Page 5 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 5

N o.

No. No. No.

This could not be happening to her.

But Alice’s arms around her shoulders were real. So was the glare Colin was giving Ethan.

And throughout all of this, he was simply watching the whole scene as if it had been the most entertaining moment of his life.

Almost immediately, an unspeakable sense of injustice welled up within Phoebe. She had spent her whole life abiding by the rules. She had memorized etiquette better than all the other young ladies who made their bow with her. She had behaved as perfectly as any young lady could.

Still, it had not been enough to stay out of trouble.

If I had known it would all come to this, I might as well have done the most unspeakably outrageous things!

But she had indeed done something quite outrageous—she had upended the wedding of the Duke of Sinclair by boldly declaring her affections for him before the entire ton.

By tomorrow, everyone would be talking about her.

And Ethan.

And poor, poor Miss Marianne Delaney, who had been jilted at the altar when her groom rushed after the very same woman who called a screeching halt to their wedding.

It was a disaster that would have the whole of London talking for a good month at least.

“Did Daniel never tell you about the punch he received when he compromised Evelyn?”

Why oh why did men always have to resort to violence to sort things out?

The moment Colin spoke up, Phoebe moaned piteously and dropped her face in her hands. Of course, her new brother-in- law would make sure that Ethan answered for what was mostly her fault anyway.

The only one who seemed unfazed by all the chaos was Ethan himself, who only chuckled at the implicit threat.

“I am not sure if he has mentioned it,” he drawled with a slight smile. “But come to think of it, old friend—is it not the other way around? Was it not Lady Phoebe who compromised me ?”

Phoebe gaped at him in shock. The sheer audacity of this man!

But then again, he had a point…

“I doubt you would want to hit your dear sister-in-law, however,” Ethan continued with that same smug smile as he glanced at her.

Kill me now. Kill me and bury me where the sun will never touch my disgrace…

“Indeed, what were you thinking, Phoebe?” Alice chastised her gently. “If you had this… this thing for Ethan, why did you never tell me?”

“I do not have a thing for His Grace!” Phoebe cried with all the vehemence her heart could muster. “I would never fall for a Wolf!”

Colin winced visibly, and she felt a twinge of remorse in her heart. Perhaps she was a bit too emphatic in her declaration.

“No offense to you, Colin,” she apologized bleakly to her brother-in-law. “And Alice.”

She could see her older sister struggling to smile reassuringly at her. “None taken, my dear. I understand you are simply overwrought.”

Overwrought. It was much too simple a term for what she truly felt. She had sowed chaos and was now reaping its harvest—even more chaos .

“In any case, there is no reason for all of you to step in,” she told them glumly. “I simply did what I did to save him .”

She glared pointedly at Ethan, who only continued to smile at her. For a groom who had just been told that his bride had deceived him, he was in remarkably good spirits.

Colin’s eyes swiveled to his friend and narrowed. “Save him ?” he echoed. “Save him from what exactly?”

Phoebe immediately clamped her mouth shut. “It is not my position to say.”

Alice sighed and took her hands. “Dearest, how are we supposed to help you when you insist on keeping everything from us?”

“That is correct,” Colin concurred. “You are so intent on protecting this one—” He paused and glared at his friend. “But who is going to protect you ?”

Alice looked at her sister worriedly. “Not to mention that it is inevitable that the Viscount will hear of this…”

He will not want to marry you now.

The words hung unspoken in the air.

“Such a tragedy…” Phoebe muttered under her breath.

She looked up at her sister and felt something like hope fill her for the first time since her father announced her betrothal to the Viscount Dexford.

“Alice,” she said excitedly. “This is all for the best, do you not see? I will not have to marry the Viscount! I could be a happy spinster?—”

Her excitement was cut off when the door to the study burst open with a force enough to tear it off its hinges.

“A spinster!? Absolutely not! The Duke will rectify this situation immediately and save your reputation himself!” the Marchioness of Brandon howled.

There was never a sight more formidable than a mother whose daughter’s prospects had just been ruined. Alice visibly shuddered as their mama stormed into the study, with the Marquess trailing after her quietly.

Even Colin winced slightly.

At the sight of her mama, cheeks flaming with rage, Phoebe realized that there was no hole she could dig deep enough to bury herself and save herself from mortification.

“Why, you are a young lady of impeccable lineage and sufficient fortune! Spinster, indeed!” the Marchioness continued to rage. “I will not have you waste away for the rest of your life, Phoebe Eleanor Barkley! I will not allow it!”

