Page 35 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 35

S eated in his chair with a new glass of brandy, freshly washed, shaven, and immaculately dressed, Ethan had never felt a more intense need to plant his fist in someone’s face at that moment—particularly the Viscount Dexford’s.

Has the man no redeemable qualities at all?

According to Daniel, he did not, which was just as well because Ethan was not planning to give him any quarter after everything his friend had told him.

“When looking for these sorts of things, answers can most often be found in less reputable establishments,” Daniel told him with a wry smile. “Imagine my surprise when I found a familiar name coming up in my businesses all over the city.”

Most gentlemen would never openly admit to owning a gambling hell, but Daniel was not most men. Unlike Ethan and the other Wolves, he had not grown up with the privilege of a title and was more familiar with the dark underbelly of London.

Gambling hells, whorehouses… he knew them all. Once he had acquired enough funds, he opened his own as well.

“From there, it took very little effort,” he continued. His eyes flicked up to Ethan’s. “The man has nothing to his name. He is barely hanging onto his current estate. He owes everyone we know money. Hell, he even owes me money.”

Ethan sucked in a harsh breath. “That means that his betrothal with Phoebe?—”

“Was most probably for her dowry. The man barely has anything to rub together. Certainly not money.” Daniel raised the glass of brandy to his lips. “He is very good at hiding it, though. If you do not look too closely, you would hardly be able to tell.”

“But you saw right through him?”

Daniel flashed him a grin over his glass. “Desperation has a certain scent that I am most familiar with.” He set his glass down and stood up. “What you do with this information is up to you. My wife cautions you to plan your next steps carefully, though—they are not too pleased with you.”

I can only imagine …

“I know.” Ethan winced. “I am not too pleased with myself either.”

“A word of advice, then, if you will—catch him with his own words. Vermin like him are more likely to gloat once they think they have won.”

“He has not,” Ethan growled.

His friend shrugged his broad shoulders. “Not yet, at least. It all depends on what you do next.”

Much later, after Daniel had left him alone to his thoughts, Ethan finally got up from his desk and rang for Morton.

“Prepare the carriage,” he instructed.

He swore he saw the butler’s eyes light up. “Will you be fetching the Duchess, Your Grace?”

Ethan shot the man a warning look, but Morton did not even flinch.

Barely a quarter of a year as a duchess and she already has the loyalty of the servants …

But what was so unusual about that? Phoebe had even captured his heart, which presumably ceased to exist a long time ago.

She simply had a talent for making the impossible very much possible.

Ethan could not help but smile with pride when he thought of her once more.

“I will do my best, Morton,” he promised. “But before that, I will need to take care of some things first.”

His first stop was, of course, Dexford House, that sprawling, ostentatious piece of property that was the residence of none other than the Viscount Dexford.

As he passed through the wrought iron gates, he could not help but notice that they were in need of maintenance, although it was not so obvious to the untrained eye.

Daniel was right. Dexford needed money, and so he resorted to that age-old tactic of noblemen struggling to maintain their lifestyle—marry a lady with a large enough dowry.

Except there was no dowry large enough to support a gambler like Lord Dexford. He needed more than a miracle—he needed to quit, which was pretty much akin to asking a tiger to skin himself and hand over his hide.

“This way, Your Grace.” The butler bowed to him. “Lord Dexford is waiting in his study.”

“Your Grace?” a high-pitched voice squeaked. “Which noble personage has graced this household?”

Ethan turned to find a gray-haired woman peeking out one of the doors. Spectacles rested on the edge of a rounded nose as beady gray eyes widened in shock.

It was the Dowager Viscountess Dexford.

“Your Grace!” she squeaked again. “We did not expect you to come over!”

“He is not here for tea, My Lady,” a cold voice intoned from above the stairs.

Ethan looked up to find none other than the Viscount Dexford smiling gloatingly down at him.

“He is here to discuss business with me .”

Ethan returned his cold smile with a frostier one. “Lord Dexford is right—we have much to discuss.”

The Dowager Viscountess bobbed her head, and with a hastily mumbled excuse, she retreated to the parlor.

“You have to forgive my mother,” Lord Dexford told him. “She is starved for female companionship. She had been so looking forward to my marriage to Lady Phoebe, but alas…” He let out a dramatic sigh. “It was not meant to be…”

Ethan kept his expression neutral as he followed the man into his study. He would not give Dexford the pleasure of knowing that his every word galled him.

“I suppose you came to talk to me today about the rumors that have been going around,” the Viscount continued with a triumphant smile.

Daniel was right—vermin like him like to talk when they think they’ve already won.

Well then, Ethan was going to let him keep talking and enjoy himself for as long as it lasted.

“I had nothing to do with it.” Lord Dexford shrugged. “You know how these rumors form from bits and pieces of the truth…”

“It is funny how word gets around rather quickly,” Ethan remarked coolly. “One would think there was someone fanning the flames.”

“Well, I do not control the people’s tongues.” Dexford chuckled. “They like to talk.”

“And so you let them.”

The Viscount’s eyes flashed. “Who am I to stop them?”

“Indeed.” This time, it was Ethan’s turn to shrug his shoulders in a show of extreme nonchalance. “After all, with your creditors knocking on your door, how could you still manage to pay off anyone for such a petty scheme?”

