Chapter Six
She heard her aunt yell after her to start getting ready. She opened her chamber doors and gasped with delight. A large tub filled with hot water and oils awaited her, she nearly split her own dress in a hurry to get into the water.
By the time her dress was off, she was positively elated. She dipped herself into the water and took a deep breath. She would most likely fail in her mission to find a husband so her family would have money. Who would want her anyway? It didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy small pleasures before the rejection was finally enough to send her back into the countryside.
Thinking of the upcoming ball, she closed her eyes. She had never been but heard she needed to attend or she wouldn’t receive invitations to people’s houses or parties, and she needed those invites if she hoped to gain a titled husband.
The thoughts swarming in her head felt jumbled. The emotions were confusing when her body was within Renwick’s proximity She constantly fought an inner battle of one minute wanting to hit him and the next wanting to kiss him, but she had never been thoroughly kissed and only wanton women went after men in that manner. It would, however, shock him; though if the smoldering look in his eyes was any hint as to how he would react, she would be better off not inquiring if he would be a willing participant. A shudder went through her, Nicholas Renwick was not to be trifled with.
Why was she thinking of him at all? He was not her future husband. True, he was wealthy and titled, but also a self-professed reformed rake, never to marry again, plus half the women in the ton still desired him, and many of them were married! Her own aunt seemed mesmerized by his presence; if he ever chose to marry it would most likely be royalty, not some untitled lady from the country.
Before she knew it, the once hot water had grown stale and chilly around her body. She reluctantly stepped out and wrapped herself in the beautifully woven robe she found by her bed. Two short knocks on the door announced the arrival of her aunt’s maid who curtsied and explained, “My lady, I’m to help you get ready for the ball.”
Sara smiled. “That would be so kind of you. I fear I don’t even remember how to dress in such elaborate clothing!”
The maid smiled and helped her begin with the chemise.
“What’s your name?” Sara asked.
“My name?” The maid’s eyes widened in absolute shock.
“Well, I should like to know what to call you,” Sara offered.
The maid fumbled with the clothes laid out in front of them. “My name’s Davina.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sara said smiling warmly. Davina smiled gayly as she pulled out the corset.
“Isn’t that a bit, um… small?” Sara asked. She had never seen a corset so scandalously little and tight.
“Oh sorry, miss. This is the new French corset. It is much more comfortable than the whalebone corsets which have been gracing the ton. Many of the ladies will be wearing these particular corsets tonight; although, only a few can get away with them, considering they do not hold much in.” She turned red and began helping Sara finish dressing.
Davina was right. Sara looked into the mirror and gasped. She was wearing a blue ball gown with a revealing low neckline. It was one of the gowns Madame Fran?ois had discussed with her; however, she wasn’t aware it would be so low cut. She felt almost naked. The corset she wore also did nothing to hide her tiny waist, but it did accentuate her hips. It was short and light for a corset.
She liked the way the fabric flowed freely from her hips. In fact, the dress didn’t appear like a French style at all. Looking in the mirror, Sara felt very much like a Grecian princess she read about in her books.
She smiled into the mirror as Davina dressed her hair. “Would you like me to add some kohl to your eyes, my lady?”
Sara shrugged her shoulders; it couldn’t make her any uglier. Davina rubbed her eyelashes in kohl then took out some rouge and painted her face. “You look beautiful.”
Sara knew this was a moment in her life she would never forget. It wasn’t that she actually believed Davina, but the fact Davina said it so honestly left her with some small hope it might be true. It was the first time anyone in Sara’s life called her beautiful. She held her breath to keep from crying. Smiling at Davina, her throat constricted painfully. “Thank you.”
She turned to look at herself in the mirror when another knock sounded at the door. Davina rushed to open it. Aunt Tilda strolled in and twirled her dress for Sara. “Isn’t it divine? It’s positively shimmering with crystals!” Aunt Tilda looked thrilled, but Sara was appalled. That dress could feed a small country—it was worth a fortune! Why not just donate the dress to her family, so she doesn’t have to suffer through the season?
Her aunt looked at her strangely. “That’s hardly the reaction I was hoping for, my dear. I do say! Well, don’t just stand there gawking. Hurry along. Lord Renwick is waiting.”
