Page 118 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
Nick said nothing for several moments. Sara could feel the weight of his silence pressing upon her heart. She heard him shift, settling back against the pillows. He said with a quiet sigh, “Your question is not entirely unexpected and certainly not one that I blame you for asking. My prospects when you married me were bad enough, but after this scandal with my grandfather?—”
“No!” Sara looked up, Nick’s misconception a painful reproach to her. “It has nothing to do with that or your prospects, but everything to do with me. There is something that I have to tell you, and then it will be you who wishes for a divorce.”
Nick did not receive this dramatic pronouncement in the grave manner that Sara anticipated. His taut features relaxed with relief. He was almost smiling, and Sara did not know how she was going to continue, how she could do this to him. Damn him! Did he have to look quite so adoring, so infernally trusting?
Flinging her embroidery down, she shoved to her feet. It seemed easier to continue when she paced restlessly about the room, when she did not have to look Nick directly in the eye.
“There are many things about me you don’t know, Nicholas.”
“Like the fact you are not a widow from Yorkshire?” Nick supplied amiably when she floundered again. “That your mother lives above a pawnshop in Bethnal Green? Or are you more worried about telling me of your recent history with my cousin Mandell?”
Sara whipped about to gape at Nick, stunned. His lips quirked in a lopsided smile, his expression so fond and foolish, Sara had to fight a strange desire to burst into tears.
“Then you already know everything? For how long?”
“Oh, since a day or two before our wedding.”
“And yet you married me anyway? Who could have told you such things about me or my family? You know more about me than Mandell ever did.”
“My cousin never had any occasion to visit Bethnal Green. You forget I am a frequent caller there. I was doing some of my investigations when I was accosted by a young boy named Palmer who tried to relieve me of my watch.”
“Davy,” Sara said darkly. “Why can’t that fool stick to robbing dead bodies? He possesses no talent for being a pickpocket.”
“I do agree he should choose another career. In any event, your brother must have observed our encounter in the street that day. He assumed I had replaced Lord Mandell in your affections and sought to use that knowledge to dissuade me from handing him over to the magistrate. Instead, David took me around to tea at your mother’s flat.”
“You met Mum, too?” Sara asked with a sinking heart.
“Yes, and Gideon. A daunting but charming parcel of rogues. One could do far worse for a collection of in-laws. In time, I daresay I shall grow quite fond of all of them.”
Sara stared at him, wondering if Nick had lost his wits. Or perhaps it was she. She felt a sudden need to sit down and sank upon the foot of the bed.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew all of this?” she asked. “Why did you let me go on lying to you?”
Nick squirmed and looked sheepish. “I discovered all that I did purely by chance, but I was afraid you would think I was spying on you.”
“Spying on me!” Sara gave a wild laugh. “Nick, you had every right to do so. I tricked you, lied to you again and again.”
“You told me you loved me. Was that untrue?”
“No!” One hot tear escaped to cascade down her cheek. “Those are the truest words I have ever spoken in my whole miserable life.”
“Then nothing else matters, my dear,” Nick said. He stretched out one hand to her, his eyes soft not with mere forgiveness, but with a loving acceptance of all that she was.
Suppressing a tiny sob, she went to him, allowing him to draw her into the comforting circle of his arm. Stretching out beside him, she buried her face against his chest and wept as she had not allowed herself to do since her days as a small girl.
Nick patted her back, pressing kisses against her hair. “Sara. Sara, my love, whatever is wrong now?”
“Nothing. Only I never fully appreciated what a remarkable man you are, Nick Drummond.”
“Oh. It is most agreeable to hear that, but I wish it would not make you cry. I do not know what I shall do with you if you turn into one of those weepy, sentimental females. Besides, you are getting my bandage wet.”
“S-sorry.” Sara hiccupped on a laugh and sat, dashing the tears from her eyes.
“That is better,” Nick said, sweeping one fingertip along the curve of her cheek. “Now I trust there shall be no more foolish talk of divorce. There are other acts that need to be passed in Parliament I would rather devote my energy to.”
“I know.” Sara straightened, easing herself off the bed. “Nick, I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us.”
“Nor do I, my love.”
