Then he heard someone clear their throat.
Chapter Eight
Lady Fenton walked out onto the patio between them. Nicholas thought it best not to say a word, though he was half-tempted to jump to his death when he saw his cousin’s face.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Lady Fenton finally said.
Nicholas’s emotions filled with panic, worry, fear, but mostly panic. As the ramifications of what had taken place settled fully on his shoulders. Being alone with a woman on the balcony was always frowned upon, especially when said woman was an innocent like Sai. He knew his cousin wasn’t the nicest of the ton, nor was she immune to the gossip. Some would say she was always the one who knew first what everyone else found out second.
She turned toward Nicholas. “I expect you to make this right.”
Nicholas winced, when he saw Sai's face turn red with embarrassment. How dare she embarrass Sai for something she had no control over?
“Sai did nothing. It was me.” He knew he sounded like a small child whining to his nanny.
“Oh, I am aware of what Sai did and did not do. She could have easily pushed your advances away instead of fluttering her eyelashes at you. I must admit this is partially my fault. Sai has never been one to attract attention, you can see why.” She pointed in Sai's direction, making the crimson in her cheeks deeper than before. Was this woman mad? She was putting down the most beautiful woman at the ball as if she was someone’s ugly maid.
Nicholas should have said something, but the shock rendered him mute yet again.
“Unfortunately, the duke and I saw everything.” Her tone was menacing.
Why was she up here with the duke in the first place? Nicholas wanted to ask, but he thought better of it. He didn’t want his life to end tonight because Lady Fenton had stabbed him with her fingernails.
Answering the unasked question, she turned to Sai. “He was following you to ask for your hand in marriage. Now it seems he thinks you will say no to someone such as he—especially with this rogue following you about like a lovesick puppy.” She gestured toward Nicholas. He felt like dirt.
“Therefore, I have a plan.” She looked between the two of them and smiled ruefully. “The two of you will marry.” Nicholas’s mouth gaped open and Sai gasped. “It wasn’t the match I intended, nor am I the least bit happy she will have to settle for an earl rather than a duke, but I fear there is nothing even I can do. Half the ton will know of what took place tonight by the time you reach the ball again.”
Sai's once crimson face was now paler than the moon.
“You can’t force us to marry!” Nicholas spat, suddenly angry that he would be the reason such an opportunity would be taken from Sai.
“Watch me,” Lady Fenton barked. “Three weeks." She held up three fingers to punctuate her announcement. "The banns will be read, and you will bear him children,” she said turning on Sai. Nicholas was powerless to shield her. “You will gain yourself a title, and you will put all of this sneaking around nonsense behind you.”
“You can’t do that to her,” Nicholas flared desperately. “She has the right to choose whom she wants. At least speak to the duke—tell him I seduced her, that my reformation had been a ruse! I’ll do anything. Just don’t force us to marry on my account.” He felt like an absolute martyr. Sacrificing his own happiness in order to rescue Sai from the fate of marrying someone so unworthy as he. Sai appeared to be on the verge of sobbing. He couldn't let Lady Fenton do this to her.
***
Sara didn’t know how long she could contain the tears which threatened to pour down her face at any moment. Not only was she utterly humiliated by her aunt's apprehending them, but the man who had held her so tenderly and passionately only moments ago was now refusing to marry her. Did he think she was the ugliest woman on the planet? Granted she had assumed as much earlier when he hadn’t said anything. He was hostile, angry, and not at all convinced he had done anything wrong. The look in his eyes spoke plainly—he wasn’t a reformed rogue, and underneath everything, he still wanted what every man wanted. His lustful advances were nothing more than an opportunity to embarrass her. She could see that now.
“I don’t want to marry,” her voice sounded foreign and heavy. “You shouldn’t punish Lord Renwick. He shouldn’t be forced to marry me.” There she said it. Now he was free to go live with his prayer book and deceptive façade that he was anything more than a notorious rake.
Nicholas cast a calculating glare at her, as if she were the cause of all of his pain. She glared back at him, suddenly indignant that he should be angry at her for his own behavior. True, she had asked for it, but she was not the one who led him down the dark hallway to the patio.
His eyes rolled pointedly back to Sara's aunt. “Fine. We’ll marry. But don’t expect it to be a love match.”
Lady Fenton laughed coldly. “Oh, my dear boy! A love match?” She looked back and forth between the two of them. “Given the circumstances, Nicholas, I hardly think that will be an assumption made by anyone. To think, Lord Renwick, Rogue of the Ton, marrying for love. Why, it’s positively scandalous, don’t you think?”
Nicholas didn’t speak. Sara tried again to object, but she felt the air escape her lungs in such a whoosh she was sure she would pass out at any moment.
“My dear Sai, you shall marry Lord Renwick, if for no other reason than your only other option now is to go home to your parents empty-handed and in ruin. Do you think they would take you back in such a state?” She looked sternly in Sara’s direction. Sara tried to swallow or to even remember that others' opinions didn’t matter, but she had held in her tears for too long. A single drop escaped down her cheek before she could catch it. Luckily, Lady Fenton had already turned on her heel and retreated back into the darkened hallway.