***
Nicholas took a deep breath as he was let inside Lady Fenton’s home. It was embarrassing how long it took him to get ready. Normally he didn’t spend this much time dressing. Today it took him four hours. Granted, he’d ruined at least seven cravats in the process, not to mention torn a hole in his pants after tripping over his own shoe. This in turn caused his groom to ask him if he’d been drinking. He wished. At least it would give him an excuse for his odd behavior. The title of perpetual drunk did have a certain ring to it, but then again anything was better than “lovesick schoolboy.” He shuddered at the thought.
Nicholas’s valet, who seemed to get more irritated by the minute, went into the large closet and chose for him. The room was dark, fitting for his current mood. The last thing he wanted to do was leave the comfort of his large home to escort temptation itself to the ball.
Lifting his eyes heavenward, he prayed for strength and donned his tight black silk breeches, a long velvet coat with blue and gold seams, and his finest French silk shirt. The arrangement defined dark and dangerous. Hopefully Sai would get the hint. He tired of the drab clothing he had been wearing for the past two years. It served its purpose of allowing him to blend in with the rest of the ton—but tonight, well, tonight he only wanted one person’s attention, however suicidal that may be. He heard someone approaching and turned around.
His immediate reaction upon seeing her was to cough.
Then swear.
His heightened sense of arousal did nothing for his already nervous demeanor. Adjusting his pants, he let out a ragged exhale. He really shouldn’t have worn such tight breeches. What in the blazes had he been thinking?
No one would find him guilty of any coherent thought at the moment. His mouth dropped open when Sai made her entrance and twirled in a circle to present herself for Lady Fenton's approval.
Oh, how he loved twirling.
Her hair was piled around her head in a beautiful adornment of crystals. The longer he studied her the more he realized she looked like a Greek goddess—like Aphrodite herself. Everything about her screamed perfection, she smiled and curtsied. He had to put his hand on the back of the chair to steady his own shaky disposition. He felt faint….again. That would be twice in one day. She was not good for his newfound faith in a higher power. Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil… he prayed silently, trying desperately to bring some semblance of control back into his melting composure.
It became painfully obvious in that moment, one of two things would happen this night. Either he would die from unsatisfied lust, or he would beat to death the first man who laid a hand on her.
The thought of the other men brought with it the sudden impulse to immediately cover Sai's exposed chest with a napkin, or a table cloth, or better yet, his own hands—anything, just so other men wouldn’t take notice. But how could they not? Her low cut gown profoundly accentuated her perfect breasts. Yes, her skin was dark, but it cast a bronze glow from the vast expanse of skin, merely adding to the effect of the perfect likeness of Aphrodite.
“Perhaps you should take a moment to compose yourself, Nicholas,” Lady Fenton whispered stepping between him and Sai.
His pride also took a blow when he realized his apparel didn’t have the same effect on Sai as hers did on him. She merely smiled and followed him to the carriage. He decided he wouldn’t allow her to touch him lest it completely undo him; not that he wasn’t already in that exact predicament. It’s only because he didn’t have a wife, or a mistress, or any sort of spirit stronger than wine in his possession at the moment. At least that’s what he told himself when he looked longingly across the carriage. She wasn’t wearing one of those awful contraptions that women often did when they wore ball gowns, in fact if he were a betting man he would say she wasn’t wearing a corset at all, or was she? He leaned over to her side briefly to determine the answer to the mystery, but she turned and locked eyes with him.
“Find what you were looking for?” she asked mockingly.
He cleared his throat. “I thought I saw a spider," he stammered. His stupidity was nothing short of legendary this evening; never had he been so at a loss for words.
“A spider?” she replied. “Really?” Her tone patronized him like a mother catching her son in a ridiculous lie.
“It was a large spider,” he insisted.
A large spider? He shook his head and longingly looked out the window wishing for any sort of distraction to keep Sai from pursuing the conversation further.
The lips of her mouth turned up into a smile. “Well, that obviously changes things.”
He crossed his arms. “I agree.”
“After all,” she continued, “large spiders need to be captured immediately. How dare they go skittering about in nature? From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for your concern over my welfare; my, if you are so concerned with a spider, just think how you will protect me at the ball!”
He mumbled something inaudible and prayed the carriage would swallow him whole. He seriously needed to rethink the whole perpetually drunk idea.
They arrived at the ball not a moment too soon.
Sai’s eyes were fluttering all over the large house. “Who lives here?”
