An Unacceptable Arrangement (6 page)

Cassandra stopped dancing and stared at him.
It took every ounce of self-control she had not to spat upon him.
“Father tell me, why am I standing here in an ugly wedding dress,
at what is basically a brunch, soon to be deflowered by a complete
stranger? Explain to me please,” she begged, desperately hoping he
would give her some reasonable explanation to hold on to.

Her father looked at her in shock and laughed
weakly. “Such language, girl! Your new husband is a good man. I
have business dealings with him and have found him to be most
honorable, a rare quality in the world today. Besides, you are a
very ungrateful child. Are you not at all pleased with this lovely
luncheon that your mother arranged?”

“I agree that this event is a very nice
luncheon but it’s hardly a wedding. Papa, if you are facing
financial challenges, then yes of course I would be content with
whatever you were able to put together. But if not, I would have to
ask why I am being pushed out of your life so quickly and in such a
shameful fashion and being sent so far away? I will ask you one
last time while we can still speak as father and daughter; explain
to me please why you did this?”

“There, there dear, remember your brother is
having a grand wedding in the fall.” This apparently was not the
right thing to say. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed and she began to give
him the hateful look he’d seen as they’d headed into the chapel.
Still he soldiered on. “Think of it child, you’ll be a part of that
wedding and will be able to have all of the fun of a big wedding at
that time. So you see, it will all work out and you haven’t missed
out on anything.”

“I am sending my regrets, Father.” Cassandra
responded coldly. “I will not be attending that wedding or any
other upcoming family event. My future is in Germany at my
husband’s side.”

“But you’ll still be in London for the
wedding.”

“Will I? And if so, why would I want to see
what kind of wedding you could throw if you loved your child?” Her
father recoiled as if he’d been slapped in the face.

“Goodbye, Father,” Cassandra said with great
finality just as the music ended. Being the well-bred young
noblewoman that she was, she curtseyed to her father one last time
and walked away. She did not look back. She approached her mother
and curtseyed and made a proper thank you for the truly delicious
luncheon. She almost became emotional; looking upon her mother’s
face for what would be the last time.

She said her goodbyes and then went to her
husband and said something. Lord Newblythe watched Sir Frederic
help Cassandra gather her things and walk her out to their
carriage. He looked back at her father and spoke to Cassandra but
she shook her head no and climbed into the carriage.

Eveline came and stood beside him and they
watched the carriage pull away. Cassandra would always look out the
window and wave to them as long as she could still see them, but
she did not do that this time. They saw her profile looking
straight ahead as the carriage pulled forward.

Eveline looked at her husband with concern.
“Do you think she will ever forgive us?”

“Don’t worry my dear; Cassandra will have the
wedding of her dreams when she reaches Germany. And the child will
soon see that I have done right by her. Why, she’ll be sitting in
our parlor sipping tea within a fortnight. I’m sure of it.” In
truth, Arthur wasn’t at all sure. He had been taken aback at the
vehemence of Cassandra’s objections to this union. As predicted,
her practical nature had taken over and she’d obeyed her father and
done her duty but her ongoing anger had shocked him. He too
wondered if she’d ever forgive them.

Lady Newblythe looked around with sadness.
“She didn’t even stay to cut the cake.” She bowed her head and
began to weep. This was not how her beautiful daughter’s wedding
day was supposed to go. Lord Newblythe put his arm around his wife
and patted her as they watched their daughter’s carriage turn the
corner and go out of sight. He could not have denied that a tear or
two also wetted his eye.

Cassandra was glad
her husband had provided a closed carriage. It was beginning to
look like rain again. Frederic was sitting across from her looking
quite dashing as the carriage sped through the countryside. Finally
she was alone with her new husband, although he wasn’t the kind of
husband she’d had in mind though. Rather than being loving and
kind, he gave off an aura of solid steel, a strict sense of
command. She peeked at him from under her eyelashes, suddenly
feeling very young and unsure. He did not strike her as one who
would just go along with the wishes of another. She began to
suspect that this wedding had been all his idea. She thought back
to the ball, which must have been the first time he’d gotten a good
look at her. He must have decided then and there that she was to be
his wife and then made it happen. She realized that her new husband
was not a man to take lightly.