Although her aunt had missed the escaped tear, Renwick had not. In two strides, he was at her side, however reluctantly, pulling her into his arms. He handed her a handkerchief and ordered her to wipe her tears. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered. “This was obviously not my intention.”
“Yes,” she sniffled. “You’ve made me painfully aware of your intentions, my lord.”
He cringed at the use of the formal address, then stepped back and demanded, “And just what do you mean by that statement, Sai? Do you think I wanted to compromise you so you would be forced into marrying me? What a terrible opinion you have of me. You make me out to be a deceitful monster.” His face was cold and void of any emotion. Eyes as dark as night glared back at her. She wanted to slap him, but the strength had left her body.
“I’m not saying you planned this at all; I’m just acknowledging that for the past few days all you’ve done is tell me I’m not normal, and then tonight you kiss me like…like that, and you tell me I’m not normal.” She was repeating herself. She sounded like an upset child, and she didn’t even know how to make sense of any of it, except she was deeply hurt. His earlier words and dark looks made her want to crawl into a hole and escape. Weight seemed to push down on her chest while she waited for his response.
“You aren’t normal!” he insisted, interrupting her thoughts. He threw his handkerchief over the balcony and paced rapidly in front of her. “How many times do I need to tell you that? We don’t fit; we don’t belong—we don’t match!” He was yelling; she had never heard him yell before. “Obviously, there is some sort of attraction between us; although, I can’t fathom how or why I allowed it to develop.” He looked away, and she quickly dabbed at the hot tears streaming down her face. “Even your aunt is upset, and do you know I’ve now lost an important bet? All because of you? Because I felt sorry for you!” His voice rose again. She didn’t know how much she could take.
“I thought to myself, Oh well, Nicholas, be nice just this once. Give the girl a kiss, give her what she wants. She’s innocent, nothing will happen.” He shook his head furiously “Did you trick me? Was your plan to lure the lust right out of my body so I would compromise you, and you could hav
e the infamous Nicholas Renwick trapped in a loveless marriage?”
She had never hated a man more than she hated Nicholas Renwick at that moment. Not even her father, nor her uncle, nor anyone who’d ever insulted her had done such a splendid job as he.
“Are you quite finished?” she rasped, trembling with quiet rage.
“Yes,” his voice hoarse and cold.
She slipped her gloves over her small unsteady hands and started to walk away, then thought better of it. She swung back around and slapped him as hard as she could square across the other cheek. He cursed and fell to the ground. “Don’t you ever accuse me of manipulation or treachery again; I won’t stand for it. And if you tell me I’m not normal one more time, I’ll make sure the only person visiting your bedside is the doctor caring for your gunshot wound. Good night, Lord Renwick.”
She glided into the darkness and hurried back down the hall, escaping the ball without notice. It was easy enough considering the minute she turned to see if anyone noticed her Renwick had walked into the room. All eyes on him and the faint red hand print on his cheek, she slipped away. Sara nodded to her aunt who took her home in the carriage. Once she reached her room all the sobs she had been harboring, finally released.
Davina appeared at her bedside in an instant, not saying a word, merely singing a hymn about trusting in God; the irony too much to bear.
Sara couldn’t remember the last time she had cried this much. Surely it had been when she was younger and a family pet had been killed by a wolf. Other than that, she reserved her tears for the romance novels she lay awake at night to read.
“Curse that wretched Renwick fellow!” Davina yelled with arms in the air.
Sara produced a weak smile; it felt good that someone else at least understood why she felt so upset by the whole ordeal. Not only had he essentially stolen her innocence by taking her first kiss, but he managed to soil her reputation, and ruin any ounce of self worth she had established in her twenty-one years.
She knew she wasn’t normal, but did he always have to say as much? And why on Earth would he kiss her so…passionately, if he found her so disagreeable? Were the lusts of his flesh so weak he would take any willing maiden into his arms? And now she was to marry the man? A man like that… The thought did not settle well with her. She climbed into bed and forced herself to close her eyes. Maybe things would look better in the morning.
***
“Hurry! You must hurry!” Lady Fenton frantically banged on her door, waking Sara from a dead sleep.
Sara turned, rising from her bed and managed a shaky “What for?” before throwing her pillow against the wall. She had not slept well and this was not a good morning for an interruption.
“We have visitors, so many visitors, so much to do! We have already been called on by half the ton!” Lady Fenton was beaming. It was so unfair.
Sara looked at Davina, who merely shrugged her shoulders. “What does this mean?”
Lady Fenton looked sharply at Davina. “Well don’t just stand there, find her an afternoon dress!” Davina curtsied and stuck out her tongue when Lady Fenton’s gaze returned to Sara.
“This means you are the talk of the ton, even with the scandal of you and my rake of a cousin; they are worshipping at your feet, dying to know the one lady who had enough charm to bring down the infamous rake, Lord Renwick!” Lady Fenton was absolutely delighted.
