Page 85 of A Bride for the Duke of Sin

Better for her to live hating me.At least then, she would still be alive.

As long as Phoebe was alive, he could be content with the knowledge that he had not destroyed her the way his father had destroyed his mother.

Hudson looked at him, his finger idly tracing the rim of his glass as he let out a soft snort. “You want her to accept you, but notallof you,” he scoffed. “Maybe one of these days, you can see past the lies you are trying to sell yourself.”

He stood up and straightened his jacket, glowering at Ethan. “Just hope that your Duchess will still forgive you for your stubbornness when you do finally come around and see sense,old friend.” When Ethan stood up, he held his hand out in front of him. “No need to see me out the door,” he said coldly. “I can walk there myself.”

“All right, then.Old friend.”

Hudson flashed him a cold smile. A Wolf baring his teeth.

The door closed behind him, and he left as quietly as he arrived. Moments later, Ethan could hear the clatter of hooves moving away from his townhouse.

He had wanted a stiff drink, and the heavens decided to mock him by sending Hudson.

Stiff drinks and even stiffer friends.

Ethan laughed to himself humorlessly. For a man who avoided contact with most other members of Society, Hudson seemed to have a lot of words to say to him about his marriage.

Would he have just as many things to say about his own marriage when the time comes?

Ethan somehow doubted that his cold and aloof friend could ever consider that path.

Or what kind of woman would?

Then again,hehad not seen himself getting married a few months ago.

All it had taken was for one impertinent young lady to decide in a split second that she would rather risk her reputation to save his sorry behind.

And in return, he had dragged her into a marriage that she did not want but was still trying to make the best of.

Ethan’s face darkened as his estimation of himself sank to a new low.

CHAPTER 25

“Your Grace, a message from the Duchess.”

Ethan looked up from his meal, his appetite curling dead in his throat.

“From the Duchess, you say?” he managed past the lump in his throat, his gaze dropping to the single-folded missive on the tray held out before him.

He had been waiting for her reply all day yesterday ever since Madame Delacroix reported that she had successfully delivered the first of the items he had commissioned for Phoebe. Instead, he had been met with silence.

Cold, dreadful,awfulsilence.

It was enough to drive a man to madness. And now, she sent this one note.

What could she possibly have written?

Ethan suddenly found himself beset with conflicting thoughts.

Had she sent him a note as thanks for the gifts? Or did it take her the entire night to pen a scathing enough remark for daring to buy her affections with paltry material offerings?

With Phoebe, he was never quite sure.

He suppressed a sigh as he reached for the nondescript slip of paper, torn between laughter and tears that she had not even used the proper writing materials that a duchess should have at her disposal.

Instead, he unfolded what looked like a hastily scribbled note from a page she had torn from her journal.

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