Chapter Eleven
Did she accept him then? Was this her way of telling him as much? He felt too vulnerable. The air in his lungs whooshed out as her hand reached out to touch his. Her words affected him—no they ruined him. He felt as if she would give up the entire world to make him happy; how did this happen? How did they begin to care for one another? It couldn’t happen; he wouldn’t let it. It would destroy her. She must understand how potentially dangerous he was for her.
“Did you find any other suitors to your liking? All beliefs aside, I guess that a woman of your nature bores easily. Once we marry, I will be happy to turn the other way if you find your fancy elsewhere.”
Of all the horrible things to say, that had to be the worst he could have come up with. He felt immediate remorse after the words came out, but it was too late. Tears were already forming in little pools around her eyes. She pulled her hand back as if stung and rose from the bench.
“Wait!” He pulled her down into his lap. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” He couldn’t speak; he was useless when women became emotional. Her tears were now slowly dropping down her cheeks cascading over her sensuous lips. Instantly he wanted to pull her close and lick the salt from them. Obviously he was going mad, for it was remarkable that he would find her tears arousing, but then again, everything about her made his body respond in a physical way, why not her tears?
She tried to pull away, but he held her firm until she relaxed against his chest. “I never meant to hurt you; in fact, my intention is only to protect you. If you only understood—if you only knew!”
“Knew what?” she choked. “How much you despise me? How much you hate me? You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to want me either. Will anything ever satisfy you?”
“I don’t know. I wish…” He made a sudden grab for her wrists.
She tried to pull away again. This was not going well. Before a thought of propriety could stop him, he pulled her into a deep kiss. It seemed to be the only way to silence both of them, and one of the only ways he could show her exactly how he felt, even if it meant she would know it was a part of him she would never possess. She would have passion in her life, yes, but she would never have his heart. She deserved one that wasn’t already worn and broken. After all, how could he offer her something less than whole? It wasn’t romantic nor was it fair. It had been ruined so long ago. Years of buried emotions and secrets threatened to spill out of him. His heart told him he could trust her with his secret; his head said he should have walked away when he was still able.
He tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth and smiled as she moaned. He kissed down her neck and realized his hands had ideas of their own they tangled into her hair and pulled. His logical side faded as he realized that neither of them were stopping. He should have stopped. It would have been wiser, but she was like a drug to him. The more he kissed her, the more he felt whole, as wrong as that sounded.
So he pushed her further than he should have. He pulled her into his lap until she was nearly straddling him then growled when she arched her back against him. He kissed down her neck to her chest, and down her arms. Sparks of energy flew between them. Reality no longer held them. His fingers caught onto her bodice, and he desperately pulled it down. He reached down to caress her chest, then, as if being suddenly hit on the side of the head, he froze.
She did the same. Both of them sat there for what seemed like hours before he said something. He had by then, of course, removed his hands from her bodice and returned it to its rightful place covering her body. Or most of it, for that matter; he felt his body tense as the fuzzy haze of passion lifted and his eyes met hers. Her hair was completely undone, and her dress, although not ripped, was rumpled in all the obvious places.
I’m a complete monster.
What Christian man nearly steals a girl’s innocence in the garden weeks before their arranged marriage? He felt like a fool, a dirty fool. Had he really changed? The way Sai made him feel caused some sort of animal to release inside him. He had nearly stolen something which wasn’t his. He had shamed her—shamed himself. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her in the eyes again, and then he felt her fingers on his face. She was still sitting in his lap, although this time more appropriately then before.
“Do you want to marry me?” she asked, still a little breathless.
It was a brave question, but then again, Sai was a brave woman. Any idiot could see that. There came a time in every gentleman’s life when he needed to make a choice—to be a man or to cower like a dog. Nicholas felt like his time had come. How could he answer her, yet still protect her? He couldn’t offer her what other men could offer, surely she could see that. If only she knew the reasons behind his reputation. If she knew the anger which fed his rakish passion, the reason he wasn’t whole enough to be her husband.
“Sai, I would never marry if it weren’t for you. I will marry you. Not because I love you. Although I will admit to being dangerously attracted to you.” He smiled. “But because propriety requires me to, and because, honestly, if I don’t marry you, the physical side of me might actually spontaneously combust. I want you like I've never wanted anyone in my entire life. But like I said before, love is not lust, nor do I believe they can ever co-exist.”
Sai became still and silent. “Fine.”
