Reforming the Duke

by Keira Montclair

  “What did he want with her anyway?” Ben flopped down into a chair.

  “Sara said something about Stinky selling her, and I don’t like the implications of that.”

  Ben glanced at Graham before shifting his gaze back to Philip. “Sell her for what? You just can’t sell a member of the aristocracy.”

  “If you remember, she is no longer a member of the four hundred, thanks to her husband. She is a member of the working class,” Philip barked.

  “You don’t have to yell at us,” said Ben, raising his hands in surrender. “We didn’t kidnap her. We’re trying to help, remember? We’re all on the same side here.”

  “I know, I am sorry. The thought of Sara being sold for prostitution is more than I can bear. I finally find the right woman, and she could be swept out from beneath me.”

  “Prostitution! Hell, are you out of your mind?” Ben bounded out of his chair.

  “Right woman? Did I hear you correctly, Philip? Are you that besotted?” Graham asked with a smirk on his face. “Finally found the right one, did you? I can hardly blame you, the woman is gorgeous.”

  The sound of a throat clearing and a foot tapping interrupted them. All three brothers turned to see their mother standing in the doorway.

  “If you please, keep your yelling contained. I do not care to have to be forced to explain such matters to your sister.” The duchess used her best steely gaze to get her sons in line. “Kindly fill me in on everything, Philip, although do mind your language. There is noble blood in Lady Downey somewhere. Stop talking about her as if she were a slattern. I will not allow it.”

  Philip sat down across from his mother and reviewed the evening in detail.

  Once he finished, she stood up with her hands on her hips. “What is your plan?” she asked with plenty of attitude.

  “There is no plan, Mother. Sara is with the Ardleighs. She will be fine as long as she stays there. She was exhausted last night.”

  “Yes, but when she awakens? You need to inform her that the man is still out there.”

  “I’m not telling her anything. She needs to have a few days’ rest without living in fear. She has been through a horrific experience, Mother, and I will not have her troubled. She needs time to heal.”

  His mother marched over and stood directly in front of him. “I know that, and I see you have developed strong feelings for her, but you cannot keep something so important from her.”

  Philip crossed his arms. “Please do not go to the Ardleighs and tell her. I will protect her from the truth for a few more days.”

  “And what if Lady Downey decides to return to her shop for some of her belongings? Or a dress she needs to finish? She’s a conscientious person, mark my words, and she will feel compelled to finish her work.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! The woman had the fright of her life last night. She’ll not be able to move from her bed, much less think about traveling anywhere. You should have seen how she was tossed and wrenched about. She is probably in agony this morning.”

  She shook her head. “Where did you get this ridiculous idea that women possess such frail constitutions? I didn’t teach you that. It must have been your father.”

  His brow furrowed. Frail constitution? Sara certainly did not have a frail constitution. Was he treating her as such? Deuce it, no. Any woman would be upset by all that had happened in the past few days. Hellfire, in the past month! He wanted to protect her. That was all. He’d failed her before, but this time he would not. He couldn’t handle watching her disappear in front of his eyes again.

  He turned to his mother. “I understand your point, and I’ll tell her. But I think she needs a day or two of peace. Can you not grant me that? I do not want her bothered today.”

  “All right, Philip. Your ex-wife has finally released her hold on you, hasn’t she?” She reached over and patted his hand. “It couldn’t have happened at a better time. Lady Downey is everything you need, son.” She smiled at her son as she strolled toward the kitchen. “That was quite a necklace you gave her, by the way. It truly was made for her.”

  ***

  Sara jerked up in bed as soon as she realized the sun was streaming through the windows. The quick movement sent a wave of pain through her. Moving her legs to the side of the bed, she supported her broken fingers and clenched her teeth, determined to stand. Fighting the queasiness in her belly, she washed up quickly and smoothed her hair.

  Phoebe’s maid entered as she searched for something to wear.

  “My lady! Oh my. No. Lady Ardleigh said you mustn’t get out of bed. Please! Let me help you back into bed.” She wrung her hands, bustling behind Sara.

