Chapter Seven

F iona rushed into Cherish’s bedchamber as soon as they returned from their shopping excursion. “Trouble,” she said, her face looking quite pale as she shut the door behind her and then leaned against it with a groan.

Cherish had been about to stretch out on her bed and read a book, but she immediately set aside her reading material and rose to rush toward her friend. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“I am in the pink. It is that woman.”

Cherish shook her head. “What woman?”

“Did you not notice a fine carriage draw up beside ours just as we were leaving town?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must have seen the brazen hussy who popped her head out of the window and called to Gawain. Shameless, evil woman.”

Cherish arched an eyebrow. “Friend of yours?”

“Do not even jest about this.”

“Very well. Yes, I saw her. She is quite beautiful. Who is she?”

“She is the widowed Countess Albin now, but she was Gawain’s childhood sweetheart, Katherine de Montville.”

Cherish’s heart sank into her toes.

No, not merely sank, but plunged to her toes.

She sat down heavily on the bed. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. She is going to ruin all our plans.”

Cherish felt numb.

How was she ever to compete with this woman who was classically beautiful and obviously wealthy, if her elegant carriage and the gleaming jewels dangling from her wrist and throat were any indication? This meant she had been provided for by a husband who understood his duty in protecting the financial security of his loved ones.

Why couldn’t her father have been such a man?

But her toad of an uncle had fooled them all, pretending to idolize and adore his elder brother even though they were only brothers of the half-blood. He had hidden his jealousy well.

But she and her parents were also to blame for allowing this situation to befall her. They had been na?ve and simply accepted the vile toad despite telltale signs they would have spotted had they been the least bit cynical.

Well, too late now. What was done was done.

She turned her thoughts to Lady Albin. Cherish had caught a mere glimpse of her, but it was enough to notice how sophisticated and exquisitely striking she was with her catlike green eyes, a perfectly formed nose, creamy complexion, and stunning, dark curls. And now to be told she and the duke had known and adored each other all of their lives?

How could she compete with this?

Fiona began to pace across the exquisite Aubusson carpet that covered the hardwood floor of her bedchamber. “Blast the conniving woman. She cornered me and I had to invite her to supper this evening. I’m so sorry, Cherish. This is an awful turn of events.”

Cherish felt too numb to respond.

Fiona paused in her pacing and stared at her. “I hate that woman for how badly she hurt Gawain.”

“What happened between them?” Cherish asked, barely managing a breath.

“Plenty, I’m sure. I mean, she could not have been a virgin when she entered into her marriage.”

“Fiona!”

“Well, it is true. Who can resist Gawain? But he was no cad. He was born noble and would never hurt a genteel young lady in that way. He wanted to marry her. He thought she wished for the same or he never would have claimed her in that way.”

Cherish tried not to ache over what her friend was revealing. “Obviously, something went wrong between them.”

“It wasn’t his doing, that I can assure you. He loved her and would have moved heaven and earth to marry her. But she went to London for her debut Season and not three months later came home married to the Earl of Albin. Gawain was devastated. She had been proclaiming her love for him all the while, but he now realized she had been lying to him all along.”

“Perhaps her family situation required her to—”

“Make the sacrifice and marry Albin? No, she was quite secure. But now she has doubled or tripled her wealth and gained a title, too. She never once told Gawain she was sorry. In fact, she was surprisingly mercenary about it all. She assured Gawain that she did not love Albin, and then told him they could be together whenever Albin wasn’t around.”

“Good heavens,” Cherish said, placing a hand to her stomach as it roiled, “even I know he would never do such a deceitful thing, and I’ve known him less than a week.”

Fiona nodded. “I am completely overset by her sudden reappearance. We were doing so well in our plan and now it has been completely undone.”

“ Your plan, Fiona. It was never mine.” But Cherish ached so badly inside, for she had held on to a slim hope of gaining his love.

Well, it would never happen now.

Fiona resumed her pacing and then paused again to stare at her. “Perhaps we ought to go along with Gawain’s plan and match you to Reggie.”

