Page 6 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin (Ton’s Wolves #3)

CHAPTER 6

T he next morning, Ethan sat across from the table in his study with a supremely satisfied smirk, a glass of celebratory brandy just within reach.

“So, am I to understand that you just got out of your betrothal to Miss Delaney and you are now betrothed to Lady Phoebe Barkley?” Hudson regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that not a bit too soon?”

“It could not have come at a more perfect time.” Ethan grinned at him. “Lady Phoebe saved me from a fate worse than death. I cannot simply repay her with ruination.”

His friend frowned at him. “You do realize that the ton is already abuzz with talk of your wedding—or what was supposed to be your wedding. Not to mention that Lord Latimer and his family will never suffer this indignity without protest.”

Indeed, Arthur Delaney, the Baron Latimer, was quite understandably upset about the withdrawal of the Duke of Sinclair from his daughter’s wedding, but he had helped himself a little too much to the estate’s liquor cabinet to effectively argue about it.

His wife, however, raised hell and far more ruckus than even Phoebe herself had caused on that fateful day.

Miss Delaney, who would never be the Duchess of Sinclair after everything that happened, tearfully clung to Ethan. And when he would not be dissuaded, she resorted to threatening to bring him and Phoebe down with her.

That had the exact opposite result of what she wanted to achieve.

Admittedly, it was the first time Ethan ever lost his temper with the fairer sex, but Miss Delaney had gone unchecked for far too long. Threatening Phoebe was the last straw in a seemingly endless list of faults Ethan found with his former betrothed.

“If you even dream of harming her,” he had told the perfidious woman, “I will make sure that your entire family will suffer the consequences of your actions. Or perhaps you would like the whole of London to know the truth about the child you are carrying in your womb?”

Miss Delaney had turned visibly ashen at the threat. “H-how did you?—”

He had smiled coldly at her then. “Nothing truly stays a secret, Miss Delaney .”

Now, that was a threat she would heed.

But even more than that, Ethan made sure that she knew without a doubt that he was more than capable of making her worst fears come to life.

In the end, the entire family had to be thrown out of the estate along with their more supportive guests.

Miss Delaney hardly said anything as she and her shouting mama were kindly escorted to their carriage and as their valises were not so kindly thrown in after them.

“All the more reason for me to marry the young lady posthaste.” Ethan grinned, before taking a sip from his glass.

“For a man so opposed to marriage, you seem rather delighted with your new betrothed,” Hudson remarked dryly. “I suppose it helps that Lady Phoebe is exceptionally?—”

Ethan shot his friend a warning glare. “Do not finish that sentence, Wolverton, if you want us to continue our friendship,” he growled.

But there was no point in denying it—Lady Phoebe Barkley was exceedingly captivating. Any man would have to be blind to overlook those wide green eyes flecked with gold and those rosy lips that were seemingly made for searing kisses…

Come to think of it, he had not even kissed her yet. He should have done so to seal their betrothal!

How could he have been so neglectful?

He would have to keep that in mind the next time they met…

“Her fiancé will not be too pleased about this either,” Hudson warned him.

“ Ex -fiancé,” Ethan corrected blithely.

“The Viscount Dexford is not a pleasant man.”

Which was why Phoebe should never have to marry him. What was her father thinking when he thought of that betrothal?

Ethan shrugged. “From what I gathered, the betrothal was not exactly set in stone.”

“And how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Her mama was all too happy to betroth her to me .”

Indeed, the Marchioness of Brandon was so euphoric at the prospect of both her daughters becoming duchesses that she would gladly break off Phoebe’s previous engagement, even if it meant offending the Viscount.

If only Phoebe was as easy to convince as her mother…

But then again, that was what was so wonderful about her—she did not care for his titles or his fortune. She was a literal breath of fresh air in a city full of women throwing themselves at him, trying to be the next Duchess of Sinclair.

“Just… be more careful with this one, Ethan,” Hudson sighed. “She is Alice’s younger sister—which also makes her Colin’s younger sister by marriage.”

Ethan chuckled as he raised his glass of brandy. “I have not forgotten that particular aspect of my betrothed, old friend.”

In fact, he could very well recall all aspects of Lady Phoebe Barkley.

Including that incredibly tempting figure of hers.

Particularly that .

“Do not worry, Hudson.” He grinned. “I shall make sure that the young lady does not suffer as my Duchess.”

“You would do very well to remember that, old friend.”

Hudson drank the remainder of his brandy, giving Ethan one last final warning glance before shuffling out of the study.

Alone in his study, Ethan drank the rest of the brandy in his glass.

He had not lied to Hudson.

Once they married, he would make sure that Phoebe would want for nothing. If she so chose, he could show her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings. As his wife, he would make sure that she had everything that his status could afford.

Except for his heart, of course. That was out of the question.

He was not quite sure he even had one.

So this is what the aftermath of a scandal is like.

Phoebe stared out the window of the parlor as the last of the wedding guests filed out of Sinclair Estate, bringing with them the titillating news of her scandalous declaration of love for Ethan Audley.