“Fine? Just fine?” His voice was thick with emotion and turmoil.
“I’m sorry. Did you want me to say anything else?”
“Say that you hate me. Say that I disgust you. Say that your reputation is ruined because of me. Say anything but fine!” He was yelling now. “You deserve a chance for love, can’t you see that? A man would be a fool not to fall in love with you, Sai!”
Her shocked expression told him he should have kept that last part to himself. “Any man excluding myself, of course,” he quickly added.
“Meaning you're incapable of love?” she retorted. “In that case, you were correct the first time. You are a fool.”
He licked his lips. “Sai, I can’t love. I won’t. All I know is lust; it’s what I was made for. I became a Christian hoping to salvage what portion of my heart I have left. I find love to be weakening and humiliating. I have done too much wrong and had too much wrong done to me to be able to truly love someone else. The way you want to be loved.”
Nicholas’ resolve weakened when he noticed the look of hurt in her eyes. “Confound it all! I don’t understand you, Sai! What do you want from me? I assure you, as the grass is green, I have nothing to give. Nothing!”
She pushed back in obvious shock at his outrage, but how was she to know the secrets that darkened his soul? The reason he couldn’t deserve someone like her was for her own protection. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the secret for fear of rejection. How had he gotten himself into this situation? Either he married her or kept the truth from her in order to protect her, all the while risking his heart—not that he hadn’t already thrown it into her lap—or he could reject her for her own good.
His throat constricted, making it difficult for him to speak without his speech wavering with the emotion threatening to explode from him. He couldn’t continue leaving so many parts of his life out from her. Sooner or later she would find out. The truth always came out. Yet he couldn’t help but silently pray it would never be so, for the truth would destroy any future they had together.
“There are things you don’t know. Things I can’t tell you, in order to protect everyone involved.”
Sai looked devastated. “Does marriage scare you so badly that you would go to such extremes to scare me away?”
“They aren’t extremes, Sai. They are truths. The world we live in is not a happy place filled with flowers and chocolates. It’s dark and dangerous. I am not good. I know there is forgiveness. Trust me, I’ve spent the past two years trying to forgive myself, but I couldn’t bear it if for some reason you could not find it in your heart to forgive me as well. I swore I would never put a woman in this position. I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair. It would be better for you to marry a duke, better for me to marry some country maiden who would be happy just to marry a titled gentleman, regardless of the scandal.”
Sai’s face turned pale. She stumbled out of his lap and lept to her feet. She began pacing in front of him like a roving lion. “So you would marry a country maiden over me? A plain girl with no connections, no title, no fortune?”
“Yes!” he said loudly. Finally she understood. “I won’t be able to hide it much longer. In fact, I’m surprised others haven’t caught wind of the scandal yet, but it would do irreparable harm to your reputation.”
“What choice do I have? You’ve compromised me. Or don’t you remember? Does your honor not extend that far?”
He sighed. This was going to hurt her, but he had to say it. “And it’s for that reason alone, Sai, I have agreed to marry you. Yes, I want your body, but I can’t allow myself to care about your mind, or your heart, or your love. I have no room in my life for it.
Her eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t bring himself to even look in her direction as he said, “We’ll get married next week. The sooner the better. Until then, I’ll do everything in my power to change your mind.” Because I can’t live with the pain I’ll cause you, but I’m still selfish enough to want you.
She ran away, shoes in hand; she hadn’t even tried to put them on. How did the night turn out so awful? Where had he gone wrong—well, actually the better question would be, had he at any time that night handled things right?
Nicholas was jealous, possessive, lust-filled, passionate, and then as if things couldn’t get any worse, he lied through his teeth to her about his feelings. But wasn’t it better this way? He was protecting her. Sai was young and had no idea how the ton treated scandal. She would be gossiped about for years. He couldn’t bring himself to do that to such an innocent girl.
If there was anyone to blame, it was Nicholas. Maybe if they had met sooner, before everything had gone wrong, maybe then he would have married her, selfishly wanting her for himself. Couldn’t she see that he was being honorable? That this was the first time in his life he was actually putting someone else’s welfare above his own? His chest tingled where she had laid her hand. His lips felt numb from their kissing.
The letter he had received earlier that day had set him on edge. He knew what surprises the next day promised to bring. Information that would destroy any pieces of romance and desire Sai felt for him. It broke his heart to think about the ramifications of a poor choice that was made so long ago. For the first time in his life he wasn’t afraid for himself, but for the pain it would bring to all innocent people involved.
