Page 47
Story: A Bride for the Duke of Sin
“Yes, sweetheart. Tonight.”
“Oh.”
It was getting very hard to ignore the crestfallen look on her face—which was why he had to leave quickly.
“Do write to me if you ever need anything,” he told her with his best imitation of a nonchalant smile. “Be it a sofa for your library, or gowns and jewels—anything at all.”
She turned around and looked up at him with a frown. “But when will you come back?”
There was a plaintive note in her voice and a slight pout that was beginning to form on her lips.
Ethan laughed at himself inwardly. He was tempted—oh so tempted—to believe that she was disappointed at the thought of him leaving.
A man could dream.
He lightly tapped her chin. “Now, that is not entirely up to me, Duchess.”
He pressed another soft kiss to her temple. He could not resist it, and she did not protest.
“I hope to hear from you soon, sweetheart,” he murmured huskily in her ear.
And then, before he could be tempted to retract his words or do something he would ultimately regret, Ethan turned away and walked out of his rooms, calling for Huxley.
Phoebe was in a state of confusion.
Only moments ago, she had felt herself shatter from the sheer pleasure overwhelming her senses.
And then, Ethan took her to his rooms and gently helped her clean up.
And now, he was gone.
Well, he was not reallygone—it was only to his townhouse and still very much London. It was not like he was running to the other side of the world, eager to put some distance between them.
She should be happy, really. Husbands rarely took into account the desires of their wives. It was already admirable that he restrained himself from consummating their marriage when she requested it.
That he should respect the rules she had put in place for their relationship was rather staggering.
Despite his rakish ways, Ethan was proving to be a most amenable husband.
But his townhouse? Did that mean that he was going back to his usual ways?Or his mistresses?
Phoebe frowned. She set the hairbrush down on the smooth, polished wood of the vanity with far more force than she had intended.
As far as the other ladies of the ton were concerned, he was already being quite considerate. After all, a man had hisneeds, as they often said, and if Phoebe was determined to hold true to her word that she would not surrender her body to him without love, then he had to get those needs metelsewhere.
It was simply the way of the world. Why did she feel so bothered by it?
“Well now, Phoebe,” she sighed bitterly to herself. “You have gone and done it. You have married a man who is willing to let you live the carefree life of a spinster that you had always wanted, and who is willing to foot the bill at that. What are you so anxious about now?”
She picked up the brush and ran it a bit more forcefully through her damp hair, wincing when it caught in a particularly tight knot.
With Ethan out of her hair, literally, she would have all her time to herself. She would not have to worry about catering to the needs of her husband. She could even go out and have the entire estate fitted according to her tastes.
She was not going to mope about like some tragic heroine in a lonely castle.
She was going to enjoy her newfound freedom and do whatever her heart desired!
CHAPTER 14
Table of Contents
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- Page 47 (Reading here)
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