The Duke and the Dressmaker (The St. James Series) (7 page)

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Sara climbed into the carriage with the
duke’s help. He sat across from her. Her hands trembled as she thought about the mistake she may have just made. Stinky could be out there watching right now. What if he came back tonight?

A low, velvety voice
cut into her thoughts. “I will not let him hurt you again.”

“How can you say such a thing? I do not even know who he is
. Why, he could be out there right now watching me.” Sara searched his blue eyes. They were as calm as could be. The ice was gone, replaced by a tenderness she had never seen before.

Her heart skipped a beat. Even her husband had never looked at her like that. It actually appeared as if he cared for her. But how could that be? He must feel sorry for her. That was it.
She chewed her lip, confused by her present circumstances.

“I will find out who he is. I have my ways. I will protect you.”
He spoke with certainty.

How she wished she could believe him.
His blue eyes gazed at her with an intensity she had never seen. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, warmth pooled between her thighs. She stared at him, wanting to cling to him. Envisioning her head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Kissing had never been an especially pleasant event with her husband. His mouth had always covered her
s roughly, leaving saliva over half her face. Somehow, she didn’t expect it would feel the same with this man. He probably would not shove his tongue into her mouth so deep as to gag her. Sara shuddered.

Philip reached over and held her gloved hand.
She hoped he interpreted her shudder to be fear of her attacker. He stroked her wrist at her pulse point. “You don’t believe me.”

Sara allowed the simple caress, but h
er head bowed, her gaze lowering to hide what her eyes might reveal. She let herself be entranced by his touch, permitting herself a moment’s pleasure before saying. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I cannot take your money. I will never be able to repay you. I cannot expect you to pay my husband’s debts. He has done enough to you.”

The carriage arrived at her shop. The
duke helped her down and unlocked her front door for her.

“Your Grace, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance.”
She offered her best smile.

Sara turned to enter her shop, expectin
g him to just leave, but he gently pushed his way past her through the open door.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to look around first.”

Sara stood frozen in her front room, thankful that he was willing to do this for her. She heard him opening doors, walking upstairs to her rooms. His footsteps descended the stairway followed by the sound of water being thrown out the back door. Oh, her tub. She had forgotten it.

He
strode back into the front room.

“The lock on your back door was picked. That is how he got in. I will send a locksmith over to change your locks. You need something stronger. I don’t think anyone has been here in your absence. Nothing
else seems to be disturbed.”

She peered up at him nervously. “Thank you, but I cannot take up any more of your time.”

Philip stepped closer to her, her eyes meeting his. “You live here instead of in a boardinghouse? May I ask why? Could this not be part of your problem?”

Sara dropped her
gaze. “I have my reasons, Your Grace. I would appreciate it if you could recommend a good locksmith. I certainly can handle it myself. I would be happy to pay him for his work.” Her lower lip trembled slightly.

Philip
grazed her cheek with the back of his hand. “He struck you here, didn’t he?”

Sara shivered at his warm touch. “No.”

“Your skin is red an
d raw.”

His touch was so
gentle. Duncan had never touched her so tenderly. Philip stood close enough for her to catch his scent. She inhaled before speaking again, as if she could draw some of his strength just from his essence.

Turning her face
away in embarrassment, she whispered. “He licked my cheek. I had to scrub it to feel clean again. Perhaps I was a bit excessive.”

“I am so sorry I could not protect you from him
.” He ran his thumb across her lip and leaned down to brush his lips across hers. It lasted only seconds.

“Please, Your Grace, I don’t need your pity.” Sara didn’t know what else to say.
She certainly was not pretty, so it had to be that he felt sorry for her.

“Is t
hat what you think this is? I assure you it is not.” He cupped her face and kissed her more deeply. His tongue mated with hers briefly. Sara’s knees buckled. He caught her and pulled her in closer to him. His hard member pressed against her belly, and her eyes flew open as she pulled back.

He smiled a mischievous grin. “As I said, this is not
about pity. I will return to check on you, Lady Downey. And now that I have tasted you, I hope I may call you Sara and you will call me Philip. Promise that you will contact me if you have any more problems?” He waited for her answer.

Sara didn’t know what els
e to do, so she nodded her head, swallowing hard.

The
duke turned and left.

***

Sara went to work immediately on Emma’s pink gown. She worked all day and was satisfied with her progress. The locksmith came in the afternoon and changed both locks. She had to admit, she felt safer. She attempted to pay the man, but he declined adamantly.

There were no visitors that day. She was able to not only finish Emma’s gown, but start on one for Mary. She chose a rich peach color for her. The shade would be a lovely compliment to her complexion.

She dozed fitfully that night, finally getting up to work on some sketches. Every sound in the area made her jump. Stinky had left her paralyzed with fear, but she refused to give in. If she did, he would win. While she could not sleep as she liked, at least she was able to continue her work.

Mid-morning, while Sara sewed
at her desk, thoughts of her mother entered her mind. She opened her drawer and retrieved her mother’s beaded reticule. Running her fingers over the beads, she thought of the perfect wedding gown that would match the bag.

Of course, she had hoped to carry it the day of her own wedding.
Duncan, her husband-to-be, had refused to take part in a large wedding. She had wanted to marry in a beautiful church, wear a gown of her own design, and carry her mother’s reticule. He had staunchly declined, declaring such events to be wasteful and boring. He convinced Sara and her father they needed the money in order to secure their financial success.

