Reforming the Duke

by Keira Montclair

  Before he started up the stairs, he turned to his mother. “My apologies for being short with you, Mother, but Lady Downey is a widow not a young girl. Our staff will watch their tongues or lose their positions, as you know. It would be here or Ardleigh’s place, and I would prefer to keep an eye on her myself. Please send a message to the bishop and see that the banns for our marriage are called on Sunday. Contact my solicitor and tell him I need a license. I will not wait long to make Lady Downey my wife.”

  ***

  Sara was still stunned from all the events that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours, but she could hardly tear her gaze from Philip as he gingerly set her in a soft chair in the dressing room. He was so careful and loving. Was this the same man she had yelled at in his townhouse? His eyes were so warm and full of love.

  She massaged her legs to relieve the prickling feeling in her skin. Rubbing seemed to help, plus she wiggled and moved as much as she could. She hoped there had been no permanent damage.

  Propping her arm, Philip knelt in front of her to plump pillows under her feet. When he finished, he stopped and gazed into her eyes.

  “Forgive me for not doing this properly. Sara Downey, I love you with all my heart and I need you by my side forever. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  She blinked back hot tears. Had he really just proposed to her? She’d heard him mention marriage before, to the others, but she’d decided she must have been delirious. Was this really happening?

  Realizing he was awaiting her response, she nodded her head slowly. “Yes, Philip, nothing would make me happier than to be your wife.”

  Sara reached for him with her one arm, and his lips settled on hers in a possessive kiss.

  He pulled back and caressed her cheek. “When you were missing, I was so possessed with purpose. I have never had such a fright.”

  Eli and Charles arrived with buckets of hot water and dumped them into the large tub. Celia walked in and set down the tea tray she’d prepared.

  “I will locate towels, Your Grace.” She left briefly and returned with the towels and a robe. The men had already made another two trips with additional buckets of water. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  “Thank you, Celia. Make sure that my mother has sent for the physician. Close the door on the way out and don’t let anyone else disturb us.”

  As soon as the door closed behind the maid, Philip began undressing Sara, gently, slowly, careful not to cause further pain.

  Her entire body blushed. “Philip, please. I am so dirty. I am sure the maid can help me. You needn’t bother with me.” She bowed her head in shame. This was not how she’d like him to see her.

  “Bother? How can you say such a thing? You have been kidnapped, beaten, abused, and misused. Do you think I care about a little dirt? Please do not insult me, Sara.”

  He helped her into the steaming water. “Too hot, my love?”

  She shook her head. “No, it feels wonderful.” She eased her shoulders back to lean against the back of the tub and sighed deeply.

  Philip soaped her feet and legs and then massaged her muscles slowly. He worked his way from each calf to her knees, kneading along the way. “Is this helping?”

  “Yes, they are loosening up. You have a magic touch, Philip.” She smiled at him. Then he touched her injured arm and she cringed. “That still hurts. Please be careful.”

  He helped wash and rinse her hair and then dried her off. Wrapping the thick white robe around her, he lifted her and set her on his lap.

  “Do you want to tell me about everything?” he whispered, holding her close.

  Slowly, Sara told him all that had happened. How she had been struck in the head, tied up in a cart, tied to three bedposts, sold to a dandy, and finally shoved into a trunk. She told him about Alyssa and Candie and about the horrid man who had licked her face. The tears didn’t erupt until nearly the end of the story, but when they did, they consumed her. She cried until sobs wracked her body and the only thing left was hiccups. Philip held her through it, running slow strokes across her back or kissing her brow.

  When she finished, neither of them spoke for several minutes.

  She pulled back and looked up at him. “Philip, where is Stinky now?”

  “He’s dead, sweet, and he will never bother you again. He ran in front of two horses and startled them. One horse broke his neck.”

  “Are you sure?” She swiped the remaining tears from her eyes.

  “Yes. Graham and Ardleigh both witnessed it up close. If you wish, you can ask them yourself later.”

  A knock interrupted them. His mother announced the physician and waited for Philip to arrange Sara in bed before granting him entrance. Philip set Sara on her feet and held her to see if she could support her weight.

  “Can you walk?” He held her hand as she balanced herself.

  She took a step and glanced up at him. “I think so, it feels much better. Thank you.” She couldn’t stop herself from reaching up and caressing Philip’s cheek. His blue eyes caught hers as she smiled.

  “I do love you so, Philip.”

  ***

  She awoke in the middle of the night to her own screaming. Sitting up in bed, memories washed back through her, tormenting her, until she recalled that she was in the safety of Philip’s manor. As promised, he had held her until she’d fallen asleep. He had then left her to return to his own bed, apparently.

  She vaguely remembered something he’d whispered to her in the night. He’d said he didn’t think it would be proper to stay with her, given his mother was down the hall, or had he used that as a reason to move to his own bed?

  Perhaps he’d only proposed because she was so vulnerable. Now that the tragedy was over, had he realized he did not love her as he’d thought? After all, what could Philip see in her? She didn’t have a dowry or any land to offer him. It certainly couldn’t be her skills in the bedroom. Miranda Montrose surely knew more than she did. And Duncan had always told her she was timid and boring and lackluster.