He had meant to get a reaction from the Viscount, but he had no idea just how explosive it was going to be. Any beast backed into a corner was certain to bite, and he had not only backed Dexford into a corner—he thrust him there.

“It should not have been this way,” Dexford hissed. “She was mine . Her dowry was supposed to be mine . Marrying that chit would have ended all of my immediate problems, but she just had to throw herself at you like a whore .”

Ethan resisted the urge to plant his fist in the man’s face. It was not the time for it yet.

“I would caution you to please speak respectfully about my wife,” he reminded him coolly.

“You know, I was actually pleased when you did not show any interest in her at all.” Dexford chuckled. “A woman who wanted love and never got it? She would have fallen so easily for anyone who gave her what her heart craved the most. Even if I did not get to marry her and acquire her dowry, I would still consider it a win if I could seduce a duchess.”

“And yet, she still preferred me over you.” Ethan shook his head with a mocking sigh. “That must have been quite a setback.”

Dexford threw his head back and barked out a laugh. “You think you are all that, don’t you? But you very nearly married a woman carrying another man’s child.”

“Miss Delaney?”

“Oh yes.” The Viscount’s smile dripped with malice. “She very nearly had you, did she not? Right up to the altar, until that witch threw a wrench into all our carefully laid out plans!”

This one, Ethan had not expected.

He knew that some other man most likely fathered Miss Delaney’s child, but he did not know it was Dexford himself.

“She could have become a duchess!” the Viscount seethed. “And our son would have become the next Duke of Sinclair. Imagine that.”

Ethan narrowed his eyes at him. “ You were at the party.”

“Yes. Yes, I was…” Dexford cackled. “And so was she. She slipped the draught into your drink. Wiped you out for the rest of the night, only to wake up to a warm, naked lady by your side who was conveniently with child…”

“She already knew she was with child at the party?”

The Viscount smirked at him. “What do you think?”

All of it—Miss Delaney and the blackmail, the scandal sheets that harassed Phoebe endlessly… all of it was part of their grand scheme.

“I think it was pretty good right up to the part when Miss Delaney boasted about forcing me to take responsibility for a child that was not mine to claim,” Ethan retorted. “She talked too much.”

Just like what you are doing now.

“And she paid for it.” Dexford shrugged as if they were discussing some random woman and not the one who was currently carrying his child. “Sent to the countryside to keep everything quiet. Her entire family disgraced. You should know, because it was all your doing.”

Ethan smiled coldly at him. “She made one other mistake, you see—she threatened my wife, and I do not take kindly to such threats.”

“And still, you sent her away just because of a scandal sheet. Tell me, Sinclair, what makes you think you are any different from me?”

“Well, for one, I would never abandon my wife,” Ethan drawled. “And for two, I would kill any man who dared to lay a finger on her.”

“You are wrong on that account, Your Grace ,” Dexford spat out. “I would never have succeeded if you did not keep pushing her away. That woman was devoted to you, and still, you pushed her away.”

I did not mean to… I thought it was for the best that we maintained a cordial distance between us .

Now, Ethan realized how his own stubbornness had nearly cost them everything.

He grabbed the Viscount by the lapels of his jacket, reveling in the fear that flashed briefly in his eyes before fury took over.

“What the hell, Sinclair! Unhand me!”

“Scared?” Ethan smirked at him. “I could beat you here, and nobody would ever speak for you— that is power. That is what you do not have.”

As Dexford struggled against his grip, all he could see was how pathetic the man was. For all his schemes, the Viscount was incapable of doing much, and yet he had managed to come between him and Phoebe all because he felt he had been robbed of the opportunity her dowry offered.

“You are pathetic,” Ethan growled. “You couldn’t succeed on your own, so you relied on women to pull you up. You would abandon your own flesh and blood for your selfish ambitions, but you truly do not have much to offer yourself.”

He threw him off and dusted his hands, as if touching the man dirtied him. Dexford glared at him, growling as he picked himself back up.

“I wanted to hit you—for what you did to Phoebe. For dragging her name in the mud over and over again,” Ethan growled. “But now that I know just how much of a wretch you are, I have lost all appetite for it. You do not deserve that much.”

As he turned to the door, it flew open to reveal the Dowager Viscountess, and he looked at her in shock. Considering how much she had fawned over him in the front hall, it was most surprising how she did not even seem to notice him now. Her attention was focused solely on her son.

“You…” she gasped, pointing a shaky finger at him. “You got that young woman pregnant?”

“So what?” Dexford spat out. “She is practically useless. Her dowry is close to nothing! We will end up on the streets if I marry her!”

“Then you should have thought of that before you got her with child!” Lady Dexford shrieked. “Mark my words, Dexford, you will marry that young woman even if I have to drag you to the altar myself!”

Ethan shook his head as he closed the door behind him, leaving Lady Dexford screaming at her son to take responsibility for what he did to Miss Delaney.

Whether Dexford chose to marry Miss Delaney was his own business now. Ethan had other things to take care of.

Most of all, he needed to go to Phoebe and grovel at her feet and beg for her forgiveness.

He needed to bring her back home.