The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(60)

“What’s so funny?” Sara asked as she began rubbing oil down her arms.

He choked on his words. “Absolutely nothing.”

The bath did look quite enticing. Before she had time to object, he had pulled off his clothes and splashed into the tub across from her. His smile turned seductive as he took the oil from her hands began slowly rubbing down her arms. He felt insanity creeping on as he realized that it might be a great while before she trusted him full with her body again. Gently he leaned down to kiss her lips. A lot still needed to be said.

He tried not to tense up, and why should he? His beautiful, forgiving wife was sitting in his lap kissing him. He reluctantly pushed her back and sighed. “Sara, we need to talk.”

“I hate it when you start sentences like that,” she muttered scooting back into the tub. His face held an amused expression as he waited for her to stop scowling.

“I know we said we’d start over, but I can’t live with myself knowing that you’re always going to wonder why I said and did the things I did. I don’t want you to think for one second that the only reason I confessed my love was because I thought you were dying, or because I found out you were pregnant.”

Sara broke eye contact, assuring Nicholas even more that he needed to have this conversation with her. “Sara, look at me.”

She did.

“I am an idiot—all men are, but I think my name still sits on the top of the list.”

She giggled and bit her lip, for once not arguing with his solid reasoning.

“I said those things because I was hurt that you would lie to me. I assumed the worst because, quite honestly, I’ve never let anyone except Lisa in. I was scared, and even more so, I was vulnerable and didn’t like being put in that position. I was already on my way to loving you and when I found all that out, I was terrified that you were like every other girl. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, but my own stupidity and pride kept me from seeing you for who you really are.”

He scooted forward and scooped her up into his arms.

“And who am I?” she asked quietly, still looking away.

“You’re caring, forgiving, wonderful, and beautiful; you are quite honestly the most amazing person I have ever met. Looking at you now, I can’t believe how blind I was. I was so worried about myself, still allowing the past to dictate my choices for the future, telling myself I shouldn’t be happy and that you couldn’t have a place in my already broken heart.” His voice felt hoarse and thick. “When I went to Scotland my only desire was to run away and lick my wounds. I felt like you deserved to be rejected and hurt for being dishonest. I had no idea about your past, nor did I care to even listen. I was too worried about myself.” He suddenly felt even worse than before. Only the scum of the earth had such selfish tendencies. “What kind of father am I? I even left Duncan in London!” He rubbed his eyes with his hands, willing the moisture to stay within his eyes.

“Nicholas,” Sara said gently. “Nicholas look at me.”

He composed himself and looked into her piercing gaze. “The way I’m looking at you is the way that your son looks at you. You’re a fantastic father, a great husband, and this look I’m giving you is a look of love, forgiveness, honesty, and strength. We weren’t made to live alone or without wounds. We were never promised we wouldn’t go through storms in life; the only promise was that after the storm there would be a rainbow. Do you believe that? Because I do. You’re my rainbow, and I’d like to think Duncan and I, as well as this little one—” She pointed to her flat stomach. “—are your rainbows, too.” She reached out and cupped his face. “You were forgiven before you even asked.”

It was then Nicholas Renwick’s heart began to heal again. The minute his wife offered him the forgiveness and love he so desperately sought after all his life. The love he didn’t do anything to deserve but was given to him despite his many shortcomings.

He whispered the words against her cheek. “I love you.”

She laughed softly as she guided his hand to her stomach. “I know.”





Epilogue



Five years later



“Samuel!” Nicholas bellowed through the hall. “Samuel, get down here this instant!” His aggressive five-year-old proceeded to run down the stairs at lightning speed, missing the last one with all the grace that a young child could posses and promptly fell on his bottom.

Mischievous blue eyes looked up at Nicholas, melting his heart instantly. What had he been so upset about again? Oh right, Samuel had single-handedly cut all the hair off his sisters’ dolls and then fed it to the chickens.

Nicholas’s temper returned. The poor girls were only two and a half, and they cried for hours!

“Samuel, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Samuel bit his lip perplexed at such a question or so it seemed. “They had ugly hair,” he stated dryly. Leave it to Sara to give birth to a son that had more wit and dry sarcasm than the two of them combined. Nicholas pinched his nose and rolled his eyes. “Son, listen to me.”

Samuel nodded his head and crossed his arms, in the exact same fashion Nicholas habitually did when he was concentrating. “One day you’re going to want girls to like you and girls like to be treated like princesses. If you treat your sisters cruelly, then you won’t learn how to treat girls nicely. Then no one will want to marry you. You don’t want that, do you?”