Page 58 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

And then, she proceeded to curse Ethan for planting those seeds into her.

I would not mind it terribly if he planted his seeds as well, a devious voice quipped in her head, to her great horror.

He was only here for no more than an hour and a half.How could I have devolved into a creature of depravity in such a brief time?

Perhaps debauchery truly was contagious. The only difference was that Ethan Audley was the sole object of her fantasies, whereas she might not be the only object of his.

She threw the cloth into the washbasin angrily, much to her maid’s surprise.

“I… do not feel well today,” she muttered hastily.

But Ella only smiled in understanding. “You have been the spirit of kindness ever since you were a little girl, Your Grace. It is not wrong to feel emotion sometimes.”

Phoebe let out a long-suffering sigh and sat in her vanity while Ella began to brush her hair. For so long, she had aspired for perfection. Every smile had been practiced, her hands always positioned the exact way, with nary a hair out of place.

It was a little tiring, to be honest.

However, since she met Ethan Audley, she realized that nothing in her life had gone according to plan.

Even now, she could not stop thinking about him—or the way his tongue lashed against her aching slit.

She squirmed a little in her seat, squeezing her thighs together, and she hoped that Ella would not notice her strange discomfort. But even if she did, the maid had spent enough time with her to know that when she was anxious and worried, she vastly preferred silence and the company of her own thoughts.

“Did… His Grace say anything before he left?” she asked the maid.

The brush hovered slightly over her silken locks, and for a moment, hope soared inside her. But then, Ella shook her head.

“I did not hear of anything, Your Grace,” the maid said in an almost apologetic tone.

Phoebe affected a look of nonchalance and shrugged. “It is hardly of any consequence. After all, this was his residence even before it was mine. He may come and go as he pleases.”

Those words struck a chord deep within her, as much as she hated to admit it.

Come and go as he pleased, indeed!

After Ella finished with her hair and helped her into her dress, Phoebe made her way to the parlor, where she usually took a light breakfast and a spot of tea, even though she scarcely had the appetite for it.

If she did not eat, the servants may very well report that to Ethan, and Phoebe would rather he did not realize just how great an effect he had on her.

Or what if sherefusedto eat and the servants reported that to him? Would he anxiously come running back to the estate then?

Phoebe scoffed softly at her thoughts. She had always felt such disdain for the petty games that ladies played on their beaux and husbands, but here she was, considering those very same schemes.

She smiled softly as the servants laid out an array of bread and pastries before her, as well as some butter and a great assortment of jams. A pot of freshly brewed tea was also brought out, along with cream and some sugar.

As had become the household routine in the past month since Ethan left for his townhouse, the butler came in with a silver tray bearing the day’s correspondence. Usually, there would be this or that Lady inviting her out for tea or luncheon.

However, today, there was only one single card on the tray.

“Just this one?” she muttered, frowning slightly as she picked it up. “How strange…”

“His Grace advised me to clear your schedule, Your Grace, as he will be coming over for tea,” Morton explained simply.

Phoebe nearly dropped the card back on the tray in her surprise. “His Grace?”

“The Duke of Sinclair.”

“Naturally.” Phoebe managed a feeble chuckle. “But why would he send his card instead of just sending word?”

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