The Duke and the Dressmaker (The St. James Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

the St. James’s departure. She could not bear to see any more customers. Her hands shook as the pain traveled up her arm from the small movement. Truth was the Duke of Brentwood totally unnerved her. She really wanted to hate him, yet he was so handsome, and the more she knew him, the more she grew to appreciate him. Glancing out the window, she stared in awe at the regally gilded carriage they rode in. Expecting him to be as distant and cold as their first encounter, she had been surprised at how sweet he had been with his sister. When he talked to Emma, the blue in his eyes glowed, not appearing cold, as they were when he spoke to Sara. Even the gentleness of his touch had shocked her.
    She dragged herself over to the chair in her work room. Her good hand came up to hold her head in frustration. She didn’t like the duke because she didn’t understand him. Whenever he was near, her stomach churned with butterflies, probably because he was a duke. No one had ever done such to her before, not even her husband, so her feelings were no doubt caused by the duke’s rank. When he had stepped closer to her, she had been able to feel her blood pulsating through her veins. After her face flushed so deeply, warmth had washed through her entire body.
    Even when he had stood close to her , demanding answers, she didn’t fear him, unlike the stinky man. Confused by her emotions, she found she enjoyed the fact that he towered over her. She had spent much of her life hating her own height, but she matched the duke perfectly. She actually had to gaze up at him.
    She had so wanted to tell him the truth. How wonderful it would have been if she could have leaned into him and allowed him to hold her, to let her tears flow and pour out her heart, all the while being wrapped in his warm embrace. If only she had someone to share her pain and her fears, someone stronger than she was. What was she to do? The dirty man had been clear with his threats. Shuddering at the thought of being touched again by that disgusting man, she knew she had no alternative but to try to pay him off. Unfortunately, he had not told her how much her foolish husband owed him, and she had been in too much pain to ask.
    Sara sighed and shuffled upstairs to rest on her couch. She was fast asleep in minutes.
    ***
    After they arrived home, Philip broke away from his mother as quickly as he could. He gave Emma a quick peck on the cheek with the hopes of exiting his estate in due time.
    “Philip, are you all right?” his mother queried.
    Ah, but it was not meant to be. He turned to his mother. “Of course, Mother, I am fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
    “You were very upset in Lady Downey’s shop. That poor girl! What she has had to deal with, too much for someone of such a tender age. She seems all alone as well. I don’t know any of her family.” The duchess shook her head in confusion. “She looks familiar to me, but I can’t quite pinpoint why.”
    Philip leaned ove r and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Mother, I really must be going. I have an estate to run. I am going to my solicitor’s office,” he said on his way out the front door, silently wishing his mother would allow him to depart.
    He couldn’t fault his mother’s interference. The duchess believed it to be her responsibility to make sure her husband’s property was kept in the family. Being the first male child, it was his duty to have male sons of his own to carry on his heritage. Nobility thrived on the firstborn males reproducing at least one and preferably two sons. An heir and a spare, as the saying went. But after Caroline, he had no desire to marry again, thus no legitimate male heirs. His mother was not happy about it.
    As he climbed into his carriage, he let out a deep sigh. His mother’s intuition was right, as usual. She would notice when any woman unsettled him. He had been very upset. Why had he become so angry about the chit’s bruises? She was nothing to him. What did it