like meeting a new friend for the very first time.

Or finding someone who simply spoke to her heart.

She had thought that Ethan would be the one person who could convince her to live a life outside of the written page, but alas! Placing her hopes on human beings never ended well for her.

There was no better company than a book, who would neither argue, disparage, or treat her with such distrust.

Nor will it stay away from me when I need it the most.

When she woke up, a book would be exactly where she placed it, and she would never have to wonder where it went at night.

But books will never give you the same pleasure as he does,a small voice in her head pointed out.Books cannot touch you the way he does.

“But books cannot give me the same immeasurable heartache he has as well,” she grumbled.

She settled on the couch and got as far as the fifth page when the door to the study suddenly burst open.

“Ethan!” she exclaimed, sitting up.

He looked at her irately. “So, you still remember your husband?”

Phoebe glowered at him. “I do. Do you remember your wife?”

“Most certainly,” he replied, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “Which is precisely the reason why I brought you this.”

He tossed that morning’s scandal sheet to her, and she scrambled to catch it.

Really, he could not even just hand it to her properly?

The odds of their conversation being a productive one were dwindling by the minute as her temper rose in equal measure.

“Read it,” he urged her. “And then, tell me what you think.”

It has come to this Author’s attention that the union between the Duke and Duchess of S. may not be as romantic as we all presumed it to be, it read.In fact, there may be more to this sordid tale than immediately meets the eye…

The rest of the pamphlet dove into a dramatic detailing of how the poor Miss M. D. was robbed not only of her fiancé but also the father of her child by the scheming and conniving Lady P., who was once betrothed to Lord D.

Three guesses as to who the characters were.

As it turned out, Lord D. had been suffering from significant financial woes brought about by a combination of ill-advised investments and a nasty gambling addiction. Lady P., in an effort to save her beloved from financial ruin, volunteered to disrupt the wedding and marry the Duke of S. with every intention of siphoning her newly acquired wealth to her lover.

It was absolutely ridiculous and the kind of thing the ton loved to read the most. Romance, intrigue, and a lot of unnecessarydrama.

“You… certainly you do not believe this?” Phoebe scoffed, tossing the paper aside as she looked up at Ethan. “Do you?”