Page 102 of Duke with a Desire

Not unless Phee said yes. If she told him she’d be his wife, he would marry her as soon as he could obtain a license. But he kept that bit to himself, for he had no wish for either his mother or his sister to pry into his affairs.

Because he would have to tread with care when it came to Phee. She had two young children to put first, and that was what she had done thus far by ending their arrangement. Apollo had never thought to step into another man’s boots and become father to his children, but after meeting Catherine and Reggie, the prospect was no longer nearly as daunting.

“I despair of the two of you,” Mother said suddenly, raising her hands as if in anguish. “I shall never hold my grandchildren in my arms before I die. If you will excuse me, I must retire to my bedchamber. I fear I’m too distraught to eat another bite more of Cook’s desserts.”

Apollo rose from his seat in deference as his mother rose regally to her full height. “Good evening, Mother.”

“Good evening to you both, and I do hope you will think on what I’ve said,” she blustered.

Gathering her skirts, she whirled about and left the dining room.

When she was gone, Apollo returned to his seat and gave his sister an admonishing look. “You’ve managed to get our mother into quite a fettle.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Me? She was the one who started on with her nonsense about marrying me off to her dreadful friend’s even more dreadful son. I do sincerely hope that one day she will see that I truly have chosen the best option. A man has far too much power over a woman once they are wed. I won’t do it. Why, only look at what has happened to poor Ophelia. Her husband left her a terrible burden.”

His shoulders tensed, for this was news to Apollo, this burden his sister spoke of, left behind by Corbett. And anything that concerned Phee quite naturally concerned him.

“What terrible burden do you speak of?” he asked, reaching for his wine and taking a few, necessary sips.

They weren’t enough to dull the knife’s edge of having seen Phee again today. But he was desperate to purge the relentless longing for her from his body.

Aphrodite grimaced, holding a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear. I promised her I wouldn’t tell you.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. His wineglass went down on the table so fast that it made a solid thunk, and wine splashed over the rim and onto his hand and the snowy table linen. But he didn’t give a good goddamn.

“She made you promise not to tell me what?” he demanded, instantly on alert.

A guilty expression clouded his sister’s face. “I can’t say. Don’t ask me, Apollo.”

“I’m not going to stop until you do,” he said. “Tell me, goose.”

Aphrodite sighed heavily, her expression troubled. She remained quiet, clearly at war with herself, until she shook her head. “Fine. If you must know, Corbett left a great many debts behind, and that is why Ophelia agreed to take on the role of hostess at the Wicked Dukes Society house party.”

His gut clenched. “That spineless worm.”

Her actions made sense, given this new information. She’d never wanted to play hostess at the house party. She hadn’t had a choice. The bastard had failed Phee and their children both, putting his own selfish needs before their welfare.

“But that isn’t all.” Aphrodite’s countenance was utterly serious. “He also named his brother as the guardian to the children. She only has possession of Catherine and Reggie through Lord Timothy’s questionable benevolence. He holds the purse strings as well. The law in such matters entirely favors the father, as you know. He could decide to name his brother the guardian of his children over their mother, his wife. And he did so.”