Once Upon A Kiss...

Five

Her heart pounded with trepidation as she approached Sinclair. He’d been gone for much of the past week, out sailing, fishing or playing tennis. She might suspect he was trying to avoid someone, if she didn’t already know that was true.

But she couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

I’m crazy about you

.

No, she wasn’t going to say that, though the thought almost drove a manic laugh to her lips. She drew in a deep breath as she opened the door to the sitting room. “Sinclair?”

He was reading alone, in front of the big, carved fireplace. No fire burned, since it was downright hot and the house, being ancient, had no air-conditioning. He looked up from his newspaper. “Hello, Annie.”

Her insides melted. Why did he always greet her by name? Did he know that it half killed her to hear her name—boring as it was—fall from his mouth in that deep, warm tone? It would be so much better if he just uttered a curt “What?”

“Um.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ears. Then glanced behind her. She didn’t want anyone to overhear what she was about to say. “It’s about Vicki. Do you mind if I close the door?”

He frowned slightly, and curiosity appeared in his eyes. “This sounds mysterious.” He glanced at the door. She took that as an invitation and quickly shut it.

“She’s been up in the attic with your mom and me, looking through all the old stuff.” She paused, wondering how to say this next part.

“I know. That’s why she’s here, ostensibly.” He leaned toward her slightly, and she felt the increased closeness almost like a hug. Which was ridiculous, since she was still several feet away.

“It probably isn’t my place to say anything, but I couldn’t keep quiet because I know the house and everything in it is important to you.”

He regarded her with no expression. Probably thought she was nuts. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t say anything. In some ways it was none of her business. On the other hand she was the housekeeper, which, taken literally, could mean she was responsible for keeping the house from being looted. “Vicki’s been taking detailed notes on a lot of the items in the attic, and I’ve seen her researching them on her laptop.”

“She’s an antique dealer.”

“I know. I’ve also seen her looking at auctions on eBay. I think she might be planning to sell some of the items.”

“Perhaps my mom has asked her to. There’s way too much junk up there.”

She shook her head. “I heard her bring the idea up, and your mom said we should put everything back where we found it, to save it for your children.” She didn’t mention her own part in helping Katherine to that decision.

“Typical.” He shook his head. “Why does everyone have to have children? Would it be such a tragedy if this branch of the Drummonds died out with me? Put it all on eBay. That’s what I say.” A wry smile played about his lips. “But I do appreciate you worrying about the fate of our old junk. It’s very thoughtful.”

Was he making fun of her? He certainly didn’t seem to care whether Vicki took everything home in her suitcase. Maybe he really didn’t want children and everything in the house would end up at an auctioneer one day. “You should have children.”

She gasped when she heard her own words on the air. Sinclair sat up slightly in his chair, startled. “I can see you feel strongly about it. May I ask why?” Humor glittered in the depths of his eyes.

She wished she could melt into the Persian carpet.

Because you’d be a great father. Strict, but kind. Because children would bring out the child buried inside you

. “I don’t know. It would be a waste, that’s all. And your mom would be very disappointed.”

“She’ll survive. I don’t live my life to please other people.”

“Don’t you want children?” Why did she keep digging herself further into this hole? Sheer burning curiosity drove her to ask.

“I used to, once.” He looked up at the window. Then his brow furrowed. “But I don’t intend to be a single father and apparently there isn’t a woman alive who can put up with me.”

“That’s not true.” Her heart squeezed. Did he really feel so totally unlovable? “You just haven’t met the right person yet.” The light played in his dark hair and across his bold cheekbones. If only she could tell him that he had met the right person and she was standing here in front of him.

But he’d told her to forget their magical afternoon ever happened. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d lost control for a short while, and now that his sanity was back he wanted nothing from her. Well, other than freshly laundered sheets and homemade dinners.

His brow had furrowed slightly and an odd expression played across his sensual mouth. “Maybe you’re right.” He looked away sharply. “I don’t know.”

Tension thickened in the air. Her fault. She’d come in here and started this far-too-personal conversation after accusing one of his old friends of fraud. She’d be lucky if they didn’t fire her. “I’d better go make dinner.”

“Yes, you’d better.” That glint of amusement twinkled in his eyes again. “Before you make any more rash and unsettling statements.”

