The Duke and the Dressmaker (The St. James Series) (22 page)

***

Sara jerked up in bed as soon as she realized the sun streamed through her windows. She groaned as pain burst through her from the quick movement. Moving her legs to the side of the bed, she supported her broken fingers and clenched her teeth, determined to stand. Fighting the queasiness in her belly, she washed up quickly and smoothed her hair.

Phoebe’s maid entered
as she searched for something to wear.

“M
y lady! Oh my. No. Lady Ardleigh said you must not get out of bed. Please! Let me help you back into bed.” She wrung her hands, bustling behind Sara.

Sara shook her head
. “I am sorry, but there is one thing I must do. Please help me get dressed. I must go to my shop.”

Chapter Thirty-
One

Sara stood back as Frederick pushed on her shop door to open it. “I don’t know, Lady Downey. I still think Lady Ardleigh will be furious with me for taking you out. I don’t know why they had to go to the duke’s place so early this morning. We could have waited for them to return.”

“Frederick, I promise not to say a word to the
Ardleighs. But now that Stinky has been apprehended and is no longer a threat to me, I must find a few possessions.”

She
tiptoed through the door and stopped, staring at the havoc Miranda Montrose had created. She couldn’t stop herself from running her fingers through the fabric of each ruined gown. Why? What possessed someone so crazed? She truly had acted as if driven by an unknown force, something other than losing the duke. Jealousy she supposed forced people to do terrible things, but to threaten someone with a knife? Tear her gowns to shreds? Pity was the only emotion she could summon for Miranda Montrose.

Until
she had cleared the cobwebs from her mind this morning, she hadn’t been able to focus. Bits and pieces of Stinky’s rantings from the previous night popped into her thoughts as the time passed. And when she recalled his comment about starting a fire in her shop, she knew she had no choice but to return as soon as possible to retrieve her mother’s bag. She had hoped to find Ardleigh or Phoebe to go along with her, but she knew time was of the essence. No one else comprehended the value of the bag. It was the only memento she had from her mother. She absolutely had to find it, and Philip or Ardleigh may not have consented to allowing her back in her shop. Since Stinky had been apprehended by the Horse Patrol, there was no risk to her well-being, and she decided a few minutes in and out were all she needed to complete her task. Then she would be able to relax and obtain the rest she craved.

She made her way up the narrow stair
case slowly so as not to jar her arm. She filled a small bag of her personal things along with some night clothes and packed her two favorite wool day dresses and two summer dresses as well. As she made her way down the stairs, she called for Frederick to help her.

Frederick appeared quickly, red-faced. “Please hurry,
my lady. I will not relax until I return you to the carriage.”

“I am almost done. Here,
please take this bag out and I will give you one other sack of dresses as well.” Frederick threw the bag into the carriage and returned quickly. Sara gazed at her dresses. She reached for a pale blue silk gown and a light peach satin trimmed with ribbons and lace around the neckline. “Here, Frederick, if you could arrange these two nicely in the carriage, I will grab my mother’s bag and be right behind you. Forget the sack, perhaps we can take them without wrinkling them too much.”

She
sighed as she found her mother’s bag and saw that it was in good condition. She hugged it close to her chest and willed herself not to cry over it. A noise startled her from behind and she turned. Sharp pain erupted in her head before she collapsed into a world of darkness.

***

Sara opened her eyes and stared at the garbage and grime directly in front of her nose. Peering at her surroundings, she realized she was behind her shop with a cloth stuffed in her mouth. Her sense of smell told her Stinky was not far. The muttering of his voice reached her ears just as she realized he was busy tying her legs together. Again? How could this be happening to her again? She attempted to yell, but found a knife at her throat in an instant.

“Close your mouth, missy, or I’ll gut you right here and leave you. You are proving to be almost too much trouble for me. Almost isn’t enough to stop
ol’ Harry, though. No sirree. My boss promised me more money once he got a look at ya. Too bad I haven’t the time to sample you meself first.” He tugged on the rope and moved her closer to a wagon.