Sara felt her stomach recoil. The nausea threatened to overwhelm her.
Davina returned with a beautiful green afternoon dress. It had capped sleeves but was billowy underneath the chest line, enough to make her look like a fairy princess. She put on the lovely garment all the while her aunt watched with increasing agitation. “Hurry up!” she kept saying to Davina. Sara felt she should rescue Davina from Lady Fenton’s venom, but she herself was in no mood to argue after such a long and tiresome evening.
Davina managed to weave some flowers into Sara’s hair before pushing her out the door with Lady Fenton. “Be brave,” she whispered after Sara. Sara mouthed her gratitude and descended the stairs. She went into the receiving salon and waited. The first visitors of the day were none other than the Duchess of Dutbi and Lady Jersey herself. Sara curtsied and took her seat next to Lady Fenton.
“I must say we are shocked to hear rumors of an engagement. We came here straight away to see if there was any truth to them!” Lady Jersey crowed with her attention fixed upon Sara.
Sara blushed, which apparently was all the ladies needed in confirmation. They continued chattering like chickens until more ladies were escorted in. The Duchess and Lady Jersey took their leave, and the rest of the afternoon went painfully similar. Women would ask bold questions, Sara would blush, they would gasp, and Lady Fenton would take a sip of tea and say, “I always knew Sai would reform my dear cousin. She is too delicious for him to resist.” The ladies would then share a laugh, look in Sai's direction again, and sigh.
Sai wanted to run screaming into the carriage-filled street. The afternoon was nearly over when another guest entered the house. Sai, not realizing the guest was masculine, huffed bitterly to herself before lifting her eyes.
Nicholas Renwick stood in front of her, all six feet of him. He seemed larger than last night; then again, the darkness and the kissing probably fuzzed her mind. She swallowed with difficulty and tilted her head down, motioning for him to take a seat. He didn’t address her, but turned instead to Lady Fenton.
“I realize it’s terribly rude of me to arrive unannounced, but would it be acceptable for me to take Sai through Hyde Park? We are affianced, are we not?” His smile was bitter, but Lady Fenton seemed unmoved by his intention. She nodded curtly and ordered Sai to collect her reticule and meet Renwick in front of the house.
Before Sara had any time to protest, she found herself sitting opposite Renwick in the carriage, trying desperately to think of anything but his commanding masculine presence. Never would she allow herself to be weak in his hands again. He had done permanent damage to her life, not to mention her pride.
***
Nicholas was the worst type of fool; plain and simple. He knew it, Sai knew it, and most likely the ton would know it before the day’s end. The things he’d said to Sai were unforgiveable. If she only knew the reasons behind his rage. Fear was a constant companion in his life—fear of losing control, of marrying someone whom he had no control over or who made him want to lose control. Sai was that very person, the person he promised he wouldn’t marry if his life depended on it. Not only was she too beautiful for him, but she was pure, untouched by the sin of the world. The sins of his past would destroy her, and she would hate him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t feel terrible about his past; he simply could do nothing to change it. But he could change his future, and he wouldn’t bring any more innocent victims into his darkness, not the way he did before. It wouldn’t be fair.
Looking at her now made him all the more apprehensive of the carriage ride. It seemed the more time he spent with her, the more difficult it became to think straight. She was breathtaking, and continued to grow in beauty by the second, as if that were possible. He forced himself to make small talk about the weather but received nothing but short replies.
He sent up a quick prayer, then asked the dreaded question. “Why do you hate me?” He braced himself for the impact of her words, praying it would be painless.
She laughed in return. “Are you so selfish of a man that you think the world revolves only around you and your feelings?”
He didn’t know if he should agree or be silent. He chose the latter.
“I despise you for what you stand for; I hate you for making me feel like this is my fault, like I threw myself at your feet. I am not some wanton girl trying to trap the great Nicholas Renwick in the gardens. I am not that girl, how dare you accuse me of being anything less.”
Her eyes filled with tears, making Nicholas's heart constrict.
“I didn’t mean it; I was upset.”
She snorted and s
hook her head.
“I’m not good for you. I’m not marriage material—you must see that.” His tone was turning dangerously desperate. He shook his head then pulled her hands from her lap kissing each wrist with his lips. “You deserve to be a duchess; you deserve a life I can’t give you. A life without sin, a life without baggage. You aren’t norm—“
“Nicholas Renwick, if you say I’m not normal, be prepared to face the consequences. And I do not wish to get blood on my new dress.” She glared at him, making him retreat further into his seat.
“Sorry.” He put his hand on his temple and rubbed. “I mean only that you are not like everyone else. I’m the one who’s not normal. Like I said, I’m not good for you.”
“To put it bluntly,” she added for him. “I’m not good enough for you, and you're upset, which I couldn’t care less about. I’m not any happier about this situation than you are, so for both our sakes, let's just make it through the next few days without causing physical harm to each other, agreed?” She held out a gloved hand, and he had no choice but to take it, admiring her spunk with every word she spoke.