Page 20 of It's All About the Duke
On impulse, Rath opened the door to Miss Lola’s Lacy Linens and Finer Things, surprised that with all his experiences he hadn’t entered the den of frippery before. He strode inside with his usual confident step, taking off his hat as he entered. He was immediately assailed with intimate recollections from his ne’er-do-well past. The fragrances of prior conquests and mistresses assailed him at once, and momentarily he thought he’d entered into a hornet’s nest of spurned lovers gathered to welcome him back into their arms.
His initial response was short-lived as he began to mentally sort the perfumes scenting the air and realized they were all illusion and not actual women.
The heady scents of warm honey, earthy minerals, summer vines, and sweet trumpet flowers seemed to explode throughout the room. There were too many differentfragrances contained within these walls to distinguish them all, but he did briefly reflect on his past, with an almost visible wince of regret.
Moving forward, he didn’t really know what he’d expected when he entered, but it hadn’t been the explicit displays of provocative stays, silk stockings, sheer shifts, and enough lace to fill the cargo hull of a merchant’s ship. Clearly everything inside was made for the precise purpose of setting a man’s heart to beating faster and feeding his primal appetite for the fairer sex.
The shop, while not small, was overpowered by all the frills. Ornate handheld mirrors and silver hairbrushes, jeweled combs, and fancy gossamer gloves all graced chairs, tables, desks, and paintings that hung on the walls. Scattered among them were lace and beads woven in between the delicate items. Low-burning lamps added a soft golden glow to the room.
Obviously everything was meant to enhance and entice a lady’s desire to please a man.
Rath had never seen so many feminine trappings under one roof and grew more intrigued by the second.
Thank you, Miss Fast, for the unknowing nudge.
He allowed his thoughts to stray… envisioning her ivory skin wrapped in nothing but a lace garland and shimmering pearls. Her glossy hair cascading across her shoulders and touching her waist where its slender nip beckoned his kiss.
“May I help you, sir?” A woman’s voice stopped his fantasy cold, although the evidence of such in his breeches didn’t immediately catch up.
Damnation.
He quickly shifted the hold on his hat to a more advantageous placing. Turning, he saw an older, attractive woman walking toward him. She could have been wearing her shop. Her dress was the color of lilacs and hadwhat seemed to be mountains of lace around the neckline and at the cuffs of her sleeves.
“Miss Lola, I presume.” His greeting held warmth and regard. An enterprising woman was one he held in esteem.
“You presume correctly, sir.”
“Rath. Duke of Rathburne.”
“My correction, Your Grace,” she said with a curtsy. Her smile was easy. Genuine. “We don’t get many gentlemen in the shop. Titled or not.”
He liked her instantly and gave a half snort, half laugh. Rather than prolong the moment, he questioned, “Do you carry smelling salts or must I find them in the apothecary?”
“If you’ll forgive me, Your Grace, you don’t look the fainthearted type. But I won’t ask questions, and yes, I do indeed sell spirits to revive an attack of vapors.”
Rath liked the woman’s attitude, too. That she was industrious and wasn’t going to let even a surprising customer walk out the door without putting in a good effort to make a sale was commendable. He didn’t know much about smelling salts and sachets. Most of the women he knew weren’t likely to faint at hearing his name or anything else.
He followed her to the back of the shop and caught a whiff of wildflowers as he passed an open drawer. He thought of Miss Fast again. He imagined her running through a field of tall yellow and blue blossoms, letting her fingers float along the tops of the blooms while her golden-red hair bounced on the back of her shoulders. A much more appropriate thought than his first but just as intoxicating and real.
The shopkeeper stopped in front of a long, cluttered chest where small bottles were placed among dainty satin balls, squares, and triangles all stuffed like little pillowswith ribbons sewn on them so they could be hung around the wrist. That would be convenient for Miss Fast’s frail friend. And no surprise to him, they were all neatly nestled among a cutting of sheer cloth, lace, and beads.
“Anything on this table would be appropriate for what you have in mind,” she said, waving her hand from one end to the other. “They are guaranteed to rouse the deepest of fainters or to calm the slightest feeling of the vapors without causing a headache.”
Miss Lola picked up a light-blue bottle with a fancy pewter top and opened it. She offered it for him to sniff, but Rath held up his hand and backed away. Even at a distance there was no doubt the vial had a strong scent of ammonia.
“Enough.” He leaned away. “That would rouse a bear from hibernation in the middle of winter.” He didn’t know of a flower, fruit, or wood that could hide that scent or make it more pleasant to the nose.
“It does do what’s needed in precarious situations,” she assured him.
“Give me three of the bottles and three of the wrist pillows, too. I have a feeling this young lady seems to find herself inprecarious situationsmore often than not.”
“Very good, Your Grace. Can I tempt you to purchase one bottle of fragrance? Straight from the perfumeries in France. You know a lady can never have too much perfume.”
Marlena came easily to Rath’s mind yet again. He remembered her walking up to him, the wide-brimmed hat framing her lovely face, the perfectly tied bow under her chin, and the warm smile she gave him. Later, when she’d walked past him, he’d caught the scent of fresh-cut herbs, the earth, fresh air—a wholesome life. She wouldn’t be one to wear perfume of any fragrance. Though for a moment, the thought of her using a liberal dose of rose waterbefore going into the garden made him smile. There wouldn’t be imaginary bees, wasps, and ladybugs dancing around her cheeks if she did that. They’d be real insects wanting to light on her.
“No perfume,” he said.
“I understand. It’s not for everyone. I’ll take care of these for you at the counter.” She picked up two of the bottles and two sachets. “I’ll come back for the others.”