  Sara shook her head. “I’m sorry, but there’s something I must do. Please help me get dressed. I must go to my shop.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sara stood back as Frederick opened her shop door. “I don’t know, Lady Downey. I still think Lady Ardleigh will be furious with me for taking you out. I don’t know why they had to leave so early this morning. We probably ought to have waited for them to return.”

  They’d apparently gone off to meet the duke, which had left Sara a little miffed. Why hadn’t he asked her to come?

  “Frederick, I promise not to say a word to the Ardleighs. But now that Stinky has been apprehended and is no longer a threat to me, I must reclaim a few of my possessions.”

  She tiptoed through the door and stopped, staring at the havoc Miranda Montrose had wreaked on her shop. She couldn’t stop herself from running her fingers through the fabric of each ruined gown. Why? What had possessed the woman? She supposed jealousy compelled people to do terrible things, but to threaten someone with a knife? Tear her gowns to shreds?

  Pity was the only emotion she could summon for Miranda Montrose. All the damage she’d done hadn’t brought the duke back to her.

  It felt strange to be back here, ominous, but Stinky’s words had motivated her. He’d threatened to burn her shop down, and while he was currently in custody, his threat had reminded her of the one irreplaceable thing hidden in her shop.

  Her mother’s reticule.

  She had hoped Ardleigh or Phoebe would be available to go along with her, but perhaps it was best that they’d been away. They might have attempted to stop her, and she needed to protect the bag. It was the only memento she had from her mother. Besides, the task would only take a matter of minutes. She would leave as soon as she gathered a few of her things and the reticule.

  She made her way up the narrow staircase slowly so as not to jar her arm. She filled a small bag of her personal things along with some night clothes and packed her four favorite day dresses. As she made her way down the stairs, she called for Frederick to help her.

  He appeared quickly, red-faced. “Please hurry, my lady. I will not relax until I return you to the carriage.”

  “I’m almost done. Here, please take this bag out, and I will give you one other sack of dresses to bring.” Frederick threw the bag into the carriage and returned quickly. Sara gazed at her dresses. She reached for a pale blue silk gown and a light peach satin trimmed with ribbons and lace around the neckline. “Here, Frederick, if you could arrange these two nicely in the carriage, I will grab my mother’s bag and be right behind you. Forget the sack, perhaps we can take them without wrinkling them too much.”

  She sighed as she found her mother’s bag. Miranda had not touched it, thank goodness. She hugged it close to her chest and willed herself not to cry over it. A noise startled her from behind and she turned. Sharp pain erupted in her head before she collapsed into a world of darkness.

  ***

  Sara opened her eyes and stared at a pile of garbage directly in front of her nose. Peering at her surroundings, she realized she was lying in the alley behind her shop with a cloth stuffed in her mouth. Her sense of smell told her Stinky was not far. The muttering of his voice reached her ears just as she realized he was busy tying her legs together.

  How could this be happening to her again?
Wasn’t he supposed to be with the horse patrol? She attempted to yell but found a knife at her throat in an instant.

  “Close your mouth, missy, or I’ll gut you right here and leave you. You are proving to be almost too much trouble for me. Almost isn’t enough to stop ol’ Harry, though. No, sir. My boss promised me more money once he got a look at ya. Too bad I haven’t the time to sample you meself first.” He tugged on the rope securing her legs and dragged her closer to a wagon.

  Her head pounded worse than ever, if that were possible. Thinking she heard a voice, she held her breath, hoping help was near. She noticed her back door still slightly ajar, so she stilled in the hopes someone might see her.

  An authoritative voice rang out from the front of the shop, unmistakable. It could only be the duchess. She looked about for Stinky, but he had disappeared.

  “Please tell me your purpose here, young man.”

  Frederick hastened to answer. “Oh, Your Grace, Lady Downey wanted to retrieve her mother’s bag. She gathered up some things and I settled them in the carriage. She will be right out. I promise to take her straight home.”

  Sara sighed in relief as she heard the dowager step inside the shop. She would be saved again.

  “Sara? Where are you?”