“No.” Cherish shot off the bed. “First of all, it isn’t fair to Reggie. Second of all”—she emitted a long, ragged breath—“I have fallen in love with him, Fiona. Oh, how could I be so stupid as to lose my heart to that Silver Duke? I knew your scheme was dangerous, but I could not stop myself. There were moments I thought he might like me in return, but it was all fanciful wishing on my part. I see this now.”

“No, you were not imagining it,” Fiona said, coming to her side and taking her hands in her own. “He does like you. Very much, I’m sure. I’ve noticed how he responds whenever you walk into a room. His eyes light up. And he turns into a jealous ape whenever some other man dares approach you.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“Because he tries to hide his feelings from you. So typical of him,” she muttered, shaking her head. “But I know my cousin and see right through him. There is something between the two of you, I am certain of it. If only she hadn’t walked back into his life to interfere.”

Unfortunately, the woman had shown up, and Cherish did not know what to do about it. “How can I compete with someone he once loved that fiercely?”

Fiona pursed her lips and frowned. “By being you. Gawain is older and wiser now, and more cynical. He has to know better than to ever trust her again. But he trusts you, as well he should. You are loyal and honest. Frankly, you are good to a fault. You have to fight for him, Cherish. We cannot let that horrid woman win.”

Cherish hated when her friend got that determined look in her eyes, but said nothing when Fiona released her hands and resumed pacing while she thought aloud. “We have several things working in our favor. First, Gawain will never forget what she did to him. She is the one who betrayed him and turned him into the cold Silver Duke he has become. Second, and more important, I doubt she has changed her character. We must use this to our advantage. He has to see her for the mercenary and unfeeling woman she has always been.”

“But what if he cannot or will not see through her feminine wiles? He is a duke now, and she will certainly accept his offer of marriage.”

“Assuming he proposes to her.” Fiona gripped her by the shoulders. “He never will if he is in love with you. This is a war, and you need to fight it. Only you are capable of defeating her.”

“Fiona, how am I ever to do it? I am not an accomplished flirt. I have no dazzling gowns. And I am no competition for her in looks.”

“You are completely wrong about all of it, especially in the matter of looks. You are far prettier.”

“Says my best friend who is wonderful and supportive, and blinded by the fact that she adores me,” Cherish said with a chuckle. “Honestly, Fiona. You have to look upon the situation objectively. It is a lost cause.”

“Never say such a thing. You cannot give up before you have even tried. Gawain would not want you to.”

“Gawain, is it? One look at her and he has forgotten I exist.”

Fiona sighed. “Let’s just see how this evening progresses. Perhaps we are in a panic over nothing.”

Cherish knew the danger was quite real.

She wanted to fight for him, but she was so inexperienced around men. Nor was she the sort to shimmer and glitter around them like a sparkling butterfly. She was a miserable failure at the art of flirtation. How was she ever to win his heart?

Well, she could not be anything other than herself.

He had already been hurt deeply by one woman lying about her feelings, so Cherish was not going to make that same mistake and put on a false face to tempt him, no matter how well intentioned her motives.

Fiona was already digging into her armoire and sorting through her gowns. “Oh, yes. This one will do quite nicely.”

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 had no 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 her and 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 her mind 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?

It was just an evening’s conversation, so she would not make too much of it.

Lord Fellstone was not the only gentleman she spoke to as they dined. In fact, she engaged in conversation with everyone at her end of the table and was now certain Fiona had planned this seating arrangement on purpose.

Lord Durham and Lady Margaret were seated immediately across from her. Cherish’s heart went out to Lady Margaret, because the conversation was a bit too intellectual at their end of the table and the girl appeared to be struggling to keep up. When the conversation reached a lull, Cherish commented on Lady Margaret’s necklace. “It is beautiful. Is it an opal?”

The girl cast her an appreciative smile. “Yes, a gift from my uncle. He is an admiral in the Royal Navy and was assigned to the South China Seas most recently. He brought this necklace back for me. I think it is quite beautiful, too. Prettier than diamonds or emeralds. And your cameo is lovely, Lady Cherish. I love those, too.”

