If only I could keep her.He still doubted her interest beyond the novelty of his designs, but oh, how he wished she could care for him, as he found himself increasingly smitten with every interaction.
A shiver went through him as he feared heartbreak in his future, and he shook it off. She’d said something when she first arrived about increasing his sales. He should probably pursue that, if for no other reason than to forestall further efforts from her to widen his clientele.
“I am not working on anything new right now. Pray do not get distracted. You’ve come so far to share these fascinating concerns regarding my sales; do tell.”
Her grin did not flag in the slightest. “Where were you earlier? The servant who let me in said you’d come from your club?” Her brows lifted in question.
“White’s, with Michael and Bags, of course.”
“Not ‘of course.’ I know you three—well, Michael may not any longer—also have memberships at Sarah Potter’s Club.”
He blinked, freezing his expression at neutral.
“Do you care to confirm that? No? Right, then, I shall continue. Do you sell your goods to her?”
He blinked again.
“Come now, Robert.” She wagged a finger at him. “You do remember I have quite a lot of friends, do you not?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what exactly?”
“Yes, I sell to Mrs. Potter for her establishment.” He ignored her snicker.
“Do you sell to her other clientele?”
He glared at her continued playful jabs. “Not directly. But her private parties sometimes include a selection and/or a demonstration of my wares by her girls, without my direct involvement.”
“I thought of a way to do that beyond the balls.”
He shook his head. “Too many men are protective of their memberships. They don’t even want to meet others’ eyes in the waiting room, much less hold conversations or discuss their preferences in toys.”
“I thought as much. But what if you created a catalogue? It could be left in that waiting room. Or mayhap in Sarah’s office.”
He gave her a sharp glance at her use of Sarah’s first name.
Does she know Sarah? She did say she has a lot of friends. And Bags said her network rivaled his. Ugh, I don’t want my worlds to be this entwined.
“Clients—and the employees, for that matter—could select their choices and place orders with her. They’d remain confidential because you’d get them anonymously and Sarah would handle all exchanges, for a commission.”
He considered the setup. “What about items that need personal measurements?”
“Oh, right. I hadn’t thought of that. Mayhap those are in a section that stipulates a meeting with the designer? Then they won’t know you unless they share their identity.”
He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with that unless he had right of refusal. What if one of those bullies from school wanted something until he found out Robert was the designer? However, he also wasn’t ready to share those fears with Beth. He suspected she’d scoff at them, given her fearless approach to life.
“Do you really think this sort of thing would sell from a catalogue?” he asked instead.
“I think if you offer sketches as well as descriptions, it could. Especially if the sketches included a model. Think of the various positions you showed me for the first set of cuffs. You needn’t show them all, but a few to spark someone’s imagination would likely improve sales.”
“Who would—” Seeing her grin, he shook his head. He should have guessed. “You? You want to model?”
“And get to play with all those lovely wares of yours? Yes, please.”
He had to admit, the idea held merit. He tilted his head, mind racing at the challenge. Evan’s party created more work than he’d prefer, but that was only once a year. The rest of the year, he could certainly handle more volume. His need for a new blacksmith suddenly felt more pressing.
Do I dare? Will this expose me? Or someone else?
