The Ugly Duckling Debutante(37)

“I should be asking you the same thing, my lord.” He held the shoe out to her but pushed her hand out of the way when she reached for it. Instead he laid the shoe effortlessly on the ground next to her exposed stockings. Her face flushed red just thinking about the scandal she caused.



“It’s not scandalous unless you let me see your ankles.”



She smiled.



“Wait. Are you going to let me see your ankles, because if you are—” He laughed.



She liked him this way, easy to talk to, happy. It was better than the brooding mood he seemed to lapse so easily into at the slightest provocation. “You’re happier outside,” she found herself musing.



He sighed. “I’m happier when I’m away from all of that.” He pointed back toward the giant ballroom. “I guess you could say I’ve sowed my wild oats and now want nothing more than to retire to the country like an old man.”



“You're hardly old!” She giggled. “I mean, of course, you’re older than me by quite a few years.” Nicholas glared at her. “But you’re not ancient.”



“Your compliments restore me to youthful vitality, I assure you.” He gallantly put his hand over his heart and grinned, revealing a perfect view of his captivating smile.



She suddenly felt light as a feather, although the turmoil of the evening weighed heavily on her heart.



“Why is it,” he leaned in, “that every time we attend a gathering, I find you outside doing something scandalous?”



“It was hot?” she offered, more as a question. He reached to brush some hair from her face.



“Try again,” he said.



Sara was rapidly running out of reasons to explain to him why she kept escaping the clutches of the ton. “I don’t like to be stared at,” she answered looking down, and it was the truth. If she was really being honest with herself, it had always unsettled her to be gawked at—ugly or pretty, it didn’t matter. It made her feel like who she was on the inside was of no importance.



“That’s silly,” he said quickly. “Why wouldn’t a woman such as yourself—and notice I didn’t use the word normal—want to be admired?”



She exhaled. “Because I don’t believe it’s the outside that counts.”



Nicholas seemed perplexed by her statement, almost as if he thought she was bluffing. He folded his arms across his chest and spoke softly, “What about the inside then? What if your inside is as black as your outside?”



She smiled. “Surely a Christian man like yourself, understands there is forgiveness, even for the blackest of souls.” Sara didn’t know what possessed her, but she found herself reaching across the bench and laying a hand on his. His eyes widened in surprise.





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?”