“Nothing, Mother. I apologize.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Did Eli pass through here a moment ago?”
“Why, yes, he did. But what is your problem?” She pursed her lips. “You are acting like a lovesick schoolboy. Control your behavior as befits a duke, would you please?”
“Your pardon, Mother, I must find Eli.” He pushed past her and headed out the side door to the stables.
“Eli!” he yelled, catching sight of him from behind. He chased the man down in the stables.
“Ah, there you are, Your Grace,” his footman said, turning around. Something was gripped in his hand. A note. And a box. The one that had contained the necklace. “Stevens thought you had headed to the stables. I feel I must inform you of the lady’s condition, as well.”
“What? Damnation, Eli, can’t you see I need to read the bloody note?” He took it from him, tugging it away, and read it right there in the stable. The duke’s eyes raced over the letter twice before he froze. Fury exploded inside of him.
He couldn’t believe it. Sara would never say such a thing. She wasn’t enterprising like Caroline. Except…
He read it again, his knuckles tightening around the paper, and growled. No, there was no misinterpreting such a message. He’d been wrong about her. Badly wrong. And he was ashamed to admit that it hurt. He’d let her get to him after all. And she’d gotten to his mother, too. His sister.
Philip grabbed the package from his messenger and strode back into his house, intent on his mission. “But Your Grace, I need to tell you something about the lady.”
“Later, Eli, later!” he yelled back over his shoulder. A few steps into the house, he called out, “Mother? Mother, where are you, blast it?”
His mother stepped into the hall and hastened toward him. “What is it this time, Philip? Must you continue this rowdy behavior?”
“This!” He shoved the note into her hands. “I need you to see this. See it and read it.”
Philip raked his fingers through his hair, hoping to calm himself, although it was a doomed mission. The blood pounded through his veins. Clenching his fist, he searched the room for something to hit. He hadn’t known it was possible to feel this angry with anyone.
He’d never felt like this about Caroline.
Calm down, he reminded himself. You promised yourself after Caroline left that you would never allow another woman to get under your skin.
“Philip, I don’t understand,” his mother said, looking up at him in confusion. “What is Lady Downey talking about?”
“This, this necklace I gave her—” he brandished the box, “—she returned it. I wanted you to see her words with your own eyes so you’ll understand why I can never be with Lady Downey.”
He opened the package and let the necklace cascade into his mother’s hands.
“This is not good enough for her. Do you see why I will never marry again? I thought she had a good heart, a kind soul. She makes clothes for the orphans, but this necklace isn’t good enough for her. Have you seen a finer piece?”
“Are you sure she’s talking about the necklace, Philip?” his mother said, her brow furrowing. “It doesn’t sound quite right to me. When did this happen?” She placed her hand on his arm. “And please calm down.”
“Calm down? I send her a necklace and she tells me it’s not big enough? She needs larger stones? How bold can she be?”
“But there is something about this note that does not quite fit the situation. She talks of ‘beads,’ not gems. Ladies don’t call gems ‘beads.’ I don’t think she’s talking about the necklace at all. Perhaps you’re misinterpreting the situation. Please reconsider, Philip, before you have a true apoplexy.”
“Gems, stones, beads. What difference does it make?” He poked his finger at the middle of the note. “ ‘If you have any larger, please save them for me.’ It is not good enough for her. She needs a larger necklace. And more than one. ‘Them,’ she says. ‘Them!’”
Philip needed to regain his control so he stomped out of the house. “I’m going riding, Mother. Just so long as you understand the subject is dropped. I will never remarry! And I don’t ever want to hear Lady Downey’s name again in my presence.”
He tore across the lawn, bellowing, “Saddle my horse!”
Before he mounted, he thought of one more thing. He went into the cupboard and collected the toy sailboat his father had given him.
As he galloped fiercely by the lake, he catapulted his beloved boat into the water. His dream was dead.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sara managed to get herself back onto the stool. She grabbed the bag of coins and emptied them into her skirts. Not enough. Returning them to the bag, she strode over and locked the front door. She stopped and turned to stare at her ruined creations.
The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. How much more could she handle? After all the days and nights she’d sat up late sewing, all her work had been ripped up by a jealous woman.
Fear of Stinky overpowered her. What could she do now? Although she had nearly enough money, it would be several days before she could complete the work that would earn her more. Maybe she should have kept the necklace. Better to be a whore than dead, right?
She was rolling the bag of coins around in her hand when the click of a door handle forced her to swing her head around.
She smelled him before she saw him. An eternity passed before he crept around the corner from the back of her shop. He approached her with his hand held out, a knowing grin revealing his black teeth. “You thought a larger lock would keep me out? I have all the necessary tools, my dear. You can try to lock me out, but it won’t happen.”
It was almost like he already knew she wouldn’t have enough.
You fool, she thought to herself. Did you really think money would entice him to leave you alone?
She dropped the bag into his hand.
He sneered at her, then glanced into the bag for a quick moment before his head came up. “Not enough, Lady Downey.”
“It will never be enough, will it?” Her shoulders slumped as she dropped her gaze to her broken finger. “You’ll always be back for more, won’t you? That’s why you’ve never told me the exact amount.”