Something hovered between them. Unspoken words. Feelings that weren’t supposed to be felt. At least she felt them. Maybe he just wished she’d leave him in peace.

She turned and hurried for the door before she could make things worse.

During dinner, conversation turned to an upcoming dance to be held by a music mogul celebrating his twentieth wedding anniversary.

“We ran into his wife, Jess, at the nursery today.” Katherine almost shone with excitement. “She was looking at floral arrangements for the centerpieces. Apparently everyone up this end of Long Island is invited, and when I told her Vicki was staying she insisted that she come with Sinclair. Oh, it will be sensational. I wish I was feeling strong enough to come. I remember the party they gave to celebrate their son’s graduation—an entire Russian ballet company performed and there were a hundred black swans swimming on that big lake behind their conservatory. Vicki will need something

fabulous

 to wear.”

Annie disappeared back into the kitchen, carrying the dishes from the main course of swordfish steaks with spinach sautéed in sesame oil. She did feel a little like Cinderella right now. Everyone would be going to the ball, and it wouldn’t even cross their minds that she might be sad about not being invited.

She returned with freshly made peach pie and a jug of thick cream.

“We’ll have to go into the city. A trip to Madison Avenue is definitely in order.” Katherine looked like she was ready to leap out of her chair and hail a cab right now.

“I’m not so sure.” Vicki looked oddly hesitant. “I probably have something I can wear.”

“But darling, this is the perfect occasion for a big splurge. I saw this amazing purple dress at Fendi when I was in visiting my doctor. It would look so striking with your complexion.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sinclair, are you going to buy yourself a shiny new dinner jacket?”

“God, no.” Katherine spoke for him. “He’d wear antiques from his father’s closet if I let him. I’ll make sure he looks presentable.” She flashed him an indulgent smile, which he ignored.

“You’ve given me an idea.” Vicki paused, cream jug in her hand. “Well, maybe it’s crazy.”

“What?” Katherine leaned forward.

“Those dresses you found up in the attic, before I arrived. Maybe I could wear one of those.”

Annie froze in the doorway where she stood with a tray of brandy snaps. Her heart crumpled at the thought of Vicki swanning through the house wearing that peacock-blue dress that had totally deprived Sinclair of his sanity.

“What a marvelous idea. If they don’t fit we could always get one altered. But you’re so slim you could wear anything and look good. They’re all hanging in the spare bedroom downstairs, for reasons beyond my comprehension. There’s a blue one in there that’s stunning. It looks like Thai silk, with a glorious shimmer.”

Annie glanced at Sinclair, who picked up his wineglass and took a gulp of the white wine.

She slunk back into the kitchen. This must be some kind of lesson in humility. Now she’d have to see Vicki wearing the dress to a party the way its maker must have intended. Her donning it, even for a few minutes, was a foolish mistake that continued to have humiliating repercussions.

“Let’s go look at them now, before dessert.” Katherine rose from her chair. “It’ll be fun. Annie, do come with us. You can help us move them somewhere more sensible.”

She wanted to make some excuse about needing to decant the ice cream but her brain wasn’t fast enough. “Okay.” She followed mutely as they walked down the hallway to the spare bedroom with its big walnut wardrobe.

“What a lovely shade of lavender.” Katherine pulled a hanger from the rack. A pale, almost snowy, lavender dress billowed on the hanger. The wrinkles from years of packing seemed to have fallen out of it, leaving it ready to wear. Delicate black beading around the neckline and sleeves added a touch of drama. “Who were these made for, I wonder? The quality is so exquisite.”

Sinclair stood in the doorway, almost filling the frame. His dark blue polo shirt stretched across his broad chest as he leaned against the doorjamb. He looked indulgently at his mother. “Probably someone who died before she had a chance to wear them. It was a different world back then. People died almost overnight from things that barely warrant a doctor’s visit today.”

Annie was touched by how much he obviously cared about his mom. He’d all but abandoned his work and thrown himself into keeping her happy and entertained since her illness began. If she didn’t already admire Sinclair, she would now.

“You’re so right. Still, it might be interesting to find out. I wonder if she was a Drummond by birth, or someone who married into the family.” She pulled out a gray-green dress with a dramatic dark red trim. “It was obviously someone rather fashionable.”

“I’ve done some research, actually.” Vicki moved forward. “The trunk the dresses were stored in had the maker’s name on it, from Lyme, Connecticut.”