Now Sara realized he was only interested in his own financial success. He must have gambled that money away. No matter though, she was glad her design had not been wasted on such an evil man.

She had not been able to find the exact beads she wanted. The perfect beads had eluded her. Searching for months, she was sure she could find the matching shade of ivory beads. Without them, she could not make the perfect dress.

The tinkle of her door interrupted her thoughts. She
crossed into her front room. A tall blonde waited with a big smile on her face.

“Sara? Sara Downey, is it really you? I have been looking for you for months. No one had any idea where you had gone after the ridiculous stunt your husband pulled.”

Phoebe Davis, wife of the Earl of Ardleigh, stood there with her arms wide open. Sara ran into them and hugged her.

“Oh, it is so good to see you, Phoebe.” Sara
smiled warmly as she returned Phoebe’s embrace.

“Sara, why didn’t you visit me? I have been worried sick over you. I asked every
one about you. It wasn’t until my husband came home last week that I discovered where you were. He told me you had started your own business.”

Sara peered at Phoebe sheepishly. “Unfortunately, few of my former friends
were interested in continuing a relationship. Once my husband ran away, my fall from society happened quickly. When I opened this shop, things only got worse. I did not think you would be interested in continuing our friendship.”

“Oh, posh, Sara Downey.
You know I don’t care what the
ton
says. I have my own mind, you know. All that matters to me is what my dear Ardleigh thinks, and he encouraged me to visit you today. In fact, I may have you take my measurements. I remember how skilled your sketches can be. What do you think would look nice on me?” She raised her eyebrows in anticipation.

Sara escorted her to her measuring station and happily finished the task.
They chattered on in the same fashion as school girls. Phoebe noticed the sketchbook where Sara had left it.

“Oh, Sara, this gown is divine. Have you made it for anyone yet?
” Phoebe asked as she ran her finger down the page.

Sara shook her head. “If you like, I can make it for you, Phoebe. We can choose fabric today if you wish.”

“I would love to see what you have. But wait. Isn’t that your mother’s reticule? You have kept it all this time?” Phoebe picked up the bag and ran her fingers carefully across the satin. “It is still beautiful after all these years, isn’t it?”

Sara nodded. “Yes, it is. But I have been unable to match the shade of the beads.”

“The other day, Ardleigh brought me to an accessories shop on the other side of town. It is a ways off, but she had some lovely beads. Would you care to attend with me some time? We could certainly use my carriage. Perhaps on Thursday. Would you be able to get away? Would you like to go?”

“Oh, I would love that, Phoebe.” Sara clutched her hands to her chest.

“Gadzooks, Sara! What happened to your hand?” Phoebe exclaimed.

“Oh, ‘tis a long story.
Maybe better for another day.” Sara turned to search for fabric in the hopes of distracting Phoebe.

“We
ll, you better be careful, Sara. You need a good man to look after you, not a halfwit like your husband. I am sorry, Sara, but I never liked that man. Hmm….I have something new to think about. You need someone. I love playing matchmaker.” She bounced her index finger on her lips as she thought.

“Phoebe, I don’t need anyone. I am fine alone, please.”

“Doesn’t look to me like you are fine alone. You don’t look well either. Do you feel all right? You are pale, circles under your eyes. Sara, why don’t you come and stay with me for awhile?” Phoebe pleaded. “Business will wait for you. You just opened. You can’t have that many people waiting for you.”

“On the contrary, I have too much work to do. I am tired, but once I get adjusted to my new life, I will be fine. I w
ould be happy to go shopping with you one morning, Phoebe, but that is the only free time I have. I have gowns I must get ready for your ball next weekend.”

“Oh,
of course. You will come, Sara? Please?” Phoebe grabbed Sara’s other hand. “You know I consider you one of my closest friends. Please say you will come. Had I known you were here, you know I would have sent an invitation.”

“I don’t think so. I have too much work to do. Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline. Besides, I have nothing to wear either. I am too busy sewing for others.”
Sara glanced down at her own gown self-consciously. She wore her old ones mostly. At this point, everything was about putting money aside for Stinky. She must not forget about him.

“All right, if you insist. But I will be back to pick you up Thursday morning. I won’t take no for an answer,
Lady Downey!” Phoebe gave Sara another quick hug and left with a swish of her skirts.

Sara sighed. How lucky Phoebe was. Her husband was the sweetest man. Their love for each other was clear in everything they did. Unlike many couples, they actually enjoyed each other’s company. How she wished her marriage had been like that.

No, she didn’t. She could never have loved Duncan. His kisses were awful, sex was terrible, and he lied. Then the duke popped into her mind. She put her elbow on the table and set her chin in her hand. She had to admit, kissing Philip St. James was unlike kissing any other man. She was disappointed when he had turned to leave. Was it possible to enjoy the physical part of marriage? Phoebe and her husband were always touching and talking sweetly to each other.

In fact, if she remembered correctly, hadn’t Phoebe been pregnant the last time she saw her? It must have been at least eight months ago when she had seen her with her little round belly. Phoebe had been ecstatic about the prospect of their first
child. Sara had never even held a baby. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t ended up pregnant by Duncan. What in the world would she do with a baby now?

Duncan had never touched her unless they were having sex.
She didn’t think she would be happy if she was married to the Duke of Brentwood and he never touched her. Memories of his tender caress at breakfast warmed her heart. Had the duke really touched her like that? Was it possible he was interested in her? Warmth pooled between her thighs when she thought of his kiss.

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