  Philip appeared in the doorway between their rooms. She hoped he wouldn’t notice her tear-stained lashes. It was a wonder the poor man hadn’t drowned in all the tears she had shed after her bath. She would not cry again. Men did not care for tears.

  But despite all her doubts and self-recrimination, she longed to be in his arms again. She wanted Philip next to her—every night. No better place on earth existed for her than in his arms.

  “Is everything all right, Sara? I thought I heard you.”

  “Just a nightmare. Thank you, I’m fine.” She pulled up her blanket. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

  Her husband-to-be stood there in his navy blue robe. His hair was tousled and it made him look even more handsome. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the curly dark hair on his chest, remembering how the hairs felt in her fingers and against her nipples. She tried to recall exactly how it thinned around his waist and met up with the darker mat around his…

  “Sara?”

  “Yes?” She jerked her eyes back up to his face.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course, I am fine.”

  He said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. We haven’t discussed your business at all.”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. Surely he would tell her she would have to close the shop. She’d expected as much, but it would hurt to leave it behind. She loved designing.

  “I know this will shock many people,” he said, looking into her eyes, “but I know your work is important to you. You’re talented, and I would like to see you continue your designs. Will you agree to hire a few seamstresses to sew the gowns so that you’ll have some time for your husband?”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. She’d never thought it possible that she might get to have both Philip and the shop. “I would love to handle it that way. I could use the help, for certain. Thank you, Philip.”

  He turned to make his way back to bed.

  “Phi
lip?” Her hand reached out as if to touch him.

  “Yes?” He stuck his head back in the door.

  “Are you sure?” Her voice wavered as she spoke, but she didn’t look away from him.

  “Am I sure about what?

  She cleared her throat as if to gain the courage to speak her thoughts. “Are you sure about us?”

  He stepped into the room and leaned his tall, muscular frame against the doorway. His arms crossed in front of him as a slow smile crept across his face.

  “You mean, am I sure that I love you?” His arms dropped to his sides as he sauntered her way. “Or am I sure that I want to marry you?”

  She watched him, spellbound, as he continued to stroll toward her.

  “Or am I sure that I want you more than anything right now?”

  She swallowed as she noticed his arousal beginning to separate his robe. She forced her gaze back to his face.

  “Yes.” She could feel her blush make its way from her face to her breasts and finally settle as a wash of heat between her thighs.

  “Which one are you saying yes to, sweet?” He sat on the side of the bed and set his arms on either side of her before he leaned in to taste her lips.

  She stared up at him. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind? You know I have no dowry or land. You know I am not as exciting as some of the other women in the ton, or as interesting, or as beautiful…” She looked down at her hands.

  Philip reached for her chin and lifted it gently until their eyes met. She tried to hide her insecurities but failed miserably. The coverlet fisted even tighter in her hand as she tugged it up to hide herself from him.

  “No, sweet, please do not hide from me. You are much too beautiful.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Beautiful? Did he really think she was beautiful?

  “Ah, I see you don’t believe me. I shall have to convince you then, shan’t I?” His eyes sparkled.

  Tugging on the coverlet, he removed it before removing her gown.

  He kissed her deeply on the mouth. When he pulled back, he said, “I see there are a few things I need to tell you. Will you lie back and listen to me, Sara?”

  She nodded as she did as he asked, settling back into the soft mattress.

  “I think, perhaps, I need to tell you exactly why I love you. You had a bastard of a first husband who put some very wrong ideas in your mind. I intend to set them straight.”

  He started at her feet, kissing her ankle and slowly dusting kisses up the outside of her leg as he talked. “The first time I saw you, your beauty almost left me speechless. All I could imagine were these long legs wrapped around me in ecstasy. What beautiful legs you are gifted with.” He kissed up the outside of her other leg. “Your green eyes enchanted me. You made clothes for the orphans, you impressed my mother, and mind you, that is not an easy thing to do.” His tongue made its way across the middle of her belly, stopping briefly to circle her navel. She closed her eyes in blissful surrender to his sweet torture. She grabbed a handful of his hair.

  “Oh, not yet, love, I am far from finished,” he said as he pulled her hand away from him. “You are the only woman I know who would turn down a handful of gems because her morality wouldn’t allow her to keep them.”

  He made his way across her belly and up to her nipple. “You have the most perfect breasts I have ever had the pleasure to behold.” He suckled her deeply until she cried out.

  “You stand in the middle of the ton like a goddess with her head held high, no matter what they are saying about you.” He stroked his tongue up between the valley of her breasts all the way to her collarbone and nibbled.

  “You have the stamina and strength of the strongest man I have ever met.” He kissed a trail up her neck. “Had you not rocked that trunk, I may never have found you. You are a fighter to the bitter end.” Kissing her tenderly on the mouth, he whispered, “You bear pain as if it is nothing.”

  Kissing her forehead with both hands cupping her cheeks, he added, “You have the intelligence to run your own business, one profitable enough you were able to pay off most of your husband’s debts.”

