The Duke and the Dressmaker (The St. James Series) (9 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The day of the Ardleigh ball had finally arrived. Since she couldn’t afford to wear any of her own creations, she would not attend even though Phoebe would not be happy about her decision. Attending alone was unacceptable to her, though clearly, since she was a widow and Phoebe was a close friend, her attendance would be allowed by the
ton
. But after her most recent experience, her focus would be satisfying Stinky. She had enough broken bones. She would work twenty-four hours a day if needed to ensure her safety in the future.

Sara
counted her money again, sighing as she realized she was one third short of what she needed. One large order hung in the front room for a very wealthy client to pick up. If she received that money in time, she should be safe from Stinky. Only a week had passed but Sara could not depend on Stinky’s ability to count the days correctly. He had been early the last time.

S
he paced through her shop. Both doors were locked and bolted. She tidied up as she went. Finally, she forced herself to sit at her table and work on her sketchbook. She loved to design most of all.

After a few hours, she noticed the sun
had dropped. She grabbed a piece of stale bread from her cupboard upstairs. One apple sat alone on her table. She sighed and brought both back downstairs to eat while she sketched. Her mind needed to stay busy or her nerves would overtake her.

T
he rush of traffic had died down. Not many were on the street at this hour, especially since many of the realm would be in line at the Ardleigh estate or at the opera or the theater. Most of the shops on her street closed early. After lighting her oil lamp, Sara stood, listening to the eerie quiet surrounding her. Chills ran down her spine when she thought about how alone she was at that moment. No one would hear her scream; no one would be there to help, if needed. Perhaps she should return to the boardinghouse for safety reasons. Holding her head in her hands, she thought about the futility of such a move. She would never have enough money if she left at sundown.

Allowing herself a few minutes to daydream, she wondered how it would feel to stroll into the
ballroom on the arm of the Duke of Brentwood. He was by far the most handsome of any of the noblemen she had seen. Without really thinking, she reached up to touch her cheek where he had caressed her. Would he be so soft if he made love to her? She envisioned Philip smiling at her with his fine-looking mouth, no coldness in his gaze, maybe his hand at her waist, caressing her.

Then Miranda Montrose popped into her mind, causing a shudder to course through her at the thought of how happy Miranda would be to see Sara with the duke. Fortunately, it was only a dream.

***

Philip
held out his hand to Emma as she stepped from the carriage.

He glanced at his sister. “Are you ready, pretty one, for your first ball?”

“Oh, Philip, I am so excited! How many people do you think will be here? I hope my gown is appropriate. I do love the design Lady Downey made for me. Did you pay her something special? I am sure no one else will have a gown like this. I really think she made it special just for me. She is a very special lady, don’t you agree?”

Mary St. James, who stood on Philip’s other side,
stuck her head out, peeking around her son to glare at her daughter. “For heaven’s sake, Emma. Cease your incessant prattle and do remember your brother’s title, please. I know you are nervous, but if you continue babbling to your brother, he will escort you home in a hurry.”

“It’s all right, Mother. Emma is fine. I am sure she will calm down once we enter the ballroom and she realizes just how lovely she is tonight.” Philip leaned over and gave his sister a peck on her cheek. “And you are truly
beautiful, Emma.”

Philip had chastised his three brothers for not attending with him, but now was glad he had Emma to himself. His brothers would tease her too much. She didn’t need that on the night of her first ball.

Emma blushed and gazed up at her brother with a glorious smile. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Remember you are to be with me or your brother at all times tonight
,” the duchess warned. “You will not go off by yourself for any reason. Is that clear, Emma?”

“Yes, Mother. I will behave. You have reminded me several times now.” Emma’s eyes rolled up to look at the sky as she sighed.

“Mother is right this time, Emma. You are too young to be by yourself. There are too many young men searching for innocent females. Of course, with me by your side, they will stay away.” Philip peeked at his sister and noticed the frustration in her gaze. He smiled to himself. This night would be memorable for her.

He wondered how long he would have to stay. He
didn’t attend balls normally because he hated them, tiring quickly of the awkward young females shoved in his face by their aggressive mothers ever since his divorce became public knowledge. The fact he was able to obtain a divorce caused enough of a stir, but it also meant he was now marriageable material in the minds of his peers. Above all, he hoped Miranda would not have the nerve to show up. Since he knew her well, he expected she would be there, searching for another sponsor. He had only become involved with her because he knew he could buy her discretion. Who knew what she was truly capable of in her anger? She had the audacity to execute any number of stunts.

She
’d better use discretion tonight of all nights. If he stayed by Emma’s side, he guessed Miranda would know enough to stay away. With his mother there guarding Emma, Miranda would never make a scene. The duchess carried a colossal amount of power with the
ton.
Even Miranda would not dare to cross his mother with her daughter in attendance.

Once inside the door, the butler
announced them before they made their way down the steps. He strode directly to their hosts, Ardleigh and his wife.

“Lady
Ardleigh, you are a vision of loveliness tonight,” Philip said as he took her gloved hand.

“Why, thank you, Your Grace.” Phoebe curtsied to
Brentwood.

Philip noticed
most eyes in the ballroom turned to them. He introduced his sister. “May I present my sister, Lady Emma, and my mother, Mary, the Dowager Duchess of Brentwood.”

Phoebe took Emma’s hands in hers. “
Lady Emma, you are breathtaking tonight. Pink is a lovely color on you. Your gown is divine. As are you, Your Grace.” Phoebe turned to the duchess.