Mama, please . Spinsterhood is not that bad, really…

Spinsters were afforded a greater freedom than even most married ladies. She might have to rely on her father and his heir to provide a roof over her head, but it would not be so bad. She did not need much upkeep, and best of all, she could be left alone to her own devices. She could devote her time to doing what she loved most…

“Exactly what I had in mind!”

Her fantasies came to a screeching halt as she looked at Ethan in abject horror.

Her mama, who looked to be on the verge of another tirade, looked as if the breath had been knocked out of her lungs.

Everybody turned towards Ethan, who was smiling at them as if they were not discussing Phoebe’s ruination and dismal prospects.

“It is the least I can do,” he pointed out quietly.

“No, it is not—” Phoebe protested.

Ethan looked at her, the intensity in his gaze effectively drying up all the objections in her throat.

“Am I truly that repulsive to you, My Lady?” he asked her softly. “Does the idea of marriage to me disgust you so much?”

Phoebe felt a keen sense of frustration. “It is not that, Your Grace?—”

“Then it is settled!” the Marchioness declared triumphantly. “The Duke of Sinclair will marry you. Both my daughters will now be duchesses. Such excellent news!”

Phoebe turned in desperation to the one figure who remained silent throughout this entire affair.

The Marquess of Brandon looked as if all the vitality had been leached from him in the span of an hour. When he stared back at her, the look in his eyes was so bleak it was as if he despaired for her future.

“Papa,” she pleaded with him. “Please, Papa?—”

But he only turned around and quietly shuffled out of the study, his wife following him.

Phoebe understood now—it was not only despair that she saw in his eyes but disappointment as well.

He was disappointed in her .

Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach.

No, no, no…

“I shall go attend to Papa,” Alice murmured, giving her hands one final squeeze before leaving the room.

Colin gave Ethan one last pointed look before he followed his wife and closed the door behind him.

The air that had once crackled with the tension of their earlier arguments was now suffused with a desolate silence.

Anger fueled by hopelessness surged in Phoebe’s heart.

She stood up and angrily faced the man who had doomed her to yet another loveless union with his careless words.

Promises he might not even want to keep.

Earlier, his words had even given away the fact that he had absolutely no intention of honoring his vows.

“Why?” she raged at him. “Why would you decide to be a gentleman now?”

She had been close, so close to the freedom she had always dreamed of.

If only he did not open his mouth.

Ethan calmly shrugged. “You did not seem content with your betrothal to the Viscount. I assumed you would not miss him if your betrothal was broken.”

That part, she would agree with. The rest of it? Not so much.

Phoebe threw her hands up in frustration. “Why does everyone assume they know what I want?”

“Well, what do you want, Lady Phoebe?” he asked her, his voice low and serious. “What do you truly want?”

“I want to be left alone!” she spat. “I want to never marry, let alone be forced into it!”

She had been so consumed by her anger that she did not notice him drawing her closer. By the time she was aware of it, he had his arms around her, drawing her into a loose embrace that did not give no matter how much she squirmed in his arms.

“Well, that is too bad, sweetheart,” he told her. “We are to be married in a week.”

A week? That was even shorter than her betrothal to the Viscount!

“You wish!” Phoebe fumed, glaring at him. “Now, release me, Your Grace.”

“Never.” He chuckled as he dipped his head to her neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “You are mine now, Lady Phoebe Eleanor Barkley.”

Her heart rate quickened, her blood turning hot in her veins. Of their own volition, her fingers curled into his shoulders, digging into the muscles as she held onto him.

His.

There was a certain cadence to his voice when he said it—and she was the fool who wanted so badly to believe it.

The Duke of Sin was a Wolf, indeed.

The most dangerous one.

She cannot— must not —fall for his tricks.

Not if she meant to keep her heart intact.

Lady Phoebe Barkley was a handful of trouble. Ethan knew it back then at the house party, and he was reminded of it once more when she decided to single-handedly put a stop to his nuptials.

And yet, she had no plans of marrying him. Ever .

She made that particularly clear.

The one saving grace in this entire fiasco was that she apparently had no plans of marrying anyone else either.

Any other gentleman would have found that troublesome. But she was his trouble—not the bloody Viscount Dexford’s or anyone else’s.

His .

So what if she needed a little more convincing? He was certainly up to the challenge.