Page 51 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

Her friends’ dismayed looks told her that this was not the sort of response they were hoping for.

“Oh dear,” Evie sighed.

“Indeed,” Scarlett muttered, shaking her head.

But that mattered very little to Phoebe, whose mind had begun to race with the myriad possibilities her newfound freedom afforded.

Possibilities that she had not considered yet.

“Let them talk,”Ethan had told her.“As my wife, you will never need to worry about such trifles ever again.”

The words he had spoken to her on their first dance echoed in her mind—as well as the promise he had made back then.

“I shall take care of everything else.”

Phoebe felt her lips curl into a slight smile—her first true one in the weeks since Ethan had left for his townhouse.

She certainly hoped that he meant what he said when he gave her the freedom to do as she pleased, to be as outrageous as she wanted.

Perhaps, if she was audacious enough, she might even draw his attention…

Not that I care!

CHAPTER 15

He was going out of his mind.

That was the only explanation for why he had been pacing in his study in his townhouse for the better part of an hour, looking like an absolute lunatic.

Huxley had long given up on trying to dress him appropriately, as aside from his secretary and the occasional visit from his concerned friends, Ethan had not even bothered to see other living souls beyond his residence.

And in all that time, he had not heard from Phoebe.

Not even once.

He groaned in frustration as he raked his hand through his already disheveled hair.

He had, however, heard a great deal about her.

It seemed that his beloved wife was greatly enjoying her newfound freedom, attending balls and routs and going for rides and promenades.

Phoebe was practicallyeverywherein London, except with him.

It was enough to drive any sane man to madness.

A slight knock interrupted his spiraling thoughts in a way very much like the jarring experience of running into a bloody wall. When Huxley opened the door, he shot his poor valet a withering glare.

“Will Your Grace be attending the Finch ball tonight?”

Ethan only continued to glare at him coldly.

His valet was well aware that he did not particularly like the Baron Finch—nor did he appreciate his buxom Baroness’s inappropriate advances.

Even justthinkingabout it made his gut churn savagely.

To his credit, Huxley did not even look the slightest bit affected. He simply bowed and moved to close the door, when Ethan called out, “Stop.”

“Do you need anything, Your Grace?”

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