about marrying the Duke of Dunsford, but that he could take a flying leap under the nearest set of speeding carriage wheels for all she cared. Caroline and Drayton, interested only in her happiness, would be understanding and respectful of her decision. And they’d most definitely appreciate that she’d called off the engagement before they’d spent a fortune on an announcement ball that wasn’t going to be one.
Although, come to think of it, Carrie and Drayton weren’t planning an engagement ball from scratch; they were simply modifying the purpose of a gala event they’d long ago scheduled. They could easily make it not an engagement ball again.
Fiona arched a brow as a bolt of lightning lit up the world and thunder shook the foundation of the house. A not-so-nice Fiona wouldn’t let a cad like Ian Cabott off the hook quite so neatly and easily. No, she’d delay rescinding her acceptance of the duke’s proposal until the very last possible moment. And then do everything within her feminine power to make sure that, between this moment and that final one, he came to truly appreciate the wonder and joy he was going to lose.
And if that didn’t work … Well, then she’d have to see how Simone felt about running him through.
Chapter Six
The next morning arrived clear and bright, all traces of the storm gone and the world washed clean. Fiona sat at her dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror and pondering the course of the resolution she’d made in the midst of the tempest. Just exactly how did a woman go about weaving her feminine wiles? she wondered. She considered each of the women in her life and how they had … well, for the lack of a better word, captured their husbands.
Caroline had been thoroughly competent and efficient, making over Drayton’s country house from top to bottom in record time and then graciously entertaining all of Lady Aubrey’s idiot friends. Simone had thrown a knife into Tristan’s back. Yes, there’d been considerable intrigue in their relationship leading up to that moment, but as defining moments went, it was quintessentially Simone. As for Aunt Jane … Sex. Freely given. It really wasn’t any more complicated than that.
Wondering just what skills she might have, Fiona glanced around the room, her gaze coming to rest on Beeps lying in the center of the feather comforter, diligently cleaning his face and ears. Her heart filled at the sight of him so contentedly going on with his life after having come so close to losing it. If it hadn’t been for Ian’s compassion …
Clenching her teeth, Fiona struggled against a tide of guilt and second thoughts, reminding herself that the esteemed Dr. Ian Cabott hadn’t been willing to help Beeps until she’d pointed a gun at his chest and given him only one other choice. Then he’d let her fall asleep in his surgery so that she was in a compromised position when she finally woke. The ever so businesslike marriage proposal counted against him, too. And the affair with Aunt Jane … a good meter of icing on the huge cake of his shortcomings.
No, all things considered, Ian Cabott, the Duke of Dunsford, deserved to be taken down by at least a dozen pegs. How to do it, though …
She didn’t have any particular skills. She couldn’t design and sew as Carrie could. Despite having pointed the gun at the duke, her skills at creating mayhem and physical injury weren’t anywhere near those Simone possessed. She’d been absolutely desperate; Simone did such things as a matter of instinct and usual course. As for freely giving her body à la Aunt Jane … Well, that was a bad idea for any number of reasons, not the least of which was that as a virgin she didn’t have a well of expertise from which to draw, and since the whole goal was to make the duke regret losing her … No, better to let him imagine what could have been rather than risk having him utterly relieved at being shed of an awkward, novice
Although, come to think of it, Carrie and Drayton weren’t planning an engagement ball from scratch; they were simply modifying the purpose of a gala event they’d long ago scheduled. They could easily make it not an engagement ball again.
Fiona arched a brow as a bolt of lightning lit up the world and thunder shook the foundation of the house. A not-so-nice Fiona wouldn’t let a cad like Ian Cabott off the hook quite so neatly and easily. No, she’d delay rescinding her acceptance of the duke’s proposal until the very last possible moment. And then do everything within her feminine power to make sure that, between this moment and that final one, he came to truly appreciate the wonder and joy he was going to lose.
And if that didn’t work … Well, then she’d have to see how Simone felt about running him through.
Chapter Six
The next morning arrived clear and bright, all traces of the storm gone and the world washed clean. Fiona sat at her dressing table, staring at her reflection in the mirror and pondering the course of the resolution she’d made in the midst of the tempest. Just exactly how did a woman go about weaving her feminine wiles? she wondered. She considered each of the women in her life and how they had … well, for the lack of a better word, captured their husbands.
Caroline had been thoroughly competent and efficient, making over Drayton’s country house from top to bottom in record time and then graciously entertaining all of Lady Aubrey’s idiot friends. Simone had thrown a knife into Tristan’s back. Yes, there’d been considerable intrigue in their relationship leading up to that moment, but as defining moments went, it was quintessentially Simone. As for Aunt Jane … Sex. Freely given. It really wasn’t any more complicated than that.
Wondering just what skills she might have, Fiona glanced around the room, her gaze coming to rest on Beeps lying in the center of the feather comforter, diligently cleaning his face and ears. Her heart filled at the sight of him so contentedly going on with his life after having come so close to losing it. If it hadn’t been for Ian’s compassion …
Clenching her teeth, Fiona struggled against a tide of guilt and second thoughts, reminding herself that the esteemed Dr. Ian Cabott hadn’t been willing to help Beeps until she’d pointed a gun at his chest and given him only one other choice. Then he’d let her fall asleep in his surgery so that she was in a compromised position when she finally woke. The ever so businesslike marriage proposal counted against him, too. And the affair with Aunt Jane … a good meter of icing on the huge cake of his shortcomings.
No, all things considered, Ian Cabott, the Duke of Dunsford, deserved to be taken down by at least a dozen pegs. How to do it, though …
She didn’t have any particular skills. She couldn’t design and sew as Carrie could. Despite having pointed the gun at the duke, her skills at creating mayhem and physical injury weren’t anywhere near those Simone possessed. She’d been absolutely desperate; Simone did such things as a matter of instinct and usual course. As for freely giving her body à la Aunt Jane … Well, that was a bad idea for any number of reasons, not the least of which was that as a virgin she didn’t have a well of expertise from which to draw, and since the whole goal was to make the duke regret losing her … No, better to let him imagine what could have been rather than risk having him utterly relieved at being shed of an awkward, novice
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