Page 70 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
“Felix, the letters you’ve been receiving. Leonard said you thought they were coming from John and warning you to stay away from Sarah. Did they mention that specifically? Or could they have been warning you to stop planting your fields to grow Whitfield Wines?” Juliet asked quickly.
The truth of what she said slapped him in the face. He thought about the contents of each letter.‘Something that’s not yours’.He had immediately thought of Sarah—likely because she was always on his mind—but Juliet was right. Not a one had been specific, and in fact, things had gotten worse the day they had completed planting… because he had not stopped as they had warned him to.
He saw the same realization hit Leonard as well. “Of course,” he said, standing now too, the exhaustion on his face wiped away by fervor. “Someone saw me expanding and wanted us to stop. But who? And why?”
“Someone with a business or personal vendetta against you. Someone who either hates you and wants to see you fail, or stands to profit from your failure,” Juliet said.
“You said you visited this morning, could there still be clues we could look for?” Felix asked Leonard.
“I cannot say for sure, but it’s worth a try.” He walked to the doorway and called for his footman. “Edwards! We are going to London!” He turned back to Felix. “Edwards has the sharpest eye for detail, you cannot imagine the small things he picks up on. We’ll take my carriage, we can speak to the constable while we are in London.” He kissed his wife. “I will come home with answers, my love.”
And so they went.
* * *
Sarah only just remembered to remove the counterpane and unlock the door before Rebecca came in with tea and to help her dress. She was closing the lid on the chest when the lady’s maid entered.
“Your mother asked me to tell you that you must complete the embroidery on your fabric before lunch today,” she said as she helped Sarah into her gown for the day. “A dressmaker is arriving in the afternoon to begin fitting it to you.”
“Did she say what it was for? Knowing its purpose would help me do it properly.”
“No, Miss.” Rebecca said.
After she’d had her tea, she took the fabric to her window seat and began the finishing touches. She was nearly done anyway, with just the neckline to work on now. With last night’s visit warm in her mind, she worked tiny crescent moons among the border pattern, with a spray of small stars at the center. She completed the task just before lunch, holding it up in the sunlight to assess the work.
The embroidery of the muslin told the story of her past few weeks with Felix. The desire to be free, their reach for the stars together, the midnight visit, it was all here on the fabric. And yet she would be able to show it to her mother for approval without it betraying a thing. She smiled to herself as she tied off the final stitch and brought it downstairs.
Her mother was in the drawing room, reading the copy of the novel she had also given Sarah. She looked up when her daughter entered. “Ah, have you finished?” She reached for the material, laying her book aside.
She inspected the stitches carefully, before the design. After a few minutes of silence, she nodded and handed the material back. “Leave it here. Mrs. Rose will be here any minute now to fit it to you. You have done very well.”
Sarah had her lunch in silence, her mind caught in the dream of last night and the anticipation of the night to come. Mrs. Rose, the dressmaker, arrived shortly after and had Sarah stand on a stool in the drawing room, facing a mirror she had brought with her. With quick, skilled hands, she pinned the muslin into shape, fitting it loosely against Sarah’s body. As she did, Sarah was able to make out the shape of what the gown would be.
The trace-lines to indicate where she should embroider had given her some idea of what the gown would look like, but seeing it on her was something else entirely. The neckline skimmed low across her chest and hit at half-shoulder, exposing the soft skin above. The waist, trimmed narrow over her slim hips, opened up to a wide, full skirt. It was so flattering, she forgot about everything else but the simple delight in a pretty gown, turning this way and that to admire it in the mirror. Her minuscule, detailed embroidery showed bright against the deep coloring, providing an extra allure.
“You’ve done a wonderful job on the details, Miss Sarah,” the dressmaker said warmly, running a light finger over the threads.
“She has, hasn’t she?” They both turned to see Lady Marlow in the doorway, her sharp eyes appraising the fit. She came behind Sarah and pulled the material at the waist in, looking to Mrs. Rose. “Take this in further. We’ll ensure her stays are tight. And bring the neckline just a breath lower.”
Mrs. Rose nodded and removed a few pins, getting to work.
“Mother, the neckline is already low,” Sarah protested.
“Don’t be silly, darling. Men like to see a little. Just enough. Trust me on this,” she said, still assessing the fit.
“Are you going to tell me what this gown is for?”
“We’re going to a dinner party tomorrow evening. Don’t forget, Mrs. Rose, I’ve paid extra to ensure it will be ready by then.” She shot a pointed look at the dressmaker, who nodded.
“Of course. My girls are ready to get to work the moment I return to my shop, and I’ll have it brought to you tomorrow afternoon.” She stepped back. “I think we are ready now.” She helped Sarah step out of the fabric, wrapping it carefully in paper and having her man take her mirror outside. “Good day, Lady Marlow, Miss Sarah.”
When she was gone, Sarah turned to her mother. “Whose dinner party?”
“Don’t be silly, you know exactly whose. Lord Ashton would like to get to know you better, and has been kind enough to invite us all to his home tomorrow evening. It’s in London,” she said, raising her brows.
Sarah bit her lip. She could resist, but maybe it was better not to, for now at least. Bide her time as she and Felix came up with a plan of their own. So she held her tongue, but in her heart, she was making a plan.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
