Lessons in Pleasure

Lessons in Pleasure Read Free Page B

Book: Lessons in Pleasure Read Free
Author: Victoria Dahl
Tags: Romance, Historical Romance
Ads: Link
door as if she’d like to be off to see to other duties.
    “Well, then,” Sarah chirped. “I am running a few errands today, and I should like to steal one of the maids away. Could you spare Betsy, do you think?”
    “Betsy? Which Betsy, ma’am? There are two.”
    Sarah blinked. Two? Lord, she thought she had planned so well. One of those Betsys couldn’t read even the simplest words. Sarah knew this because she’d heard the girl explain to Mrs. Baylor why she couldn’t fetch a certain spice from the larder one evening when Sarah had been trying to teach them the recipe for her grandmother’s spiced cakes. Sarah needed that girl.
    She cleared her throat. “The, um, the Betsy with the curly brown hair that sneaks from her cap?”
    “Aye, I’ve spoken to her about that, ma’am. I’ll—”
    “The hair is fine. Only can you spare her?”
    “Of course.”
    Sarah nodded and smiled past her pounding heart. “Wonderful. I shall be ready in half an hour. Please notify the footman that I will require a hack.”
    The moment Mrs. Baylor quit the room, Sarah rushed to the writing table and drew a piece of paper from the drawer. After staring at the blank page for at least ten minutes, she took the pen into one shaking hand and scratched out three lines. She did not sign it, only dried it carefully and folded it into a tight, neat square.
    The rest of her preparations took no time at all, and before the half hour was up, she and Betsy were in the coach and on their way.
    The shop was less than a mile from the house, but Sarah rarely patronized it. The owner was her least favorite of the nearby book merchants, he being more interested in science and politics than “those dreadful novels,” as he called them. An arrogant bore in Sarah’s opinion, but he might prove useful today.
    As soon as the hack creaked to a halt before the store, Sarah pressed the note into Betsy’s hand, along with a generous fistful of coins. A few simple instructions later, and she was alone in the coach, still rocking from Betsy’s jarring descent.
    She stared at the opposite cushion, hands clenched tight together, and waited. Minutes dragged by. She thought about James. Wondered if he was thinking about her. Perhaps the night had meant nothing to him. Perhaps it had been like any other. Nodding to reassure herself, Sarah took a look at the door of the shop.
    Nothing.
    Had the bookseller grown suspicious? Was he even now questioning the maid? Surely he couldn’t object to the request.
    Please remand, to the bearer of this note, three or four of your most popular texts on the subject of female health and marital relations.
    Could he know it was from a woman? Would he report her to her husband?
    A flutter of panic was just beginning to rise in her throat when the door to the shop flew inward. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, Sarah held her breath until a familiar skirt appeared above the threshold.
    Betsy stepped out, mouth set in a serious line as befit a kitchen maid elevated to a temporarily important status. She didn’t look scandalized or titillated, only determined. When she saw Sarah watching, she broke into a smile, then remembered herself and smothered it.
    “’E drove a hard bargain, ma’am, but I got him down to four quid!” She was proud of herself, regardless that she had no idea how much her package should have cost, but Sarah thought four quid a good bargain and told her so.
    The maid kept the paper-wrapped bundle close as she alighted, and though Sarah wanted to snatch it from her, there could be no reasonable excuse to do so. Still, she stared anxiously at the brown paper as Betsy settled it on her lap and wrapped her chapped fingers around the string.
    Sarah’s answer might be inside that brown paper, just inches from her hands. Had last night been a fit? A sign that her mother’s tainted blood had been passed to her? If so, she would have to tell James a truth too horrible to consider . . . that she might pass on the

Similar Books

The Flood-Tide

Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Counting on Starlight

Lynette Sowell

Forever Yours

Marci Boudreaux

A Land to Call Home

Lauraine Snelling

Dance of Seduction

Elle Kennedy

Christmas Haven

Hope White