“It suggests my scalp is itchy,” Cathy grumbled, even as Mrs. Collins’ nimble fingers recreated the hairstyle that Lady Marlow wanted on her granddaughter.
“It suggests that he distracts you,” Lady Marlow insisted. “Stop watching the Duke as if you are prepared to correct his grammar. You must smile at him, but not too much like Madeline would. It should be slow and knowing, as if the two of you have a secret between yourselves. Use that long, elegant neck of yours. Tilt it to show the expanse of your throat.”
At the moment, Mrs. Collins was already dabbing a damp cloth against Cathy’s face. She inhaled the scents of elderflower and rosewater.
“Then, we must do something about your face,” the baroness continued.
“What is wrong with my face?” Cathy recalled Lord Farstone’s words about her face, and she scowled at her reflection.
“You are a pretty girl, Cathy, but you are often pale. You spend too much time inside your study. It is making you look sick or tired. Mrs. Collins will give you a touch of rouge. Remember how to apply it. I want your dear husband to see you always on the verge of a blush. We may also—”
“The rouge is enough, I think,” Cathy interrupted.
“All right, then. We can forego the kohl and just put a little tinge on your lips, too.”
“Yes, but the Duke will notice. He will take one look at me and know what is happening. I do not think he is a fool.”
“But that is the point, Cathy!” the baroness cried, as she threw her hands up in surrender. “Hemustnotice you. He will see that his wife has finally decided to end whatever enmity it was between you and him.”
“Enmity sounds too serious for this, Grandmama.”
“Well, what would you call this? Stubbornness? We need the Duke to see that you are making an effort to catch his attention. It will do you good if he thinks you are doing it all for him, which, let me remind you, you are.”
“It looks like I am doing it for you,” Cathy argued, even though she could feel something change. She could not help but wonder what he would think about her new appearance.
Mrs. Collins provided her with a hand mirror to see the changes. Her hair felt strangely lighter, bouncier. Her grandmother’s maid did a wonderful job of making the strands look shinier and lighter. The curls seemed natural if the Duke did not know her well enough. Her skin looked dewy, and her lips were red and lush.
“I... I do not look like me,” she whispered in awe.
“You look like you, but with the knowledge of your feminine power and wiles,” the baroness explained. “But there is a lot of work to do.”
“There is?” Cathy asked, her eyes widening.
Mrs. Collins had let her see her reflection one more time, but the lady’s maid was off to take something out of the baroness’ trunk. Cathy told herself it was the novelty that had struck her with curiosity.
“Now, for your gowns,” the baroness said, as Mrs. Collins revealed gowns of silk, lace, and satin. Some were velvet, too. They were in colors that were meant to be noticed: emerald like the Duke’s eyes, blue like hers, gold like the jewels he wanted her to wear, and rose like the flower.
“I have gowns of my own,” she said.
“I do not know why I ever let you wear those drab things. They are shrouds and sacks in black and gray. We must also consider the cut, the neckline, and the way the fabrics should hug your silhouette.”
Cathy looked at some of the gowns her grandmother brought. The necklines were much too steep. They would not only reveal her collarbones but also the tops of her breasts.
“I cannot wear those,” she protested, her voice rising in panic. “It is... They are much too indecent!”
“Whatever you say, they are the latest in fashion. It will make your husband pause and wonder why he had not tried anything with you before. Mrs. Collins, help her dress in one of these. I do not want a collar in sight. Wear the gown as it is meant to be worn.”
“Grandmama!”
“You are a smart young woman. We do not have to talk in circles about this. It is not about vanity. It is about thinking of your future security. You have wasted your youth on being a symbol of protest. You can live your life more freely without having to worry about your father’s behavior. An annulment is a real threat, and many families and their daughters would readily intercept a man like him. If you are with child, you will be untouchable.”
“Am I to be a mere vessel, then?” she asked.
“No, my dear,” her grandmother corrected. “You will be a wife in the true sense of the word. He will bring wealth and power. You, on the other hand, can provide support, comfort, and family. He does not have much of a family, does he? You may not love him, but we cannot afford another scandal.”
Cathy gaped at her grandmother, who had just delivered a passionate speech. She then looked at the lavender silk in Mrs. Collins’ hands, and it seemed that her life flashed before her.
Her family. Their faces clouded her mind.