Page 15 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 15

H e was going out of his mind.

That was the only explanation for why he had been pacing in his study in his townhouse for the better part of an hour, looking like an absolute lunatic.

Huxley had long given up on trying to dress him appropriately, as aside from his secretary and the occasional visit from his concerned friends, Ethan had not even bothered to see other living souls beyond his residence.

And in all that time, he had not heard from Phoebe.

Not even once.

He groaned in frustration as he raked his hand through his already disheveled hair.

He had, however, heard a great deal about her.

It seemed that his beloved wife was greatly enjoying her newfound freedom, attending balls and routs and going for rides and promenades.

Phoebe was practically everywhere in London, except with him.

It was enough to drive any sane man to madness.

A slight knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts in a way very much like the jarring experience of running into a bloody wall. When Huxley opened the door, he shot his poor valet a withering glare.

“Will Your Grace be attending the Finch ball tonight?”

Ethan only continued to glare at him coldly.

His valet was well aware that he did not particularly like the Baron Finch—nor did he appreciate his buxom Baroness’s inappropriate advances.

Even just thinking about it made his gut churn savagely.

To his credit, Huxley did not even look the slightest bit affected. He simply bowed and moved to close the door, when Ethan called out, “Stop.”

“Do you need anything, Your Grace?”

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 is not a 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 about him ?

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.

“Women can be a great many things,” Daniel told him and handed him a glass of brandy. “But you already know that.”

Ethan grimaced as he accepted the glass and drank the liquid inside, relishing the slight burn as it slid down his throat. At least it made him feel something other than the torment of unsatisfied desires.

“I have been… having some issues,” he finally confessed.

Daniel did not say anything, merely arching an eyebrow in a bid for him to explain precisely what he meant by that.

“I do not want to hunt any longer.” The next words tumbled out of Ethan in a rush. “The ladies who try to seduce me all annoy me. I have not even been with a woman for a long time!”

Daniel regarded him with a pitying look. “By chance, did this occur ever since your wedding night?”

“No,” Ethan muttered in disgust. “Long before that.”

“Strange, indeed,” Daniel murmured, stroking his chin contemplatively. He looked knowingly at him. “Is there a specific lady responsible for your current, ah, affliction?”

Almost immediately, the image of lush, golden hair and vibrant green eyes flecked with gold flashed before Ethan’s very eyes. Lips like a summer rose in bloom, parted slightly in an invitation for a kiss…

“I can see that there is.” Daniel smiled in satisfaction.

“I just cannot stop thinking about her!” Ethan burst out. “And her? Why, she is enjoying her life as a spinster —whatever that is supposed to mean, for God’s sake! Promenading about and going to the publisher. How was I supposed to know she intended to publish her own book?”

“For a man who had shut himself in his residence for the better part of a month, you sound like you have been keeping an eye on her.” His friend smirked.

Ethan threw his hands up in frustration. “I have kept in mind that she is my wife, while she seems to have conveniently forgotten that fact!”

Daniel did not even bother pretending to commiserate with him as he poured him another glass. “I do not see what you are complaining about,” he pointed out drolly. “ You left her. A month ago, to be precise.”

Ethan sank into the chair in front of his friend’s desk, groaning. “She wants something I cannot give her—for her own good.”

“Did you come to this conclusion on your own, or did you ask for her opinion on this before deciding to do this for her own good ?”

There were times when Ethan appreciated his friend’s cool rationality. Daniel possessed the unique ability to see the heart of the matter almost immediately. Unfortunately, that also meant that he had no patience for talking around in circles.

“I thought that she would come to realize it on her own,” Ethan sighed. “But to completely forget about me?”

Daniel’s reply was a flash of a grin. “Then perhaps you should remind her.”

Ethan shook his head inwardly at that.

Remind her? Of what exactly? She was more likely to launch the book at his head if he attempted to seduce her again!

No, Phoebe was exceptionally stubborn. He knew that she would never compromise herself, and it was one of the qualities he admired in her.

Much later, after several more glasses of brandy, Daniel finally sent him on his way.

Actually, his friend all but kicked him out of his estate, as one of his men had acquired a copy of the book that Evie wanted and he intended to spend the rest of the evening with his wife.

Ethan grimaced as the door to his carriage closed after him. “To the townhouse, Edwards.”

“Right away, Your Grace.”

He turned the book over in his hands as the carriage slowly ambled on the way back to the townhouse. Out of curiosity, he opened the book, eager to find what his darling Duchess had written about.

The first few sentences intrigued him, and halfway through the journey back to his current residence, he changed his mind.

He rapped on the wall by the coachman’s ear and barked, “I changed my mind, Edwards. We are heading back to Sinclair Estate.”

Fewer things in life were as wonderful as a good book and a cup of excellent tea to go with it. Add in an exceptionally cozy sofa and Phoebe was all set for the night.

As it stood, she soon discovered in Ethan’s absence that there was no better reading nook in the entire estate than her husband’s study. Thus, it was where she frequently found herself ensconced with a book and a cup of tea before she retired for the night.

“Will you be needing anything more, Your Grace?” her maid asked her.

Phoebe shook her head and smiled. “No, thank you. You may go.”

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

She sighed as she returned to the last page she had been reading. Even after a month of marriage to Ethan, she still had not gotten used to people referring to her as ‘Her Grace’ or ‘the Duchess of Sinclair.’

It did not quite have the same thrill when Ethan teasingly called her his Duchess.

She frowned and took a sip of her tea. Why was she thinking about that scoundrel on a nice night like this? For all she knew, he probably could not be bothered to remember that he had a wife , occupied as he was with his mistresses…

Incensed, Phoebe set her cup down with more force and turned back to her book, when the door suddenly flew open and she let out a slight scream.

Standing in the doorway was none other than her wayward husband, his blue eyes narrowed as he watched her lounging on his sofa.

His lips curled into that familiar smirk that had her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings against her ribcage.

“It looks like you have been busy in my absence, wife .”