“Nicholas,” Sara said gently. “Nicholas look at me.”
He composed himself and looked into her piercing gaze. “The way I’m looking at you is the way that your son looks at you. You’re a fantastic father, a great husband, and this look I’m giving you is a look of love, forgiveness, honesty, and strength. We weren’t made to live alone or without wounds. We were never promised we wouldn’t go through storms in life; the only promise was that after the storm there would be a rainbow. Do you believe that? Because I do. You’re my rainbow, and I’d like to think Duncan and I, as well as this little one—” She pointed to her flat stomach. “—are your rainbows, too.” She reached out and cupped his face. “You were forgiven before you even asked.”
It was then Nicholas Renwick’s heart began to heal again. The minute his wife offered him the forgiveness and love he so desperately sought after all his life. The love he didn’t do anything to deserve but was given to him despite his many shortcomings.
He whispered the words against her cheek. “I love you.”
She laughed softly as she guided his hand to her stomach. “I know.”
Epilogue
Five years later
“Samuel!” Nicholas bellowed through the hall. “Samuel, get down here this instant!” His aggressive five-year-old proceeded to run down the stairs at lightning speed, missing the last one with all the grace that a young child could posses and promptly fell on his bottom.
Mischievous blue eyes looked up at Nicholas, melting his heart instantly. What had he been so upset about again? Oh right, Samuel had single-handedly cut all the hair off his sisters’ dolls and then fed it to the chickens.
Nicholas’s temper returned. The poor girls were only two and a half, and they cried for hours!
“Samuel, what do you have to say for yourself?”
Samuel bit his lip perplexed at such a question or so it seemed. “They had ugly hair,” he stated dryly. Leave it to Sara to give birth to a son that had more wit and dry sarcasm than the two of them combined. Nicholas pinched his nose and rolled his eyes. “Son, listen to me.”
Samuel nodded his head and crossed his arms, in the exact same fashion Nicholas habitually did when he was concentrating. “One day you’re going to want girls to like you and girls like to be treated like princesses. If you treat your sisters cruelly, then you won’t learn how to treat girls nicely. Then no one will want to marry you. You don’t want that, do you?”
Samuel grinned. “Dad, did you have that problem?”
“Samuel, I—“
“Because Mum said that lots of girls liked you even though you—“
“Enough.” Nicholas didn’t even want to know what Samuel had to say next. “Go find your sisters and apologize.”
Samuel nodded his head and trotted back up the stairs, rather cheerfully to Nicholas’s mind. It was as if he was staring at himself as a young boy. When Samuel reached the age to court, he was locking him in the upstairs attic. He had too much charm to do him any good at that age, especially with women.
He walked over to his study and smiled. Sara had redecorated it when she was pregnant with the twins. Her nervous energy came in swift bounds during those months, making it nearly impossible for even Nicholas to sit still around her.
“What are you smiling about?” Sara’s voice whispered behind his ear.
He jumped slightly then turned and pulled her into his arms. “Oh just about you, and the girls, and Samuel’s upstairs apologizing, by the way.”
“I still can’t believe he fed the doll hair to the chickens. You do know that the gardener is still pulling it out of the coop, right?”
Nicholas tried not to laugh. “Yes, and on behalf of men everywhere, I apologize. I don’t know what gets into him.”
“Oh I do!” She said without taking time to think. “He’s his father’s son, that’s what, plus Duncan isn’t the best influence when it comes to pranks. Did you know that just last week he brought a frog to church?” Sara’s eyes closed in absolute horror. “It was awful, especially when he handed it to Mother and asked her to hold it during the sermon.”
Nicholas laughed. Lady Fenton was the picture of elegance and grace, to envision her holding her grandson’s frog was the most amusing thing he had heard in ages. “What did she do?”
“What could she do?” Sara exclaimed. “You weren’t there to rescue her since you were gone on business all week, and I was still feeling ill! The poor dear sat there for an hour, Nicholas; an entire hour with the slimy thing in her lap. Oddly enough, it didn’t move.“