The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(12)

Last night her fantasies came alive. Now it felt like the dream was shattering before her eyes. Wasn’t the prince supposed to be madly in love with the princess? The storybooks never spoke of the prince apologizing to the princess for embarrassing her.

Her daydreaming soon took over; she didn’t even notice the room darkening.

“I must take my leave.” Lord Renwick rose from the couch and bowed to her aunt. “Lady Fenton, it was a pleasure. I look forward to Friday.” He turned toward Sara and smiled, whatever had passed between them was obviously gone. “Sai, thank you for the lovely time. Please be ready for my carriage at six o’clock on Friday.” He brushed his lips across her gloved hand but didn’t release her hand until he squeezed it a little too long and hard. She meant to pull back, but just like before she felt clumsy and frozen in his presence. He left the house quickly as if to escape.

“Most peculiar,” her aunt mused, sipping her tea.

“What is?” Sara asked.

“Lord Renwick,” Lady Fenton answered.

“I don’t understand your meaning, my lady,” Sara countered.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just…” She tilted her head to the side. “I don’t believe I have ever seen him behave in such a scatter-brained manner. He seemed positively unhinged.”

Sara grunted in a very unladylike manner before she answered, “If that’s Lord Renwick unhinged, I would hate to be on the receiving end when he was…hinged.”

Aunt Tilda laughed. “Don’t hold your breath, my gel. Women still flock in droves just to get a glimpse of his face. When he is—how would you put it—hinged, he is one of the most persuasive men in the country. Even more so than the Prince Regent himself.”





Chapter Five



Entering his carriage, a stream of swear words escaped from Nicholas’s mouth. “My lord?” his footman asked curiously before closing the door to the carriage.

“Drive,” he ordered through clenched teeth. What he needed was brandy and lots of it—not that it would help push away the memory of Sai’s face, but it would at least numb him for a few hours. He knocked on the door and yelled for the footman to stop at White’s.

By the time they wove through the other carriages, Nicholas had calmed down. “Never mind, just home.”

The carriage took a quick turn through the park and headed toward Renwick House. By the time he reached his street, his head was pounding. He wanted to stab something with his sword just so he could release some of the aggression he felt. Normally when he went through this type of emotional turmoil, he would summon one of his highly paid courtesans to…make a friendly visit, but since his reformation he settled for tea and his Bible, even though nothing would make him happier now than letting out some of the aggression he had sworn for two years to keep in.

What was wrong with him? And why had he upset Sai? He thought he had been playing the role of protector; instead she thought him insulting and making fun of her. Was she fishing for compliments like every other female he knew? Or was she really under the impression she was not beautiful?

How could she not see it? Her own reflection? Did she not own a mirror? Preposterous. Lady Fenton herself told him she was devastating. Why on earth would Sai believe otherwise? He picked up his Bible and sighed. She really was like every other woman—taking offense just because she could, and fishing for compliments because he would be the one giving them.

Curse all females, he thought as he blindly sent his teacup shattering against the wall. He was acting like a spoiled child, but he didn’t care. Sai was everything he swore he would never give into again. She was beautiful, smart, and—unfortunately for him—also a master of manipulative arts. Impossible that she didn’t know the effect she had on people. That would be like saying he didn’t know the effect he had on people. If the Prince Regent himself commissioned Nicholas to woo royalty, he knew he could pull it off without a hitch—and probably secure enough gold to feed a small nation.

Nicholas rested his head against the chair. He liked his life. It was simple. He was rich. He gave to charity, not to mention totally reformed of his old ways. He didn’t deserve a maiden, and he didn’t want a seductress like Sai. What he really wanted… no, what he needed was to live in the country away from temptation.

He sat up quickly. The answer was so simple. After he escorted Sai to a few more balls he would be free to leave. He would go to the country, perhaps retire for a while, maybe find a country woman who would want to marry him and give him children. Someone away from the influence of the ton. He had lived enough years within their deadly grasp; why not move to the countryside? Where did Lady Fenton say she had family? It was somewhere in the countryside—maybe she had a distant niece he could marry, someone who understood life.

He smiled for the first time in an hour as he thought of his new country bride. Naturally he would wait until after he had the feather. That would mean he would need to court in secret, but affairs of the country were never discussed during the season. Granted, it wasn’t that he technically wanted to take a bride, but it was the next sort of step for a man like him to make. He didn’t want to marry but it was his God given duty to produce an heir and be able to carry on his family line even if he was set against it. A quiet country mouse was just what he needed. Especially if that country mouse took his thoughts away from the siren he was having to spend every waking moment with.