The conversation then turned to her uncle’s travels and those of the gentlemen at the table. Lord Durham was surprisingly well traveled. “I spent quite some time in Italy and Greece, in addition to seeing much of the world. There is no denying their ancient sites, their food and culture, are all fascinating. But there is no place as beautiful as England. I am happy to be back home and in the company of my closest friends.”

Cherish had to admit she was enjoying herself despite her heartache. She tried very hard not to glance down the table to where the duke was seated, but curiosity finally got the better of her, and she looked.

To her surprise, he happened to be looking back at her.

She smiled at him.

Oh, she probably should have sniffed and tossed her chin into the air. Or ignored him and turned away. But her instincts were to be honest, even if she were ultimately humiliated by her feelings. He had gone on about how no one knew who he really was or cared to know anything about him beyond his title and wealth. He detested insincerity and dishonesty.

If she were to win him, she sensed it would only be done by remaining true to her natural self with all her faults, flaws, and foibles laid out in the open for him to view. But she had many good qualities for him to notice, as well.

A few minutes later, they exchanged glances again. Once again, she smiled at him because she sincerely liked him and it felt like the right thing to do.

He took a sip of his wine and then smiled back. Her heart lurched when he took another sip and then winked at her. She also blushed, the heat immediately coursing up her neck and into her cheeks.

Well, so much for coming across as sultry.

She looked down at the food on her plate, a crisped duck atop a bed of cauliflower and potatoes, and took a hasty bite. Delicious.

She tried not to look his way again.

“I understand we are to have dancing again tonight,” Lord Fellstone said.

Fiona nodded. “A full orchestra this evening so that Lady Cherish is not chained to the pianoforte while we are all having fun. You must claim two dances from her, Lord Fellstone, in order to make up for those nights she lost while helping us out.”

“It will be my pleasure,” he replied with a nod, then asked Cherish if she would allow him to claim a second.

She nodded. “I would like that very much.”

Fellstone was about Reggie’s age and quite nice looking. Fiona had already filled her in on most of his details. She knew he was the eldest son of a profligate earl. She also knew the old earl, having lived a life of excessive drinking and gambling, was no longer in the best of health and not expected to survive the year. This meant Fellstone would inherit an earldom that consisted of a rather run-down estate.

It was a shame, for Fellstone appeared to be a clever and kind fellow, not at all inclined to follow in his father’s wastrel footsteps. Given the choice, he was the sort who would have chosen a love match for himself. But he was soon to be saddled with a ruined earldom, and this would require him to find an heiress unless he wished to spend his life struggling to bring the estate back to profitability during his lifetime.

For this reason, Cherish doubted he was free to pursue her in earnest.

This also assumed he was genuinely interested in her and had not been bribed by Fiona or Reggie. Well, it did not matter. She resolved to have a good time and not dwell on anything serious tonight.

However, maintaining a light and jovial fa?ade was not as easy as she’d hoped. Her heart was lost to the Duke of Bromleigh, and seeing him with his first love was quite hard to endure. Settling her feelings elsewhere was impossible while she still loved him.

Still loved him?

What was wrong with her? She had known him only a few days. How could she love him at all upon so short an acquaintance?

And yet she was in love with him. It was ridiculous, but how could she deny her feelings? He had claimed her heart, and she could not move on until all hope of his reciprocating that love was lost.

She stared into her lemon syllabub, taking small bites of the creamy dessert with her spoon, grateful Fiona’s cook had put very little white wine in it. That would have turned the dessert to liquid and made it more of a drink than a sweet treat to end their repast.

Wine had been poured liberally throughout their meal, and Cherish found herself a little giddy by the time the ladies rose to take their tea and sherry in the parlor while the men remained behind for their ports, brandies, and smokes.

She tried not to glance at the duke as she passed by his chair on her way out, but he was awfully hard to ignore as he stood along with the other men, looking magnificently sleek and powerful.

The wicked countess had remained beside him, no doubt curious to see what he would do as she passed. Goodness, this woman was crafty and manipulative.

In the next moment, the evil woman stuck her foot out and tripped Cherish. She cried out, finding herself about to fall.

