The Ugly Duckling Debutante(21)
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.