The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(23)

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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 fa?ade 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 have 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.”