Abigail Jones (Chronicles of Abigail Jones #1) by Grace Callaway Page B

unease, I did as I was told. 'Twas just the nerves of a first experience, I reassured myself. I had never been to a dressmaker's before. Aunt Agnes and I had sewn our own clothes or made over those abandoned by the ladies at the school. In fact, I had never undressed before anyone but my aunt and Ginny, my roommate. Then the image flashed into my mind's eye, of me untying my robe, of Hux over me, his hands against my bare skin—
    "Stockings, too," the proprietress said, as she gathered the tools of her trade. "What a charming blush you have, little dear. Such a piquant shade of pink. Do you appear so all over?"
    Unable to formulate a response to such a question, I stepped onto the platform. Its red covering welled lushly between my bare toes.
    "Come, come, Miss Jones. There are only us two here, and both of us women of the world. There's no need for false modesty."
    The woman in the reflection raised her chin. "'Tis not false, Mrs. Cunningham."
    "Ah, virtue as well as innocence. No wonder his lordship could not resist offering you a, ahem, position . Earl Huxton has always had the most exacting of tastes. Of all my clients, he has always provided the finest raw materials to work with."
    Raw materials? What did she mean? And why would Hux be a regular client of hers?
    As I mulled over the possibilities (all of them provocative), she slid behind me. I recoiled at the touch of her fingers at my nape. Thankfully, she undid the hooks with expert speed. She pulled off the dark garment, and I stood, arms hugged around my chest, trembling in my unmentionables. In the bright lamplight, there was no hiding the bedraggled state of my corset and thin, oft-mended petticoat.
    "Ah." In the looking glass, her eyes flashed with alien fire. My breath caught, and I twisted my head back to look at her. But there was only her knowing black gaze, the Roman nose, the too large mouth. She walked back and forth behind me, taking me in from all angles. "So now we see the assets you have been hiding beneath this bombazine abomination. But this is better than expected. Nice bosoms, very nice waist. Not much for hips, but nothing a bit of padding won't help. A French corset can see to that."
    "I don't need a French corset," I said firmly, "nor anything beyond a modest frock. I wish to be garbed as befitting my station."
    "Of course, dear, of course. 'Tis part of your charm, this plain demeanor which hides the passionate creature within." I tried not to squirm as her hands skimmed down my sides, as her lusty chuckle sounded near my ear. "Ah, but methinks the beast wants out of her cage. Let's take her dimensions, shall we?"
    She pulled at a loop of satin draped around her neck. It was the length of a measuring tape, but its width was unusual—at least five inches thick—as was its ruby color. There were no markings on it that I could see.
    I frowned. "What kind of measuring tape is that?"
    "Oh, one of my own invention," she said, smiling. "It has all sorts of useful functions. But first we'll have to remove your undergarments."
    "Remove my—" I swallowed as panic pulsed over my skin. "Surely that isn't necessary."
    "Why of course it is, little dove. We'll just—"
    There was a timid scratch on the door. It cracked open, and the clerk's voice filtered through. "Mrs. Cunningham?"
    "Damn it, Kitty. Haven't I told you never to interrupt when I'm with a client?"
    "Begging your pardon, Missus. But there's a bit of a ... problem. It requires your personal attention. Directly, if you please."
    In the reflection, I saw creases form around the dressmaker's mouth. No doubt in response to the urgency in Kitty's voice. "Hold tight a moment then, Miss Jones. I shall be right back."
    So saying, she draped the satin over my neck. I did not hear the rest of her words, nor witness her departure from the room. The world suddenly contracted into a dreaded prism of colors. The intensity pierced me, needles of painful heat and brightness. I did not move to rub my eyes, for