Page 13 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

At that point, the Marchioness of Brandon decided that her daughter had done enough.

“Phoebe Eleanor Barkley, do sit down and behave yourself!” she called out from the pews, fuming.

Phoebe turned around and saw her sister, Alice, looking at her with concern.

“And what did your heart tell you, sweetheart?”

Her gaze swiveled back to Ethan, whose gaze had become so unnaturally cold that she shivered all the way down to her toes. He looked as if he might very well wring her neck for making a spectacle of herself and a fool out of them both.

This is it. Now or never.

She could not back down now.

If she did, then all of this humiliation would have been for nothing.

“Your Grace, I have searched my heart, and this I know to be true—I am madly, deeply,irrevocablycharmed by you.” Phoebe straightened up and tossed her head back as she looked himdead in the eye and announced in a flat tone, “Thus, I cannot have you wed another!”

There was a loud thud, followed by a great uproar. The Marchioness of Brandon had keeled over and fainted—from shock, mortification, anger…

Orallof them.

I am so sorry, Mama. So dreadfully sorry.

After causing such a scene in public at a grand affair like this, Phoebe would be fortunate if her prospects simply plummeted dreadfully. The Viscount might even withdraw his proposal—which should be the only blessing to come out of all this.

She would be shunned by all of Society. Not even Alice, who was a duchess in her own right, would be able to elevate her after what she had done, the furor she had caused.

She raised her pained eyes to Ethan, who was now looking at her in absolute shock.

“I am so sorry, Your Grace,” she choked out. “So sorry.”

Then, she hiked up her skirts andran.

She could not just run after she said all of that.

He would not allow it.

Damn you, Phoebe Barkley.

Ethan strode down the aisle after Phoebe when a plaintive voice called out from the altar, “Your Grace!”

He looked back and saw his bride, Miss Marianne Delaney, looking at him with tears in her eyes. No doubt, she had been greatly humiliated by the spectacle Phoebe had caused.

“Do not worry,” he reassured her quickly. “I shall demand an explanation from her.”

Before his bride could protest further, he ran out of the hall, barely catching a glimpse of a sage green skirt turning the corner as he did so.

When he caught her by the arm, he felt as if his very chest would burst.

“Let me go!” Phoebe cried out, struggling against his grip.

“Do you think I am simply going to let you go after that show you just put on?” he told her coldly. “In my study. Now.”

He dared not let go of her as he led her into the study, slamming the door shut behind her as he did so.

“What the hell were you thinking, Lady Phoebe?” he demanded. “Charming? Really? Could you not have waited untilafterthe wedding, at least? We could have?—”

“We could have what, Your Grace?” she spat with a reproving look. “Do you mean to say that you will not keep your vows?”

---