Page 26 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
“Camilla, may I introduce the Duke of Willowick?” Anastasia asked. Camilla dropped a low curtsey.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” she murmured.
Anastasia smiled at Camilla, seeing that she was decidedly awkward, her glance moving to the door of the shop and back again as though she wanted to run inside.
“Can you see aught you like?” she asked Camilla, gesturing to the window. She wanted to put her friend at ease, and yet she could not—quite—bring herself to suggest that they go into the shop. The duke’s smile lit her mood, his green eyes sending a spark down her spine in a way that she did not understand. She felt happy having seen him.
“Um...that one,” Camilla replied. She was gesturing towards a roll at the back. “I think I will go inside and ask the draper about it.” She was practically begging to go inside.
Anastasia cleared her throat. “I...”
“Shall we all go in?” the duke asked.
Anastasia gaped at him in amazement. He was smiling at her, a little shyly, but in all other respects he was acting as though it was perfectly ordinary to visit the draper’s shop with people with whom one was barely acquainted.
“I need to purchase some fabric for the tailor,” he said a little awkwardly. “I need some new clothes that are not...well, that are not black.” He gestured to his outfit. Anastasia inclined her head.
“Of course,” she replied at once. “Then, do join us, I implore you.”
He was changing out of his mourning clothes. That couldonly be good, she thought happily—perhaps he had recovered a little from his grief.
He grinned, his posture shifting as if he was relieved. “Thank you.”
Her heart thudded as he stood back for Camilla and herself to enter the shop. Camilla went first, hurrying into the shop. Anastasia went next. Her heart thudded as she walked past the duke. He was just an inch away from the door frame and her skirt rustled against him as she went in. Her cheeks reddened, though she could not say why.
The duke followed them in, and then Rachel came in immediately after him. They all stood together in the center of the room. Anastasia tried to focus on the rolls of fabric, ignoring the man who stood beside her, not six inches away, but it was hard. She was aware of his presence as though he was a beacon of warmth and light, each part of her skin sensing he was there without her looking.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace. My ladies.” The proprietor, a woman at least ten years Anastasia’s senior, greeted them as she emerged from a workroom. “What may I do for you?”
Anastasia glanced up at the duke, but he was silent, waiting for Camilla and herself.
“I need fabric for an evening gown,” Camilla said after glancing awkwardly at Anastasia and the duke.
“Of course, my lady. Anything in particular?” The proprietor asked, smiling warmly at Camilla. Camilla was a regularcustomer, and Anastasia often came with her. “Silk, or velvet? Something light for summer?”
Camilla nodded. “I would like a thin silk. Have you any brocaded silks?”
“I have! I happen to have some new stock. A beautiful white brocade, just arrived this morning.”
Anastasia followed Camilla as she and the proprietor walked across the shop. Rachel went with them. She glanced sideways over her shoulder at the duke, who was standing in the center of the shop, looking around awkwardly.
“And here are some patterned muslins...so modish,” the proprietor was saying as she led them past the rolls upon rolls of fabric that lined the shop. Camilla stopped briefly to look at a muslin patterned with leaves, and then they went on to where the silks were. Anastasia glanced around, her eyes widening at the beautiful fabrics she saw there. Rolls of silk of all sorts of shades stood around—pale ones, bright ones and dark ones. The proprietor was looking at a roll of white silk with a pattern of white roses. Camilla lifted a piece of it admiringly.
“...and I would need enough for a dress with a fuller skirt,” Camilla was saying. Anastasia allowed her glance to move from her friend to the man who was standing in the center of the shop. He was gazing across at the rolls of fabric with a faraway stare. As she glanced over, his gaze moved to her. His green eyes held hers.
Anastasia felt her heart thudding. His stare was so striking. She barely noticed the scars when his eyes locked with hers.They were there, undoubtedly, thick lines across his face that made her long to know their origin. But when she stared into that green gaze, all she thought of was how handsome he was.
Her cheeks reddened.
“Perhaps you can assist me?” the duke asked, making Anastasia stiffen in surprise. She had not expected him to speak. He looked so awkward in the shop that she had expected he would ignore them all, but his voice was level and confident, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips.
“Of course. If it is possible for me to do so,” Anastasia added. He grinned.
“I think it is possible. You certainly are more well-schooled in the matters of fabric than me.” His brow lifted. “I require some advice. Should I need to purchase fabrics for an evening coat, what fabric would I require?”
Anastasia blinked in surprise. “Well...” she paused, thinking. “Velvet is always a fine choice. And brocade, too, perhaps, for a less restrained look? Mayhap a fine wool blend, though that would be better for the daytime...” she paused. His eyes widened.
“Velvet,” he said decidedly. He raised a brow. “That was quite comprehensive.”