  Sara could hear the duchess moving toward her. She tried to yell again, but the gag was too tight. Not a single sound got out. Stinky returned moments later, brandishing his knife. In two quick movements, he hoisted her up over his shoulder and then tossed her in the back of a wagon.

  Stinky lowered his face to hers, his stench nearly choking her. “There’ll be no more getting away from me this time. Perhaps I’ll even have ya before I’m done. Got your nose up in the air and think you’re better than me? Well, we’ll see.” Covering her with a coarse blanket, he climbed up in the box and snapped the reins. Sara kicked but to no avail. The jarring motion inflamed her headache, so she closed her eyes in frustration, thinking of Philip.

  ***

  The dowager rushed into the dayroom where Philip and the Ardleighs planned their attack against Stinky. Her bones were getting old, but she could still move quickly when necessary.

  The butler chased along behind her. “Your Grace, please be careful. Do not hurt yourself.”

  She marched into the middle of their conversation, dropped Sara’s mother’s bag onto the tabletop and said, “When will you ever learn to listen to me, Philip? This is all that is left of Sara.”

  Philip bolted out of his seat and held the reticule up. “What is this? I’ve never seen it before. And what the bloody hell does that mean?”

  Phoebe let out a little scream, reaching for the bag and clutching it to her chest when Philip gave it to her. “This belonged to Sara’s mother. She treasured it. She must have returned to the shop to get it. Is that where you found it, Your Grace?”

  “I noticed Frederick was there with his carriage, so I stopped to see what he was doing. He said he was waiting for Sara, but when I stepped inside, this was on the floor. Clearly didn’t belong there. And something else was amiss…”

  Even now, the memory filled her with distaste.

  Philip bolted out of his seat. “What, Mother? Please do tell!”

  “There was a foul odor throughout the entire place. I called out, but no one answered.”

  Philip muttered one word before he bounded out of the room.

  “Stinky.”

  ***

  Sara awoke to find her gag had been removed at least, and the softness under her told her she was in a bed and not a wagon. But that was where the good news ended. Both of her feet and her right arm were bound to the bedposts. She heard two voices conversing at the far side of the room.

  “What the hell made you bring her here? I don’t want her,” a woman said.

  The man who answered her was obviously Stinky, although she dared not move her head to check. “Your boss man said he would pay me good money for her. She kicks and fights like a cat, that one. She’s a mean one.”

  “Get her out. She’s been seen with the Duke of Brentwood. She’ll bring trouble down on us, she will. You have to get rid of her.”

  “Get rid of her? She’s a beauty. Once your boss breaks her, she’ll make you a lot of money. She’s got nice titties, too, even through her clothes. I grabbed a quick feel on the way over.”

  She heard a resounding slap.

  “What was that for?” Stinky asked, his tone an obnoxious whine.

  “I told you not to touch the merchandise. You know how the man is. He doesn’t want no used goods. Keep your hands off her.”

  Her eyes teared up as she listened. She knew she had to keep control and not let them know she was awake.

  The woman spoke again with a vicious tone as she began to pace in front of the bed, her steps grating on Sara’s nerves. “You’re not wrong, you fool. She is a beauty, and that is exactly why the duke will come looking for her. You have to get her out of here before it’s too late, Stubby.”

  Stubby? His name was Stubby? Probably for his teeth. She gazed around the room as much as possible without moving her head. Although she could not see much from her vantage point, the walls were covered in gaudy red paper-hangings, bedecked with two paintings of nude figures in obscene positions. She was on a large four-poster bed with a perfumed-soaked coverlet and a mirror above the bed.

  Reality slowly made its way through the fog in her brain. Surely, she couldn’t be where she thought she was… She stole a quick peek at the woman talking to Stinky. Neither of them glanced her way, thankfully. She was a dark-haired woman with a voluptuous bosom. Her breasts threatened to spill out her clothing, her hair was piled artfully atop her head, and she carried a whip. A whip?

  This cannot be. Please, God, don’t let this be what I’m thinking.

