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Do I really want to do this?

Ethan nodded. “Have my carriage prepared. I will be heading out in a while.”

He needed to get out. He needed to talk to someone.

Anyone.

“Daniel! I certainly hope you have enough of that excellent brandy of yours on hand, as I intend?—”

Ethan stopped right in his tracks when his friend shot him a deadly glare, and for a good reason. Seated on Daniel’s lap was none other than his wife, Evie, with a book in her hand. From the looks of it, the couple had been enjoying a book together when he unceremoniously barged in on them.

He felt his chest clench along with his hands at his sides, but he managed a smile at the scene.

“It seems I have disturbed something,” he croaked. “Is that a new book?”

Evie slid off her husband’s lap and shot him a disapproving look. “You really have not read your wife’s first novel yet?”

“My… what?” Ethan blinked in confusion.

The Duchess of Ashton rolled her eyes at him. “It has always been Phoebe’s dream to live off her own income, but did you really not know that she has written many stories? Now that she has the freedom to live as a spinster like she initially planned, she has decided it is high time to make that dream come true.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut.

How could he know? He had left her as soon as the day after their wedding because he could hardly keep his hands off of her.

“Darling, have a care for his feelings,” Daniel murmured to his wife. He plucked the book out of her hands and handed it to Ethan. “It is rather entertaining. Your wife is a particularly smart lady.”

“I know she is,” Ethan replied quickly. “But she isnota spinster.”

He latched onto the book as though it was a lifeline, while Evie pouted in protest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend nuzzle the side of her neck and press a soft kiss to it in apology.

He turned the book over in his hands almost reverently. Phoebe’s first book… He wondered what she would write about.

What sort of ideas did she hold in that beautiful head of hers? Did she write abouthim?

He almost laughed harshly to himself at that. How presumptuous did he have to be to think that she would write about him?

Still, he could not help but hope that he might have inspired her in some way…

“Oy! I want that back!” Evie called after him as he started walking away with the book.

“Do not worry, my love,” Daniel consoled her. “I shall buy you another one.”

“But I heard that all the copies had been sold out!”

Her husband smiled at her. “You know I can always get my hands on one.”

Evie wavered and then huffed. “I want it before supper.”

“And you shall have it,” he promised her. “Now, let me deal with our guest.”

“All right,” she relented, glaring at Ethan as she walked past him.

As soon as Evie had closed the door behind her, Daniel took out a bottle of the brandy Ethan had requested and two glasses. He set them on the table and regarded him with a penetrating gaze.

“I hope you did not interrupt my time with my wife for something trivial,” he warned. “Now, what is amiss? Why did you come barging in like the hounds of hell were snapping at your heels?”

“I did not even know she was a writer,” Ethan murmured.