To Tame a Dangerous Lord (29 page)

“Didn’t you say that he is away on business?” Arabella asked. “How much time do we have before he returns home?”

“I am not certain,” she admitted. “That is part of the problem—I am not really a part of his life so he didn’t feel the need to keep me informed of his plans.”

“Well, we will soon change that,” her neighbor said with conviction. “But we had best spend the entire day in London. While Madame Rousseau is fitting you, I will send word to Fanny and ask her to receive us this afternoon if she can manage to break free. And in between, we can visit the shops. You needn’t worry, Madeline. Roslyn and I will ensure that you have the perfect wardrobe, and Fanny will oversee the rest. Between the three of us, we will turn you into a bride that Haviland cannot fail to notice.”

Madeline smiled tentatively, feeling optimistic for the first time since speaking her wedding vows. She’d been crushingly disheartened when Rayne had left her bed so unceremoniously, but now she saw the silver lining in his abrupt departure. She could make use of his absence to turn herself from a caterpillar into a butterfly. No doubt it would take quite some time and effort.

   They called for Roslyn on the way to the dressmaker’s salon, and Arabella spent the short drive to Madame Rousseau’s explaining to her sister what was needed. Madeline soon learned how fortunate she was to be taken under their wing.

Their attempt to turn her into a fashionable lady began with making countless decisions from an overwhelming number of options. Together they pored over
sketches of various garment styles and designs and debated a dizzying array of fabrics and colors before winnowing down selections. The choices the sisters made in conjunction with Madame Rousseau were exquisite—beautifully cut apparel that shouted taste and refinement and that slimmed and flattered Madeline’s buxom figure.

She felt awed by the result, and more than once had to fight a lump in her throat. She had never owned many pretty gowns—had refused to let herself yearn for them, in fact—so suddenly experiencing such riches was like awakening in a fairy tale.

The entire morning was devoted to gowns and outer garments. After partaking of a light luncheon supplied by the modiste, the ladies set out to visit other shops that were the next-highest priority … milliners for hats and bonnets and cobblers for shoes and slippers. Since time was growing short until their appointment with Fanny at three o’clock, Arabella suggested they return to London later in the week for such accessories as chemises and petticoats and corsets, silk stockings and garters, gloves, fans, and jewelry.

Madeline’s confidence in their plan grew as the day wore on, in large part because Arabella and Roslyn were so certain it would work. Roslyn’s graciousness and warmth was particularly infectious. She was every bit as approachable and understanding as Arabella, and she heartily approved of the proposal to involve their notorious friend Fanny Irwin, responding with a private disclosure of her own when Madeline admitted her hopes about her marriage.

“This past summer,” Roslyn confessed, her tone one
of sympathy and kindness, “I sought Fanny’s advice about making a gentleman fall in love with me. If you wish to make Haviland love you, you could not find a better champion than Fanny.”

If you wish to make Haviland love you
. Madeline felt her breath catch at the simple phrase. She had set her sights on making Rayne
desire
her, thinking that would be a daunting enough task. But now she let herself wonder if it would be possible to win his heart.

No, you would be a fool to raise your hopes so high
, Madeline scolded herself. It would be enough to have Rayne want her. Besides, she added, striving to dampen her rash optimism, to achieve even that much, the courtesan would have to be an utter miracle worker.

   It took very little time later that afternoon, however, for Madeline to decide Fanny Irwin indeed might be able to work miracles.

Shortly after arriving at the courtesan’s private residence in a quiet, surprisingly elegant neighborhood north of Hyde Park, the sisters left her in Fanny’s capable hands, with Arabella promising to call back for her in two hours.

“Give us three hours,” Fanny said briskly, acknowledging the difficulty of the challenge ahead of her.

Shepherding her guest up the staircase to the second floor, Fanny led the way through her bedchamber and into a well-lit dressing room, then got right down to business by ordering Madeline to remove her pelisse and gown and corset.