Emma curtsied as she blushed. “Thank you, Lady
Ardleigh. Lady Downey designed my new gown. I hoped it would be appropriate for my first ball.”

Phoebe’s eyes lit up with her smile.
“It is more than appropriate. You will steal many hearts tonight, I am afraid. All eyes will be on you.”

Emma’s face beamed as she turned to her brother. “Thank you,
Your Grace, for allowing me to come with you.”

“Come, Emma, I will find you some lemonade
, and we will allow Lady Ardleigh to greet her other guests.” Philip bowed briefly and led his family into the crowd, peering into many sets of male eyes as he passed to make sure they understood his sister was off limits.

***

Sara jumped at the sound of a cat falling on a box down the street. Her nerves had been on edge ever since the sounds of London at night had descended a couple of hours ago. She brushed a fallen hair out of her eyes as she worked, thinking how much she wished she could afford a nice boardinghouse. Now more than ever, she did not have the money. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact if anything happened, who would hear her?

She pac
ed in her showroom as she attempted to formulate a plan if Stinky appeared suddenly. Where could she go? She had a bad feeling about the night. Something was wrong. She certainly couldn’t visit the duchess; she would be at the Ardleigh ball tonight. The duke had said to get in touch with him. How was she to do that? Where would he be tonight? Visiting Phoebe was out of the question as well. She was entertaining and would have no time for Sara. Perhaps she could attend the ball, Phoebe wouldn’t mind. However, she no longer owned appropriate attire. Her clothes were threadbare.

Her mind brought her to some of the gowns
already finished and ready for purchase. Some of them had been made to fit her since she often tried them on to check the sizing. She stared at the readymade gowns, some decorating a chaise, some on her father’s T-bars. She recalled two possibilities. One gown was soft lavender with dark purple ribbons. Lavender was a little light for her since she was a widow, but the dark ribbons were beautiful. The other choice was yellow which would be totally inappropriate for Phoebe’s ball. She did not wish to stand out.

Foolish girl! Why would you think about attending a ball? You are no longer part of the ton anymore
. She paced again. A dark duke popped into her mind. When she had been at Phoebe’s the other day holding the baby, she had been totally startled by him, by both the man and by his good looks. She had flushed to her roots when she’d caught him staring at her. Why had he been staring? He was so gorgeous, each time she saw him, her heart melted a bit more. The ice in his blue eyes had also melted and this puzzled her. Why? What had changed between them?

Unable to form a
coherent thought in her brain, she’d been unable to find her voice when he had entered. She could think of nothing to say when the Duke of Brentwood stood there staring at her. Fortunately, Phoebe had returned quickly, or Sara would have been gravely embarrassed by her twisted tongue.

Strange noises brought her abruptly back to reality.
Freezing in her path, she thought she heard voices outside.

“What do you think you are doing, man? Can’t you see that her shop is closed?”

Her shop? What was he talking about? She rushed to her window and peered through the curtain. Two men argued a few feet from her door. One man she had never seen before, but the other looked familiar. She couldn’t make out all their words. Wait!

Stinky?
Was that Stinky? She watched as the stranger threw a fist at Stinky. The punch landed square in Stinky’s gut. He yelled and swung back but missed his target.

“Get the hell out of here, you dirty scum!” The stranger yelled at Stinky. A few more punches were thrown and finally, Stinky
escaped down the street.

Sara ra
ced to her door to thank the other man, but he disappeared.

Where
had he gone?

She opened her door and shouted down the street. “Come back! Don’t leave me here alone. Please, come back!”

Sara searched the street for her savior before slamming the door closed and locking it.

Oh
no! Stinky will be back for me. He is after my money already.

Turning from the window when the realization struck her, she
tore back into the showroom. What was she to do? She had to get out. He would probably come back for her. Where could she go? Her only choice was to attend Ardleigh’s ball. Maybe Philip was there. He had said he would help her. If she interrupted his evening, would he still be willing to help her?

What was she to do? She had to do something.
Willing herself to calm, she sat in a chair forcing deep breaths, but she couldn’t slow her racing heart. She couldn’t just stay here and wait for his return. Her mind raced with her possible options. She could stay and give him the money. Perhaps he would never bother her again, but he could break another bone. Heavens! Jumping out of the chair at the thought, she knew she couldn’t survive the agony again. Plus, she hadn’t saved enough money yet. Would he punish her for that?

Think, Sara, think
!

She had to get out
. She had no alternative.

She ran to the
middle room and pulled out the lavender gown. Removing her clothes, she threw them in the back room and tugged the gown on over her corset. She had a hard time with the buttons, but she finally did them up. How could she get to Ardleigh’s? Phoebe’s house was closer than the duke’s, but it was still quite a distance. And what if Stinky was watching the shop? Maybe he was out there right now waiting for her to make a move. Was it a trick? Had he set the whole thing up to get her to walk outside? Maybe he couldn’t get through her new locks. In that case, he would have to get her to leave her shop to get the money.

Maybe she should stay. Was it safer here?
Or would it be safer at Ardleigh’s? Sara put her hands in her face, uncertain as to what she should do.

Papa, w
hat should I do?

She
made the bold decision to leave. Staying in one place was impossible now that she had seen Stinky again. If he followed her and tried to kill her, then so be it. At least the torture would finally be over.

Sara found her reticule and bonnet. She
donned her cape and locked her shop. Glancing over her shoulder when the cold air hit her face, she was thankful there wasn’t a soul in sight. She hurried into the night, aiming blindly toward the Ardleigh estate.