“The Duke and Duchess of Cavens,” he answered, bored by her question. Everyone knew who Cavens was. Just how far away from society had this girl lived before coming to stay with her aunt this season? He shook his head and helped her out of the carriage, careful to avoid any direct contact with Sai's exposed skin.
“Wait!” She pulled on his coat stopping him in his tracks.
“What is it?” he asked, suddenly concerned. Was she to be ill? Was she nervous?
“What’s our association?” Her skin pinked with embarrassment.
He knew he needed to tread lightly; she had a temper, and he didn’t want to prolong their season. His goal was to find her a match tonight. “What do you mean?” His tone was surprisingly even and affectionate.
She looked at him strangely. “Well, we are arriving alone without my aunt. I know she is just a carriage behind us, but when we are presented…I mean to say, how shall we be announced?” she stammered.
He tried to hold back, but he couldn’t help himself. A hearty laugh erupted from him, and with it drained all the tension he had been fighting since the evening began. She was adorable.
“Sai, we are old family friends. Because of today, people believe I have tried to use my rakish wiles to seduce you. Against my better judgment might I add? More than likely you will hear nothing but gossip about me tonight, along with indignant mothers throwing their more handsome and more innocent titled sons your way.” Not feeling the need to also explain to her that although he hated being used in this way—he would do it all over again if it would keep Lady Fenton from speaking the truth.
She bit her lip in annoyance. “You mean to tell me that you insisted I slap you earlier so they would throw themselves at my feet?”
“As they say, or have said,” he corrected himself. “Not even a married woman would turn me down. And you, my lady, already have; therefore, your reputation precedes you.” He held out his arm to her, which she accepted, and then promptly she stomped on his foot.
He cursed in frustration before pulling her back into his chest. “What was that for? I don’t believe that was a cue for you to kick me!”
“It wasn’t!” Her face was wild with anger. “I’m sorry; I guess I just can’t control myself around you—you—you—” She was stuttering again. He loved her this way. “Rake!” she yelled, tightening her hands into tiny fists. He remembered her slap from earlier and backed up a little. “I can’t believe you would deceive me like this.”
He had no words. What could he tell her? Anything he said would only serve to upset her further, especially if she knew the hardest thing she would have to do was yet to come. She was about to be introduced to society. And he was to be hanging on her arm. An interesting night, indeed.
Both of her dainty hands were still clenched in fury. He would have laughed again had he not already experienced the sting on the receiving end of those hands. His cheek ached on cue.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said channeling his more diplomatic side. “Let’s just survive tonight, and when it’s all over with, if you haven't found a husband—or if you somehow embarrass yourself because of me—I’ll let you slap me and—”
“—and you’ll be my slave for a day,” she interjected, surprisingly cheerfully.
“Deal,” he agreed. No reluctance in his voice. He would pay to follow her around, not that he would ever utter a word of it to anyone. “Shall we?” Offering his arm to her again, he felt his own heart begin to pound and suddenly grew scared for Sai. It was hard enough being of ill reputation as he was, but what would it be like as fresh meat for the ton to feast on?
Sai took his proffered arm and nestled her delicate fingers in the crook of his elbow. He couldn’t help but admire her spunk. On the outside she looked as calm as any of the ladies of his acquaintance. It was almost as if she was used to people gawking at her, but then again how could she not be? She was breathtaking. In fact, she looked so good in the dress she was wearing, it made him want to curse out loud and stand in front of her like some sort of guard dog, warding off any unwelcome advances.
Nicholas methodically led her by the Duke and Duchess. Best to get the introductions finished before Sai decided to faint at his feet. Everyone bowed, and then things started going south. The duchess stepped out, took one look at Sai and laughed; she had the audacity to laugh!
“My dear,” she had her gloved hand over her heart as she spoke. “It looks to me like you’ve brought yourself a little pet.” She smiled curiously at Sai while inspecting her thoroughly from head to toe. Nicholas rolled his eyes, willing the night to end right then so he wouldn’t have to face any more aggravating females.
“Your Grace.” He bowed again. “This is Lady Sai. She is a guest of Lady Fenton, her aunt.”
Sai curtsied and flashed a devastating smile. The Duke’s face took on a purplish red hue as he stammered nervously about how beautiful her name was, after which the Duchess elbowed him directly in the ribs—possibly because he was acting like a fool. It was the perfect exit strategy.
“Sorry about that,” he murmured.
