The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(57)

“You should speak to your wife, my lord. She has much to say.”

Nicholas chuckled. He suddenly felt lighter but frightened at the same time. He remembered how he hurt Sara. It would be nothing short of a miracle for her to forgive him.



****



Sara tossed and turned for hours before she finally fell asleep, and when she did, she had beautiful dreams of a little boy dancing with her in the wildflowers. She looked up to see Nicholas running toward them, arms outstretched.

She screamed with delight in her sleep, but it was enough of a jolt to wake her up. She nearly fell off the bed, then with a gut wrenching sob began crying all over again. It was absolute torture. She could still smell him, still feel him, she could—

She looked around the room, everything looked in place but somehow something was off. It was when she heard a slight knock on the door that she realized the reason for her nervousness.

Nicholas, in all his glory was standing in the doorway with tears streaming down his own face. She tried to make words form at her mouth but found that she couldn’t do it. He had something in his hand, although she couldn’t tell what it was, it seemed like a piece of paper. He looked at her and smiled a beautiful smile, almost too beautiful, making her want to pinch herself. Yet she was too transfixed to say anything.

Wordlessly, he walked to the fireplace and threw the paper in, then walked over to her and said, “Tomorrow, we’ll talk tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

She felt like pulling him down into the bed right that instant, but she was still too hurt, too vulnerable from the things he said. He said he didn’t want her. It hurt more than she could imagine, and then he abandoned her. Now he was apologizing, but frankly, it was hardly doing the trick. She crossed her arms and nodded as he left the room.

When the door closed she walked over to the fireplace to look at the burning papers. Maybe it was her dreams, but it appeared that the very papers burning were the annulment papers, which was obviously wishful thinking on her part. She had left them in London with strict instructions to send them off. Had they not done so? Unless someone took them, or maybe Nicholas went and fetched them himself?

It was too much; she was giving herself a headache. She surely wasn’t going to sleep now, but she lay down anyway, for the baby.

Hours later, Sara was so exhausted, her eyelids closed involuntarily. Her only problem was getting comfortable. Earlier she’d been nearly freezing, now it felt as if someone had stuck her in a hot bath tub without an escape, she threw off the covers of her bed or at least tried, but she felt so weak. She panicked when she realized her entire body felt heavy and hot.

She had a fever.

She wasn’t sure how she knew except for the fact that she was burning up inside, and it wasn’t good. To have a high fever during pregnancy wasn’t safe for her or for the baby. She started thinking about her blue-eyed baby and began crying.

Dear God, protect him, protect him. She kept saying over and over again even though she wasn’t even sure it was a boy. The last clear thought she had was of Nicholas putting the annulment papers in the fire. “I love you,” she whispered out loud then fell into a deep, hot sleep.

Nicholas waited for hours the next morning. Every time he asked someone to check on Sara, they just shrugged it off and said it was normal for a woman in her condition to need sleep.

Her condition? What condition would that be? He kept wracking his brain for a reason until he finally found one that made sense. Not that he wanted to acknowledge it. He was just getting ready to pound down to Lady Fenton’s room when he heard sobbing from upstairs.

He ran up just in time for Lady Fenton to fall into his arms. “My God, my God, oh my dear God, I don’t know what to do!” Hysterical, she was pushing Nicholas over the edge of sanity as well.

“What’s wrong?” He shook her shoulders until she finally looked at him with quivering lips.

Her head continued to shake as she spoke, “It’s Sara. She has a fever.”





Chapter Twenty-Six



The heart within Nicholas’s chest felt as though it had stopped pumping for a while. Fevers weren’t uncommon, but it was still a scary thought. People died daily of fevers, especially when they let hair-brained physicians bleed them out. He cursed under his breath and burst into the room.

Little Sara was sprawled across the bed with heavy blankets toppling over her. “Take these off!” he ordered the maids. They seemed too scared to move so he did it for them. He pointed to the one closest to him. “Get me some cold water and rags, now!” His voice boomed throughout the house, the maid nearly tripped on her way out.

Nicholas went and put the fire out then opened the window to Sara’s room. She needed fresh air, and he needed to keep her body temperature down; that much was true. He tried to look in control and strong, but he felt like his past was catching up with him.

Hadn’t his first love, the girl he fought for and had Duncan with, hadn’t she died of scarlet fever? Although this was obviously not scarlet fever, it still seemed painfully ironic. He groaned as he pushed the hair from Sara’s face. Her body was soaked with sweat. Had he not seen her merely hours before? He should have stayed with her. Maybe if he would have stayed… Well, if he would have stayed, he might have been sick too. But it should be him in the bed not her; she didn’t deserve this.