Annie snuck a glance at Sinclair while everyone listened to Vicki. His eyes looked slightly shadowed, tired—or haunted. How she’d love to get him to relax for a while. He never seemed to be able to relax when there were other people in the house. He was quite a different person on the rare weekends he came out here by himself.

When it was just him and her.

Though of course he didn’t think of it like that. He probably thought of it as being there alone, since she served a similar function as the anonymous mailman, or the gardener who pruned the bushes and trimmed the lawn.

“Ran away with the groom! You’re joking.” Katherine’s shriek dragged Annie back to the present. “I didn’t think anyone did that outside of mournful ballads. I bet she lived to regret it.”

“Well.” Vicki rearranged her artfully casual bun. “The man she was supposed to marry, Temperance Drummond, tried to have the groom arrested for theft.”

“Of his fiancée?” Sinclair raised a brow.

“Of his horse and cart. The groom was part of her personal staff from Connecticut, but he absconded with the master’s soon-to-be lady in the Drummonds’ carriage.”

“Did they find her?” Katherine looked fascinated.

“Nope. At least there’s no record of it that I could find. They disappeared into thin air in 1863 and were never seen again. Or at least not around here.” She turned to Sinclair with a raised brow. “What do you think happened to them? Did they travel out west, join a wagon train and get rich in the gold rush in California?”

“Who knows? Maybe they did.” Sinclair looked thoughtful. “Though I doubt it.”

“What about you, Annie? Do you think they enjoyed decades of happy marriage?”

She shrugged. Vicki’s attention was always uncomfortable. She was too much of a loose cannon.

“Do you think people from different social circles can live happily ever after?”

Annie shrank. Worse yet, her gaze darted involuntarily toward Sinclair, and met his. A jolt of energy shocked her. She groped for a response in the hope that no one would see how flustered she was. “I don’t see why not. If they have the right things in common.”

“I’m not so sure.” Sinclair’s mother fingered the black trim on the lavender dress. “I think one tends to have more shared interests with someone from one’s own circles. Sinclair’s father has been gone a long time and I’ve never had the slightest interest in dating the gardener.” She laughed as if the very idea was comical. Which it was. The gardener was a taut and muscular woman of about twenty-five. “Though I do admire her abs when she wears those cutoff tops.”

They all laughed. Annie was glad that the moment of tension had been defused. “They’re lovely dresses. It’s a shame she didn’t take them with her.”

“I know. Odd, really. They were part of her trousseau. It was all up there in the attic, packed for her honeymoon. They were going to be married three days later. I found the whole story online in the transcribed memoir of the old biddy who lived next door.” Vicki turned to Sinclair. “You should read it. She has a lot to say about your ancestors. Temperance married five times and his wives kept disappearing.”

Katherine shuddered slightly. “The curse. Or whatever it is. The Drummonds can never find happiness. But we’re going to change all that, so Sinclair can find happiness.” She beamed a smile at him.

Sinclair grimaced, now resting his elbows above his head on either side of the door frame, which provided an eye-popping view of his powerful muscles against the sleeves of his shirt. Annie dragged her tormented gaze in the other direction.

“I’ll make sure he finds happiness at the dance, at least.” Vicki fingered another dress, a frothy pink taffeta with seed pearls encrusting the bodice. “I won’t try these on now, though. Another time. I’m pretty sure at least one will fit fine with no alteration.”

“Let’s go have coffee,” said Sinclair gruffly.

Annie was glad to get away from the spectacle of Vicki handling the dresses. She shouldn’t think of them as

her

 dresses, because they weren’t, but she’d felt proprietary about them ever since she’d tried that one on and been so entranced by it. It was even less encouraging to learn they’d belonged to some long-ago woman whose life had gone off the rails. How likely was a woman to find happiness by running away in a stolen carriage?

She’d never find out. She wasn’t nearly daring enough for that kind of high-risk endeavor. That’s why she’d be watching other people’s exploits over the rim of her teacup rather than living on the edge.

“You’re going to that party, Annie.” Vicki’s whisper sliced into her ear as the taller woman slid past her in the hallway.

“What?” Annie froze. But Vicki had already disappeared into the living room with Katherine and was talking about something else.