She looked around; they appeared to be
heading towards London. Were they leaving on a honeymoon, or headed
to a hotel or a rented house? She knew absolutely nothing about
this man or what their life together would be, not to mention his
expectations of her. She watched him as he turned to say something
to the driver. She supposed that Sir Frederic was going to demand
his marital rights this very night. In fact, she was certain of it
based on the way he’d looked at her all day. She was not ignorant;
she had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen on her
wedding night. She and Nanette had been filled in with great detail
when Paulette had returned from her honeymoon. Thanks goodness,
because no information had been forthcoming from her
mother. 

Frederic, as if reading her thoughts, took
her hand in his and leaned forward to stare into her eyes.
Cassandra looked down shyly. A part of her was terrified; another
part began to tingle. She had just been kissed for the first time
at the altar and within a few short hours, maybe even sooner, she
was expected to allow this virtual stranger to have his way with
her. Cassandra cringed and flushed. She didn’t know if she could do
this, but she realized that she had no choice. She would have to
stop being an infant and just allow whatever was going to happen
unfold. If she was old enough to be married, she was old enough to
deal with all that entailed.

She closed her eyes and shuddered, trying to
imagine being unclothed in front of him. She prayed that their
bridal chamber would be dark. She thought of lying back and
allowing him to look upon and caress her body in whatever way he
wished. She knew that a part of his body was supposed to enter into
a part of hers. Would it hurt? What if they did not fit together?
What if it didn’t work? What if she didn’t please him? And she knew
that just lying there wasn’t going to be enough. She would be
expected to respond and to... do things... to him. What kind of
things? She should have asked Nanette’s sister more questions. She
began to tremble.

“Are you cold, my darling?” her husband
asked. He removed his cloak and wrapped it around her. He looked
closely at Cassandra. She didn’t look cold; in fact she looked
rather overheated. Her face was quite flushed. She looked
embarrassed. As he studied her expression he realized what she was
fretting about. She was a virgin and tonight their wedding night.
Their kiss at the altar had undoubtedly been her first. She was
expecting him to claim his marital rights and the thought would
naturally unnerve her, especially since they were basically
strangers.

Frederic took her hand in his and gave her a
reassuring smile. At the age of thirty, he had ample experience in
the art of love; however, most of his partners had been mature
women of experience. Claiming a maiden would be new to him. He felt
himself growing heated as he imagined entering her for the first
time. She would forever be his and his alone. He realized that he
should say something to her, something reassuring. But what to say
to a highborn, sheltered young lady as she faced the unknown?
“Everything will be all right Cassandra, do not worry. I am a most
considerate lover, I assure you.”

Cassandra’s flush deepened. He knew what she
was thinking! Suddenly they hit a hole in the road and the carriage
bounced. Cassandra yelped as she was lifted out of her seat and
slammed back down. Frederic looked at her most curiously.

“Is something wrong, my dear?” he asked.

She bit her lip and shook her head no,
unwilling to speak. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

Frederic wondered why it had been painful for
her to bounce in her seat. Did she have, perhaps, a sore bottom?
Arthur had alluded to her temperament; could there have been a
showdown between father and daughter? Perhaps the young lady had
balked at the wedding announcement and had to be taken over her
father’s knee. Just then they hit another pothole and Cassandra
again yelped a second time as her bottom again made contact with
the well-padded seat.

Frederic smiled to himself. He was rather a
connoisseur of bare-bottomed discipline. He came from a large
family and had observed his sisters’ punishments and even dispensed
a few whenever his father was away. He knew for certain that his
mother bowed to his father for correction as his little wife would
bow to him. It was how things were done. He would have to make sure
that the candles stayed lit tonight as he undressed his new bride.
He intended to give all of her - including her bottoms - a most
thorough inspection.

