She withdrew a silk gown in a copper hue that Cherish rarely wore because the neckline plunged too low for her taste, although it was considered quite fashionable and appropriate for tonight’s supper. Whenever she did wear it, she attached a bit of lace at her bosom for modesty.
Fiona seemed to read her mind. “Do not take out your lace. I shall burn it if you dare pin it to the gown. You have the perfect cleavage, and Gawain’s eyes will pop wide at the first sight of you.”
Cherish laughed. “Fine, your not-so-subtle hint is understood. I happen to agree with your choice of gown. I can wear the cameo brooch with it, and I think that is important. He was so pleased when he helped me choose it, and I want him to be reminded of that.”
“Now you are catching on,” Fiona said with a smirk. “Let me find you a bit of silk ribbon to match, and we’ll make a choker out of it to hold the cameo at your throat. I’ll have my lady’s maid attend to your hair. She is a wonder. I’ll direct her exactly how to style it, and you are not to touch a wisp or curl of it. Trust me, Cherish. This is all-out war—and we are going to win it.”
Dear heaven.
But Cherish was pleased. The Duke of Bromleigh and his cousin were both competitive and hated to lose. She could see the similarities in their natures. Despite their compulsion to always win, they were also exceedingly honorable, loyal, and clever. Cherish would also add compassionate to their fine qualities. The duke gave the appearance of being icy, but she hadno doubt he would be the first to run to the aid of someone in distress.
By the time Fiona’s maid finished dressing her, Cherish did not recognize herself. She had never in her life considered herself sultry, but she was exactly that now. Every curl, every nip and tuck of silk, every detail, was designed to draw the duke’s eye toward some part of her body that was considered sensual.
She clapped her hands, not nearly as appalled by her alluring transformation as she ought to have been. “Take that, Your Grace,” she muttered to herself. “What do you think of me now?”
Reggie and Fiona stopped by her door so the three of them could walk downstairs together. Reggie’s eyes bugged wide the moment he caught sight of her. He burst out laughing. “Spectacular! What did you do? My uncle is going to bounce off the walls like a great ape.”
Cherish could not contain her own mirth. “The credit goes to Fiona and her maid. I had nothing to do with it.”
He shook his head. “Oh, you did. This is all you, Cherish. Well done. You are absolutely sparkling. I am in raptures over you myself.”
She blushed.
“Oh, gad! Blush like that when my uncle compliments you, and you will have him eating out of the palm of your hand. He will be completely undone.”
She doubted it, but was pleased they considered her much improved.
Her heart was pounding by the time she entered the parlor to join the others already assembled. To her disappointment, the duke was not there.
However, several men suddenly cast her admiring looks. One in particular, a handsome gentleman by the name of Lord Fellstone, had been circling around her for several days now and showing her particular attention. He noticed herand approached, requesting the privilege of escorting her into supper. Fiona had prepared her for the possibility of attracting suitors and advised her how to respond. “Why, yes. I should be delighted.”
Fiona had also instructed her to pay attention to everyone but the duke tonight.
Reggie had seconded it. “You have to pretend he doesn’t exist, Cherish. He has to be made to feel as though he is losing you.”
This would be hardest for her. She was so drawn to him, but also understood the necessity. He would never own up to his feelings unless desperate measures were taken. The ploy would either work spectacularly or completely blow up in her face. She feared the latter outcome, but was determined to see this scheme through to the end.
Fiona and Reggie would watch him and report their findings. They could then adjust their tactics as required.
Their battle plan suffered a tremendous blow when the duke walked in with Lady Albin on his arm. She wasn’t so much on his arm as clinging to it possessively, her cat eyes scanning the room for any rivals, and her claws firmly dug into him.
Cherish tried to appear indifferent, but she was so bad at these games.
To her surprise, his gaze shot to her almost immediately. He noticed the cameo brooch at her throat and cast her an affectionate smile. She placed a hand lightly to her throat and smiled back.
The exchange could not have lasted more than a heartbeat, but his wicked countess immediately caught on.
Oh, her claws were definitely out.
Cherish wished she had some claws of her own, but then she would not be herself. In all her life, it had never crossed hermind to be cruel to anyone. Well, there was nothing to be done but see how this night played out.
When the supper bell rang, Lord Fellstone led her into the dining room. “Fate is smiling upon us,” he said, noting Fiona’s seating arrangement. “Look, we are placed beside each other.”
Reggie sat to the other side of her.
Fiona, being hostess, was seated at the head of the table. Since the Duke of Bromleigh was her cousin and the highest-ranking gentleman present, he was placed at the opposite end and anchored that part of the table. Cherish was not sure why Fiona had chosen to seat the wicked countess beside him, but being a dullard about such strategies, she had to trust Fiona to know what she was doing.
Ignoring the Duke of Bromleigh was so hard for Cherish, but she tried her best. Lord Fellstone was quite charming and determined to occupy her attention. He appeared to sincerely enjoy their supper conversation, although Cherish was not certain why he had remained attentive even after learning of her reduced circumstances. Had Reggie and Fiona bribed him to appear besotted with her?
