Chapter Fourteen
Sara walked through the doors of her aunt’s house, giddy with delight. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Impossible for her to contain her excitement; with every breath he heart threatened to explode. It took every ounce of self-control just to keep herself from smiling everywhere she went. She was getting married in a few days to the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Sure, scandal seemed to follow him at every turn, and he did have a son out of wedlock, but she found herself inexplicably drawn to him. In a way, they needed each other. Nicholas’s heart was half-broken from past mistakes, and hers was just starting to beat again and regain courage after a childhood riddled with neglect and scorn from the people who should have loved her most. The two of them could find love in each other, or so she hoped.
It was easy to see Nicholas still wanted to punish himself. In spite of his disclosure about the contract for the first year of their marriage, he escorted her home earlier that day and explained their plans to Lady Fenton.
Sara expected her to be shocked, but she merely said she assumed as much and had already made some inquires as to which churches were available for the ceremony. Sara had to admit her aunt was surprising her more and more each day.
“Sara?” Her aunt’s voice was soft and cautious behind the closed door of her room.
“Yes?” she answered.
“May I speak with you?”
Sara opened the door to her aunt and Davina holding a tray of tea and biscuits. “Of course, Aunt. Do come in.”
They sat near the fireplace silently eating the biscuits and drinking tea. Her aunt was the first to break the silence. “Davina, will you excuse us, please?”
Davina flashed a worried glance toward Sara and curtsied.
Lady Fenton’s hands were trembling as she put her teacup back onto the tray. “My dear, I have a confession to make.”
“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.