Madeline felt extremely self-conscious when she had stripped down to her shift, but Fanny appeared oblivious
to any discomfiture. Frowning, the courtesan walked in a slow circle around Madeline, studying her closely while analyzing her physical assets and drawbacks.

“Your eyes are definitely your best feature,” she finally proclaimed.

Madeline couldn’t disagree. Only her eyes had any real claim to beauty.

“But you also have a very pleasing figure, lithe and curvaceous. The kind of body men dream of. Surely your husband has noticed.”

When Madeline felt herself flushing, Fanny smiled dismissively. “If I am to advise you, Lady Haviland, you must overcome your modesty at once, for I intend to go into much more intimate detail with you before we are done. As I was saying, you have the lush sort of body that appeals greatly to men.”

Her gaze left Madeline’s lavish breasts and returned to her face. “Your lips are unfashionably full, but that again is fortunate, since men will tend to think of you as kissable. Has no gentleman ever attempted to steal a kiss from you?”

“Once or twice,” Madeline conceded. Actually Baron Ackerby had attempted it more frequently, but an arrogant roué did not count as a gentleman, despite his noble rank.

Fanny made another slow circle, then seated Madeline at a dressing table before a large mirror and turned her attention to her client’s mass of ordinary brown hair.

“The color is acceptable but the style … Do you always wear your hair scraped back so severely?”

“Yes.” She normally coiled her hair into a knot at her nape or plaited it up neatly.

Fanny shook her head in disapproval as she pulled the pins from Madeline’s tresses. “Men usually relish long hair, so we shan’t shorten the length, but we must do something to soften your face … some curled tendrils over your forehead and at your temples.”

Since it was similar advice to what Rayne had given her, Madeline didn’t dissent.

“I will have my hairdresser cut and style your hair later, but meanwhile … I expect the most immediate impact we can have will be to pluck your eyebrows somewhat. They are far too heavy for your face and make you appear more masculine than you should. Can you see what I mean?”

“Yes,” Madeline answered again, observing her dark, slashing eyebrows in the mirror while Fanny’s inspection continued.

“Your complexion is fine enough, but the hue is too sallow. You would benefit from the judicious use of cosmetics. A little rouge on your cheeks and kohl about the eyes will allow you to make the most of your features. And I can teach you several other tricks to whiten your skin … barley water, lemon juice, milk baths. Even so….”

Fanny resumed frowning. “You can take more pains with your appearance and enhance your physical attributes to increase your husband’s attraction for you, but when it comes to winning his devotion for the long term, it is your manner and actions that will serve you best.”

Madeline stared at her in surprise. It seemed strange to hear a woman as strikingly beautiful as Fanny suggest that demeanor was more important than beauty. “What exactly do you mean by manners and actions?”

“Wait here, my lady….”

Behind her, Fanny turned away and left the dressing room. When she returned, she was carrying a slim leather-bound volume that she handed to Madeline.

The book was entitled
Advice to Young Ladies on Capturing a Husband
by an Anonymous Lady. Looking up, Madeline saw that Fanny wore a secretive smile rather than a frown.

“Very few people know that I penned this,” Fanny commented.

“You
are the anonymous lady author?”

“Yes. This was actually my first attempt at earning an income outside my current profession, and it has sold quite well. But I have since tried my hand at writing a Gothic novel, since that genre can be much more lucrative. I would like to leave the demimonde, you see, so that I might marry a respectable gentleman I have my sights on, and I calculate that my best chance is to develop a successful career as a novelist.”

Madeline surveyed the courtesan with genuine admiration and relief. It was not only flattering that Fanny would trust her enough to reveal her secret hopes, her confession put Madeline at ease for the first time since arriving.

“I should dearly love to hear
that
story, Miss Irwin,” she said with a hint of amusement. “Without a doubt, you are one of the most fascinating people I have ever met.”

Fanny laughed. “I will gladly tell you my tale, my lady, but for now, we should focus our efforts on you. Why don’t you read my book later and then we can discuss it in depth next time we meet?”

“I certainly will,” Madeline said, thumbing through the pages.

