Page 20 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 20

P hoebe was convinced that while there were a great many things that plagued the world, unannounced visitors were, by far, one of the worst—if not the worst of them all.

Solidly in the top ten, she would say.

However, one always made concessions for one’s closest friends, and that was how she found herself in the parlor that afternoon when Scarlett decided to call on her.

“I could not get out of the estate fast enough,” the redhead declared as she breathlessly fanned herself. “With you wed, Mama has been urging me to tread down the matrimonial aisle as well. She feels that I have not been putting enough effort into finding a husband.”

Phoebe gave her a slight smile as she sipped at her tea. “Well, she should not worry on that account. You are beautiful, vivacious, and accomplished. Any gentleman would want to marry you.”

“And that is the problem,” Scarlett groaned in abject misery. “There have been a great many callers, yes, but I do not like any of them.”

“One of them must have certainly caught your interest.”

“Only in the worst possible way.” Scarlett gave a delicate shudder as she reached for a scone. “In very much the same manner one might find a cockroach interesting just before you step on it.”

Phoebe nearly choked on her tea. “Cockroaches are not the least bit interesting at all,” she said.

Disgusting, perhaps, was the word her friend meant to use. With Scarlett, however, one was never too sure.

“At this point, Mama feels that nothing is off the table—scandal included.”

“Must I remind you that I was wed under scandalous circumstances,” Phoebe pointed out with a wry smile. “I do not think your mama actually intends for you to follow in my footsteps.”

Scarlett regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “I do believe that most satisfactory marriages—yours included—had a degree of scandal attached to them. Alice’s certainly was, and let us not forget Evie’s.”

While it was true that Alice and Evie had not had conventional courtships, none of them had ever crashed a wedding to declare their undying admiration for the groom before a rapt audience of a hundred or so people.

Only Phoebe had been mad enough to do such a thing.

Scarlett’s mama should be telling her daughter to steer clear of Phoebe, not encourage the same behavior.

Besides, no one of consequence was getting married nowadays. Scarlett’s mama would have to be disappointed for quite some time.

“Speaking of scandal,” Scarlett added. “There have been rumors circling about lately.”

“Rumors?”

The redhead nodded and leaned forward to whisper, “They say that the Baron Latimer and his family would be returning to the city soon enough.”

Phoebe looked at her in slight surprise. “Is it not a bit too soon?”

“Exactly,” Scarlett hissed. She looked around her and added, “The scandal has hardly died down, but now, everyone is talking about the Duke living in his townhouse for the past month or so. You can be sure that Miss Delaney will be up to no good if she does return.”

If there was anyone who would revel in Phoebe’s misfortune, it would be Miss Delaney, who lost everything when her plans went awry due to her interference.

But even then, Phoebe had heard clearly that the young woman was with child . In a few months or so, it would be nearly impossible to hide her condition.

Unless she does not mean to hide it at all .

Phoebe took a deep breath and managed a slight smile. “Well, there are rumors flying about every single day, and hardly any of them can be believed to be true. If Miss Delaney does intend to return to the city?—”

“Then she should conduct herself in a manner above reproach,” a cold, steely voice finished the sentence for her.

Phoebe’s head swiveled to the doorway to find Ethan strolling into the parlor, a calm smile on his face. He immediately made his way to her and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You need not worry about her, sweetheart,” he reassured her. “I doubt she is stupid enough to go around seeking trouble.”

“I am not the least bit worried,” Phoebe protested.

“Then I am pleased by your confidence in your husband .”

She shot him a glare. Truly, the man was incorrigible. Could he not see that Scarlett was right there in front of them?

“You may rest assured, Lady Scarlett.” He turned to her friend. “Phoebe shall be safe with me.”

The subtle threat in his voice, the implied protectiveness in his tone… all of it made a warm feeling radiate from her chest and rush to her fingertips and toes.

Scarlett, however, did not look too convinced. The redhead crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you certain, Your Grace?” she asked him. “We are all rather protective of Phoebe, the two Duchesses and I.”

Amongst the ton, Alice and Evie were known as the two Duchesses. Adding herself to the mix made it a triple threat.

Not that it mattered to Ethan, though.

He simply gave her a lethal smile. “What a coincidence—so am I.”

Almost instantly, the haughty coldness in Scarlett’s expression seemed to dissipate, and she smiled warmly up at him.

“I am glad we can agree on that, Your Grace,” she said. She stood up and smoothed her skirts. “Now, I have the Harolds’ ball to prepare for, and I trust that you two lovebirds have a great deal to discuss.”

“Well, not really. We—” Phoebe began to stand up, but Ethan was quicker.

“It was a pleasure seeing you today, My Lady.” He bowed his head politely to her friend.

“Likewise, Your Grace.” Scarlett smiled flutteringly. “Although I think you would find it more pleasurable if I restricted my visits, yes?”

“I do so enjoy afternoon tea with my Duchess. Alone.”

“I shall take note of that.” The redhead chuckled. She smiled knowingly at Phoebe before sweeping out of the room with her usual aplomb.

“Your friend is a very smart woman,” Ethan remarked after Scarlett had left. He raised an eyebrow and added, “Very bold, too, to threaten me in my own home.”

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. “They still think me a little girl to be coddled and protected.”

“To be coddled and protected and spoiled to an inch of your life, yes,” Ethan replied. “A little girl? I would beg to differ.”

