Free The Duke and the Dressmaker (The St. James Series) by Keira Montclair Page A

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