Six

“But I can’t.” Annie faced Katherine and Vicki over the pile of fresh peas she’d been shelling for Katherine’s dinner. It was 5:00 p.m. and Vicki should have been getting dressed for the dance.

“Let me guess, you have nothing to wear.” Vicki crossed her arms over her chest.

“Not just that. I’m not invited, and I don’t …” She hesitated, not really wanting to say it out loud.

“Don’t belong there?” asked Katherine, with perfect accuracy. “Nonsense. It’s a party, and it’s huge. Over five hundred people. Sinclair can’t go alone because it’s a couples theme and they have all these silly activities planned.”

Annie’s eyes widened. Romantic activities? Was Sinclair’s mom actually trying to set her up with him?

“Of course you and Sinclair won’t do anything romantic.” She laughed at such an outlandish idea. Well, that answered one question. “But I’m sure you’ll have a good time. I know he’ll refuse to go if he isn’t required to escort anyone, and why shouldn’t Cinderella go to the ball for a change?” She laughed again, obviously delighted with the idea Vicki had planted in her mind. She turned to Vicki. “Do you need more aspirin, dear?”

“Probably. Maybe I should just take the whole bottle.” Vicki had been complaining of a headache since mid-afternoon. “Then again, when I get these headaches no medicine even helps. I’m out of business for the rest of the day.”

“Poor thing. Why don’t you go lie down?”

“Oh, no,” Vicki said quickly, then held her head. “Helping make Annie gorgeous will take my mind off the pain.” She flashed a smile at Annie that made an entirely different kind of pain shoot through her. Why was Vicki trying so hard to humiliate her?

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.” Annie wished she could put her foot down. Surely attending a big, fancy party couldn’t possibly be described as part of a housekeeper’s duties. “I’m sure Sinclair would rather go alone.”

She knew that part was true. He wanted to pretend he’d never kissed her. Never made crazy, unexpected love to her and breathed hot moans in her ear. Bitter disappointment trickled through her—again.

“Nonsense. And you’ll enjoy it, Annie. It’ll be the party of the summer. They’re probably spending two million on it. Think of it as an experience, rather like an adventure vacation. Now, we need to find you a dress. I think I have a loose-fitting Zang Toi that’s a bit big for me …”

“We won’t need that.” Vicki put a proprietary arm around Annie, who shrank from her. “She can wear one of the dresses from the abandoned trousseau.”

Katherine looked doubtfully at Annie’s waist, which she instinctively sucked in. “I’m not sure those will fit.”

“I suspect Annie’s a lot trimmer than her usual attire would have us believe. Let’s go have a look.” Vicki marched purposefully down the corridor, with Katherine in hot pursuit, leaving Annie no choice but to slouch after them.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine the look she’d see on Sinclair’s face when they paraded her in front of him wearing one of the dresses that had already caused so much trouble. He’d be appalled. He’d probably think it was her idea. Some crude scheme to ensnare him.

Maybe he’d point-blank refuse to go.

“I think the silvery gray one will look lovely against her complexion.”

Did silvery gray look good against beetroot? Annie avoided looking in the large mirror on the front of the wardrobe. Vicki held up the long dress with its low-cut princess neckline and huge skirt.

“Of course, they would have worn it with a crinoline and loads of extra petticoats, but we’ll spare you that. Especially since we don’t have any. We’ll wait outside while you put it on.”

Annie was grateful for the slight nod to her modesty. She climbed out of her familiar shirt and khakis with a sinking feeling. If this didn’t fit, they’d only make her try on another. Worst-case scenario, she’d end up in the peacock dress she’d worn already, with them wondering why it looked so crumpled.

The dress was quite heavy, with built-in boning at the waist and yards of expensive silk. The short, puffy sleeves hugged her arms quite tightly, but there was no way she could do up the long line of buttons down the back by herself. “Um …”

“Need help?” Vicki was right outside the door. She opened it without an invitation. “Oh, yes.”

Annie felt hot and flustered under their rather stunned gazes. “I must look very silly.”

“Nonsense. You look lovely.” Katherine frowned. “What are we going to do with her hair?” Her eyes raked over Annie like she was a mannequin.

“Got to be an updo.” Vicki squinted at her. “I have some pins and hairspray in my room. And some earrings.”

