The Ugly Duckling Debutante_FINAL-3 by Rachel van Dyken Page A

lay behind her façade, something he hadn’t quite figured out.
    “It looks like we have arrived,” she said, fumbling with the edges of her gloves yet again; my, she was nervous.
    “So we have,” he answered, helping her out of the carriage.   He momentarily forgot his place and allowed his hands to circle around her waist as he helped her down. It was a stupid mistake. One he paid for dearly when the heat from her body hit him full force on the ground. He awkwardly stared into her eyes, before he heard someone clear their throat.
    Lady Fenton stood just a few steps away with an odd smile on her face. “Did it work?” she asked, not greeting Sai.
    Reluctantly, he released Sai’s waist. “Yes, of course, my lady.”
    Lady Fenton stepped toward him, sashaying her hips; it was tiresome how women put on a show for him. “It appears she got you pretty good, did she not?”
    He rolled his eyes; he had enough humiliation for one day. “Just ask her about the trees.” And with that he was in his carriage shouting that he would call for them at six.
    “Trees?” Her aunt looked at her curiously.
    “I have no idea what he means,” Sara fibbed. She pushed past her aunt and ran up the stairs to her room.

 
     
    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