“Men are visual creatures,” Ashley said from behind, smoothing the hem with the ease of a general preparing her soldier for the front lines. “The duke won’t know what hit him. That color does more foryou than all your mother’s gray and pale blue gowns combined. I’ve told you that for years.”
Maddie lifted her gaze. She hardly recognized herself.
Her hair, loosened from its usual prison of pins and practicality, tumbled into gentle curls. A touch of rouge, a soft sheen on her lips. It was her—and yet not. A different version. One no one else had ever met.
She looked down again. “I do admire your taste,” she said, dry as bone, “but surely catching a duke requires more than cleavage.”
Ashley tilted her head. “That’s how you start. If you want his heart, use your mind. But first—” she plucked a small glass bottle from the vanity “—we get his focus.”
The stopper popped. “Lilies and sweet orange. I chose it just for you.”
Maddie eyed the vial warily. “It’s not poison, is it?”
Ashley’s expression faltered. Just for a moment. But it was enough. “No, that I’d choose for Paisley.”
Maddie turned to face her. “What is it?”
Ashley set the bottle down. Her fingers lingered too long on the glass.
“You know how I feel about Paisley.”
Maddie exhaled. “Yes, yes, he wounded Thomas’s pride at Ascot.”
Ashley’s eyes snapped up. “He did more than that. He humiliated him. Stole from him. Tricked him. Publicly. Cruelly.”
Maddie blinked.
“Don’t get that look,” Ashley said, her voice sharp now. “I know he’s a duke. I know he’s titled and important and he walks into a room like he owns the world. But don’t forget—he’s human scum.”
“Harsh,” Maddie whispered, but her heart fluttered.True.
“No title will change that,” Ashley continued. “And I don’t want you, of all people, falling for a man just because he’s powerful and polished.You’re better than that.”
Maddie felt heat rise to her cheeks—not from the gown, or the rouge, or the indignity of her exposed bosom. But from the weight of Ashley’s words.
“You deserve a man who sees you,” Ashley said, softer now. “Not just your dress. Or your title. Or your potential to birth heirs.”
Maddie swallowed hard. The idea of Paisley’s heirs made her cringe. She glanced at the mirror again. The woman in the reflection looked… capable.
Capable of seducing a duke.
Capable of falling for one, too.
And possibly, terribly, capable of choosing wrong.
Perhaps she could redirect her capability to a better man? Not just another title, another candidate, but a better man with a heart and soul? Perhaps she could just stand up to her mother this once.
Maddie sniffed. “It smells lovely.”
“Dab your wrists. Neckline, too.”
“What exactly will thisdo?”
“Men are ruled by more than their eyes. Scent matters. And speaking of senses…” Ashley’s gaze flicked upward. “You’ll want to touch him.”
Maddie blinked. “Touch him?”
“Dancing, ideally. Or if fate’s kind, a near fall into his arms will suffice.”
