Page 74 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

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 tonis, 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 tonwas 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 tonwas 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 sheknewhe 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 aweapon. 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.”

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