Page 7 of Her Duke to Seduce
She paused before the mirror, taking one final look at the scarlet gown she had commissioned for the occasion. Her auntshould never have left her alone with the seamstress. The gown was expertly fashioned, featuring a square neckline that elegantly framed her décolletage. Delicate gold embroidery had been woven in intricate floral patterns, tracing the edge of the neckline and extending down the fitted bodice, emphasizing her shape. Long, sheer sleeves of gauzy crimson lace fitted her arms and ended in a slight point over her hands, evoking an air of mystery. The deep red hue of the gown was both daring and dramatic. It symbolized passion and confidence—a bold choice for a lady who wished to make an impression.
Felicity fully intended to make an impression—the worst sort of one. She snickered at her reflection.
It was time. She had to descend the stairs and allow for her introduction—herdebut. Thetonwould not know what to make of her. She intended to court their scorn, to create a scandal so outrageous that she would remain unmarriageable. And if she could, she would boldly seduce a man and ensure the most desirable feature of any debutante—her innocence—was irrevocably ruined. No man wanted an unchaste wife. At least, not one who hoped to secure an heir.
Felicity floated down the stairs, the silk of her gown whispering against her skin with each step she took. When she reached the ballroom, she waited until she was announced, then entered. She should have been beside her aunt in the receiving line, but she had convinced her it would be far more memorable for Felicity to make an entrance instead.
She did not think for a moment that anyone would forget her—or her daring gown.
The ballroom was crammed with guests, a true crush. Aunt Enid’s ball, by all accounts, was a success. Felicity did not recognize a single soul in the room, nor did she wish to. She glided through the gathered throng, finally reaching her aunt’s side.
“The ball appears to be a success,” she said, her lips curving into a falsely sweet smile.
Her aunt’s eyeswidened in horror as she took in Felicity’s attire. She hissed in a low tone, “What are youwearing?”
“This,” Felicity replied, feigning innocence, “is my gown.”
“That dress,” Aunt Enid whispered furiously, “is not something aninnocentdebutante would wear. I daresay it is not even a gown a widow would wear.”
Felicity resisted the urge to laugh. Her aunt had been widowed for a few years. She had borne her husband the requisite heir but had failed to give him a second child. Still, her place was secure, and she had full controlof the household until her son came of age. Not that Aunt Enid needed financial security—Felicity’s father had ensured she was wealthy in her own right.
“There is nothing wrong with my gown,” Felicity said, rolling her eyes. “You are acting as if I paraded into the ballroom naked. Which, I assure you, I did not.”
Her aunt’s lips pressed into a firm line. “Itdraws the eyes…” she muttered. “I suppose it isn’t indecent, but it simply is notdone. You should be inpastels.”
“Pastels wash out my complexion,” Felicity countered. Her golden-blonde hair and fair skin were far better suited to bolder colors. “I thought you wanted to present me at mybestadvantage.”
Her aunt sighed in frustration. “You arecorrect. I did.” She shook her head. “I only wish you had discussed it with me beforehand.”
“If I had,” Felicity replied, “you would haveforbiddenit. And we both know it isfar betterto ask for forgiveness than permission. Don’t you agree?”
She smiled, the picture of feigned sweetness.
Aunt Enid exhaled heavily, shaking her head. “You are incorrigible,” she chided. “But you must tread carefully, dear. There is onlyso muchyou can do before skirting a true scandal.” She inhaled sharply, composing herself. “You have your dance card. Let’s see it filled.”
Felicity allowed her aunt to parade her about, introducing her to several gentlemenwhom she presumed her aunt considered suitable prospects. But Felicity did not care. She found them all insipid. Some werehandsome, she supposed, but none of them were remotely interesting.
Still, she allowed her dance card to be nearly filled, knowing it was expected. She left a few spaces blank on the off chance she found a gentleman she truly wanted to dance with. Thus far that had not been the case, but she believed in being prepared for any inevitability.
Each dance was moretedious than the last. The gentlemen were dull, uninspiring, and utterly predictable. One particularly clumsy partner had stepped on her toes so many times she was half tempted to feign an injury to escape the remainder of the evening.
She had needed air.
Excusing herself after a particularly tiresome quartet, Felicity slipped away from the crowded ballroom. She had no desire to endure another tiresome dance with another dull suitor. She longed for solitude, a brief respite from the suffocating heat of the ballroom and the constant hum of the crowd. Stepping onto the balcony, she inhaled deeply, the cool night air a welcome relief. Without hesitation, she descended thestone staircase into the gardens, the fragrant scent of blooming roses filling her lungs.
“That bad, is it?” A man with a deep, velvety voice seemed to emerge from the shadows.
Felicity halted. “Who is there?” she demanded.
A low chuckle echoed in the darkness. A moment later, a man stepped forward, the silver glow of moonlight casting his striking features into sharp relief. Something about him was familiar, though she could not immediately place it. But there was one thing she knew with absolute certainty. He was the most breathtakingly handsomeman she had ever encountered. His dark hair fell in an effortless wave across his forehead, and his eyes—good heavens, his eyes—were a shade of blue so deep, they appeared almost blackin the dim light. Something in his gaze smoldered, a flicker of devilish amusement lingering at the corners of his mouth.
A rogue—a scoundrel…. And if she had any doubts, the way he looked at her, as if he saw through every bit of her feigned innocence, confirmed it. She tilted her head, studying him.
Yes. This man would do. Her heart thundered with anticipation. She had found her rake—the perfect man to assist in her ruination. A slow, mischievous smile curved her lips as she stepped forward. It was time to enact her plan.
And he was the final piece she needed to see it done.
Three
