The Ugly Duckling Debutante(36)

If she weren’t already feeling uncomfortable in a man’s arms, she might have tried to apologize, but she bristled over the fact that she had not given Rawlings permission to use her Christian name however fake it was. Only Renwick called her Sai. When he said her name, she thought it sounded exotic, but on Rawlings’ lips it sounded more like the sigh of a wanton woman when cornered in the ballroom. She forced a smile and continued dancing, but Nicholas’s angry stare burned into her back for the rest of the dance.



When Rawlings’ eyes jerked up Sara knew. Nicholas was behind her. He gave Rawlings a curt nod then grabbed Sara by the waist.



“A waltz,” he growled into her ear. She immediately tensed when the music started. She hadn’t danced a waltz in public with Renwick, nor had she ever wanted to. It was too embarrassing. Couldn’t everyone see the way he made her feel? It was suddenly apparent to her that much of the ton was watching them dance rather than dancing themselves. Sara tried to keep a smile on her face but found it difficult to concentrate as her legs kept brushing against his. Oh dear, she thought. This cannot end well. It simply cannot.



Her breathing became more uneven until finally, by the grace of God, the dance ended. She sighed with relief, but not before Renwick leaned down to kiss her hand, and whisper once more into her ear, “You’re mine.”



“So, now I am your possession?” she asked through clenched teeth.



He smiled tensely. “My dear, what else would you be?”



“I hoped to be your wife.”



“Well, I hoped to never marry a manipulative woman of the ton; we can’t always get our way can we?” With that he bowed and motioned for another young gentleman to dance with her. The young man couldn’t have been any older than she and reeked of brandy. Nicholas was punishing her, but what had she ever done to him? None of his accusations were true. He was acting like an absolute cad! How dare he say that she had manipulated her! If anything it was the other way around! He was the one that was continually taking advantage of her by kissing her whenever he had the chance. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have ample opportunity to bridge the gap between them. In fact after looking at her dress it was obvious it would be something any man would find appealing. Even if it was a trifle too elaborate for her tastes. Surely Renwick noticed her? Or she hoped he would at least say something. Instead did he do upon seeing her? He looked down and asked if she was ready! The more she thought about it the more upset she became! Manipulative? What did he base his accusations on? It wasn’t fair of him to judge her based on nothing but his own sick assumptions.



The rest of the night went by so slow that Sara thought she might collapse into a fit of rage. Gentleman after gentleman asked her for a dance. Her feet were so tired, she thought they would fall off, and each man she met whispered into her ear poetry and songs of love. It wasn’t at all what she had expected.



Apparently ugly ducklings could hatch into swans. She just didn’t realize it wasn’t at all as exciting as she had read about in her novels. Most of the men were slightly foxed, if not completely, and let their hands roam a little too freely down the sides of her body. The others she danced with, the ones she at least found agreeable, ended up trying to trick her into going into the gardens with them. Had they no idea she was betrothed? Was this how Nicholas had behaved in order to earn his reputation? The thought dizzied her and the room suddenly began to swim. She needed to escape; she needed to get out of these God forsaken shoes and find fresh air.



Sara ran to the closest door and threw it open, revealing a tiny garden walkway; she hurried down the walkway toward the bench and turned around to see if anyone followed. Nicholas would be furious if he found her out here by herself.



She sat on the bench and let a lone tear escape her eye. Fairy tales were not true; they had it all wrong. It was about time she accepted that, even if now she somehow miraculously had a pretty face and dress, nothing would satisfy her unless she had someone to love her for her heart and the way she laughed. She sighed and threw off a shoe, moaning in ecstasy at the feel of the grass against her stockings. It felt so good she decided to throw off her other shoe.



“Why are you throwing shoes at me?” Nicholas’s deep voice penetrated the darkness. His perfectly chiseled face wore a smug grin that he apparently reserved only for her.



“Oh, I apologize, my lord,” she retorted. “If I had known you were back there, I would have thrown them much harder.”



“Which is why I kept my silence until both shoes were already out of reach of those catapults masquerading as dainty hands.” He sat down, still wearing a smirk, though her tone did cause him to wince. “What are you doing out in the gardens by yourself, and stripping out of your shoes, no less?”