The Ugly Duckling Debutante_FINAL-3 (21 page)

He only wished Sara’s parents could make it to the wedding. When he questioned her about their attendance, she turned quiet and changed the subject. Not at all like the Sara he’d grown to care for over the past few days. Nicholas decided to allow the subject to drop. After all, they hadn’t provided her a dowry, so it was not surprising they cared so little about their daughter's nuptials. Obviously, they weren’t a close family. He wanted to remedy that as soon as possible, when he made his surprise visit to them after the honeymoon.

Nicholas stretched out of his bed and went to the bath. He wasn’t one to admit his affinity for the bath, considering only women bathed daily, but it felt good on his sore muscles. He had been up late the past few nights making sure everything was in place for his new bride. He had paid a very high price to have her room redecorated but it was to be a surprise for her. The finishing preparations were completed early that morning, and his body was paying for it.

He washed himself and hummed a tune then his valet came in to dress him. Sara had chosen a beautiful velvet coat with gold buttons for him to wear. She had no idea the gold was solid, but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He wanted to spare no expense. Lady Fenton actually shed a tear when he also paid for Sara's wedding dress. In all honesty, Lady Fenton was more emotional than Sara. You’d think she was the one getting married with as much fuss as she had made over the decorations and food.

What had once seemed a strained relationship between the two women had now blossomed into a fairytale. They poured themselves over plans for the wedding, and Nicholas often found them giggling in the corner like schoolgirls. He smiled and rolled his eyes but silently thanked the Lord above that Sara had been given such a gracious and loving aunt.

Though he trusted her with his past, Nicholas had never particularly enjoyed his cousin's company, but now that Sara was in his life, his fondness for Lady Fenton grew at alarming speed. He was even contemplating having her become Duncan’s stand-in grandmother, since his own parents were gone.

He gazed into the mirror and smiled; his face would fall off if he kept this ridiculously joyful expression pasted there much longer. His valet rolled his eyes and mumbled something about a
lovesick school boy
, stopping Nicholas dead in his tracks.

Good God, it had happened so swiftly and almost as easily He was besotted, lovesick and totally vulnerable. He was in love. The thought choked him up. His valet was right. Nicholas
was
disgustingly sick over his love for Sara. It wasn’t even lust anymore, for when he thought about her, it was her smile and her character that inhabited his mind. Granted, when he touched her, or even allowed his eyes to venture over her body, his rakish side responded in other ways, but wasn’t it good to have lust and love? Hadn’t he only recently discovered it was possible to entertain both emotions?

Nicholas shook his head. His desire was for more than her body. It was for her mind, her soul, her entire heart. He wanted it all.

Could
he tell her?
Should
he tell her? He couldn’t. He needed to prove himself first, prove himself worthy. Rejection would be too painful if Sara didn’t feel the same way. He had hurt her deeply in so many ways, and she still agreed to marry him. But was it pity? Or her family's need for money? Both were possibilities. Regardless, they had become friends, and she cared for him too—of this he was certain. But Nicholas doubted he was worth loving, the way that a man should be loved by his wife. And it was for this reason he had to prove himself worthy.

He shook the dark thoughts from his head and ran down the stairs. Duncan waited at the bottom of the staircase in his most dashing new outfit of shiny black boots and a miniature version of Nicholas’s black jacket. “Daddy’s getting married today!” Nicholas crooned into Duncan’s ear.

Duncan clapped his hands and smiled. “Ma-wy Sa?” It was what he called Sara, since he had trouble with his R’s.

Nicholas smiled. “Yes, Daddy marry Sa.” He plopped Duncan into the nurse’s hands and tipped his hat. He was out the door in a flash, and before he had time to even count the minutes, he was directly in front of the church waiting for Sara.

The church was nicely decorated with white roses. It made him want to break out in a wide grin. It was simple. A week ago he would have said it fit Sara perfectly. Yet after knowing her in the way he did, he realized no flower—or object for that matter—could truly describe a woman who was so deep and intricately put together. The pews in the church each had a single lit candle which led the way down to where his future bride would meet him. Only a few close friends were seated in the pews, Belverd included, whose smug smile was enough to tempt Nicholas to punch him. The bet was lost. No longer would he receive the much sought-after feather, but his prize was far greater. Even his old friend's ribbing could not deflate his joy today.

The groom stood at the altar and fought to retain a shred of dignity. Nicholas was so nervous; he couldn’t even remember what Sara looked like. Then in perfect timing, the doors to the church opened and there she stood.

Sara was draped in a beautifully crafted silk gown adorned with tiny diamonds encrusted throughout the bodice. It fell into a beautiful train down the back and wrapped snugly around her body in all the right places, then descended into a flowing skirt, making her waist appear as the daintiest of flowers. The white of the dress was a stark contrast to her dark hair and skin. She looked like a foreign princess, not some country maiden during her debut. It was almost uncomfortable how beautiful she looked—like a vision, and Nicholas worried if he touched her, the dream would somehow fade, and Sara would back away slowly and regret her decision to come in the first place.

Just as the fears cascaded through Nicholas’s consciousness, Sara smiled. His insides began melting, and she slowly glided toward him, arms outstretched, which was improper, but she had little care for the propriety of the
ton
.