“Ah, but can you blame me?” he said with a sick smile. “There is so much more you have to give.” He grabbed her chin, but she pulled away. “Ah, I’m not good enough for you?” He cackled. “We’ll see.” He pocketed the coins and then clutched her left arm in a vise-like grip, wrenching it painfully. “I see you are already bleeding. Maybe I can fix that.”
Instinct took over. She kicked him in the shin as hard as she could.
“You stupid bitch!” He slapped her hard across the cheek. Her knee flew up toward his groin but missed. Eyes filled with rage, he punched the other side of her face and grabbed a finger on her left hand, yanking it until it nearly snapped, but he lost his grip. Screaming and yanking, she cradled her arm. Did he mean to kill her? She kicked defensively again, but he shoved her to the floor and kicked her hip, sending a wave of pain through her body. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the next blow.
But it didn’t come.
When she opened her eyes and searched for him, he was gone.
The noises outside the door must have interrupted him, but she didn’t have the energy to look out there and see what was going on. She didn’t have the energy for anything.
She laid her head back as her vision dimmed.
***
Sara awoke to darkness. How long had she been there? She noticed blood had splashed the floor around her. Another finger was possibly broken and maybe her arm from the wrenching. Worst of all, her spirit was broken.
Hopelessness beat down on her. She had nothing. Stinky stole every cent she could make, and if he continued to injure her, she wouldn’t be able to sew at all. And then there was Miranda, who’d made it clear she would attempt to harm her, too, if she persisted in seeing the duke. The duke only wanted her as a whore, and she had
only one friend, Phoebe.
Perhaps she should accept Philip’s offer. Pride and self-respect wouldn’t get her very far if Stinky came for her again. She could no longer stay here by herself.
Let’s see, she thought, raped, dead, or a mistress. Which should I choose?
A banging sound off in the distance caught her attention. What was that racket?
The sound of splintering wood broke through the fog in her brain. She managed to raise her eyes enough to see Phoebe’s messenger and the Earl of Ardleigh standing just inside her door. Phoebe pushed past them and was at her side in an instant. She took one look at Sara’s arm and gasped. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the chaos and destruction Miranda and Stinky had wrought, and then settled on Sara.
“Sara, I am taking you home with me,” she said. “I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer. My footman informed Ardleigh and me of the problems you were having, although he forgot to mention someone had broken your other finger.”
Sara attempted a smile. Phoebe, the only person she could trust, had come for her. She managed to nod. It happened quickly after that. Ardleigh and Phoebe helped her to stand, then Phoebe ran upstairs to grab a few of Sara’s things. They left the ruins of her shop behind.
***
Philip slowed his horse to a canter. He noticed the foam at the horse’s mouth and decided to take him to the creek for water. It had been wrong of him to take his anger out on the horse.
At least he was thinking coherently again. He understood why his mother had questioned the situation. He was still stunned. Sara was different, he could feel it in his gut, and that note truly didn’t sound like it had come from the woman he had grown to—to what?
How did he feel about her? He rubbed the side of his face. Sara had given him hope again. Making love to her was unlike any other romantic experience he’d had. They had actually laughed together in bed. Shouldn’t lovers be able to laugh? He never had before. Not with Miranda. And certainly not with Caroline.
Maybe Sara had only returned the necklace to make him angry. To get back at him for not proposing to her.
What was his next move? He certainly wouldn’t buy her a larger necklace. Maybe it would be best to talk to her in person. Set her straight. Yes, he’d tell her to her face what he thought of her note.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Philip drove his phaeton into the city, intent on confronting Sara as soon as possible now that he’d decided to do so. Except his determination bled out of him the moment he saw the front of her shop. The door was destroyed. Someone had broken into her shop.
Stinky, it had to be Stinky.
He found his way through the splintered wood and searched the front room. Cold sweat poured down his neck and his forehead as he stared at the destruction. Torn gowns and ripped material covered the floor. Blood speckled both the floor and the gowns. Whose blood?
Someone yelled at him. He jerked his head around to see who was there.
“Brentwood, that you, Your Grace? What happened here? Someone reported a break-in. Seems they have it correct.” A gentleman from the horse patrol stood in the entranceway.
“Shouldn’t you know, Officer? Someone breaks into a woman’s shop in broad daylight and you don’t know anything about it?” He struggled to rein in his temper.
“Well, we heard the commotion, but we didn’t get here in time to talk to the gentleman firsthand,” the officer said, his tone a touch defensive. “There were so many people strolling about the crowd held us back. We saw your arrival from across the street. Thought you might know something.” The officer stared into his eyes, waiting for him to speak.
“What man? What man did you see?” His voice trembled as he battered the officer with his questions.
“Ardleigh, Your Grace. The Earl of Ardleigh’s carriage was here. He broke the door down to get to Lady Downey.”
“What do you mean he had to break the door down?” It felt as if a hand had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart as he waited for the answer to his question. It was entirely possible he was about to vomit or have an apoplexy.
“I don’t know any details, but Lady Ardleigh swept her off to her house. She said she needed to get a physician for her. That was all she said.” The officer studied him a little too hard. “Any idea who might try to hurt Lady Downey, Your Grace?”