They buttoned her into the dress, which fit almost perfectly. The original owner must have been quite chunky by Victorian standards, if this fit her corseted waist. The bodice hugged Annie’s cleavage in an embarrassing but flattering way, especially after Katherine convinced her to abandon her bra. Vicki fussed over her hair, creating tiny finger coils that framed her temples, and Katherine lent her a pair of pewter ballet flats.

“Won’t I be overdressed?” The silk skirt fell to the floor.

“A lady can never be overdressed.” Katherine eyed her with approval. “Especially not when she looks fabulous. Goodness, I’d never have guessed you had such a lovely figure. You should show it off more.”

Great. Now they’d probably get her a French maid’s uniform to wear while performing her duties.

“Maybe we’d better make sure Sinclair looks presentable.” Vicki glanced toward the door.

“Oh, don’t worry about him. He always looks good. Horribly unfair. I don’t know how he stays so tanned, either. He always seems to have his face in his laptop.”

“I suspect Sinclair of having a secret life.” Vicki snuck a wink at Annie, who pretended not to notice.

“Where he’s out lying in the sun?”

“Or running along the beach with the wind in his hair.” Vicki laughed. “I have a feeling most people only see a tiny part of the real Sinclair.”

“Hmm.” Katherine looked doubtful. “Well, as long as the other parts are going to give me a grandchild before I get too old and decrepit, that’s fine. He doesn’t know he’s going with Annie instead yet, does he?”

“I haven’t breathed a word. I think we should stay out of the way until the last minute, then surprise him with her.” Annie cringed, but had long given up trying to shape the evening’s events. All she could do now was brace herself.

Three hours later, the sound of Sinclair’s tread on the stairs made her gut clench into a fist. He’d been in his room almost since lunch, supposedly working. He hadn’t heard about Vicki’s supposed headache. Or that he was about to see his housekeeper dressed like some sacrificial virgin—except without the virgin part.

“Come, stand here. I can’t wait to see his face.” Vicki prodded her into position in the alcove between the living room and the front hallway. Annie wished she could warn him somehow. What look would they all see on his face? Horror, quite likely. Then maybe disgust.

“Sinclair, darling, do come into the living room for a cocktail before you go.” His mom winked at Annie.

“Is Vicki ready?” His world-weary tone carried through the house along with the sound of his footfalls on the old oak boards.

“Not exactly.” Vicki crossed her arms and looked smug. She held a finger over her lips. Annie wished she could dive behind the sofa. Her heart rate increased as Sinclair’s movements grew closer. By the time he reached the door, her heart was pounding so hard she worried the whalebone stays in her bodice might burst and release her braless breasts just in time for his entrance.

“Come in, Sinclair.” She heard his mom from outside the room.

“Why’s everyone acting so strange?” His deep voice sent a ripple of anticipation—richly mingled with dread—right through her.

He rounded the corner and looked up, at her. Frozen to the spot and unable to think at all, let alone utter a word, she watched his reaction. Astonishment, sure. Disbelief. Her face heated as he took in her hair, her earrings, the subtle makeup Vicki had painstakingly applied. Then his gaze dropped lower, almost imperceptibly grazing her cleavage and the nipped-in waistline of the dress. Her breasts swelled against the snug neckline, responding to the desire that flashed in his eyes. Or was that alarm?

“Annie, you look stunning.” His compliment sounded cool and composed, as if he’d expected to see her standing there dressed for the party.

“Vicki isn’t well,” she rushed to explain. “And they didn’t think you’d go if you were alone, so they insisted that I …” She wanted to let him know this wasn’t her idea.

“Vicki’s loss is my gain.”

His expression was unreadable. She reminded herself it was simply a polite response, something he might say to a friend of his mother’s. No doubt he didn’t want to betray his horror to the others or they’d suspect there was some reason he felt uncomfortable going with her. Beyond the obvious reason that she was supposed to be waxing the furniture, not waltzing with the boss.

“It seemed such a shame to waste the invitation.” Katherine picked a speck of imaginary lint from his spotless tux. “And why shouldn’t Annie get to have some fun for a change? You will make sure she has a good time, won’t you?”

“Of course.” He didn’t take his eyes off Annie. “It would be my pleasure.”

There was an oddly flat tone to his voice.

I’m sorry

. She tried to say it with her eyes. He must be appalled at the prospect of spending the evening with her. Maybe he thought she’d try to rekindle the flame of lust that had singed them both so badly.