They grasped hands and smiled at each other. Nicholas bent down and kissed her cheek; he really couldn’t help himself. The priest cleared his throat in protest; he was lucky Nicholas kept it to one kiss rather than kidnapping his beautiful bride and locking her in his room right now.

“Please be seated.” The priest signaled the beginning of the ceremony. Nicholas squeezed Sara’s hand. It was time to get married.

Chapter Sixteen

Sara was thankful for answered prayers when she saw Nicholas’s joyous smile light up the room. He looked dashing, far too dashing for someone like her. The dark coat hung snugly on his frame and left her feeling entirely too intoxicated by his presence. The coat paired with his dark features and crystal blue eyes would cause even a married woman to sell her home and most prized possessions just to be in his presence.

Never had she felt so nervous, not even when faced with rejection by her own parents or the
ton
. What if he left her at the altar? Worse, what if he rejected her and said
no
? She tried to keep her smile steady but began wavering when he leaned his head down to hers. Was he going to whisper that he couldn’t go through with it?

Her fears ceased when she felt his warm lips caress her cheek, and he whispered into her ear so only she could hear, “You are
beautiful
.”

It was all the confirmation she needed. Eyes pooling with tears, she listened to him proclaim his life-long vows, noticing that he too was getting choked up over the whole affair. She surprised even herself when her voice rang free and clear during her own. The priest pronounced them married and introduced them. It finally hit Sara that she was a countess now—how odd she hadn’t thought of it this whole time. People had mentioned it before, of course, but she never dreamed she would be addressed as anything other than Lady Sai. She was now Countess of Renwick. It was enough to make her giddy with delight, to share a name with the man she so madly loved. Now if he would only share a fraction of his heart.

They ran to the carriage amidst cheers from the crowd and pulled away toward Fenton House.

“Come here,” Nicholas ordered hoarsely, pulling her body onto his own. He wasted no time in showering her with kisses. Sara was having trouble breathing. It was almost too much to take in. This burning passion for Nicholas matched with an inconceivable joy.

Had they really just married? She wanted to pinch herself, but now that she was facing the reality of her situation, she wanted nothing more than to live in the dream presented before her.

Nicholas had foolishly married her because of his honor, but in his kiss was much more than honor. There was passion, and, dare she think it, love?

She laughed softly as he pulled her into his lap on his side of the carriage. “So Lady Renwick,” he crooned into the nape of her neck. “Was it perfect?”

Sara wanted to pout and cross her arms, to show him she wasn’t the happiest person in the world to be in his arms, but she really was. She couldn't conceal it. And thoughts of her parents who weren’t actually her parents, that she had been lied to all her life, and that the person she was falling in love with promised her he would never give her his heart, would have to wait. Right now, this moment was all that mattered, and life couldn’t get any better.

She sighed and kissed him wantonly across his mouth. “Nicholas Renwick, I do believe we are married.”

He smiled, seeming to forget about his earlier question, and hungrily possessed her mouth again, as if the world would end that very second if he didn’t kiss her until breath came in ragged and muffled gasps.

“Nicholas.”

“Say my name again,” he moaned huskily into her ear.

“Nicholas,” she said, this time more insistently. “We’re almost there.” He reluctantly pulled away from her face and groaned. Was it her imagination, or did she see something smoldering behind his gaze?

“You’re absolutely right. I have no idea what came over me.” He winked at her and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

Through the fog of her own desire, she felt their carriage rumble to a stop in front of Fenton House. The timing had been impeccable. Was it wrong for her to want to stay in that carriage with her husband forever? Her heart ached with the memory of his claim to both woo her and persuade her to annul the marriage within the first year. The more time she spent with him, the more kisses they shared, the more she wanted to hang on and never let go, but would he ever feel the same way about her?

He kissed her hand softly and led her up the stairs into the massive home. When they reached the door, he turned with a slow smile spreading across his darkly handsome face. “We’ll smile, shake hands, eat heartily, and then… you’re mine.”

Sara turned what she imagined to be an unattractive shade of red as her face felt like it was getting hotter by the minute. Nicholas laughed and ushered her into the great hall.
'You’re mine'?
Really? The possessive tone in his voice did odd things to her stomach making her feel even more excited about that night. She tried to still her hammering heart but found it useless. For every time her husband glanced her way, he sent her another of his alluring smiles, reminding her of the impending promise he had made. He meant it, she could tell. There was always a hint of amusement behind Nicholas’s eyes, but this time she saw only amusement masked by sheer passion. What in the world had she gotten herself into?

***

Nicholas tried to calm himself. He nearly burst when Lady Fenton went on and on about the fish and how delightful it was to have such a wonderful French cook at Fenton House. "Really, Lord Renwick, you should endeavor to employ a French chef as soon as possible," she raved. She seemed appalled that anyone would choose to put off such an important matter. Insanity must reign in a house which refused to employ someone with such delicate tastes as her own French master.

Just as Nicholas felt he could take no more, he heard Sara laugh, and the all too familiar smoldering in his body began anew. At first it was like a small flame, easily dealt with after a few stolen kisses. But something had changed during that carriage ride; it suddenly occurred to him he was, in fact, kissing his wife—his wife! The thought nearly set him to laughing right there in the middle of the carriage. Of course, it would have upset Sara, and that was the last thing on this earth he wanted to do. However, at the top of his list was pleasing her beyond measure.