“Cherish!” The duke caught her before she tumbled. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, having safely landed in his arms. “Yes, how clumsy of me,” she said, her heart racing at the near disaster. “I…I must have tripped on something.”

How could she tell him that his first love had purposely stuck out her foot to send her toppling? Would he believe her?

His arms remained circled around her. “You look a bit unsteady on your feet. Fiona’s cook put a little extra spirits in everything tonight. Take a moment to catch your breath. I have you.”

She nodded again, just wanting to stay in his embrace all night.

“You look exceptionally pretty, by the way. What have you done differently?”

“Fiona had her maid help me with my hair, and she chose my gown. Otherwise, I would have looked like my usual country mouse self.”

He frowned. “You have never looked like a mouse. But tonight”—his frown melted away and he grinned—“you are a breathtaking angel.”

Truly? Did he think so?

She laughed. “Fiona will be pleased her efforts were a success.”

“Top marks for her,” he said in a husky whisper, and then released her.

She walked off to the parlor, knowing she had made an enemy of the countess, who now followed closely behind. Cherish felt the icy feline gaze at her back. The woman’s scheme to trip her had worked to throw her into the duke’s arms instead. Not at all what that evil woman had intended.

Lady Margaret approached Cherish as she entered the parlor. The girl was frowning and appeared worried. “Lady Cherish, may I have a word with you?”

Cherish nodded. “Of course. What is wrong?”

Margaret led her aside so they could speak in private. “My parents are pushing me toward the Duke of Bromleigh, but he is too old for me and I do not want him.”

Cherish smothered a chortle. “Well, he is not all that old.”

“He is almost my father’s age, and… Well, he is always scowling, and he frightens me. I rather like his nephew, Lord Burton. He is fun and cheerful, but he enjoys your company far more than he does mine because you are so clever and I am not. He likes intelligent women, and I shall never be that. In truth, I have never felt more stupid than at supper tonight.”

Cherish put her hand lightly over Lady Margaret’s. “No, you were pleasant and charming. Everyone thought you were delightful.”

“I was a dolt and everyone knew it. I could hardly follow any of the conversations until you turned the topic to my opal and my uncle’s travels. Thank you for that. It was a much easier topic for me to follow, and I could actually speak on the subject without sounding like the peahen they all think I am.” Margaret emitted a ragged sigh and continued. “You are so very smart, and I much admire you. Can you teach me to be clever?”

“So that you can impress Lord Burton?”

She blushed. “Yes, but do you mind? I know he likes you. Even if he did not, I would not interfere if you liked him. He deserves someone as wonderful as you.”

“Oh, Margaret, I do not think I am all that wonderful. But I do hope you and I shall become friends.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically. “I would love that.”

“As for Lord Burton, he and I are friends and that is all. If you care for him, then by all means, go after him.”

Margaret’s eyes rounded in obvious surprise. “Then I have your permission?”

Cherish had noticed Reggie’s growing attraction to Margaret as well. But the girl was right in believing he did not take her seriously enough yet. He thought she was fun and quite pretty, but he was used to smart women like Fiona, so it was very possible he would dismiss Margaret as a frivolous bauble unless Cherish and Fiona helped her out.

On top of that, Reggie was distracted with their scheme to lure the duke into marrying her . The ups and downs of that subterfuge confused even her, and she knew what was going on. How was Margaret ever to compete with that?

Not that Cherish approved of Fiona’s schemes or Reggie’s eagerness to participate in them. She was participating as well, she supposed. But only because she truly believed she had fallen in love with the duke.

Did it count as scheming if one was truly in love? She hoped not, because she did not like to consider herself as nefarious as Lady Albin.

Margaret hugged her and then left her side after Cherish assured her that she would give her lessons on the topics men found interesting. But the moment Margaret happily flitted away, the wicked countess approached.

Cherish’s heart beat faster and her palms became moist and clammy. However, she tried her best to hide her turmoil and appear composed. “Good evening, Lady Albin.”

The woman eyed her. “You are not his sort, at all.”

What sort was that? Heartless and selfish?

