Ethan shot him a glare. “I hope you are not making me repeat myself, Eric.”
The footman seemed to shake himself. Managing a wobbly smile, he nodded. “To Wolverton Estate, as Your Grace commands.”
As the carriage began to sway and the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves became a steady rhythm, Ethan finally managed to close his eyes and lean back against the plush upholstery of his carriage.
That was before he recalled just how passionately he had kissed Phoebe in it just a few short hours ago.
I must be going mad.Phoebe has unraveled me in ways we both could never have imagined.
They reached Wolverton Estate—the forbidding abode of the most reclusive of the Wolves—at just a little past midnight.
The lamps at the gates were lit, but most of the mansion was shrouded in darkness.
Many in the ton speculated that the Duke of Wolverton engaged in a great many hair-raising acts within its walls, while those who were more realistic were wont to believe that the man simply did not wish to waste his fortune by burning candles for all forty-two rooms on that magnificent property.
Ethan knew that Hudson hardly cared for most of those rooms, except the ones he used often—his bedchamber, his study, and the great balcony at the back.
It was precisely on this balcony that he found his friend reclining on the velvet dais with a drink in his hand.
“I had wondered which idiot would walk into my lair at this ungodly hour,” Hudson drawled as he lazily swirled the deep red liquid in his glass. His eyes flicked to Ethan. “So it is you.”
Ethan scoffed and leaned back against the balustrade. “It is just a little past midnight. You must be getting old if you are complaining at this hour.”
“If you came here simply to complain about the hours I am keeping, the door is that way.” Hudson pointed at the wide-open French doors behind him. “Do not let me stop you on your way out.”
“I did not come here for an argument, dammit!” Ethan groaned.
His friend raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Then what are you here for?”
Ethan pushed off the stone railing and raked his hand through his thick locks, frustration radiating from just about every pore in his body.
“I did it,” he finally said.
“Did what?”
“We are married now. In full.”
Hudson let out a low chuckle. “Did you come here to hear my congratulations on your success?”
“No, dammit!” Ethan paced back and forth. “She told me that I was right—that maybe pleasure would be enough for the both of us.”
“Should you not be pleased?” Hudson scoffed. “You have been trying to get her to see everything fromyourperspective. Now, she has. Congratulations on that one, as well.”
Ethan crouched down, his head in his hands. “The problem is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, “I do not quite know how I should feel aboutthat.”
To his surprise, Hudson did not answer. He merely swirled the wine in his glass a few more times before taking a leisurely sip.
“Somehow, I think you came to the wrong person,” he pointed out. “Should you not be seeking advice from our married comrades instead?”
Ethan threw his hands up in frustration. “How can I possibly do that when one is married to hersisterand the other to herbest friend?”
If he was tobreatheeven a hint of it to either Colin or Daniel, it would only be a matter ofdaysbefore word of it reached Phoebe.
Maybe even justhoursif he spoke to Colin. The man never could hide anything from his wife.
“I do not see any reason for your dilemma,” Hudson sighed. “You do realize that you can choose to simply donothing.”
Ethan frowned. “Nothing?”