She kept her gaze forward but responded, “What just happened?”
He sighed; his past always was such an inconvenience. “She once tried to seduce me.”
This made Sai laugh so hard he was forced to stop in their tracks, so she could regain her composure. “Are you quite done?”
“Never.” Her sparkling eyes met his in brief interlude then abruptly turned away.
He took her arm again and felt himself laugh a little, too. “I didn’t return her advances.”
“Poor Duchess,” Sai sighed wistfully. “She was probably humiliated beyond repair.”
He looked at her curiously, “What do you mean?”
Sai licked her lips. “I meant no disrespect, my lord—”
“Renwick or Nicholas, never ‘my lord’,” he corrected.
“Nicholas.” His name sounded like honey on her lips. “But considering your reputation, it must have been a great blow to her pride for you not to bed her. I know that sounds terribly rude but…”
He interrupted, “No, you are absolutely right.”
“I am?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he chuckled, and suddenly they were in the ballroom. It was one of those moments people wrote about in books or plays. It seemed even the music stopped as they entered. Lucky for Sai, she wasn’t aware this wasn’t customary, making Nicholas feel more at ease. Her hand, however, was clutching his arm so tight he would have bruises in the morning.
“Be brave.” The words came out in an emotional whisper into her hair.
She looked up at him with her huge eyes and smiled. He wanted to cry in return. He was escorting her to a ball so she could find a husband… as in another man, not him. It suddenly hit him, and his chest tightened as though he had had the wind knocked out of him. She would be in another man’s arms by the end of the Season, maybe by the end of the evening. Her kisses would be reserved for that man and that man alone; her arguments, too.
What he wouldn’t do just to argue with her for the rest of his life. He looked back down at her perfect face and choked back the words he longed to say. He wanted to take her into the darkened hallway. He wanted to seduce her in the gardens and ruin her reputation for good. But she was not good for him. She was manipulative; he needed to remind himself of that fact before he lost all control. She knew she was beautiful, and beautiful women were not faithful. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was the simple fact fidelity was rare. Married people strayed, and the good-looking ones usually strayed toward him. No, he refused to put himself in that situation.
He watched as more eyes locked on the sight of the two of them. His chest swelled with pride that Sai was on his arm—until he caught sight of Sir Belverd.
Sir Belverd lifted an eyebrow in his direction. Nicholas scowled and rolled his eyes.“Please. Nothing could induce me to lose the bet.”
Belverd shook his head and lifted his glass into the air to salute Nicholas for being so brave. Nicholas wanted to stab him; instead he returned a polite smile and led Sai onto the floor.
“Any perspective suitors, Sai?”
“Hmm?” she asked looking up at him. Was she even paying attention?
Apparently noticing his frustration, she sighed. “I’m sorry, I just… It’s a lot.” Her voice held no confidence whatsoever, so he decided to bolster her esteem a bit.
“You are not like most girls,” he crooned into her ear as they danced together. “Hold your head high, and be brave. I’m sure you’ve been stared at all your life, this should come as no shock to you, should it?”
She shook her head no, but the light in her eyes seemed to dissipate.
“I need you to…” He twirled her quickly and brought her back in, “…put on a brave smile, because the Duke of Kenmore is on his way over, and he needs an heir. An heir you can give him.” On cue, the Duke presented himself and gracefully took Sai out of Nicholas’s hands.
He felt naked.
The warmth from Sai’s back faded quickly from his hands, leaving them cold and clammy, and noticeably empty. He needed a drink, a very stiff drink.
“They will be perfect together,” Lady Fenton’s voice whispered next to him. “I inquired of his status earlier today. He needs an heir, and lucky for Kenmore, Sai is young enough to do the job.”
“He’s older than my father.” Nicholas snorted. “Do you really think a girl like Sai could stay with a man like that?” He gestured toward Kenmore.
Balding slightly, Kenmore had a bit of a pot belly, most likely from over-consumption of brandy. His smile seemed nice and proper, but it never reached his eyes. His skin was papery and wrinkly from the many years he had lived. All in all, he wasn’t the talk of the ton for a reason; he was, simply put, ugly. He was also quite rich, making him one of the most sought after bachelors, right up there next to Nicholas.
He watched in fascination when Sai smiled at the old Duke. It made his blood boil, and he wasn’t usually prone to physical violence.