Cassandra noted that the carriage had entered
London. It turned on to a fashionable street and was slowing down.
She realized how close they were to the shops. Did they have a
house here? If so, it could be quite fun! They pulled into the
portico of a large French Provincial-style townhouse. It was quite
charming with several lavish flowerbeds and two potted trees near
the entrance. There were gardens visible from the portico and a
carriage house at the end of the drive. A handful of servants came
out and stood in a line, waiting to greet them. Cassandra counted;
there were but ten. Was that even doable?

The carriage rolled to a stop and a footman
placed down steps and opened the door. Frederic disembarked and
then helped her down. They approached the servants and her husband
introduced them one by one. There was Helmut who, despite his
German moniker, was a classic British butler. Cassandra was pleased
that she’d be able to converse with at least one member of the
staff. Then she met the housekeeper, who seemed pleasant enough but
spoke only German. There was red-cheeked Cook, an Irish woman who
beamed at her, openly pleased that the master had taken a wife. Her
husband introduced their footman - the groom who had driven their
carriage and was even now seeing to the horses – as Wolfgang. There
was also a couple of chambermaids, a couple of parlor maids and two
more male servants. Cassandra was most relieved that he’d hired
basically a British staff, and she hoped the Germans in her
husband’s employ would help her master their language.

Frederic quickly showed her around the house,
which was large but not quite large enough to get lost in. She
found that she liked it; it was cozy as opposed to the grand house
she’d grown up in. It was clear though that she was going to have
to get over the lifestyle she was accustomed to as the daughter of
a Duke. Her heart sank and she flushed. There was no denying that
her father had given her away to live beneath her station. Didn’t
he love her? And what was his hurry, she wondered? She could
certainly have done better than this.

She found the house rather sparsely furnished
but very clean. But as her husband gave her the grand tour
something gave her a feeling of unease. She couldn’t put her finger
on it but it kept niggling at the back of her mind. She was
distracted from her reverie when Frederic escorted her to the
dining room. Cook had laid out a substantial tea and Cassandra was
surprised to realize she was quite famished. The butler smiled
knowingly as he served, saying something about how wedding couples
are usually too nervous to eat much at the wedding itself. She
found that she quite liked him; he was formal and correct but
without being stuffy.

She looked at her husband and smiled and
spoke. “My husband - oh my goodness, I have a husband. I can’t
believe I am married!”

Frederic beamed at her, “Ach, I too cannot
believe I have taken a wife, and such a splendid one!” He smiled as
she flushed, pleased. As he relaxed, his accent became more
pronounced.

“We have so much to speak of, Sir Frederic, a
lifetime to catch up on.”

“And we have a lifetime to do so, my dear,”
he reminded her. He could see her growing weariness. After they
finished tea he showed her to her rooms. “Why don’t you rest,
Cassandra? Dinner will be served at eight. Perhaps a nap would be
in order?”

She smiled at him gratefully. In her room,
she was introduced to a German woman named Liesl who was to be her
lady’s maid. Liesl smiled and bobbed in a curtsey. She appeared to
be in her thirties, was tall and plain and wore her blond hair in
braids wrapped around her head. Cassandra’s new rooms were
adequate, consisting of a rather sparsely furnished guest room and
an outer room. There was a nice sized bed, a large armoire and
dresser, various chairs and tables and fresh flowers were set all
around. Liesl had clearly done her best to make the suite cheery
for her new mistress. Cassandra wondered how many other servants
there were who hadn’t been in the lineup outside.

Suddenly a wave of homesickness struck her.
She hadn’t felt it this keenly since her first night in boarding
school when she was eight years old. Liesl was bustling about the
room and didn’t see the tears come to her Ladyship’s eyes. She
quickly blinked them away. She was a mature married woman now, and
trying very hard to appear grown up.