“All of us!” he snapped. “Now go pack Duncan’s things and bring along your own; we leave in an hour.”
He had a wife to see.
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time everyone loaded the luggage into the two waiting carriages, a ghastly two hours had passed. Nicholas felt he would surely die on the spot if they didn’t get a move on. As it was, they would probably have a good three-hour ride to the house. Although he hadn’t visited in years, it was oddly enough where most of his favorite childhood memories had taken place.
He tried to stay awake, but the stress of the day took its toll. He woke up when the carriage came to a halt in front of his old country mansion. Not willing to wait another minute he ran out of the carriage and burst into the house. Several servants jumped at his arrival, others gave him a look of pure rage which he was guessing he deserved.
What he didn’t expect was Lady Fenton to be up taking tea. It had to be close to midnight; what the devil was she doing up drinking tea?
“Took you long enough,” she scolded, not looking up from her needlework. “I had no idea it would be seven full weeks before you’d get your head out of your—“
“Please,” he interrupted, holding a hand up, “save your lecture, I’ve punished myself enough these past few weeks.”
Lady Fenton let out an unladylike snort. “I find that hard to believe considering you were away in Scotland while Sara found out.”
Her mouth shut quite quickly, quicker than he had ever seen Lady Fenton shut her mouth, and that was saying a lot, considering she never actually shut her mouth. Her talking was as normal as some people’s need for air.
“When Sara found out what?” he asked. Something in the way she shut herself up told him it had nothing to do with the earlier news.
“Let me tell you a story,” she said after a long pause. She patted the seat next to her and he sat. She started very slowly but as the story progressed he felt worse and worse about how he treated Sara. Lady Fenton shed more light onto the affair and Sara’s situation and why she felt the need to send her away to the countryside.
“I had no idea,” she exclaimed through choked sobs, “that they would treat her that way, that I would be guilty of treating my own flesh and blood that way, but I despised her, too, for what she represented; for what I couldn’t have.” She put her hand over Nicholas’s. “Ever since Sara’s birth, I haven’t been able to conceive. I know it’s not proper to talk about such things, but after Sara’s birth it has been nothing but crushed expectations and dreams.” She took another deep breath. “I hated Sara for showing me how awful I had been. I even allowed her mother to go on calling her ugly. I told myself it was to protect Sara, but really it was because she reminded me of him.”
Nicholas felt his heart drop. The him she was referring to was most definitely the him Nicholas had killed two years ago. Lady Fenton looked up into his eyes. “Oh dear boy, don’t you dare think he didn’t have it coming. He was a terrible man. I know you were only defending yourself, and that girl didn’t help by so eagerly jumping into your bed either. She knew exactly what she was doing.”
Nicholas knew she was right. Both the duke and duchess had known what they were doing. And so had Nicholas, which made it worse.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself forever. We all have our demons to deal with. You just have to face yours head-on sooner than the rest of us.”
He sighed. “Why do people keep calling them demons?”
She put her hand across his again. “Because they control us. They make choices for us, good and bad. We let our choices in the past dictate our future. It isn’t fair that because of what has happened to you, you no longer move on with the blessing that’s been given to you. Sara meant you no harm; you must see that. She had no idea. Can you imagine the shock? The week of your wedding?”
Nicholas hadn’t thought of that, but then again he hadn’t been thinking about Sara, he’d been thinking about himself and how it had made him feel like a fool. How he felt manipulated and used for his money and title. When in fact, how must she have felt? He felt sick again and paled. Lady Fenton gave him the eye that said, “Do not throw up on this beautiful loveseat or I shall strike you dead on the spot.” He took some calming breaths before he stood.
“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 kno
w 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.
Sara’s eyes blazed open as she tried to get out of bed. “Nicholas!” Frantic, he needed to calm her down. He looked to Lady Fenton and began soothing Sara with soft words. By some miracle, she closed her eyes again. She muttered something under her breath. Nicholas leaned in closer to hear.
The words she uttered caused fear like he had never known in his life.
“The baby, Nicholas, the baby,” Nicholas for the second time in two days began sobbing next to his wife.
When his tears dried up, he went outside the room to talk to Lady Fenton. There really was nothing more he could do other than continue to keep her cooled down. Lady Fenton looked strained when he pulled her away from the servant’s ears.
“She’s pregnant?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from crying. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined this scenario. How much of a fool was he? Leaving his pregnant wife while he scoured the Scottish countryside. He wanted someone to shoot him just so he would be put out of his misery.
The tears in Lady Fenton’s eyes returned. “Nicholas, she found out just a while ago. We think she conceived very early on in your relationship.”
“I’ll say,” he muttered.
Lady Fenton ignored his sarcastic comment. “Is she going to live?”