Her head pounded worse than ever, if that was possible. Thinking she heard a voice, she held her breath, hoping help was near. She noticed her
back door still slightly ajar, so she stilled to see who was inside. Was that Frederick? Of course, he would search for her, wouldn’t he?

She thought she
heard Mary St. James conversing with Frederick.

“Please tell me your purpose here, young man.”
It had to be the duchess.

Frederick
answered, “Oh, Your Grace, Lady Downey wanted to retrieve her mother’s bag. She gathered up some things and I settled them in the carriage. She will be right out shortly. I promise to take her straight home.”

Sara sighed as she heard t
he dowager step inside the shop. She would be saved again.

“Sara? Where are you?”

Sara could hear Mary moving toward her. She tried to yell again, but the gag was too tight. Stinky returned and threatened her with the knife again before hoisting her up over his shoulder and tossing her in the back of a wagon.

Stinky stuck his putrid breath in her face and whispered,
“There’ll be no more getting away from me. Perhaps I’ll even have ya before I’m done. Got your nose up in the air and think you’re better than me? Well, we’ll see.” Covering her with a coarse blanket, he climbed up in the box and snapped the reins. Sara kicked but to no avail. The jarring motion inflamed her headache, so she closed her eyes in frustration, thinking of Philip.

***

The dowager rushed into the dayroom where Philip and the Ardleighs planned their attack against Stinky.

She
marched into the middle of their conversation, dropped Sara’s mother’s bag onto the tabletop and said, “When will you ever learn to listen to me, Philip? This is all that is left of Sara.”

Phoebe screamed.

***

Sara awoke
coughing, yet pleased to see her gag had been removed. The softness under her told her she was in a bed and not a wagon, but then she realized both feet and her right arm were bound to the bedposts. She heard two voices at the far side of the room.

“What the hell made you bring her here? I don’t want her.”
A grating female voice tore into her consciousness, reminding her to stay still.

“Your boss man said he would pay me good money for her. And I want my money. She kicks and fights like a cat, that one. She
’s a mean one.” Sara recognized Stinky’s voice.

“We don’t want her anymore. Get her out. She
’s been seen with the Duke of Brentwood. She’ll bring trouble down on us, she will. You have to get rid of her.”

“Get rid of her? Hellfire
, I will! I want my money. She is worth a lot. She’s a beauty, she is. You’re just gonna have to break her. Once your boss breaks her, she’ll make you a lot of money. She’s got nice titties, too, even through her clothes. I grabbed a quick feel on the way over.”

She
heard a resounding slap.

“
What was that for?” Stinky rubbed his cheek.

“I told you not to touch the merchandise. You know how the man is. He doesn’t want
no used goods. Keep your hands off her.”

Her
eyes teared as she listened. She knew she had to keep control and not let them know she was awake. What were they talking about anyway? Sell her for what?

The woman spoke again with a vicious tone
as she paced in front of the bed. “The duke will come after her, he will. She is a beauty, and that is exactly why he will come looking for her. You have to get her out of here before it’s too late, Stubby.”

Stubby?
His name was Stubby? Probably for his teeth, Sara thought. She gazed around the room as much as possible without moving her head and found gaudy red wallpaper along with two paintings of nude figures in obscene positions. She was on a large four-poster bed with a perfumed-smelling coverlet and a mirror above the bed.

Reality slowly made its way through the fog in her brain.
She couldn’t be where she thought she was, could she? She stole a quick peek at the woman talking to Stinky. Neither glanced her way, thankfully. She was a dark haired woman with a voluptuous bosom. Her breasts threatened to spill out her clothing, her hair sat high on her head, and she carried a whip. A whip?

This cannot be. Please, God, don’t let this be what I
’m thinking.
Her pulse sped up with just the thought. She was in a house of prostitutes. It had to be. Stinky wanted to sell her to the owner so she could whore for him. She would spend all her time with different men committing sexual acts she couldn’t bear to think about. She forced her eyes closed and pictured Philip. He smiled at her, telling her how much he loved her, how he would protect her. He would save her, wouldn’t he?

