Page 68 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

The bed of the Duke of Sinclair, to be exact. He would not consummate their marriage on a moss-and-ivy-covered stone bridge, damn it, no matter how aesthetically pleasing it appeared.

Phoebe deserved far better than that for her first time.

As for the following times… well, he was open to considering the rest of his estate.

As well as the seven others in his name.

“When you do make me your wife in every sense of the word, Your Grace,” she returned with a slight smile, her finger trailing down his chest, “it will be when you have surrendered your heart to me.”

Impossible.

She was asking for the impossible. She might as well have asked him for the moon and the stars.

He laughed softly and stroked her hair gently. “You drive a hard bargain, Duchess.”

“I simply know what I want,” she told him with a soft smile.

I know that more than anything.

He also knew that at this point, what both of them wanted were two very different things, although they did seem to converge at certain points.

He pressed a soft kiss to her brow and said instead, “It is getting dark. We had best get back inside.”

Or I might be tempted to do more than what we both planned for.

CHAPTER 20

Phoebe was convinced that while there were a great many things that plagued the world, unannounced visitors were, by far, one of the worst—if nottheworst of them all.

Solidly in the top ten, she would say.

However, one always made concessions for one’s closest friends, and that was how she found herself in the parlor that afternoon when Scarlett decided to call on her.

“I could not get out of the estate fast enough,” the redhead declared as she breathlessly fanned herself. “With you wed, Mama has been urging me to tread down the matrimonial aisle as well. She feels that I have not been putting enough effort into finding a husband.”

Phoebe gave her a slight smile as she sipped at her tea. “Well, she should not worry on that account. You are beautiful, vivacious, and accomplished. Any gentleman would want to marry you.”

“And that is the problem,” Scarlett groaned in abject misery. “There have been a great many callers, yes, but I do not like any of them.”

“One of them must have certainly caught your interest.”

“Only in the worst possible way.” Scarlett gave a delicate shudder as she reached for a scone. “In very much the same manner one might find a cockroach interesting just before you step on it.”

Phoebe nearly choked on her tea. “Cockroaches are not the least bit interesting at all,” she said.

Disgusting, perhaps, was the word her friend meant to use. With Scarlett, however, one was never too sure.

“At this point, Mama feels that nothing is off the table—scandal included.”

“Must I remind you that I was wed under scandalous circumstances,” Phoebe pointed out with a wry smile. “I do not think your mama actually intends for you to follow in my footsteps.”

Scarlett regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “I do believe that most satisfactory marriages—yours included—had a degree of scandal attached to them. Alice’s certainly was, and let us not forget Evie’s.”

While it was true that Alice and Evie had not had conventional courtships, none of them had ever crashed a wedding to declare their undying admiration for the groom before a rapt audience of a hundred or so people.

Only Phoebe had been mad enough to do such a thing.

Scarlett’s mama should be telling her daughter to steer clear of Phoebe, notencouragethe same behavior.

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