The scandal, the gossip—everything had the potential to explode in his face. People would finally know why Nicholas Renwick decided to turn to religion, and the information would shock the ton to the core for years to come. It was imperative that he take his secret to the grave and keep those around him quiet. Too many lives would be affected otherwise.
***
Trying to be inconspicuous, Sara snuck back into the ballroom. She put on her shoes and a brave face, excusing herself to the ladies' salon to drink some tea to quiet her nerves.
Some of the pins that had once been secure hung loosely around her neck. She re-pinned them as best she could and smoothed her dress. Noticing a mirror in the far corner of the salon, she stared at the unrecognizable girl gazing back at her—she was not the same girl who left the country just a few weeks earlier.
She found it ironic Nicholas actually desired a simple country girl, oblivious to the fact that she was just that, nothing more. He assumed she was rich, and had a dowry the size of her aunt's fortune. He also assumed she was a lady, which she also was not. The thought humbled her. She traveled all the way to London to secure a husband with riches, and the only one she wanted didn’t want a lady of the ton, but a simple girl like the one she used to see staring back at her through the glass.
A sigh escaped her lips and she pinched her cheeks to add color to a face that she knew looked terribly tired and pale. She would be brave, and she would marry Nicholas. It must be; even if he kept pushing her away, she knew her aunt wouldn’t stand for his backing out, so he was stuck with her unless something drastic happened. Earlier today she heard from her mother that their money was dwindling. It was now all up to her to marry someone who could take care of her family. And Nicholas could do just that.
Some ladies walked in to the room and stared at her, then abruptly left whispering between themselves. Normally she was approached and spoken to. How swiftly things changed when one appeared to have a secret rendezvous in the garden. She shrugged and grabbed her reticule to leave, when the doors suddenly burst open.
“There you are!” Lady Fenton screamed. “I have been looking everywhere for you. Quickly. We must go. We must go immediately.”
Sara nodded her head and followed, apparently someone saw her and Nicholas in the garden. It was hardly scandalous enough for people to be gossiping. They were betrothed after all—not that it made her feel any less dirty for engaging in something so completely wanton. It was totally out of character for her. No, in fact, it was pure desperation. She was willing to give a part of herself to him that no man had ever received, if only he would admit he cared for her, that he could love her. Instead it seemed to make matters much worse; he hated himself for wanting her and hated himself for not being able to let her go. What a mess she had made.
A relative hush descended upon the ton as everyone watched Sara and Lady Fenton exit into the nearest hallway. Was kissing in the garden really that heinous? The churning in her stomach told her it was about much more than kissing in the garden. Her aunt pulled her into a room and shut the door. Lady Fenton paced in front of Sara until she was sure the floor would give way.
When her aunt looked up, Sara could tell she had been crying. “Aunt, are you well?” Sara asked quietly. Her aunt shook her head and looked toward the window overlooking the property; a heavy tension in the air.
“I’m afraid I’ve made a mistake, my dear.” Lady Fenton looked down at her hands. “You must marry Nicholas. The banns have been read and many of the ton already know you are compromised.”
“I know, aunt, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t the match you wanted, but I—” Her aunt held up her hand.
“Let me finish, Sai…Sara,” she corrected.
Sara waited.
“It was widely believed Lord Renwick simply became bored of the life he led, that he didn’t really want to cavort about anymore. People began respecting him for his views. He claimed to be a reformed man, and the entire ton believed him. I merely kept my mouth shut.” Her eyes pooled with more tears. “But things aren’t always what they seem, my dear. Two years ago, Renwick had an affair with a duchess. It was widely reputed that the duke had been unfaithful, so many agreed it was only fair that the duchess also take a lover. She was beautiful; she had hair just like yours, actually.”
Sara lifted her hand to touch her hair, her stomach growing sicker by the minute. Was that why he found her so attractive? Because she resembled a lost love?
“She and Renwick had a long affair. Her marriage was arranged; therefore, she was quite young. The duke was old and set in his ways. He heard rumors of his wife’s scandal but did nothing to stop it. Later, it was publicized that the duke died by falling on his own sword because the grief of his wife's infidelity had done him in. Unable to produce an heir, everything went to the wife. She wanted to marry Renwick, but he was never one for marriage. The story went on she was too emotionally attached to Renwick, so he left her and later found religion. She was his last, you see.”