  Her pulse sped up at the mere thought. She was in a house of prostitution. It had to be. The woman must be the madam of the place. Stinky wanted to sell her to the owner so she could whore for him. That word—prostitution—reverberated in her brain. They were going to force her to prostitute? How was that possible?

  She forced herself to shut her eyes and picture Philip. He smiled at her, telling her how much he loved her, how he would protect her. He would save her, wouldn’t he?

  But what if he didn’t arrive in time? What if he couldn’t find her?

  No, she had to figure out a way to save herself.

  “And what are we going to do with a strumpet with a broken arm, Stubby? It would tend to get in the way of certain positions.”

  “It ain’t broken, just her fingers. Her mouth still works, don’t it? I’ll make her earn her keep. She owes me for all the trouble she’s caused me, that one.”

  “If you take that smelly thing out of your pants in front of me, I will cut it off.” The whip snapped in the air. “You ought to take a bath on occasion. Your smell is disgusting.”

  Stinky ran his fingers across the stubble on his chin before spitting into the spittoon in the corner. “Bring me to the boss. I brought him a prime piece of flesh, and I expect to be paid. I want to see him now, before she wakes up.”

  “Fine, I’ll take you. Just so you will believe me and get her out of here.” They disappeared out the door and slammed it shut with a clatter.

  Sara knew it was her only chance to escape. As soon as they left the room, she tugged at her bindings with all her strength, but to no avail. Her captors were quite adept at tying knots. Glancing at herself in the mirror overhead, she was horrified when she noticed the large bump on the side of her head and the crusted blood matted in her hair. She wanted to cry but was afraid to make a sound.

  A soft sound from the corner of the room put her on high alert. Perhaps it was the door opening again. Closing her eyes, she pretended to be asleep, but her heart was thundering in her chest. She had to do something. She had to get out.

  “Lady, hey lady, here.” She opened her eyes as someone gently jostled her shoulder. A fair-haired young girl glanced down at her, freckles d
ancing across the bridge of her nose. At her age, she should be attending her first come-out parties.

  “Drink this. Who knows how long they will keep you tied up.” She offered her a bit of tea. Sara lifted her head to take a sip, alarmed by how much energy it took to do so.

  “Please help me. Untie me. I have to get away,” she begged the young girl. “I don’t belong here. I was kidnapped. I don’t even know where I am.”

  “Shhhh! Not too loud. I don’t know when they’ll be back. You are in the House of Candie’s Sweet Treats. I think you can guess what I am and what kind of treats we are. No, you didn’t belong here, but now you do. Once Stubby brings you here, there is no way out.”

  “But there has to be. Please help me. I will pay you in silver if you help me or get a message to the Duke of Brentwood. Or the Earl of Ardleigh. Please! I cannot stay here,” she pleaded. The girl had to believe her.

  “He hurt you pretty bad. What’s your name?” the young girl asked.

  “Sara, Lady Sara Downey. I promise to pay you well if you help me.”

  “I can’t release you,” the girl said solemnly. “They will kill me if I help you. They have done it before. Well, actually, they just broke Anna’s leg, and Becky was beaten so badly she couldn’t walk. And poor Marielle, they knocked all her teeth out.”

  Sara’s mind raced in a thousand directions. Her bindings constricted as she talked. Only now did the reality of her helplessness dawn on her. “Please help me. I won’t prostitute myself for them. I cannot. That is an impossible thought. Oh my word, how could this happen?” Panic nauseated her as she tugged and tugged at her bindings.

  “That’s where a lot of dollymops come from. Candie’s boss has a couple of guys who do the kidnapping for him. You’re stuck here. No one will help you now. I’m sorry for it. I doubt it will make you feel any better, but I understand. A month after they kidnapped me, I saw my pa on the street. I ran to him, I couldn’t help myself. Even though the goon I was with came after me, I still had to see my father. He turned away, I think because of what I was wearing. I shamed him. I know that. But it wasn’t my fault. They said my pa bet on the horses and he lost. I was his payment.” The fair-haired girl’s head dropped forward and she stared at her hands. “I know it is hard to accept, but once you step foot in this house, there isn’t no duke that’s gonna want you no more.”