Chapter 7 #2
“Precisely,” he stated dryly. “Now sit.”
He expected her to stay standing out of stubbornness alone, but to his surprise, she crossed her arms and took the seat beside him.
“Whether you were right or not, I cannot abide you speaking to people so harshly. I loathe such behavior. If you want me to come back to London with you and fulfill our contract, you must behave.”
The way she said the word sent a strange jolt through Damien’s veins, and before he could help himself, he wound his finger around a loose tendril of her dark brown hair and rubbed the silky strands as he leaned closer to her.
“Are you so very sure you want me to?” he asked, letting his deep voice dip into a seductive tone. “You might very much like it the way I misbehave, dear Caroline.”
“Stop that, I said no touching,” Caroline snapped, slapping his hand away from her hair.
Even as she did so, though, fire burned in her veins at the way his voice had dropped into that sinfully seductive tone, and his devilish grin made his features even more handsome.
Her cheeks felt positively aflame as Damien leaned away from her with a look of annoying satisfaction, and they both turned their attention to Mrs. Parks as she returned with several bolts of surprisingly elegant fabric.
From the selection, Caroline chose a buttercream yellow chiffon and a purplish blue taffeta.
As much as she hated that he was right, Caroline did understand that there would be a need to once more don the more extravagant dresses the other noblewomen wore.
From the plainer fabrics, she chose a dove gray muslin, a navy blue, and a simple black.
As Mrs. Parks began to take her measurements, Damien once more brought up the prospect of purchasing the shop from Mrs. Parks and turning it into something else, and the poor woman went so pale that Caroline feared she would faint.
She waited until Mrs. Parks went to the back of the shop again, then she narrowed her eyes at Damien and said, “Stop that.”
Damien scoffed.
“Stop that,” he repeated, raising an amused brow. “Those seem to be your two favorite words.”
“Well, if you would stop being so insufferable, perhaps I would not have to repeat them so much,” Caroline testily replied.
“Oh, but I do it for you,” Damien retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Caroline tsked her tongue, her fear of him sliding away a little more.
Then his smirk faded, and he looked almost sincere as he leaned his elbow onto the arm of his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temples.
“I am just trying to show how easily most of your problems can go away when you have the fortune I am about to give you,” he stated.
“Is that what you are trying to do?” she countered. “Trying to buy your way into my heart? I will have you know that I shall not be bought by your displays of wealth.”
Damien’s amber gaze hardened as his lips settled into a grim line.
“Do be serious, Caroline. As if you would ever allow me anywhere near your heart.”
Caroline’s brows furrowed; she was not at all sure why what he had just said caused a bad taste to spread over her tongue.
Mrs. Parks returned a moment later, and as the two of them discussed the designs of the dresses, Damien made no further mention of buying the shop out from under her. To Caroline’s surprise, he even gave her enough money to hire two new seamstresses so the new order would be filled in time.
Mrs. Parks’ eyes lit with greed as she took the money, but then, in a rare show of kindness, she handed some of it to Caroline.
“I suppose I never told you, but you were a talented seamstress for me. One of the best I ever had. These are the wages I owe you. I wish you the happiest of marriages with your future husband, Miss Mason,” she said.
Stunned, Caroline was silent for a moment as she held the money in her hand.
“Thank you,” she managed to say.
Mrs. Parks curtsied toward her, surprising her even more. Then Damien took the money from Caroline’s hand and handed it back to Mrs. Parks.
“My wife will never have to worry about money again,” he stated, nodding for her to take the money back. “You can keep her wages.”
Though it was not kind, Caroline nodded her head.
“Yes,” she agreed. “Do keep it all, Mrs. Parks.”
Her employer, who had been so cold and cutting from the moment she had hired Caroline, looked as if she were about to cry as she accepted the money being handed back to her.
“You are truly a lady, Miss Mason,” she whispered hoarsely.
Caroline was not at all sure what to say to that or how to handle the woman’s rare show of emotion, so she simply said her goodbyes after Damien stated that they would be back in two days for the finished dresses.
Not sure what to do with her sudden and vast amount of free time, Caroline sighed and stilled for a moment as they made it back outside.
“What is it?” Damien asked.
Caroline shook her head.
“I suppose I just became accustomed to not having so much free time,” she explained. “I am not sure what to do with myself.”
She looked up at him, as if he had the answer.
“Shall we go back to the orphanage?” she asked.
“We could,” Damien agreed. “After we do a little more shopping. We will visit the milliner. I saw it as we were on our way here. And the cordwainer. As I said, you need a new wardrobe, and that goes beyond dresses.”
Then, to her surprise, he smirked.
“What?” she demanded.
“I just find it interesting that someone who ran away to be free did not actually get to have any free time,” he remarked.
Caroline rolled her eyes, her annoyance toward him firmly renewed. Without waiting for him, she headed down the street toward the milliner’s shop. Just like the modiste, the selection was more practical than fashion-oriented, and, of course, Damien grumbled about it.
“I do not need all these trimmings anyway,” she huffed, turning her back to him. “This arrangement is temporary, remember? Once you find out the truth of the boy’s parentage, I will be taking my leave.”
A wave of hot warmth spread over the nape of her neck, sending a prickling sensation throughout her entire body.
“Oh, little mouse,” Damien’s deep voice rumbled softly in her ear, sending another wave of heat throughout her bloodstream. “What makes you so sure you will even want to leave?”
Her cheeks hot, her blood thundering in her veins, Caroline forced her eyes open and turned around to face him.
“No touching,” she rasped out, meeting his amber eyes.
With a slow-forming smirk, Damien raised his hands to show he had obeyed her command.
Embarrassment flooded her as she realized she had reacted so strongly to just the feel of his breath.
She took a step back, her legs trembling and suddenly weak, and left the shop.
She did not need to turn around to know Damien was right behind her, probably still smirking about her reaction to him.