Philip flew out the door and jumped into his phaeton.
“No, I don’t know who did this,” he tossed back over his shoulder.
He hated lying.
But Stinky was his.
***
The trip to Ardleigh’s was the longest journey of his life. He’d spent so much time thinking of how to proceed with Sara that he hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that she might be plucked from his life. Why hadn’t he made her safety more of a priority? When was the last time he had spoken with his private investigator? He berated himself over and over again.
He had broken one of his own caveats. Always rely on logic before lust. Bloody hell, why hadn’t he followed his own edict?
He knew why—Sara made him lose the ability to think rationally.
When he reached the Ardleigh residence, he barged in past Ardleigh’s butler, yelling for Edward.
The earl and the countess both stepped out to greet him, although he didn’t care for the expressions on their faces. The hand clutching his heart squeezed harder.
“Where is she? I must see her. What happened? Is she all right?”
Ardleigh ushered him into the library.
“Brentwood, have a seat,” his friend said, gesturing toward a chair.
“A seat? I cannot sit! Where is she? Ardleigh, stop playing games and speak!” he shouted. “I saw the destruction and the blood all over her shop. What happened?”
Phoebe, who’d followed them in, stepped up beside him and placed her hand on his arm. “Physically, she is fine, Your Grace. The physician is bracing her finger as we speak, though he’s uncertain as to whether it’s a break or a sprain. Emotionally, her condition is more questionable. We don’t know the whole story yet.”
“Setting her finger? More broken bones? Blast it, I need to be with her.” He bolted out the door and up the stairs. A maid at the top of the landing pointed him in the right direction.
He vaguely heard Phoebe yelling up the staircase, her tone angry now.
“Your Grace, you have no right!”
“I have every right. She’s mine,” Philip declared for all to hear.
He stopped in the doorway and stared at Sara lying in the middle of the bed. The physician probed her arm as he talked to her. His heart sank as he noticed how slight she looked in the bed. He stepped into the room as softly as he could.
The physician’s head jerked up.
“Your Grace, this is not proper. You can’t stay. You have my word that I’ll take care of Lady Downey.” The man’s straight-backed posture was formidable, but nothing would stop Philip. He belonged at her side. He should have never left.
“Sara?” He approached the bed cautiously. Her head turned to find his voice, but her eyes were blank. There was no recognition in them.
“Sara? It’s me, Philip. Can you hear me?” His voice faltered as he took in her bandaged arm, her swollen fingers. He pushed past the physician, only to stagger to a stop. The bruising on her cheek was evident along with the swollen black eye on the other side of her face. He fought to unclench his fists and slow his breathing to normal. He didn’t want to upset her anymore.
She didn’t respond to him at all. Her eyes found his, but they looked…empty. Oh, saints above, what had happened? He’d never seen eyes like hers; they unnerved him.
“Dr. Newberry, how many broken bones?” Philip whispered to the doctor while holding Sara’s gaze.
“Possibly one more finger, same hand. I can’t be certain because of all the swelling. Brutal man she was accosted by. Thought the arm might be broken, too, but after examining it, I don’t think so. Will bother her f
or a while. You can see the damage to her face; she also has a bruised hip. Someone needs to help this poor woman.” He peered over his glasses at Philip as he held Sara’s arm. “I don’t care to see what comes next.”
“I’ll sit with her while you set her finger.”
The man studied him for a moment, then said, “I cannot bodily remove you from the room. I have given her enough laudanum to make the pain tolerable. Please sit and don’t aggravate her. She’s very fragile right now.”
Philip moved to the other side of the bed. He pulled up a chair close enough that he could take her hand. Sara’s eyes followed him, completely void of emotion. He kissed her fingers and whispered, “I’m sorry, Sara. I am so, so sorry. I should never have let this happen to you.”
Dr. Newberry gave him a perplexed look, but Philip ignored him.
“Hold her tight, Brentwood, she may scream and come off the bed. I just wish to probe it a bit to determine if it’s broken. With all the swelling, it could be quite painful.”
Dr. Newberry gripped her hand and moved her injured finger back and forth.
Sara never flinched. She stared into Philip’s eyes and didn’t blink.
Philip dropped his head to the bed to hide his tears.
***
Philip entered Ardleigh’s library after Sara had fallen asleep.
He ran his hand down his face and stared at Ardleigh. “What happened?”
Phoebe followed him in moments later, quickly enough that he wondered if she’d been watching the stairs, and closed the door. “We’re uncertain as to what happened. Sara wasn’t coherent enough to tell us everything. I might ask you why you are here. How did you know where to find her?”
Phoebe’s eyes locked with his. She wasn’t going to make this easy, but perhaps he didn’t deserve for it to be.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and paused for a moment, feeling the crumpled paper inside. Confusion danced through his mind. He strode over to the window to clear his head. He’d forgotten about the letter. The fear he’d felt upon seeing her door broken in…it had erased everything that had come before. But when he reached in his pocket, the paper was still there. Needing to steel himself, he unfolded it and silently read the words.
Reforming the Duke Page 13