He nodded his head. “She isn’t as hot as she once was, but I…I don’t know about the baby. I’m not a doctor. Only time will tell.”
She nodded her head and pulled him into a hug. “She loves you, you know.”
Nicholas sighed. “I love her, too.” A weight suddenly lifted off his shoulders as he realized that he had loved her all this time.
As if reading his thoughts, Lady Fenton gave him a little squeeze on his shoulders. “My boy, she’s known that long before you were aware of it.”
With that she walked off. He knew she needed sleep. The poor woman swayed on her feet—then again he did, too. He spent the rest of the afternoon reading to Sara from some of the novels in the library. He became obsessive, not even letting the maids dress her. He put on clean bedding and replaced her gown with something more comfortable. At one point he woke her up enough to get her to sit in a cool bath while he washed her hair. She was still delirious, but he wanted her to feel comfortable.
On the second day of the fever, Nicholas was starting to get anxious. She hadn’t gotten worse but she wasn’t getting better either. Having a high fever was not good for the baby at all.
He groaned out loud and set his head on Sara’s arm. “I love you,” he said quietly. The tears came soon after. “I love you so much Sara, do you know that? I need you to snap out of this, to come back. I need you. Duncan needs you. Our baby boy needs you.” At the moment he didn’t care if it was a boy or girl. He merely said the first thing that came to mind. “I need you to be strong, and I need you to live, Sara.” He choked on her name. “I love you…just please.” He fell asleep with his head on her arm. It was the first time since he knew her she was the last name on his lips while he prayed and the only one in his mind when he slept.
***
Sara felt like she had been through a hot nightmare. She only remembered bits and pieces of what took place. The one thing that stood out amongst the chaos was Nicholas’s constant presence. He was almost like her own personal angel sitting watch by her bed. She remembered different stories he told her, and most of all his confession earlier that day. She wanted so badly to take him into her arms and cradle him. She loved him so much; he was so dear to her! Yet she couldn’t move, she was so angry at her own treacherous body that she could scream, instead all she managed was a slow moan.
Slowly but surely her body began to feel cooler until finally she opened her eyes and sighed. She was starving. Somehow Nicholas had gotten into the bed and was lying next to her with his arm across her body. He was sleeping rather possessively, his body language clearly saying, “if anyone touches her, I’ll kill him.”
It made her laugh, which made Nicholas open his eyes. The love Sara saw behind them completely un-did her. With as much strength as she could muster she said, “I love you.”
He closed his eyes quickly, but Sara saw what had already escaped down his cheeks. Tears streamed down his handsome face. He pulled her close and said quietly into her ear, “I love you. I adore you. I need you. I—I…” His words were no more than choked sobs as he rocked her back and forth and cried. “I prayed for the baby,” he finally said.
“He’s fine,” Sara said confidently, even though her voice was still raspy.
He smiled weakly. “How do you know that?”
She made a motion that should have been a shrug but looked more like a twitch. “Call it faith.”
He smiled. “My faithful Sara.”
“Nicholas?”
“Hmm?” His eyes were closed next to her.
“Can we start over?”
He smiled warmly. “I’d like that, but first can you ever forgive me for the things I said to you? It was out of fear, and pride and—“
She laughed which seemed to startle him. “Not that I don’t like you groveling at my feet right now and confessing all your sins—but I did say start over. The past is the past; don’t you think we should just leave it there?”
“Wise woman.” He kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for a better wife.”
“And I couldn’t have asked for a wiser husband, I do believe I have you to thank for saving my life?”
He sobered immediately. “God—not me, I take no credit, my prayer life however has blossomed to extravagant proportions.”
She managed a weak laugh and held his hand. “What should we call him?”
He looked at her curiously. “Our child?”
Sara felt weightless as she thought about spending her life with Nicholas, Duncan, and the new baby. She had no doubt the baby would be healthy. If anything the baby would be stronger after helping her fight such a battle.
“Let’s name him Samuel,” he said, invading her thoughts.
Tears welled in her eyes. “I think that’s a perfect name.”
He laughed. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”
So she did. She slept for the better part of three days, falling in and out of sleep until she was so tired of being tired, she thought she would scream.
During the afternoon of the third day, Nicholas paid a visit. Glued to her side for the past few days, it left her l
ittle time for herself; not that she minded it one bit. She had after all spent countless weeks without him by her side.
“Why am I not surprised to see you?” She laughed.
Nicholas pretended to be wounded as he threw his hand across his heart. “Oh so you don’t want your surprise then?”
She jerked up in her bed. “Surprise?”
He shook his head. “Well, I guess if you’re going to behave that way then—“
“Nicholas Renwick don’t you dare mess with the sick!”
“Fine, fine.” He put up his hands innocently. “You’re a heavy sleeper, by the way. I was able to get this done without you even stirring.”
She rolled her eyes.
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