The Ugly Duckling Debutante(17)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“What choice do I have? You’ve compromised me. Or don’t you remember? Does your honor not extend that far?”

He sighed. This was going to hurt her, but he had to say it. “And it’s for that reason alone, Sai, I have agreed to marry you. Yes, I want your body, but I can’t allow myself to care about your mind, or your heart, or your love. I have no room in my life for it.

Her eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t bring himself to even look in her direction as he said, “We’ll get married next week. The sooner the better. Until then, I’ll do everything in my power to change your mind.” Because I can’t live with the pain I’ll cause you, but I’m still selfish enough to want you.

She ran away, shoes in hand; she hadn’t even tried to put them on. How did the night turn out so awful? Where had he gone wrong—well, actually the better question would be, had he at any time that night handled things right?

Nicholas was jealous, possessive, lust-filled, passionate, and then as if things couldn’t get any worse, he lied through his teeth to her about his feelings. But wasn’t it better this way? He was protecting her. Sai was young and had no idea how the ton treated scandal. She would be gossiped about for years. He couldn’t bring himself to do that to such an innocent girl.

If there was anyone to blame, it was Nicholas. Maybe if they had met sooner, before everything had gone wrong, maybe then he would have married her, selfishly wanting her for himself. Couldn’t she see that he was being honorable? That this was the first time in his life he was actually putting someone else’s welfare above his own? His chest tingled where she had laid her hand. His lips felt numb from their kissing.

The letter he had received earlier that day had set him on edge. He knew what surprises the next day promised to bring. Information that would destroy any pieces of romance and desire Sai felt for him. It broke his heart to think about the ramifications of a poor choice that was made so long ago. For the first time in his life he wasn’t afraid for himself, but for the pain it would bring to all innocent people involved.

The scandal, the gossip—everything had the potential to explode in his face. People would finally know why Nicholas Renwick decided to turn to religion, and the information would shock the ton to the core for years to come. It was imperative that he take his secret to the grave and keep those around him quiet. Too many lives would be affected otherwise.

***

Trying to be inconspicuous, Sara snuck back into the ballroom. She put on her shoes and a brave face, excusing herself to the ladies’ salon to drink some tea to quiet her nerves.

Some of the pins that had once been secure hung loosely around her neck. She re-pinned them as best she could and smoothed her dress. Noticing a mirror in the far corner of the salon, she stared at the unrecognizable girl gazing back at her—she was not the same girl who left the country just a few weeks earlier.

She found it ironic Nicholas actually desired a simple country girl, oblivious to the fact that she was just that, nothing more. He assumed she was rich, and had a dowry the size of her aunt’s fortune. He also assumed she was a lady, which she also was not. The thought humbled her. She traveled all the way to London to secure a husband with riches, and the only one she wanted didn’t want a lady of the ton, but a simple girl like the one she used to see staring back at her through the glass.

A sigh escaped her lips and she pinched her cheeks to add color to a face that she knew looked terribly tired and pale. She would be brave, and she would marry Nicholas. It must be; even if he kept pushing her away, she knew her aunt wouldn’t stand for his backing out, so he was stuck with her unless something drastic happened. Earlier today she heard from her mother that their money was dwindling. It was now all up to her to marry someone who could take care of her family. And Nicholas could do just that.

Some ladies walked in to the room and stared at her, then abruptly left whispering between themselves. Normally she was approached and spoken to. How swiftly things changed when one appeared to have a secret rendezvous in the garden. She shrugged and grabbed her reticule to leave, when the doors suddenly burst open.

“There you are!” Lady Fenton screamed. “I have been looking everywhere for you. Quickly. We must go. We must go immediately.”

Sara nodded her head and followed, apparently someone saw her and Nicholas in the garden. It was hardly scandalous enough for people to be gossiping. They were betrothed after all—not that it made her feel any less dirty for engaging in something so completely wanton. It was totally out of character for her. No, in fact, it was pure desperation. She was willing to give a part of herself to him that no man had ever received, if only he would admit he cared for her, that he could love her. Instead it seemed to make matters much worse; he hated himself for wanting her and hated himself for not being able to let her go. What a mess she had made.

A relative hush descended upon the ton as everyone watched Sara and Lady Fenton exit into the nearest hallway. Was kissing in the garden really that heinous? The churning in her stomach told her it was about much more than kissing in the garden. Her aunt pulled her into a room and shut the door. Lady Fenton paced in front of Sara until she was sure the floor would give way.

When her aunt looked up, Sara could tell she had been crying. “Aunt, are you well?” Sara asked quietly. Her aunt shook her head and looked toward the window overlooking the property; a heavy tension in the air.

“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake, my dear.” Lady Fenton looked down at her hands. “You must marry Nicholas. The banns have been read and many of the ton already know you are compromised.”

