Page 21 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 21

O ne should never make promises when one has no intention of keeping them.

These were the very same words that echoed in Phoebe’s head as Ethan very properly —with just the slightest scandalous caress of her inner wrist—helped her out of their carriage to escort her to the Harolds’ ball that night.

In fact, Phoebe could think of a dozen or more things she would much rather have been doing than submit herself to Ella’s hours-long ball preparation routine right before she submitted herself to the very public scrutiny of everyone who was eager to see the new Duchess of Sinclair—as if they had never seen her in their entire life.

“You look most displeased, Duchess.”

She cast a sideways glance at Ethan and almost immediately regretted it.

Tonight, he had donned a coat of midnight black that contrasted sharply with the crisp white linen of his shirt. From the folds of his immaculately arranged cravat, a ruby the size of a robin’s egg winked at her.

From there, it was only a short distance to his neck, his very masculine jaw, those sensual lips…

All while his thumb was teasingly running over the back of her hand, which had become increasingly sensitive, absolutely begging her to respond to his touch in kind.

She felt her body heat up, priming itself for something she only had a vague idea of.

Anticipating more of the same.

“I… do not truly care much for balls,” she admitted with a quiet sigh.

He raised an eyebrow. “They are dreadfully boring, are they not?”

Unfortunately so.

But it would be rude to say those words out loud, and Phoebe Barkley Audley was anything but rude.

She smiled helplessly at him. “It would be most unkind to say that.”

He made a sound that seemed dreadfully like a snort. Or a scoff. Or barely concealed disdain.

“You are my Duchess now. There is no need to worry about the trivial opinions of others.”

So you keep telling me.

But Ethan was a Wolf, and balls and the like were probably prime hunting grounds for him. He fit right in ballrooms the same way a predator would in his natural habitat.

“I see Evie over there,” she told him instead, pointing over to where her friend stood. “And wherever she is?—”

“—her husband cannot be too far behind,” Ethan finished for her. He looked at her with some concern. “Are you sure you will be all right? We can leave anytime you wish.”

She shook her head and smiled up at him. “I will be perfectly fine. At least I do not have to worry about making riveting conversation or filling up my dance card anymore,” she joked.

“Ah, yes. The most noble pursuit of any debutante worth the investment of her seasonal wardrobe.”

Phoebe shot him a warning look, but he merely smiled charmingly at her.

“Let me at least escort you to your friend before I find her husband,” he conceded with a slight chuckle.

He steered her smoothly through the crowd, her hand tucked safely in the crook of his elbow as they navigated the densely packed ballroom. She marveled as he cut through the crowd as easily as a hot knife would cut through butter, with some of them even casting adoring looks his way.

“Oh, Phoebe! There you are!” Evie smiled at her. “And you! It is very good that you have finally decided to show your face in public again!”

She cast Ethan a reproachful look as she clasped Phoebe’s hands in hers.

“I would think that husband of yours would be pleased to see less of me.” He grinned back at her. “Your brother, too, but he does not seem to be here.”

“Colin is tending to Alice, of course,” Evie replied with a wave of her hand. “Now, why don’t you find Daniel and keep him entertained for me while your Duchess and I have a nice little tour of the ballroom?”

She effectively shooed him away, and Ethan put up a charming protest before he turned and went off to find his friend amidst the crush.

“Your husband is a very challenging man.” Evie smiled at Phoebe as she looped her arm through hers.

“So is yours, I believe.”

Evie laughed. “Indeed, he is. They all are, I suppose, although I believe Alice has had greater success with my brother so far.”

“You will get no argument from me in that regard,” Phoebe drawled.

“But… you are well, are you not, Phoebe?” Evie pulled away from her and searched her face with a worried look. “All things considered?”

Phoebe frowned. “What do you mean?”

Evie sighed and led Phoebe over to a cluster of potted palms away from prying ears.

“There have been… rumors,” she told her. “About you and Sinclair.”

Phoebe frowned. “Me and Ethan?”

Her friend nodded with a solemn look. “They say that it has not even been three months, and already you are estranged.”

Estranged? Phoebe wanted to laugh at such a notion. How could they be estranged when there was nothing to even be estranged about?

“That is complete nonsense,” she said firmly.

Evie smiled. “And I agree with you on that one. One only has to simply take a look at Ethan to see that he is completely taken with you.”

Balderdash. Even greater nonsense.

“But what could possibly give them that idea?” Phoebe asked.

“Oh… I truly do not know, dearest,” Evie sighed. “You know how the ton is, always latching on to the latest piece of gossip. Most likely, it is due to the fact that ever since your wedding, Sinclair has not even spent one night under the same roof as you.”