“It contains a great deal of general information about relationships between the sexes, but I suspect I will need to be much more explicit with you. You are fairly inexperienced in the arts of seduction, aren’t you?”

Madeline sent her a rueful smile. “I am afraid so.”

“Well, we will change that very shortly. Perhaps you should tell me how you and Lord Haviland came to be married.”

And so it was that Madeline found herself confessing some of her own most private secrets—how she and Rayne had met, how he felt obligated to protect her because of her late father, how Rayne had proposed to her and then pursued her until she agreed, how he had left her bed abruptly on their wedding night.

“I admit it was mortifying,” Madeline finished in a small voice, “and painfully disappointing.”

Fanny nodded in understanding. “Clearly you surrendered too easily by accepting his offer of marriage so soon. Trust me, men like your husband want a challenge, which leads me to another point. You cannot let him discover that you have fallen in love with him. Wearing your heart on your sleeve is almost certain to frighten off a man.”

Madeline’s smile was wry. “You mean I shouldn’t let on that I think my husband the most wonderful man I have ever known?”

“Not quite,” Fanny said with surprising seriousness. “Overtly admiring a man is an excellent way to increase his ardor. I meant that you shouldn’t appear so enamored of him that he knows he has the upper hand. You must keep him guessing. He should be striving to win
you
. Since Haviland obviously considers his courtship of you over, you will have to court him instead.”

“Court him?”

“Yes, but very subtly, of course. You cannot let him know you are pursuing him. You must become a seductress without him divining your real intentions.”

“A seductress?” Madeline repeated, her voice rising even higher.

“Don’t worry, I will teach you how.” Fanny’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “What do you know about your husband’s personal affairs? I have not heard of Haviland engaging in any amorous liaisons here in London. If he keeps a mistress here in town, he has been very discreet about it.”

Madeline froze. Rayne had said he needed to be in London for what he termed “business.” She hoped that was indeed the case. The possibility that he might have a mistress was too depressing to consider. “I wouldn’t know,” she conceded.

“Well, no matter. If he does have an inamorata now, you will just have to tempt him away from her, so that you are the only woman he wishes to have in his bed. But by the time I have finished instructing you, you will be able to make him half-crazed with desire for you—and passion is only a few steps away from making a man love you beyond reason. Now let me call my dresser so we may get started.”

Two hours later, Madeline stared at herself in the mirror with disbelief. Her entire appearance was altered. The slender wings of her brows, the delicate rose tinge of her cheekbones, the curled wisps framing her face, the touch of kohl highlighting and emphasizing her large
gray eyes, all contributed to making her appear a different woman than the plain, dowdy spinster who had walked into Fanny’s private quarters.

She looked almost … Pretty was too tame a word. And she was not precisely beautiful. Compelling, perhaps. Definitely intriguing.

And even more crucial than Fanny improving her looks, she had spent more than an hour giving Madeline a frank, explicit, eye-opening tutelage on the art of making love to her husband, so that she could eventually win Rayne’s elusive heart.

“I am amazed,” Madeline said simply. “How can I ever thank you, Fanny?”

The courtesan smiled modestly. “You needn’t thank me. Arabella and Roslyn and Lily have supported me unerringly all these many years, despite the threat to their good name. It is only right that I repay their loyalty by performing a favor for one of their friends.”

“Even so, I am overwhelmingly grateful for all you have done.”

“We are not finished yet,” Fanny said with a smile. “We still have much more to discuss if you are to become comfortable playing the temptress. If necessary, I can come to Chiswick and meet you at Danvers Hall. You will want to keep your plans secret from your husband. But although this is just the first step in your campaign to win his affections, I would say you are well on your way to becoming the object of Haviland’s dreams.”

“So would I,” Madeline murmured, marveling at her new self. The reflection staring back at her in the mirror looked like the very kind of woman who could capture and hold a man like Rayne. And she had every intention
of putting her newly learned arts of allurement to the test.

Rayne seemed to admire boldness, so she would give him boldness. And if she had her way, she would turn their union into a love match by becoming a seductress in their marriage bed.