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“Father, too,” Hannah pointed out.

“It is your wedding day,” Charlotte said as she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and looked at her in the mirror. Eyes glistening with unshed tears, she could not have looked more proud. “And if this is the dress you wish to wear…” She hesitated for a moment, looking a little concerned. “Well, there is little they can do.”

“It is,” Hannah affirmed with a firm nod and a smirk. “I just hope His Grace likes it.”

Beatrice snorted. “Little chance that he will not.”

The three sisters had sequestered themselves in an antechamber in the church as they waited for the ceremony to start. A typical procedure, giving the bride a final chance to check her dress and makeup so that all was as it should be. And, most importantly, a final chance to swallow down any last-minute nerves.

Those nerves were starting to rise within Hannah. This plan of hers had only been thought up a few days ago—a real risk, she thought, but a necessary one. The Duke wished to avoid her? Hewished to just befriends?Somehow, she doubted the strength of his resolve very much.

It was their conversation in the garden that had made her understand better what she needed to do. And also how she felt about the Duke. Their near kiss… the tension that had lingered between them… that desire that radiated from him as he held her and very nearly pressed his lips to her own…

He thought he had the self-control necessary to never touch her? Ha! They would see about that.

“Perhaps it would not be the worst idea to cover yourself a little…” Charlotte bit her lip as she glanced at Hannah’s plunging neckline. “A shawl of some kind? Just to cover?—”

“Oh, do not listen to her,” Beatrice scoffed, swatting her sister away. “I think it looks alluring.”

Charlotte clicked her tongue. “Is alluring what one wishes for on their wedding day?”

“Do not forget, the wedding day is followed by the wedding night,” Beatrice grinned. “So, it cannot hurt.”

“We are in a church!” Charlotte hissed.

“They are not going to fornicate on the floor,” Beatrice sighed. “This is simply a taste for the Duke. Right, Sister?” She winked atHannah. “After how he has been behaving these last few weeks, my thinking is that he will need it.”

“I still think it would not kill you to cover yourself a little,” Charlotte muttered.

The dress in question was tactical… and scandalous, to say the least. Sleeveless. Backless. Strapless. It was held up by what seemed a pure force of will alone, the neckline sitting just above Hannah’s breasts, which were pushed up by the very tight waistline—a tightness that ran down her backside, past her thighs, making the dress appear to strangle her entire body.

Hannah had always been curvy, and today she was putting those curves to good use. She still did not know how she felt about the Duke. Did she like him as a man? Did she enjoy his company as a friend? What she did know for a fact was that she found him incredibly attractive, and she suspected he felt the same about her.

So, this dress was chosen with a purpose. Today, when she and the Duke were pronounced husband and wife, he would kiss her—something he swore he would not do. Oh sure, he did not have to do it. But Hannah wondered how he would manage that once he saw her in this dress.

A devilish plan… and she could not help but grin as she looked at herself in the mirror one last time. Today was the first day of the rest of her life, so best to get it off to a good start.

A knock at the door had her and her three sisters turning around.

“It’s time, dear.” Her mother poked her head around the door, pursing her lips when she saw the dress. “Are you…” She exhaled as if to calm herself. “Ready?”

“As ready as I will ever be.”

“We will see you out there.” Charlotte kissed Hannah on the cheek. “Good luck.”

“Not that you need it,” Beatrice offered with a wink as she hurried to join her sister.

“Father…” Hannah trailed off.

“Waiting for you,” her mother said, again looking at the dress. “Hannah, dear, I know that you had your heart set on?—”

“It is done, Mother,” Hannah cut her off. “Please remember how easy I have made these past two weeks for you. This is what I want.”

Lady Ramsbury sighed and nodded in understanding. “Well, come on then. Let us get you married.”

A smile next as she held out her hand for Hannah to take, pride flickering in her eyes because at the end of the day, her daughterwas getting married to a duke. What more could a mother wish for?

Lord Ramsbury was waiting for Hannah just beyond the door. Like her mother, he gave her dress a disapproving look, only he chose to say nothing. Forcing a smile, he offered her his arm, and Hannah, relieved that he had chosen to drop the matter, took it.