  He straightened up on his knees and tossed his robe aside. Sara stared at his naked beauty. His arousal caused her mouth to go dry instantly, but he wasn’t finished yet.

  Suckling her other breast, he said, “You were in extreme pain after I pulled you out of that trunk, yet the foremost thought in your mind was the slight girl from the brothel who helped you.”

  He leaned down and started on the inside of her leg, kissing his way up to her damp curls. “But what I love most about you is how you react to my touches, and how I can make you writhe beneath me.” His tongue found her nub and he tasted her heat. Her moans of ecstasy brought him back up to her lips to capture her sounds of joy. He pulled himself up to balance his weight on his elbows, then settled between her thighs and teased her slick entrance with his tip.

  “Now do you believe that I love you, Sara?”

  “Yes, Philip. Please, I need you inside me. I want you now.” Spreading her thighs for him, she arched toward him, needing his fullness inside her. She blushed at her wantonness but didn’t stop. Reaching for him, she teased herself with his member until she could no longer hang onto him.

  “Oh, Philip!” she cried as he entered her.

  “And I so love how you call out my name.” He smiled at her.

  ***

  Philip lost complete control. He took one look at the passion in her eyes and grabbed her hips so he could bury himself deeper inside her.

  “Am I hurting you, love?” he ground out between thrusts.

  “No,” she whispered. “I love how you feel inside me.”

  “Good, because there is no way in hell could I stop. You have no idea how good you feel.”

  He could tell he was about to explode, so he reached down between them and caressed her nub until he could feel her contractions around him. He swallowed her scream with a kiss and did his best to dull his own roar as they climaxed together.

  He held himself on his elbows, cradling Sara’s face in his hands. “I love you, Sara Downey, for who you are, and don’t ever doubt it. I don’t care about land or money. I want my wife to be intelligent, caring, compassionate, and passionate. You are all of those things, and I wish I could erase all the uncertainties caused by your foolish first husband. But you never have reason to doubt my love. I love you, I respect you, and I need you. Please be my wife.”

  “Oh, Philip! You make me so happy. I cannot think of anywhere I would rather be than in your arms.”

  He kissed her and rolled onto his side. “How can I help you get comfortable? I am not going back to my bed. I cannot be without you.”

  Sara squeezed in close to him and put her head on his shoulder. “I want to sleep here…every night.”

  She was asleep in seconds.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Three weeks later

  Sara strolled into Phoebe’s morning room for breakfast. The wedding was not for another two weeks, and the dowager duchess had argued that it would be improper if Philip and Sara were to live together before then. Knowing the power of gossip, Sara had reluctantly agreed. She faced an uphill battle with the ton anyway, especially since many of the ladies were jealous of her for having “ensnared” the duke.

  But despite their current living situation, they spent as much time together as possible. Philip had settled many of her fears. She knew he treasured her, and the way he looked at her—as if he wanted her nude instantly—made her feel beautiful. The mere thought of that look made her blush.

  Her only disappointment was that she had been unable to find the beads to match her mother’s bag. She would carry it on her wedding day anyway since it was so special to her, but the pattern was incomplete. The duchess and Phoebe had finally convinced her no one would notice.

  “Good morning, Phoebe.” Sara smiled at her friend as she filled her plate. She had woken up to find out she had her monthly courses, and it
was as good a reason as any to eat heartily. Thankfully, she would not have them on her wedding night.

  “Good morning, Sara. You look stunning today, as always.” Phoebe glanced at her as she sat down. “What are your plans for today?”

  “I need to go to my shop and see how things are progressing. Alyssa is magical with her needle and thread. I cannot believe how fast she is. With her friend helping as well, I think we will be caught up in no time. Having a man in the shop to take care of the counter makes me feel better about her safety.”

  “It was very kind of you to hire Alyssa.” Phoebe tossed a bit of sugar into her tea.

  “She’s a lovely girl. If not for her, I could be on a ship bound for some island with a very cruel man.” Sara shivered at the thought.

  “That’s all in the past, thankfully. How does your arm fare?”

  “Everything is working well. All the feeling has returned. It does tingle occasionally, but I still don’t dare lift with it.”

  Phoebe’s butler walked in and bowed to the ladies. “Pardon me, Lady Downey,” he said, handing her a card, “but Her Grace is calling and has brought a friend to visit.”

  “Of course, show them in.” Phoebe waved toward the doorway.

  Mary St. James entered the room, followed by a beautiful woman with brown hair and green eyes. She was tall and majestic looking, clad in a quite stylish outfit. Each of the women carried a package. The dowager’s was small, but the other woman’s package was long and narrow.

  Once Phoebe and Sara moved to the settee along with their visitors, the dowager duchess folded her hands in her lap and turned to Sara.

  “I am sure you recall I found your reticule in your shop after you were kidnapped. When I examined it, I noticed your mother’s initials were sewn inside the lining of the bag. I thought I knew someone with those initials, but I just could not place them at the time.”

  Sara’s heart fluttered as she listened to the dowager. Her palms grew moist and she risked a curious glance at the other woman. Had this woman known her mother?