Cherish kept her chin raised so that she squarely met the woman’s gaze. “To whom are you referring? I have so many gentlemen after me, it is sometimes hard to tell.”

Oh, dear heaven. What possessed her to spew such drivel?

“Bromleigh, of course. There is no one else here worthy of notice.”

Cherish nodded. “Yes, he is quite noteworthy.”

“But he is mine, so keep away from him if you know what is good for you.”

Cherish had never been threatened over a man before. It was laughable, but also worrisome because the threat came from the countess. Well, she would consult Fiona and Reggie about it later. The woman could do her little harm while she was surrounded by others. Tripping Cherish, as the countess had done earlier, was relatively harmless.

But Cherish hated the thought of that evil woman spilling something on her lovely gown to ruin it. Well, she would make certain to avoid her if she had any food or drink in her hands. A simple enough solution.

The men joined them soon afterward, and Lord Fellstone immediately strode to her side to escort her into the music room, where the orchestra was now setting up. “I thought I had better claim the first dance,” he said, tossing her an appreciative smile. “You look lovely tonight, and all the gentlemen have noticed.”

“That is curious.” She dismissed his comment as flattery, and was surprised when others indeed approached to claim a dance.

Her jaw dropped when the Duke of Bromleigh approached her as well. “The first waltz is mine.”

She nodded. “Yes, I did promise it to you and haven’t forgotten.” After all, he had been the one to teach her the steps, and she did not trust herself yet in the arms of anyone else. He understood it would not only be the first waltz of the evening, but her very first ever attempt at a waltz.

She counted the minutes. She danced the opening quadrille with Lord Fellstone and then two country reels with other gentlemen.

Then suddenly, her Silver Duke was by her side in all his radiance. It was curious she thought of him as some sort of a sun god, because he always wore dark clothes and had not a hint of popinjay colors on him. Even his cravats and waistcoats were rarely anything other than gray or a deep emerald green.

Cherish forgot to breathe.

A smile teased the corners of his lips, and his hand felt warm and comforting as he wrapped it around hers to lead her onto the dance floor.

Lady Albin was prowling along the edges like a predatory cat, her movements graceful and feline, but obviously agitated. This woman did not like to lose.

Neither did the duke.

Cherish hoped she was not about to be embroiled in another game. Had he insisted on dancing with her only to make Lady Albin jealous? It did not seem to be his style. He was not the sort to use people, especially not her. He had wanted her for Reggie and been honest about it from the start, sparing not five minutes before telling her the truth about his purpose. Cherish knew she could trust him.

“Your Grace,” she said, taking in the wonderful scent of bay spice on his skin as he put one glorious arm around her waist and drew her close. “Why are you scowling? We needn’t dance if—”

“I want to dance with you, Cherish. Forgive me if you thought I was scowling at you.”

“What is troubling you, then?”

He regarded her quite seriously, focused on her and paying no heed to the chatter going on around them. “Lady Albin was the one who tripped you, wasn’t she?”

Cherish nodded. “Yes, but I am sure it was an accident.”

“Why are you protecting her?”

“I did not think I was. I merely meant to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

He snorted. “Do you seriously have a doubt as to her intention?”

“No,” she admitted. “Are you going to pass a remark to her? She will deny doing it on purpose.”

He did not reply.

Instead, he twirled her in time to the music, holding her in his arms as though she were someone precious to him. It was simply his way, and she refused to read more into it. He was experienced with women and must have learned early on how to make them feel special when in his arms.

As for her, she was completely overwhelmed. She closed her eyes and pretended no one existed but the two of them.

When she opened them, she found him looking at her with a smoldering gaze that shot flames through her.

Dear heaven.

It was ridiculous, of course. He meant nothing by it. They were twirling on a crowded dance floor and his former love was pacing on the sidelines, following their every movement.

Cherish looked up at him. “Your Grace, I am not familiar with the games played in your elite ton circles.”

He frowned lightly. “Do you think I am playing a game with you?”

“No, that is… I’m not certain what is happening just now. Would you kindly explain to me what is going on?”