“Another?” Sara asked before realizing how sarcastic it would sound. She opened her mouth to apologize, but her aunt smiled in response. She was probably used to Sara speaking before thinking.
“Yes, I know. It seems I’ve done nothing but hide the truth from you and manipulate you, but I do believe your marriage will be a love match—if he lets you in, that is.” So, her aunt also saw how much he guarded himself; she would need to work with him on becoming more vulnerable.
“I want to talk to you about your parents.”
Sara’s stomach clenched at the thought of her parents. Their treatment of her, as if she was an unwelcome stranger in her own home. “What about my parents?”
“You have to understand, my dear. They did the best they could, given the circumstances. I owe them so much more than I’m willing to admit.” Her aunt was beginning to pale as the conversation drew on. “I was so young when it happened. I had no idea the consequences of my choice. I wanted to marry an earl or a viscount. I had no other options.”
“What are you talking about?” Sara whispered, leaning toward her now noticeably frail aunt. She was speaking in riddles.
“I fell in love; I let the duke seduce me with his smooth words. He always joked about wanting to marry, but I took him seriously. When I found out I was with child, he offered to fund a family to adopt the child, so nobody would get wind of the scandal. In my heart I couldn’t do that, so I took the child into the country to be raised by my sister and her husband." Sara's aunt stared at her own trembling hands. She paused, as if struggling with something. When she continued, it was by pure force of will, dredging out the words that were so obviously weighing heavily on her. "It wasn’t until recently, a few short weeks ago, I realized the treatment you were actually receiving. At the time I was so shocked to see your state that I was angry. Angry at myself for not being brave; angry that you were more beautiful than I could have imagined; angry that I missed your entire childhood.”
Sara's mind reeled, What was the woman saying? Lady Fenton shook her head fiercely, “I never meant for you to believe you were ugly. I was the one who was ugly with my words and actions. It was too easy to take my anger out on you. But since you've come to stay with me, as I have watched you handle yourself in all these dreadful circumstances, I have seen that you are everything I never was and more. You are far more beautiful and kind than I could ever dream to be. I—“ She cut off abruptly and lifted a handkerchief to her eye.
Sara couldn’t think; she couldn’t speak. All those years, all those horrible years of enduring unfair treatment from her parents. She thought they despised her and viewed her as useless, ugly, and different. No wonder she looked nothing like her family! She had been living with an aunt and uncle the entire time! She wanted to scream, My entire life has been a lie! But then again, hadn’t she always known? Did she ever really feel connected to her family? No, she was more attuned to the families in books; the ones which didn’t exist. In her heart, she felt nothing for those who raised her. They abused her verbally and treated her like a slave.
“I am so proud of you, Sara. And I do truly believe this match with Lord Renwick will be perfect for you. I am sorry to say the money I left you was taken by your parents, when I signed you over to their care.”
“Why didn’t you come sooner?” Sara asked calmly. Thoughts of how badly she’d been treated made her want to cry at the injustice.
“I’m ashamed to admit I only recently told my husband of your existence. I told myself you were happier without me. When I heard of your sisters’ elopement and your parents’ need for funds, I scolded myself for not checking up on you more consistently. I told myself I would see how you fared and leave money with your parents. Instead I found myself begging your mother to allow you to come back with me for a season. They won't release their hold on you until you are married, my dear. Then you will be your husband’s property, and you will be free of them.”
“I need to think about all of this. I need…time,” Sara said slowly, wondering how she was able to sound so calm when everything inside her, everything she knew about herself, was in utter chaos.
“I understand completely, my dear; I only ask one thing…”
Sara met Lady Fenton's gaze.
“Don’t speak of this to Renwick just yet. He won’t take the news very well.”
Sara laughed bitterly. “I’m certain he’ll take it better than I am. Surely keeping it a secret from him will only cause more grief.”
Her aunt’s eyes glistened with guilt-ridden tears as she fingered the handle of the teacup in her hands. Lifting her head she half-whispered, “He won’t take it well, Sara, because your father was the duke Nicholas killed.”
Sara froze. Had she heard her aunt wrong? No, the tension in the room gave way to the truth coming from her aunt’s lips. Her father…was a duke, and not just any duke—the same duke her fiancé had killed in the infamous duel two years ago. The knowledge would devastate Nicholas; the truth had the power to destroy everything they had struggled to build these past few weeks. If he found out before the wedding, he would surely bow out for fear the match would do nothing but destroy what was left of her reputation. The guilt alone would be too much for Nicholas to bear on his own, and he already had a lion's share of guilt on his shoulders. No, she had to keep it from him, until the right time.
“When Lord Renwick and I marry, my parents—or I should say, aunt and uncle, they'll no longer have a legal hold over me?”
Lady Fenton looked relieved. “Yes, Sara. That’s correct. You will be the property of Renwick, and you can stay here. They will have no claim on your money or anything else, for that matter. I hope, in due time, to restore your title, the title you deserve. You are still the daughter of a duke.”
Sara nodded mutely. The daughter of a duke. All those years dreaming and wishing she were someone else, and she had always wanted to be a princess. At the time she wished for any sort of escape, if it meant that she could live as someone else or be someone else. Now, it seemed so cruel when the truth was laid out in front of her.