“Need this?” Sir Belverd suddenly appeared at his right, an amused smile on his face.
Nicholas glared. “If you think I’m going to lose the bet, you’re sorely mistaken.” Lady Fenton sauntered off when she heard the word bet, which made Nicholas rest easy she had no inclination of the feelings Sai evoked in him.
Belverd took a long drink of brandy. “What would ever give you the idea my faith in you is wavering?” His eyes twinkled with laughter, making Nicholas all the more annoyed. He grabbed the brandy Belverd offered, tossing it back like milk. Forcefully, Nicholas handed the cup back to him and stalked outside to the gardens. Although still early, he’d seen enough for one night. Protector or no protector, he had no intention of standing idly by watching the Duke and Sai begin their courtship.
***
Sara knew the moment Nicholas left the room. Her body began relax in the Duke’s arms. She finally felt free to dance without being watched. She had been apologizing profusely for tripping over his feet, but he was kind enough to tell her a joke about his first ball. Apparently, he had grabbed a woman’s wig during a dance in order to break his own fall. Sara giggled with delight at the anecdote. He was an old man, older than her own father, but he seemed kind. She liked that about him. However, she couldn’t really see herself conjuring up romantic feelings for him. He was more like a grandfatherly teddy bear, and thinking about him made her want to hug him. Not…well, not do other things with him.
Nicholas had left a handprint on her back, unfortunately. The place where he held her burned, and every move she made, it felt like her body mourned the absence of his. Almost as if they’d been designed from the beginning of time to fit together. The thought made her uncomfortable, to say the least. He would never choose her, why would he? She tried to smile and focus on the duke, but felt her lips freeze when Aunt Tilda offered a rare approving nod from where she stood.
The dance ended, giving Sai the escape she needed. She excused herself from the duke politely, and made a swift exit for some fresh air, relieved when nobody seemed to notice her take her leave into the gardens. She glanced back to confirm no one had followed her, and then bumped into something hard.
That something uttered a word she could only assume was not fit for her ears and turned around.
“Nicholas?” she asked perplexed. When did he go outside? She knew he left the room but figured he had joined some of the gentlemen elsewhere; instead he was here. Outside. Alone. With her.
He looked equally shocked. His eyes narrowed toward her and then the door. “What are you doing out here?” He sounded angry. Why wasn’t that a surprise anymore? Although to tell the truth, he was as enticing angry as when he was calm. He had the most handsome face. His jawline was clenched and a muscle flared across it as if he was trying to bite his own tongue.
She pushed past him and walked off the beaten path to a tree. “I can’t dance.”
“Everyone can dance.” She could almost feel him rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“I can only waltz,” she said, echoing his irritated tone. “It’s the only dance I’ve been taught. I felt nervous, so I came outside for some fresh air. Is that all right? Or am I not allowed to do that, oh loyal protector?” She turned around in time to see his head snap up. His eyes smoldered with irrational anger.
In two strides he was in front of her. “Do you think this is a game? Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be walking around outside by yourself? Any man could have his way with you out here.” He shut his eyes and pinched his nose. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Sara sighed and lowered herself onto the bench beneath the tree. “Did you know that no man has ever even tried to kiss me?” She corrected herself then uttered, “I mean a real kiss, not a pity kiss, or a kiss out of curiosity, or even a kiss from a family member. A real kiss. I guess I don’t even know what one would feel like.
He looked surprised. He also sat down, which she thought was probably a good sign.
“I always wanted to be kissed, wanted to see what it felt like before…” She let her voice trail off mournfully.
“Before what?” he asked. His voice was gentle, sensitive. The sound of it sent her heart fluttering rapidly.
She plucked several blades of grass and played with them absently before she answered. “Before I’m married off to a man older than my grandfather.”
“You know,” he said, turning to face her. “Many women would be thrilled to become a duchess even if it meant marrying a man twice their age.”
She sighed. “I know, but I can't help but wish to marry someone who will love me for me. Someone who will love me enough to be loyal.” She hesitated a moment, trying to decide if she should continue. Then asked the dreaded question she had been pondering all night. “Do you think he will be loyal to me?”
Her question seemed to take Renwick off guard. Breaking eye contact, he glanced at the ground then back at her. He seemed to be weighing his response carefully, and after a long silence he answered, “Sai.” His voice was strained. “I think any man would be a fool to betray you, and that’s the absolute truth.”