“Why don’t we all have a gin and tonic?” Vicki moved toward the drinks cabinet.

“No, thanks.” Sinclair and Annie said it in unison. A moment of awkward silence turned into a nervous laugh. “We should get going,” said Sinclair. He probably wanted to get out of there and get this whole charade over with as quickly as possible.

Annie gathered her impressive skirts. Hopefully she wouldn’t trip over them and fall flat on her face. She headed for the side door, through the kitchen, but Katherine pulled open the formal front door they rarely used. “This way tonight. You look far too elegant to sneak out the side door.” She now had to negotiate the rather uneven brick steps, and an equally hazardous slate walkway, and was almost breaking a sweat by the time they reached the driveway. Sinclair’s black BMW gleamed golden in the low rays of sunlight sneaking through the tall hedges. She walked toward it until she realized there was a silver Bentley sitting a little farther up the drive.

“We’re being driven to the event.” He spoke coolly. “Mom is always very cautious about drinking and driving.”

A uniformed driver emerged and held open one of the rear doors. Annie’s spirits sank when she realized they wouldn’t be alone even long enough for her to plead innocence in this whole caper. She managed to climb in, pulling her long skirt behind her and arranging it around her legs.

Sinclair entered on the other side and sat next to her. The rear seat was spacious enough to leave room for another person between them, but the space quickly filled with tension.

The driver climbed into his seat and started the engine, then started to speak with a heavy Brooklyn accent. “I’ll be waiting there for you tonight, so you can leave any time you want. Sounds like quite the party, from the talk at the depot. Everyone wants a limo tonight. We could have rented this one three times over.” Annie pictured people scrambling to rent fabulous limousines before the town ran dry of them. Who knew such problems existed?

Sinclair glanced sideways at her. Probably wondering why she was there instead of Vicki.

“Vicki complained of a headache since lunch.” She felt the need to explain in a way that wouldn’t reveal the whole situation to the rather chatty driver. “She seemed really keen for me to come.”

“She’s never had so much as a hangnail in all the years I’ve known her.” He met her gaze. Her breath hitched at the warmth in his dark eyes. “I suspect she has an ulterior motive.”

“I was wondering about that.” She fingered the beading at her waistline. “It was all her idea.”

“Doesn’t surprise me in the least.”

Annie hesitated. It was hard to be secretive and frank at the same time. But she did wonder if Sinclair had laughingly told Vicki about their … misadventure. “I didn’t say anything to her at all, about, you know.”

He frowned for a moment. “Of course you didn’t.” She waited for him to say that he’d also kept quiet. “She probably has her own agenda. Maybe she’s trying to avoid someone who’ll be there.”

Annie nodded. “Could be.” She couldn’t figure Vicki out at all, but if she’d teased her about liking Sinclair, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d done the same to him.

Apparently he wasn’t going to reveal anything either way.

He looked breathtakingly handsome in his tux. The crisp, white shirt collar emphasized the hard, bronzed lines of his chin and cheekbones. She’d have loved to drink in the vision of him but had to make do with surreptitious glances.

She risked another sneak peak, enjoying the set of his broad shoulders against the luxurious leather seat of the car. “Your mom looks better every day.”

“Yes, thank God. She really does seem to be on the mend. The doctors said it will be months before she’s fully recovered, though. Her liver and kidneys shut down and her immune system almost gave up. She’s very lucky to be here. This whole thing with the cup is keeping her at home, too, which is good. Normally she’s traveling all over the world, which the doctors told her not to do until her immune system is up to speed. I’m sure that’s the only reason she’s not in Scotland storming the baronial halls of that particular Drummond.”

Annie laughed. “I can’t believe how much stuff is in that one attic. It could take a lifetime to go through it.” She glanced at the driver. Maybe it wasn’t wise to reveal their treasure trove to a total stranger.

“That’s good. It will keep Mom safely in Dog Harbor longer.” His wry smile sent a flash of warmth to her heart. He settled his broad hand on the soft seat and for a second she imagined it resting on her thigh, only inches away, hidden beneath the dress’s layer of silk.

“It’s downright strange how well that dress fits you. Almost like it was made for you.”

“Weird, huh? The original owner would have worn all kinds of undergarments to get it th