Page 79
Story: A Bride for the Duke of Sin
“When was I never in good spirits?” Phoebe mumbled as she washed her face and her hands. “Really, Ella. You exaggerate sometimes.”
“Well, you are not ill-tempered at all,” the maid teased her. “But you were not given to such cheerfulness in the mornings either, especially after a ball.”
Phoebe paused as she reached for her towel.
Indeed, her days before marriage—and even soon after—seemed to blend together, becoming an endless blur of routs and picnics and tea parties and balls.
She rarely found any true excitement in any of them.
Well, except for that house party the Dowager Countess of Wellington held last year at Fitzroy Hall. She had felt the thrill of competition in the treasure hunt.
Or maybe it was simply because you were partnered up withhim.
A soft warmth spread across her cheeks as she wiped the dampness from her face.
“Quit teasing me and help me get dressed,” she told the maid with an eye roll. “What time is it already? Is it too late for luncheon?”
“Not so much, Your Grace,” Ella replied as she deftly ran a brush through Phoebe’s lustrous waves.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Phoebe moaned, covering her face with her hands. “I should have been up an hour ago, at least!”
“Well, His Grace told us not to disturb you…”
She looked up at her maid. “His Grace… came by already?”
Ella nodded as she artfully arranged coils of her hair into a seemingly simple yet elegant chignon at her nape, emphasizingthe graceful column of her neck, before adding a few pearl-studded pins to set it off.
“His Grace also said that he would not be able to come by for afternoon tea and sends his apologies,” she told Phoebe. “But that you may also invite Lady Scarlett and the Duchess of Ashton over in his stead.”
Phoebe resisted the urge to sulk like a sullen child. It was most unbecoming of a duchess.
“It does not matter,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I have a great many things to do today…”
Like moping around in my rooms.
“… I still need to finish writing my book…”
And hope that I will be able to make progress in this state.
“And there is simply too much to be done around the house,” she finished with a firm nod of her head. “So, really… it is a blessing that he chose not to come today!”
Inwardly, she was seething like a pot set to boil.
She was tempted to march over to his townhouse and demand why he was missing out on afternoon tea today.
But a proper lady never demanded such things of her husband, and if he wanted to have a day free of her… Well then, she would enjoy it just as well on her own, too!
I am not getting anything done at all today!
Phoebe let out a soft groan and buried her face in her folded arms.
She had spent the last hour staring at empty pages, and the only words she ever wrote wereEthan Audley, the Duke of Sinclair.
Right beside her name,Phoebe Barkley Audley, the Duchess of Sinclair.
And right between their two names, a laughable doodle of a heart.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen!
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