Sweet Revenge To The Duke (Book 1)

Chapter Three

"I'm delighted you know how to use a needle." Miss Elizabeth Thompson, Athene's guardian, stood in the center of their shared chamber, swathed in starched white linen.

"Stay still," Athene muttered through her pins in her mouth. She was, of course, a skilled seamstress. Because none of her guardians had been affluent, she was skilled at repurposing old clothes. It wasn't a talent anyone wanted to brag about. "It's almost done."

"Of course, if the noble Duke of Burlington had any respect for his visitors, he would have notified us about the masquerade ball and not asked us to build our own costumes out of whatever we had."

Athene carefully placed the remaining pins into place before lifting the linen tube over Elizabeth's head. "We were prepared for a large amount of quirkiness before we arrived. I believe the Duke enjoys putting people to the test." She let out a sigh. "The very wealthy take pleasure wherever they please, and we must all, I fear, dance to their tune."

"These are not the words of a woman looking for a wealthy spouse. My dear, you must modify your mindset. You'll be mistaken for a revolutionary by everyone."

Elizabeth sat on a footstool near the fire, her shoulders draped in a silk shawl. Athene walked up to the window and began threading her needle. "I guess you're correct. I should consider wealth and power to be positive attributes. While I knit your tunic, I'll force myself to grow used to the concept."

"I'm not sure how well the gentlemen will do with this last-minute costume making." Elizabeth snatched up a brush and ran it through her hair.

"I don't believe a toga requires any sewing if they chose to wear one." His Grace merely asked that we make classical costumes, but he didn't clarify which culture he was referring to. I'm guessing the men will have their valets make their outfits."

She took a deep breath and gently exhaled. She'd spent so much time getting Elizabeth's clothing just right that she'd run out of time to make her own, and she might have to settle for a toga. That would involve revealing her less-than-perfect shift.

Elizabeth remarked, "I intend to remove my corset." "My Grecian chiton must therefore fit perfectly."

Athene was adamant about not being surprised. Elizabeth's daring behavior was nothing new to her. After nearly six months of attempting, she realized that all reform efforts were futile.

"It's entirely up to you if you want your breasts to be unsupported." She snipped a strand of thread and got to work on her sewing, smirking internally at Elizabeth's fury.

"I'll have you know that my breasts don't require any support." They're unbeatable, and no gentleman can deny that their natural shape is beautiful."

"No respectable gentleman should be watching so intently."

"I'm not looking for a 'good' gentleman." I'm looking for a mistress that is exceptionally gorgeous and accomplished. Or two, for that matter, because you could be helped as well."

Athene came dangerously close to pricking her finger. "You know how much I despise males."

"You really don't." You can't say that unless you've really tried one. The benefit of being a mistress is that the man isn't present all of the time. You have more freedom than his wife, who is responsible for raising children and running residences." Elizabeth shuddered.

Would being saddled with children be so awful? With children twirling around their skirts, mistresses were not expected to settle down to domestic bliss. That was one of the many, more obvious reasons why Athene had no desire to be anyone's mistress.

Elizabeth shivered once again, her teeth clattering in unison. "Will you light the fire for me, my sweet—I'm half-frozen and don't want soot beneath my nails."

The statement that if she had soot on her fingers, the Grecian tunic would be damaged was rebuffed by Athene. She complied resignedly, then cleansed her hands in the chilly waters of the basin before returning to her sewing.

Elizabeth stretched and exhaled after a series of noisy yawns. "It's exhausting to have to wait like this." I'll be too tired to eat by the time dinner is served."

"I'm assuming there will be dinner." Our host may anticipate us dancing on an empty stomach."

"Oh, no—I'm sure a dinner suitable for a Roman emperor will be served." You don't have a so-called classical orgy unless there's food. "Everyone must overindulge oneself."

"So, if we become too full, will we be dancing like maenads and using a vomitorium?"

Her guardian's brows furrowed. "How did you come up with such phrases?" What a remarkable individual you are."

"I'm a self-taught artist. My guardians' library, to be precise. You're the first person to take away my scholastic books."

"My love, I learned from the School of Life. It is significantly more engaging than any dull book. And they're more inclined to assist you in finding a husband. I mean, a wealthy one. But this week, I'll teach you everything I know."

"Assuming you have the time and aren't fighting off potential protectors or lovers."

"You're so drier than a desert." Men, you know, don't find it particularly appealing."

Athene didn't want to be attractive to males, so she said, "Oh, God." But, if not through marriage, how could she obtain financial security and the satisfaction of having a true family? It would be great if she could find a man who was rarely at home to disturb her, preferably an older man, possibly a widower with children...which would eliminate the need for coitus.

She wouldn't meet her dream husband here, based on her luck. Elizabeth had promised her that there would be plenty of suitable bachelors at the party, but it was up to her to figure out whether any of them were widowers. Unfortunately, her first encounter with them would be undercover, at tonight's masquerade event.

