Page 49 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

“Well, I have read about love…” she began. “I have heard about it, and I have seen it for myself with you and Alice, but…” She sighed. “Well, I am notreallya spinster, am I? And sometimes, Idomiss his company…”

Especially at night, she added mournfully to herself.

At night, when her burgeoning desires would take hold of her, seizing her with such force that it was almost shocking. She had touched herself as Ethan had taught her, wrenching climax after hollow climax as she lay writhing on her big, empty bed.

And in the mornings, she found herself pining for his presence at the breakfast table. As much as she hated to admit it, she even missed his outrageous innuendoes.

Or the way he stirred those dark longings within her without even touching her.

“He is not so bad,” she finished lamely. “For a Wolf, that is.”

“You forget that I am married to a Wolf as well, my dear.” Evie giggled. “And as much as I adore the man, Daniel can be a bit of a handful, I will not lie.”

But everyone in London knew that the Duke of Ashton was madly in love with his wife.

Phoebe could not say the same thing for her and Ethan.

“If you care for him this much, why did you let him go, then?” Evie asked her.

“I… I do not trust him, Evie,” Phoebe whispered achingly. “He might appear to care for me, but for all I know, he could be with his mistresses as we speak. I can learn to live with itnow, but if I get closer to him…”

If I fall in love with him, it will break my heart.

“You mean to say that you and your husband have yet to consummate your marriage?” Scarlett asked her in shock.

“Quiet, you!” Phoebe admonished her friend.

Her cheeks were flaming red, but it was more from the recollection of the pleasure Ethan had coaxed from her without even touching her.

If she had allowed him to touch her…

Dear God in heaven, would I have lived to tell the tale?

If she had already found it difficult to stand after that interlude in the breakfast room, having Ethan touch her would probably send her to bed forweeks.

She wanted him.Cravedhim.

But she wanted him to profess his loyalty to her as well.

It was all or nothing.

She would not have a husband who loved her in bed and entertained other women outside of it.

It wouldcrushher.

At that moment, two familiar figures approached them. The older lady, the Dowager Viscountess Dexford, greeted all three young ladies cheerfully, while the Viscount conveyed his greetings in a more subdued and polite manner.

“Your Grace, I have not seen you since your wedding!” the Dowager Viscountess enthused. “How have you been doing, my dear?”

“Ah… Quite well, My Lady. Thank you very much for asking.”

Phoebe was not so familiar with the Dowager Viscountess, so her effusive greetings surprised her a little. It had been her parents who had arranged the betrothal between her and Lord Dexford, after all, and Phoebe herself had only briefly interacted with the woman on a handful of occasions.

“I do not blame you at all for doing what you did, my dear,” the Dowager Viscountess continued with an overly bright smile.

Phoebe frowned in confusion. “Do what, My Lady?”

“Why, protect His Grace from that grasping schemer, of course!” The older woman’s eyes widened enthusiastically. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did anyone ever find out who the father of her child is?”

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