Page 39 of A Virgin for the Duke of Scars
“May I introduce you to Her Grace, the Duchess of Blackwell?”
Theresa gave her a smile that lit up her whole face.
The dressmaker bobbed a quick curtsy. “What can I do for you today, Your Grace?”
“My new wife needs a wardrobe that suits her,” Aaron explained.
Surely once she looked at Theresa’s gown, she would realize that her clothes lacked refinement. It was downrightindecent.
Aaron could hardly think straight around her.
The dressmaker walked slowly around Theresa,tskingas she studied her gown. Her eyes swept over his wife from head to toe, narrowing on her hairdo and hands. Indeed, Theresa was tanner than most of the ladies who frequented her shop.
“Perhaps the dresses in this section,” the dressmaker suggested, taking Theresa’s arm and guiding her to the front of the shop. “I have only a handful of ready-made gowns if you are in urgent need. But I can sew others to fit you and deliver them in a few days.”
Aaron happened to know that this was where the most expensive dresses were kept. But he couldn’t care less about the price tag, if they made Theresa happy.
If they kept her body covered and allowed him to think about anything other than stripping her down.
“Dear husband, what do you think of this one?” Theresa asked, pulling him into the conversation.
She held up a teal dress with enough green in it to make her eyes stand out against her tanned skin. The skirts were full, hiding the small waist that his arms itched to wrap around. But thebodice was lower than he would have liked—it would push up her breasts.
“Choose whatever you like,” he said instead.
The purpose of this trip was to make it easier to think around her, rather than make it easier to thinkabouther.
Like him, the dressmaker noticed Theresa’s tendency to select bold colors off the rack. She grabbed a few more in shades of deep ruby, sapphire, and emerald. All the jewel tones that were not so common amid theton, but that suited her complexion perfectly.
“A woman who likes a bold color.” The dressmaker nodded approvingly.
“We were forbidden to wear these colors.” Theresa fingered the fabric of the dress in front of her. Her expression was almost wistful, but she looked up at Aaron with bright eyes. “Is this the fashion here?”
“You can set your own trends,” he encouraged.
“I will box these up for you,” the dressmaker said, taking the dresses from her arms. “You will need nightgowns as well, yes?”
“Oh, I think I have some?—”
“Yes, she will need nightgowns that fit her,” Aaron cut in.
He could tell that Theresa was about the deny it, but he knew he could not resist long if she continued to wear those ill-fitting gowns.
“I have just the thing,” the dressmaker declared, pulling a few soft, flowing nightgowns from behind the counter.
They were more indecent than they had any right to be. A nightgown for a husband to peel off his wife. Not something for her to roam the manor in.
In due time, she wouldn’t be roaming the manor at all. She would be locked in his chambers with him, sharing his bed.
That was the image that flashed through Aaron’s mind when he looked at those nightgowns. And on the nights she spent with him, she certainly would not need them.
“We’ll take the lot,” he said without consulting her.
He could only hope that she would visit him tonight, dressed in one of those new nightgowns.
He turned toward the front of the shop, hoping to hide his arousal at the image of her in one of those nightgowns.
“But it is too much,” Theresa protested, drawing his attention back. “This must cost a fortune. Perhaps we could get one or two dresses for special occasions. I can continue to wear the ones in the wardrobe you provided me.”