His eyes ran from her hair down to the rest of her in appreciative appraisal. His eyes darkened as his lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Most definitely a woman,” he purred.

Phoebe felt her face heat up, even as the rest of her tingled at his words.

A woman, indeed.

With womanly desires.

And he knew just how to stoke the banked fires with expert ease.

She felt herself choking at the thought of him stoking… other things. Immediately, she sat down, turning away from him as he let out a deep, throaty chuckle and took the seat opposite her.

As if he had summoned them by some sort of magic, one of the servants came and cleared away Scarlett’s cup and saucer and brought out a fresh set for him.

As Phoebe sipped her tea, a red box with fancy gilt designs slid into her view. It looked to be a confectioner’s box, but it did not bear any establishment’s name upon it.

She set her cup down and tilted her head slightly to the side, her curiosity instantly piqued.

Truthfully, she had never tried a sweet she did not like, and in the past few days, Ethan had taken to bringing her favorite pastries and sweets over for tea.

“What is this?” she asked him curiously.

His mysterious smile had her heart fluttering in her chest. “Something new. I heard you liked chocolate.”

Well, who did not? Chocolate was God’s gift to mankind.

She opened the box hesitantly and sighed when she saw the little blocks nestled inside, arranged in neat rows. Even from where she sat, it smelled heavenly, and she could almost imagine that decadent sweet coating her tongue.

“Can I have one?” she asked him, her fingers itching to pluck those little blocks one by one and pop them into her mouth.

“Most certainly. Have all of them, if you wish.”

She sniffed. “I am not such a glutton, you know.”

Except that she was. She could finish a whole box of sweets in the space of a breath, but he did not need to know that.

She daintily picked one of the blocks and placed it into her mouth. Immediately, her eyes closed in absolute rapture, and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

Oh my goodness, it’s absolutely delicious!

The rich bitterness, tempered by the mellowness of milk and the sweetness of sugar, coated her tongue and set her senses dancing. It was wickedness in a little block. It was?—

Her eyes flew open in surprise.

Only to meet Ethan’s hungry gaze.

“If I had known this was how you would react to chocolate-covered candied fruit…” he growled.

Almost immediately, Phoebe scrambled for the box and covered it with her hands. “You are not taking these away!”

Ethan looked at her in shock, before bursting into laughter.

“Sweetheart, they are all yours,” he reassured her. “I do not have much taste for chocolate.”

“Why? Chocolate must be man’s finest invention!”

“What about the wheel? The printing press?” he challenged her with a teasing grin.

“Well, those are important, too, I suppose,” she huffed. “But not as nearly as pleasurable as eating a box of chocolates, I assure you.”

“Oh, I assure you that just looking at you enjoying them brings me great pleasure indeed…”

Phoebe rolled her eyes at him. “Spoken like a true rake.”

She popped another piece of chocolate in her mouth and smiled in satisfaction as the tanginess of summer-ripe peaches mingled with the dark decadence.

“You, Your Grace, have a silver tongue.”

“Which could be put to better use pleasuring you, sweetheart,” he coaxed with an impenitent grin. “Imagine all the things I could do to you…”

He could not mean that ? —

As her thoughts spun in scandalous chaos, she felt the familiar ache blooming between her legs. Felt every single one of her senses heightened, becoming keenly aware of him as he looked at her like she was the chocolate.

How could a man arouse her so easily with mere words alone?

It was madness. Total insanity.

And she was reveling in every moment of it.

“This… this is…” she stammered. “This is not…”

“This is not what, Duchess?” he purred.

Her eyes dropped to the finger he used to trace the rim of his teacup, and her chest seemed to swell with the breath trapped within it. That simple gesture seemed much too intimate, hinting at all the wicked, devastating things his touch would bring.

If she would let him.

Say yes, his eyes seemed to tell her. Say yes and we can dispense with tea and chocolates and niceties.

Say yes and we can throw pretense out the window.

Say yes and…

Her heart twinged in her chest, aching.

“This is not proper etiquette,” she finished weakly.

None of it was—not their verbal exchanges or the way he seemed to undress her with his eyes and his words.

And then what?

To hell with etiquette.

He was crazed with lust. Aroused beyond belief.

There was nothing he wanted more than to slide his aching cock into her sweet channel.

Even just thinking about it had him suppressing a groan.

And here she was, lecturing him on etiquette of all things.

Very well then. It would have to be a groan of frustration—one of the many he had kept from bubbling forth during each encounter.

“I suppose this is hardly an appropriate topic to discuss over tea,” he managed huskily.

She nodded emphatically.

Then perhaps we should dispense with tea altogether , he wanted to tell her. We can take this discourse further upstairs in my bed.

Instead, he stood up and straightened his jacket as he gave her a tight smile.

“You are right,” he told her. “You need to prepare for the ball tonight. I shall come fetch you later.”

She looked up at him, pleasant surprise clear on her face.

“You will come with me?” she asked him, her voice breathy.

“Of course,” he told her and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

It was the only thing he could allow himself. Even then, the feel of her smooth skin, her warmth on his lips, nearly proved to be his undoing.

Later, when he managed to make it to his carriage despite his painful erection, he could only grit his teeth and close his eyes.

One step at a time .

He only prayed he would be able to last for an entire night without dragging her into some darkened nook in the gardens.

Or an empty powder room.

Once more, he groaned as he rubbed a hand over his face.

Whoever thought that wooing a woman he was already married to could be this hard?