The Ugly Duckling Debutante (House of Renwick #1)(8)

A smirk played on Nicholas’s lips. How odd that a similar occurrence happened last night to a young lady at the masquerade. It would be good to keep those two away from each other considering they were both so trusting.

There was an uncomfortable silence, and the room seemed tense with unspoken sentiment. Things which had been hidden in the chasm between the two of them for years threatened to explode into the silence. He couldn’t very well deny his cousin after all she had done for him. “I sense this is not so much a request as instructions for when to arrive at your residence?”

“I would never force you to do anything against your will, Nicholas, but I would be most grateful if you would agree to my request.” Her demeanor expressed an uncharacteristic solemnity which spoke volumes to him. It was important to her and within his power to grant. How could he say no?

“Shall we say this afternoon?” he questioned.

With that, Lady Fenton pushed out of her seat and clapped her hands together. “Thank you, Nicholas! Thank you!”

Ordinarily, no one dared to utter his Christian name. Lady Fenton was the only exception, but she hadn’t resorted to using his name in years. It pained him to hear it flow so easily from her lips now, when in the past it had been uttered as a curse.

“I will have her ready. Oh, and Nicholas?” she added as she walked toward the door.

He lifted his head in feigned annoyance.

“Do try not to fall in love with her.”

His bitter laugh should have been answer enough, but the strange look in her eyes gave him pause. So he added, “Believe me, marriage is the last thing I want from anyone.” Of course she would know that. She knew everything. How long would the sins of his past haunt him?

Sadness seemed to wash over her face, and she nodded numbly. “This afternoon then, Nicholas. I’ll see myself out.”

Nicholas went straight to his liquor cabinet and poured a brandy. Unfortunately the familiar sting of alcohol did nothing to squelch his churning stomach. How could he have been so stupid?

He had kissed the girl!

In a darkened hallway.

Without a chaperone.

Blast! He slammed his empty cup onto the table, and for a moment, contemplated allowing his head to follow suit.

After all he had been through—would he never learn? Weren’t his past mistakes enough to keep him from pursuing any type of woman? Let alone one who reminded him so much of his mistakes. The same innocent kisses, the same captivating laughter—all the things which led him down the path of destruction. The path which forever changed his life.

At least his tutelage of Lady Fenton’s niece would be a welcome distraction. Hopefully now he wouldn’t be spending his nights in sensual torture thinking about what he could have, or would have done had he found that beautiful creature the night before.

No, he was better off alone. The sooner he moved on with life, the better. Plus, who was to say the chit his cousin had taken under her wing wasn’t going to be at least mildly amusing? One could only hope.





Chapter Four



After two days in her aunt’s house, Sara had arrived at three conclusions. One, the viscount never showed his face unless it was mealtime. Two, her aunt had more money than she knew what to do with. And three, there was absolutely nothing to do in this God forsaken house. She asked if she could go for a walk, but apparently proper young ladies did not walk about unchaperoned.

Not that her parents had minded in the least that Sara went for walks on a regular basis. In hindsight, it was probably in hopes that someone would kidnap her and relieve them of the burden of having to feed an extra mouth.

Negativity really wasn’t her forte, but being as bored as she was, she couldn’t help it. Her aunt hadn’t any books either! What was one to do? Sit and sew? She would probably poke an eye out. Her parents hadn’t wasted any time or effort on her education. Everything she knew was from watching her sisters’ lessons and reading. All in all she was self-taught. She had no talent to speak of, therefore had no music to practice or pictures to draw. The only highlights of her country life had been daydreaming in the fields, walking, and writing her own stories—all of which, according to aunt, were unacceptable.

She let out a long sigh as she slowly descended the stairs, hoping to pass away time with her methodic walking. This day was to be the beginning of her high society training with the mysterious cousin. All morning her aunt drilled her on the finer points of how to walk with her head held high, smile behind a fan, eat with the right utensils, and curtsy like a courtesan. She would inevitably explode from sheer tedium. What she wouldn’t give for a field to run barefoot in and a novel to keep her warm at night. She felt incomplete without the written word; although, it was good for her to study Scripture more lately. It was like a balm to her wounded soul, especially considering the events of the previous night. How she had managed to get herself in that predicament was beyond her. She had already been compromised after her first night! If her aunt ever caught wind of the incident, she would be furious!

Just then, her aunt’s booming voice echoed through the hall, mingling with the unmistakable low voice of a man, which sounded like warm honey. It was deep and velvet. Just listening to it felt like a caress to her heart. She braced herself for their meeting, knowing that one look at her and any man with such a voice would most likely flee, or worse—he would pity her.