“I look like you,” Sara finally choked out; she hadn’t the courage to look her aunt in her eyes, but knew her aunt’s face was heavy with emotion.
“Yes, my dear. You do. You also resemble the man I once loved.”
Sara licked her lips to ask the question she had been dreading, “What was the duke’s name?” She corrected herself adding, “My father’s name?”
Lady Fenton smiled weakly. “William Blaire the Duke of Haines.”
The name was familiar, even to Sara. The Duke of Haines had been one of the most widely known dukes of the ton before his death. He had more money than the rest of the lords put together. He also had a notorious reputation of being a philanderer and a shrewd businessman. No wonder his wife wanted to get away from him. She had to be no older than sixteen when they married. That meant the duke was in his early forties when he died.
“He was five and forty when he died, my dear,” Lady Fenton said softly. “I was a mere child when we were together, only sixteen myself. His bride was sixteen when they married, leaving a large gap between their years. She, of course, never knew about me. Nobody knew about me. Like I said, my own husband had no idea until a year ago.”
“Why tell me now? Why now?” Sara’s voice wavered with emotion. She wanted nothing more than to sink into Nicholas's arms and tell him the whole story. She ached for his comforting touch, but willed herself to remain strong here with her aunt… her mother.
“It is time, Sara. Time you know the truth. You are lovely. Everything about you is pure and untouched. You have a pure heart and innocent nature, and you must know that you have the rarest beauty, my dear—I can’t change the past, but I hope to change your future.”
Sara nodded, unable to speak anymore. “I’m tired,” she managed to say.
“I should say so,” Lady Fenton whispered. “Sleep well, my dear. I will send Davina when it is time to dress for dinner.”
>
Sara yawned and tumbled into her bed, not bothering to remove her soiled afternoon dress or her walking shoes. It had been a wonderful day with Nicholas and a long painful afternoon with her aunt… her mother. What was she to call her now? That was the least of her worries…she had a wedding to plan. All she needed to do was to make it through the vows, so Nicholas would have no way to back out. Her heart was too involved with his now; to pull out of the wedding now would surely kill her.
Exhaustion swept over her, and she sighed heavily. She had no idea when it happened. It may have even been the first moment they touched, but she loved him. Sara knew he may never reciprocate, but she clung to the hope her love would be enough for both of them. It must be enough, especially with the troubled waters ahead. The ton could somehow gain information about her past and use it against them. But for now, she was content to fall asleep thinking about Nicholas’s deep kisses and tender touches, and about a time in her life when things were not this complicated.
Chapter Fifteen
Nicholas woke up refreshed. Today he would be getting married. Sara had done an excellent job of keeping things private; it made his heart constrict at the thought of her sacrifice. She was marrying him in a small ceremony rather than for the ton to see—a girl like her should be seen on her wedding day. He did have some surprises for her, surprises that would surely seal her fate as the future Countess of Renwick.
He tried to wipe the indelible smile off his face but failed. He couldn’t help how happy he was. Not only was he getting married, but little Duncan had warmed up to Sara like a child would to his own mother. It was truly touching seeing them together. Maybe he wouldn’t have to annul the marriage after all. Maybe by the end of the year, he would feel like they were a family, and stop punishing himself for his past sins. God knew Nicholas wanted someone to love him and someone whom he could love back. He was on the road to that kind of love with Sara. They only needed more time, the time afforded to them by pledging themselves to each other today.
Hopefully the time he spent wooing her after the wedding would suffice to heal his shame-ridden heart and create the possibility for a lasting marriage, without the nagging scandal that now hung over them. If it were only up to him, he would commit to eternity this instant, but he feared his selfish motives would lead to more pain for Sara. He was still deeply wounded, not sure if he would ever be whole enough to be a good husband. Yet he felt a bit of hope that possibly Sara had faith in him that he could be the man of her dreams. The man she deserved.
He only wished Sara’s parents could make it to the wedding. When he questioned her about their attendance, she turned quiet and changed the subject. Not at all like the Sara he’d grown to care for over the past few days. Nicholas decided to allow the subject to drop. After all, they hadn’t provided her a dowry, so it was not surprising they cared so little about their daughter's nuptials. Obviously, they weren’t a close family. He wanted to remedy that as soon as possible, when he made his surprise visit to them after the honeymoon.
Nicholas stretched out of his bed and went to the bath. He wasn’t one to admit his affinity for the bath, considering only women bathed daily, but it felt good on his sore muscles. He had been up late the past few nights making sure everything was in place for his new bride. He had paid a very high price to have her room redecorated but it was to be a surprise for her. The finishing preparations were completed early that morning, and his body was paying for it.
He washed himself and hummed a tune then his valet came in to dress him. Sara had chosen a beautiful velvet coat with gold buttons for him to wear. She had no idea the gold was solid, but it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. He wanted to spare no expense. Lady Fenton actually shed a tear when he also paid for Sara's wedding dress. In all honesty, Lady Fenton was more emotional than Sara. You’d think she was the one getting married with as much fuss as she had made over the decorations and food.
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 worrie
d 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.
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