It wasn't her first taste, to be sure. If she only knew who had kissed her the night before and why. Perhaps if she waited long enough, the man would make a second move. She had to hope that her trust fund, which was currently in Elizabeth's possession, would survive long enough for her evasive courtier to make up his mind.

She resumed her needlework, only to be interrupted by Elizabeth, who complained, "Where is that horrible Hester with my ivy leaves?" There won't be enough time to do my hair correctly if she doesn't return soon."

Elizabeth was certain she needed a wreath for the masquerade ball, so Hester, their sluggish, basic servant—they couldn't afford anything better—had been despatched into Hedenham's gardens in search of ivy with which to build one.

If Athene hadn't been so preoccupied with stitching, she would have accompanied their maid to make sure she returned with something that looked vaguely like ivy.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock at the door. When the door opened, she had pricked her finger and was sucking it ruefully. It wasn't Hester, though, who was carrying armfuls of evergreens. One of the duke's footmen had done it.

"Please accept my apologies for the interruption. Miss Edwards, I have a package for you."

Athene rushed to her feet and grabbed the tiny, cloth-wrapped item, forgetting about her finger. What an oddity. It had a label addressed to her, as the footman had pointed out. She thanked him and shut the door, then dashed across the room to the window, where she could see the mysterious package better. Elizabeth quickly removed it as she pressed in close to see what had arrived.

"Open it as soon as possible." It's got to be something to do with our host. What could it possibly be? It's little enough to be considered jewelry. I'm curious as to why he didn't direct it to me, your chaperone and protector. ”

Athene yanked on the rope, and two silver and gold brooches fell into her palm as she unraveled the white lawn covering. She'd seen drawings of such devices in antiquarian books, formed like a harp from the side but cruciform in front. Ancient Romans used brooches like these to keep their garments in place.

A closer look revealed that the objects in her palm were in far too nice of shape to be genuine. They were replicas made by a modern jeweler, and they were heavy enough to be actual gold and silver.

"How wonderful," Elizabeth exclaimed as she took the silver one in her hands. "Wouldn't this look great on me, with my silver-blonde hair?" The gold would complement your fire tresses nicely. The duke, I must say, is both gracious and perceptive. I'm curious whether he's looking for a mistress. Lady Bingham intimated as much when she got this invitation for us."

The brooches would come in handy a lot. It would save hours of sewing time to be able to pin something to one shoulder. With simply the pin and a curtain sash knotted around the waist, one might make a Greek or Roman costume.

Athene spun the paper label in her hands, then grumbled as she noticed the ink was still wet, a monument to the sender's haste. On the other side of the label, there was also ink. "There's something written on the back," she explained to Elizabeth, who had stepped away from the mirror to admire herself.

"'Compliments of Burlington,' it'll say. I assume that's the case."

"No," she said, dropping the label, a shiver running up her spine. What did he intend when he made this wonderful gesture?

"We need to get these back to you straight away."

“What? No, don't be a knucklehead. These are not loans, but rather gifts. Because it's cold, I'm thinking of adding an off-the-shoulder cloak to my ensemble." Elizabeth already had a piece of linen thrown across her and was pinning it in various ways.

"They're not from the Duke," Athene said as she placed her brooch on the mantelpiece, her fingers trembling.

"Then from whom?" Elizabeth was taken aback and looked at her.

"From the man I'd sworn to despise for the rest of my life. Rushbourne, Viscount. He ought to be punished. Is he trying to belittle me? Make fun of my plight? ”

"Calm down, Athene." It's only a trifle. He isn't singling you out because the brooches are for both of us. We'll wear them for the ball and then return them if they're actually uncomfortable for you."

"I'm not going to put on his present." They're yours. Oh, how I wish I could undo the clasp and poke him with the pin."

The gold brooch was seized by Elizabeth. "You're not going to do something like that." I know you don't like him since he teased you when you were a kid, but he'll have moved on. Perhaps he's now attempting to atone."

"No, it'll be one of his ruses." He used to get a kick out of his practical pranks. The pins will be engineered to come undone halfway through the ball, revealing our underwear. Or he'll use them to identify us so he can mock us or make us look silly." She was on the verge of crying.

Elizabeth pressed her hand against her arm. "Pay attention to yourself, kid. You're making unreasonable decisions. They're just baubles chosen by a sensitive man with impeccable taste and a big heart."

Athene was on the verge of passing out. "You have no idea how little you know about him." I'll claim a headache and skip the ball entirely. How can I be able to avoid him when everyone will be masked and dressed alike? ”

"You will come, and it will come to an end." That's the first time I've ever heard such crap. Now you need a spouse, and I need a protector, and we'll both end up in the gutter if we don't find them soon. Athene, you must attend the ball, or I will return your trust funds to the lawyers and throw you out on the street personally."

Elizabeth would badger her cruelly if she didn't go, but she wasn't likely to follow through on her threat of throwing her into the street.

It was now time for Athene to confront her arch-foe. Again.

But the insufferable Viscount Rushbourne was in for a rude awakening if he expected thanks from her.