The same word reverberated in her brain.
Prostitute? They were going to force her to prostitute? How was that possible?

Her head throbbed horribly, but she didn’t dare sleep again.
She peered over at her captors. The woman must be the madam of the place. What did she know about houses of prostitutes anyway? She had to get away. Philip would come for her, but what if he wasn’t in time? What if he couldn’t find her?

“And what are we going to do with a strumpet with a broken arm, Stubby?
It would tend to get in the way of certain positions.”

“
It ain’t broken, just her fingers. Her mouth still works, don’t it? I won’t touch her, but I can show you, if you want. I’ll make her earn her keep. She owes me for all the trouble she’s caused me, that one.”

“If you take that smelly thing out of your pants in front of me, I will cut it off.” The whip snapped in the air. “You ought to take a bath on occasion. Your smell is disgusting.”

Stinky ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin before spitting into the spittoon in the corner. “Bring me to the boss. I want my money, and I’m not waiting around for it. I brought him a prime piece of flesh, and I expect to be paid. I want to see him now. She won’t be passed out forever.”

“Fine, I’
ll take you. Just so you will believe me and get her out of here.” They disappeared out the door and slammed it shut with a clatter.

With the room empty,
she tugged on her bindings, but to no avail. Her captors were quite talented at tying knots. Glancing at herself in the mirror above, she was horrified when she noticed the large bump on the side of her head with crusted blood matted in her hair. Her hair was full of tangles and dirt flecks peppered her cheek. She wanted to cry but was afraid to make a sound.

She turned her head to a soft sound
. She thought maybe it was the door opening again. Closing her eyes, she hoped they hadn’t noticed she was awake. She had to do something. There must be a way out of here. She needed to stay alert.

“Lady, hey lady, here
.” A gentle touch grabbed her shoulder as she opened her eyes. She stared into the eyes of a young girl with fair hair and tiny freckles dancing across her nose, a girl of an age to be at her come-out parties.

“Drink this
. Who knows how long they will keep you tied up.” She offered her a bit of tea. Just lifting her head hurt Sara.

“Please help me
. Untie me. I have to get away,” she begged the young girl. She had to get her to listen to her. “I don’t belong here. I was kidnapped. I don’t even know where I am.”

“
Shhhh! Not too loud. I don’t know when they’ll be back. You are in the House of Candie’s Sweet Treats. I think you can guess what I am and what kind of treats we are. No, you didn’t belong here, but now you do. Once Stubby brings you here, there is no way out.”

“But there has to be. Please help me. Send for the Duke of
Brentwood. I know him; he will get me out. I will pay you in silver if you help me or get a message to the duke. Or the Earl of Ardleigh; he will rescue me. Please! Send a message for me. I cannot stay here,” she pleaded. The girl had to believe her.

“He hurt you
pretty bad. What’s your name?” the young girl asked.

“Sara
, Lady Sara Downey. I promise to pay you well if you help me.”

“I can’t release you
; they will kill me if I help you. They have done it before. Well, actually, they just broke Anna’s leg, and Becky was beat so she couldn’t walk. And Mary, they knocked all her teeth out. I will not help you.”

Sara’s mind raced in a thousand directions. Her bindings constricted as she talked. Only now did the reality of her helplessness finally find its way home.
“Please help me. I can’t believe this is happening to me. What will they have me do? Become a prostitute? I cannot! That is an impossible thought. Oh my word, how could this happen?” Panic threatened to drag the content of Sara’s stomach out and propel it in numerous directions.

“That’s where a lot of
dollymops come from. Candie’s boss has a couple of guys that kidnap for him. You’re stuck here. No one will help you now. When my pa found out I was here, he refused to speak to me anymore. I had been here for a month when I saw him on the street. I ran to him, I couldn’t help myself. Even though the goon I was with came after me, I still had to see my pa. He turned away, I think because of what I was wearing. I shamed him. I know that. But it wasn’t my fault, I was kidnapped, too. They said my pa bet on the horses and he lost. I was his payment. How can they do it? I don’t know, but they do.” The fair haired strumpet’s head dropped forward and she stared at her hands.