The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(26)

Nicholas reddened. “Yes."

“I guess that means you owe me,” she teased.

“Owe you?” His voice cracked. “And just exactly what do I owe you, Mademoiselle?” He fought to keep his voice even and light.

“Ducks,” she answered. “Lots and lots of ducks.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “I promise you, I will find you more ducks. Next time you feel like crying, let me know, and we’ll go hunting for ducks together—without pistols, naturally,” he added.

Her smile wavered, reminding him once again that he was the one reason for her sadness. Fear gripped his chest just as a heavy weight of agony pressed down on him, paralyzing his thoughts. Would he never be rid of the guilt? Just watching Sai brought back all the sweeping memories of last night. He’d never felt bad about a kiss before. In fact, he hadn’t even felt like a terrible person for kissing married women, so why did it now feel like the guilt was eating him alive?

She picked a flower next to her and twisted it between her fingers. He was going insane, because in that moment he even felt jealousy for the tiny flower. What would it feel like for her fingers to twist into his hair during an embrace? His body warmed at the inappropriate thoughts swarming around in his head.

The old Nicholas Renwick would have laughed in his face; he was aroused by a flower. A flower! He really was going mad. He had done and seen it all, yet the way this woman held the particular flower between her hands was enough to inspire him to write sonnets. He cursed himself silently and took a deep cleansing breath.

“Are you well, my lord?” Sai asked.

Naturally, the breath he just inhaled was thick with her scent, the smell of sugared lemons and the purest green grass.

“Fine,” he croaked.

“Are you feeling ill again?” She lifted her hand, though still gloved, bless the Lord, to his forehead and tilted her head. “You don’t feel warm.”

He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by an approaching man. “Do my eyes deceive me, or do I see the reformed rake Lord Renwick having a private chat with the talk of the ton?”

Nicholas closed his eyes in protest; maybe if he couldn’t see Rawlings, then Rawlings would become bored and disappear back into the hole he crawled out of.

He opened one eye and saw both Rawlings and Sai staring curiously at him. Mad, he was mad. He pushed himself off the ground and shook Rawlings’ hand. “I’m afraid the rumors are true.”

He nodded toward Sai who curtsied sweetly. When Rawlings gingerly took her hand and kissed it, his eyes spent too much time focused on her bosom than on her hand like propriety dictated. Nicholas’s mood darkened.

Rawlings lifted a calculating eye toward Nicholas and smiled before returning his attention back to Sai. “I see for once the rumors have been understated; you are far lovelier than even the most exaggerated stories have suggested.”

She blushed brightly and flashed him a devastating smile. Why didn’t she smile at Nicholas like that? Is that what she wanted? Compliments? Well, she would be waiting a long time. Although he sometimes wondered if Sai’s attitude had to do more with being shy than with being conceited, he wasn’t going to take the chance she had an inflated view of herself and add to it. Especially since she had men like Rawlings ready to cut open their chests and offer their hearts to her.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” Sai crooned, hooking her arm with Rawlings. “Do tell me how you know Lord Renwick.”

This is going to be painful, Nicholas thought, falling into step beside the two.

The next ten minutes managed to become the bane of Nicholas’s existence. He suffered through Sai’s rich laughter each time Rawlings shared a story of how Nicholas pulled pranks on the ladies of the ton as a boy. Rawlings even shared the unfortunate event which took place when Nicholas mistook one of the women as his mother and grabbed her from behind, only to be surprised by the notorious flirt who prophesied he would become a lady killer in his later years. That is exactly what happened; although, now he felt he should be killing men, especially men bearing the name Rawlings.

“I must take my leave,” Rawlings said at last. He bent low to kiss Sai’s gloved hand, then leaned in to whisper in Nicholas’s ear, “This is one chit I wouldn’t mind relieving you of, old man. I’ll be waiting for you to mess this up.” He slapped him on the back and waved off leaving a stunned Nicholas behind.

“What did he say to you? You look positively radiant,” Sai inquired, hooking her arm in his. Its effect was felt immediately; he relaxed and was able to act somewhat like himself again.

“Nothing of consequence. Just an old joke between friends.” He looked at her penetrating glance and sighed, “You seemed to take to Rawlings. Would you rather be with him than me?” He didn’t mean for the question to sound accusing, but it came out that way nonetheless.

“Are you so unsure of yourself that a man like Sir Rawlings would be competition?” she snapped.

He laughed to hide his doubt. “Of course not. You do know my reputation, do you not?” He wasn’t playing fair.

She stopped and faced him. “What I know, is only what I’ve been told, and I can only assume from what I’ve been told, that your reputation is a direct result of your insecurity and inability to commit to one woman for your entire life. So yes, I do prefer Sir Rawlings to you, if only for the reason he knows exactly what he wants and goes after it!”