Sara still couldn’t figure out why this was such scandal. Granted, it sounded bad, and Renwick would surely have to explain himself. He was the cause of someone else’s grief, no doubt, but there forgiveness is part of life. “Aunt, I don’t understand. Wasn’t everyone aware of this story before this evening?”
“This story they were aware of. The real story just surfaced this evening, my dear.” Lady Fenton held up a handkerchief to her eye and swallowed. “What I am about to tell you is the truth, from Renwick himself—though I swore I would never speak of it. Somehow, the ton got wind of it, most likely because of the attention paid to both of you of late and your betrothal. My dear, I must ask for your forgiveness first.”
Sara was confused. “Whatever for?”
Lady Fenton smiled weakly. “It was my fault you and Renwick were forced to be betrothed. I used his attraction to you. The moment he laid eyes on you, I knew he wanted you. I manipulated him into jealousy and lust. The duke was never going to offer for you. He was merely following you, so there would be a witness to the scandal between the two of you. It was deceitful, but you must understand. I love my cousin, and you seemed to be the only lady of the ton with heart enough to forgive him. If I had known his scandal would ever reach the ears of the ton, I would have died before letting you become involved. And now it seems you have a choice to make. Marry him and deal with the consequences of his disgrace, or refuse him and ruin yourself.”
Sara closed her eyes in protest; both options were abominable. If she refused him, could she simply go back to her country life? But what life would she have with no money for her family? They would all be ruined.
“What did he do, aunt?” Sara whispered.
“Sara, he killed him.”
“Who killed whom?” Sara asked, even though she knew in her heart what her aunt's answer would be.
“Sara, the duke found his wife with Renwick. Do you understand what that means?”
Sara nodded numbly.
“When he saw the affair had been brought into his own home, he was furious. He challenged Renwick to a duel.”
Sara gasped. “But those are illegal!”
“It doesn’t matter, Sara. What Renwick did was wrong. He crossed the line severely. Too blind with passion to say no, the following morning he and the duke dueled to the death. Renwick was winning, but in a sudden desire to be honorable, withdrew his sword. The duke provoked him even more and threatened to kill him, which was his right. Renwick saw an opportunity and took it, hoping only to injure the man, but the duke was old and did not have the strength to overcome the wounds. He died later that same night.”
Lady Fenton bit her lip. “It was then the duchess revealed to Renwick she was pregnant with his son. She hadn’t been with her husband in over a year. They kept it as quiet as possible and paid everyone off to report it was grief and rage which did the duke in. She gave birth in the country and was to raise the boy there. Renwick and the duchess never spoke of what happened and never reconciled. It was one of his biggest regrets, for in my heart I believe he loved her.
"Two months ago Renwick received news the duchess died of scarlet fever. Renwick was planning to do the honorable thing and take the son into his own household, even though it would create scandal. Before his son reached London this evening, someone from Renwick’s estate broke the silence about a small boy, the age of two now, coming to live with them. Normally it wouldn’t have incited such talk, but the boy is said to look exactly like the duchess who died. It didn’t take long for the real story to surface, though only a select few knew about it.”
Listening to her aunt, Sara's stomach heaved. Nicholas wasn’t just a rake; he was… he was an absolute monster! He stole another man’s wife, murdered the man, and left the woman alone to raise an illegitimate child. She needed time to process what her aunt told her, but blackness threatened to engulf her, closing in around the edges of her vision. Her head swam, and just as she was about to succumb to the darkness, her aunt cupped her face with her cool hands.
“My dear, we have to go out the front. Do you understand?”Sara nodded numbly. No wonder Nicholas felt he couldn't tell her his past. No wonder he felt like his heart was black as sin. Could God not forgive such an act of betrayal? Was it even her job to judge a man based on his past transgressions? The questions hung heavily in the air as she took her aunt's arm and walked out of the room, feeling much like Daniel trudging into the lion’s den.
The unfairness of the situation being thrust at her hit full force when she saw the faces of those in polite society sneer at her. The picture of Romans viewing gladiators and killings flashed through her mind. The ton was no better, standing by every Season for a new scandal to hit so they could gossip and ruin that person.
Her mind screamed that she was the victim. Nicholas was the reason for her current situation. She grabbed Lady Fenton’s hand and began the slow grueling walk to the exit. Masking her emotions with a bright smile, she nodded at those she passed, but felt nothing except silent gratification that the one woman who had trapped Nicholas Renwick Earl of Devons was in fact the one to be pitied not envied.