That is because I told him to keep some distance between us!

Phoebe never thought that keeping one’s boundaries would make one the subject of gossip. The ton was simply getting more ridiculous as time passed.

“But Lady Althorp does not live with her husband,” she reasoned. “Neither does the Countess of Clifton or even Lady Werther.”

In fact, the ton was filled with a great many married couples who simply could not abide living under the same roof together. What was so intriguing about that?

“Yes, but well… you understand the circumstances of your wedding.” Evie bit her lower lip. “And there is the fact that Ethan put on quite a show about being so madly in love with you that he just had to obtain a special license to marry you posthaste. Now, they are saying that he has… moved on to his usual pursuits.”

Phoebe felt her blood run cold. And if she looked in the mirror, she might have turned green as well.

“Is Ethan aware of this?” she asked slowly.

Evie shook her head. “Not that I am aware of. If he is, I am sure that he would have done something about it—if he has not already. You know how he is.”

Did she, really?

Phoebe would admit to having a vague idea, at times—like when she knew he was being absolutely wicked—which was most of the time they were together. Not much guesswork in there.

But all the other times, Ethan was a complete enigma to her.

She did not know much about him, beyond his obvious want for her, and for the moment, she would have to trust that that would be enough.

“So, I see that you have emerged from your self-imposed solitude once more. Has that sensible wife of yours finally smacked some sense into you, or do you have other nefarious schemes up your sleeves?”

Daniel regarded him with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

Always with that knowing smirk.

His friend knew far too many things, but as usual, he was still inclined to say far less.

Ethan smiled at the dry amusement in his friend’s tone. “You wound me, Ash,” he claimed dramatically. “And here I thought we were friends.”

Daniel let out a soft snort. “I had thought for a moment that you were going to join Hudson in eschewing public affairs, but here you are.” He sized him up and smirked. “None the worse for wear, it would seem.”

“You are one to talk, Ashton.”

The two men shared a bout of quiet laughter, and each managed to snag a glass of wine from a passing waiter.

The first sip was enough to deter Ethan from taking any more. It was much too bland for his taste, as expected.

Daniel did not even bother to sniff his drink.

Most likely, the wine is just a prop , Ethan mused with some amusement.

Or perhaps he was merely keeping something in hand in case he ever needed to wield it. As a weapon . With Daniel, one could never be certain.

He watched as his friend’s eyes drifted to the other side of the ballroom, where Evie was walking with Phoebe, their arms linked in an obvious show of feminine camaraderie. Both women were smiling, but Daniel’s hand on his wineglass never seemed to relax.

“I suppose since you have made an appearance with Phoebe, you have already heard.”

Ethan nodded somberly. He might have kept to himself in his townhouse, but he was not ignorant.

Besides, with friends like Daniel, one was always kept informed about things that mattered, whether they liked it or not.

“Do you know where the rumors come from?” Ethan asked.

The Duke of Ash’s steely eyes glinted like flints of ice. “These ones seem to think they are smarter than most,” he said silkily. “They always do—until they get caught.”

“Do let me know once you have a definitive answer.”

Daniel nodded subtly, the gesture nigh imperceptible except to the ones who knew him best.

“When I have the names, make sure you tie up all loose ends,” he advised. “Some people never learn until they are taught a lesson they will never be able to recover from.”

The last part was said with a threatening tone.

Ethan laughed softly and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Do not worry. I have my ways of dealing with these things.”

“Then I shall leave it in your most capable hands.” Daniel smirked. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get back to my wife.”

Ethan could not help the wry smile that curved his lips as he watched his friend stalk over to where Evelyn stood with Phoebe and now, Scarlett.

Unlike Daniel, he had been raised amongst the ton. He knew how Society behaved more than anyone.

He also knew that above all things, what the ton feared the most was being ostracized. Cast out. In fact, many of his acquaintances would rather die than suffer ruination.

For most of the ton, he was the Duke of Sin. The most charming Wolf and therefore the most dangerous, as many a nervous mama might say.

But social manipulation was one heck of a skill and one that he employed with far greater ease than any of his friends.

That was something he could use to his full advantage.

If there were any who would scheme against Phoebe, he knew very well just how to make sure these cretins would never be able to show their faces in Society again.

Without even bothering to take another sip, he put his wine glass down on a nearby table. Lady Harold should get the message that the refreshments she served were not up to par.

Sometimes, you did not need to shed a drop of blood to completely obliterate someone, and that was what made him a true Wolf.