The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(43)

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?