He hadn’t said she was beautiful, but he didn’t need to. He said what she needed to hear, that she was a treasure worth keeping, someone worth marrying. It was enough to make her sob, but instead of tears her moment of weakness produced bravery.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked boldly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Never mind. It was stupid. I’m sorry.” Sara stood to leave, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her down upon his lap in one smooth motion. She was afraid to make eye contact, afraid a look in his eyes would vaporize every ounce of bravery she possessed. What right did she have to ask this beautiful man to kiss her? As ugly as she was? Pain surged through her tightening chest, as fear grasped her. She was scared. Sara had experienced rejection before, but what if Renwick were to reject her? It would kill her, she was sure of it.
He’s kissed you before, her heart reminded her as she waited for his response. She wasn’t throwing herself at every available man. The fact that they had already shared a kiss, albeit brief, made her feel more vulnerable. What if she was so terrible the first time that he didn’t want to repeat it?
Renwick licked his lips and bent toward her face. A shudder went through her as the heat from his skin grew closer to her lips. Closing her eyes in anticipation, she waited for the inevitable. And nearly cried when his lips brushed lightly across her forehead rather than where she wanted them the most. Sara's heart sank. How did he not understand that wasn’t what she meant? Her eyes fluttered open as she began to protest, but he silenced her with a finger. His eyes turned black, and she couldn’t pull her gaze away if her life depended on it.
He smiled teasingly and kissed her cheek. Again she opened her mouth to say something; this time he chuckled and silenced her in the same way. She felt dizzy. He was toying with her, she knew it—why would he waste his time kissing everything but her mouth? Wasn’t that how kissing worked? She had only kissed her parents on few occasions and mostly on the hand or cheek.
She bit her lip in frustration as he kissed her other cheek. Then his entire face seemed to darken with hunger. His lips touched hers, almost as if he was asking permission. She didn’t know what to do—was she to push back, or open her mouth, or…? Her mind became a jumble of incoherent thoughts. Only one thought was clear when she felt how soft his lips were against hers. Kisses with the duke would never be like this. And her heart broke.
“Sai,” Nicholas whispered with ragged breath.
“What?” She leaned back, but he gently put a hand behind her neck and pulled her head to his again.
“I need you to--.”
She opened her mouth to ask what he needed, but in that same instant he pulled her in and gently brushed his lips across hers. The kiss surprised her. It was different than before. His tongue effortlessly moved between her parted lips, tasting and exploring. Pressure increased as the kiss deepened, sending her further into a passion-filled haze. His hands continued to move gracefully across her back making her feel like she was the most delicate woman in the world. His tongue continued to demand more and more of her surrender.
Instinctively, she reached out and entrenched her fingers in his hair and pulled him even closer needing to feel his hard body against hers. He moaned something inaudible and shifted his weight shielding her form from the cool of the night. All she felt was heat emanating from him. Desperation overwhelmed her as his kisses moved down the side of her neck into her ear. His velvet tongue now drawing circles around the delicate part of her ear. She didn’t want the kiss to end. In fact, she would have been happy to stay on his lap forever.
He pulled back abruptly and paled. Had she done something wrong? Had she pushed him too far? She felt suddenly ashamed about still being in his lap; but it was then she realized she wasn’t even in his lap anymore, but lying on her back with him on top of her. She immediately flushed crimson and closed her eyes. This was an extremely compromising position, not that she had cared at the time, but if anyone were to see them, they would surely be forced to marry.
Sara quickly got up and pushed some of the escaped hair out of her face. Nicholas was still speechless, which led her to believe he regretted his decision. The silence was deafening and embarrassing. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. How could she be so stupid as to think that a man like him would actually want her. Mortified she muttered a flustered thank you and rushed back toward the house.
Behind her Nicholas fast approached. She grunted when he pulled her into the shadows and pushed her back against the wall. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice shaky.
“What are you sorry for?” she asked. Was he mad? Why would he be sorry?
“You asked for a kiss.” He laughed bitterly and looked away. “And I nearly compromise you at your first ball. Really, I had no intention of putting you in that position. I really am a rake at heart; you would be wise to remember that.” The last words were spat out rather coldly.
“How could I forget? Especially when you make it your personal duty to remind me every minute of every day.”
She shoved him away and stormed into the ballroom, leaving an angry, yet alluring Nicholas Renwick behind.