She was ruined now, there was no doubt.

Her papa had retired to his rooms, and Alice and her mama had followed him.

Phoebe was much too ashamed to face him.

“There you are.”

She raised her head to find her brother-in-law walking towards her, smiling as if the entire world had not just come crashing down around them.

“We did not see you after breakfast,” he remarked casually.

Breakfast . The word made Phoebe shudder slightly.

Who still had the stomach to eat after everything that happened? After everything she had done?

“Your sister is worried about you.”

“I know,” Phoebe groaned in agony. “I am so, so sorry…”

Sorry for inviting scandal upon their name. Sorry for upsetting her papa’s carefully thought-out plans for her. Sorry for making everyone worried…

But she was not sorry to have put an end to Miss Delaney’s scheme.

“Ethan means to make a proper proposal today.”

Phoebe shook her head. “No. No, he cannot.”

She did not want a proposal. She did not want to get married.

She wanted very much to be left to her own devices. To pursue all the things she could not as a proper young lady.

“Phoebe, you just declared your affection for the man before all the guests,” Colin reminded her softly. “When the news makes its rounds?—”

She shook her head. More emphatically this time.

“No, no, no, Colin. All gossip is like that—it will all die down, eventually!” she insisted. “If I just stay away from Society and?—”

“You cannot possibly mean to hide away for the rest of your life, Phoebe.”

Even Colin looked aghast at the very mention of it.

“Well, n-not exactly,” she stammered. “Not for the rest of my life. Only until the scandal blows over and everyone is talking about something else again…”

“But you will have no prospects. The Viscount Dexford is expected to withdraw his offer anytime now.”

Phoebe smiled bitterly at that. “But is that such a bad thing?”

Colin sighed. “Could you not have chosen another way to break off this betrothal, my dear?”

She winced at that.

He was right—he had every right to berate her for her impulsive actions.

But the last thing she wanted was another engagement.

“Colin, I do not appreciate you lambasting my betrothed in my very own parlor,” an icy voice spoke up.

Her head swiveled to the door to find Ethan standing there, with a cold smile on his face. He looked as if he had not slept as well as she did, although he was already dressed in an immaculate white linen shirt and breeches that clung to his muscular thighs, complete with a perfectly tailored morning coat.

Oh, the powers of a most judicious valet!

On the other hand, Phoebe was certain she looked as if her maid had forcibly dragged her out of bed.

“I know that you might not like hearing it from us, my dear sister, but perhaps you should listen to him,” Colin advised her softly. “He means well.”

“What? Colin, no?—”

Colin was only right on one count—Phoebe had no desire to hear it from him and was even less inclined to listen to Ethan and his preposterous proposal.

But her brother-in-law was already striding out the door, leaving her all alone to deal with the most impossible Duke of Sin, a man who was determined to be her husband for all the wrong reasons.

“You… cannot possibly mean to propose to me?” she sighed bleakly.

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her with what appeared to be keen interest.

Fantastic. She could only wonder what a rogue with his reputation could possibly find interesting about her.

“I hate to be the bringer of bad news, Phoebe, but I fully intend to do just that,” he stated firmly. “I have given my word to your father, your mother, and your sister.”

“You can still take it back, you know.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Your dear brother-in-law has also made it known to me that he will resort to violence if I do just that.”

Phoebe grimaced. “Colin is… exaggerating.”

“He certainly was not exaggerating when he landed a solid fist on Daniel’s cheek when he found out about him and Lady Evelyn.”

Phoebe managed a wobbly smile at that.

As much as she adored having Colin as her brother-in-law, she could not deny that he certainly took his duties as an older brother seriously.

Much too seriously.

“Well, you are a rogue,” she muttered with a halfhearted smile. “And a Wolf, at that.”

“I am well aware of who I am, sweetheart. There is no need to remind me.”

Phoebe nodded emphatically. “Which means you should have no trouble at all taking back your intention to propose,” she finished.

He laughed, and Phoebe cursed the way her traitorous legs seemed to turn into jelly at the sound.

At least, she could still rely on her spine to keep her upright.

Right?

“Oof!”

She had been so busy trying to convince him to retract his intention to propose that she had not noticed how close he was. Or how his arm had snaked around her waist.

Not until he had pulled her flush against his chest, that wicked, wicked smile of his doing sacrilegious things to her sanity.

She should push him away. She honestly should. But her arms and hands had turned traitor as well.

“Sweetheart, we are getting married in a week.”

Phoebe swallowed and raised her gaze to his. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that it was embarrassing. “W-we are?”

He grinned. “I am proposing to you now—and you are going to accept.”

“I-I am?”

“Of course.”

Phoebe did not want to get married—not to a rake who did not love her.

If she was to marry, it should have been to someone she loved and who loved her in return.

Like Alice and Colin.

Or Evie and Daniel.

But it would seem that the only thing she had in common with those famed love matches was that she was marrying a Wolf.

The Duke of Sin, no less.