“I know, aunt, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t the match you wanted, but I—” Her aunt held up her hand.

“Let me finish, Sai…Sara,” she corrected.

Sara waited.

“It was widely believed Lord Renwick simply became bored of the life he led, that he didn’t really want to cavort about anymore. People began respecting him for his views. He claimed to be a reformed man, and the entire ton believed him. I merely kept my mouth shut.” Her eyes pooled with more tears. “But things aren’t always what they seem, my dear. Two years ago, Renwick had an affair with a duchess. It was widely reputed that the duke had been unfaithful, so many agreed it was only fair that the duchess also take a lover. She was beautiful; she had hair just like yours, actually.”

Sara lifted her hand to touch her hair, her stomach growing sicker by the minute. Was that why he found her so attractive? Because she resembled a lost love?

“She and Renwick had a long affair. Her marriage was arranged; therefore, she was quite young. The duke was old and set in his ways. He heard rumors of his wife’s scandal but did nothing to stop it. Later, it was publicized that the duke died by falling on his own sword because the grief of his wife’s infidelity had done him in. Unable to produce an heir, everything went to the wife. She wanted to marry Renwick, but he was never one for marriage. The story went on she was too emotionally attached to Renwick, so he left her and later found religion. She was his last, you see.”

Sara still couldn’t figure out why this was such scandal. Granted, it sounded bad, and Renwick would surely have to explain himself. He was the cause of someone else’s grief, no doubt, but there forgiveness is part of life. “Aunt, I don’t understand. Wasn’t everyone aware of this story before this evening?”

“This story they were aware of. The real story just surfaced this evening, my dear.” Lady Fenton held up a handkerchief to her eye and swallowed. “What I am about to tell you is the truth, from Renwick himself—though I swore I would never speak of it. Somehow, the ton got wind of it, most likely because of the attention paid to both of you of late and your betrothal. My dear, I must ask for your forgiveness first.”

Sara was confused. “Whatever for?”

Lady Fenton smiled weakly. “It was my fault you and Renwick were forced to be betrothed. I used his attraction to you. The moment he laid eyes on you, I knew he wanted you. I manipulated him into jealousy and lust. The duke was never going to offer for you. He was merely following you, so there would be a witness to the scandal between the two of you. It was deceitful, but you must understand. I love my cousin, and you seemed to be the only lady of the ton with heart enough to forgive him. If I had known his scandal would ever reach the ears of the ton, I would have died before letting you become involved. And now it seems you have a choice to make. Marry him and deal with the consequences of his disgrace, or refuse him and ruin yourself.”

Sara closed her eyes in protest; both options were abominable. If she refused him, could she simply go back to her country life? But what life would she have with no money for her family? They would all be ruined.

“What did he do, aunt?” Sara whispered.

“Sara, he killed him.”

“Who killed whom?” Sara asked, even though she knew in her heart what her aunt’s answer would be.

“Sara, the duke found his wife with Renwick. Do you understand what that means?”

Sara nodded numbly.

“When he saw the affair had been brought into his own home, he was furious. He challenged Renwick to a duel.”

Sara gasped. “But those are illegal!”

“It doesn’t matter, Sara. What Renwick did was wrong. He crossed the line severely. Too blind with passion to say no, the following morning he and the duke dueled to the death. Renwick was winning, but in a sudden desire to be honorable, withdrew his sword. The duke provoked him even more and threatened to kill him, which was his right. Renwick saw an opportunity and took it, hoping only to injure the man, but the duke was old and did not have the strength to overcome the wounds. He died later that same night.”

Lady Fenton bit her lip. “It was then the duchess revealed to Renwick she was pregnant with his son. She hadn’t been with her husband in over a year. They kept it as quiet as possible and paid everyone off to report it was grief and rage which did the duke in. She gave birth in the country and was to raise the boy there. Renwick and the duchess never spoke of what happened and never reconciled. It was one of his biggest regrets, for in my heart I believe he loved her.

"Two months ago Renwick received news the duchess died of scarlet fever. Renwick was planning to do the honorable thing and take the son into his own household, even though it would create scandal. Before his son reached London this evening, someone from Renwick’s estate broke the silence about a small boy, the age of two now, coming to live with them. Normally it wouldn’t have incited such talk, but the boy is said to look exactly like the duchess who died. It didn’t take long for the real story to surface, though only a select few knew about it.”

Listening to her aunt, Sara’s stomach heaved. Nicholas wasn’t just a rake; he was… he was an absolute monster! He stole another man’s wife, murdered the man, and left the woman alone to raise an illegitimate child. She needed time to process what her aunt told her, but blackness threatened to engulf her, closing in around the edges of her vision. Her head swam, and just as she was about to succumb to the darkness, her aunt cupped her face with her cool hands.