e previous night, lifting her face so he might kiss her lips. So charming, so inviting, his dark-eyed princess. He was already learning the taste of her, and memorizing the shape of her jaw with his fingertips.
Finding her receptive to his kisses, he dared to nibble her lower lip, coaxing her to open wider. She complied with a soft moan, as if he addled and pleased her at once.
“You see how perfectly we fit together,” he murmured against her mouth. “And how intimacy can feel close and pleasant. May I touch you...?” He rested a hand upon her breast, over her shift. “May I touch you here?”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re beautiful, and I want to. No, don’t turn away. Kiss me, Cassandra, while I caress you.”
He’d long ago learned how to touch women over their garments, how to tease and pinch, and drag his nails over their taut nipples to make them burn. He didn’t do that now, only stroked with careful reserve, not too hard, not too soft, stimulating the tips of her lovely breasts. As her body quivered and her breath grew short, he thought all those stolen hours of pleasure had been training for this, so he might make his shy, reluctant princess emit gasps of bliss against his lips.
“How does that feel?” he asked between kisses.
“Wicked.”
Even as she said the word, she pushed her silken breasts against his palms. With a low, approving growl, he abandoned her lips and lowered his head to moisten the sheer fabric atop her thrusting nipples. He circled one with his tongue, then the other, feeling her arousal through the thin layer of silk. He wanted to strip her and feel her breasts, all her curves, right against his skin. He wanted to hold her waist and plunge into her...
“That is...” He groaned as she shifted on his lap, brushing against his erection. “That is probably enough intimacy for one night. Enough, at least, to show you that it’s no violent act of torment.”
She blinked, coming back to her senses. “Oh,” she said, and this oh had far more pleasure in it than the one before. “You are...quite...”
He grinned when she was unable to finish her sentence. “Yes, I am quite. People have told me so on many occasions. Right now I’m quite exhausted.” He said exhausted, but he meant aroused beyond bearing. “I should return to my room and let you rest. No more crying now, darling. Only sleep.”
“Oh,” she repeated, not quite collected yet. She brushed a hand through her thick, dark hair. “Yes, I should sleep.”
“Indeed, because we’re getting married tomorrow.” He eased her off his lap and back into bed, covering the wet bits of her bodice with the sheets. Tomorrow, he could have what was under that virginal shift. By law, he must consummate a royal marriage in the line of succession within the first day. It seemed less of a hardship now that he’d gotten to know his princess better.
As for her, she was asleep in three minutes’ time, in the same huddle as before, only far less tearful. It was a promising sign.
Chapter Three
Cassandra tried not to shake as a smiling bevy of gentlewomen attired her for the wedding. They were happy, joyous, laughing, even breaking out in song as they curled her hair and smoothed every wrinkle from her gold-embroidered bodice and skirt. Her diamond tiara pinched, the gold-plated combs giving her a dull headache.
“How lovely you look, dear,” said Queen Eleanor, Gideon’s mother.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
She felt intimidated by the beautiful older woman, who was so confident in her speech, and comfortable in her kind, gentle fussing. I don’t remember my mother, she wanted to say. I don’t have a mother anymore, so I’m glad you’re here.
But she didn’t say those things aloud to the grand lady because her throat felt so tight. It wasn’t terror, not anymore. Prince Gideon had made her believe, over the course of last night’s visit, that he wouldn’t be capriciously cruel. But he was still a stranger, and after today, her happiness would more or less rest in his hands. She’d never hoped for the perfect love the bards sang about, but maybe she would find peace in her marriage. That would be good.
And her husband was handsome. She was starting to think he was very handsome indeed, and that his large, capable body, which scared her at first, was also a thing of beauty.
“Do you know the vows?”
Cassandra snapped back from her wanderings at the queen’s gentle question. “The vows?”
“You’ve practiced what you must say?” she asked. “Because in the moment, you’ll be nervous. I remember how difficult it was for me.”
Queen Eleanor’s lilac eyes were very like Gideon’s, although the shape was not the same. She also had a far more serious constitution than her son.
Cassandra cleared her throat and nodded. The heavy tiara didn’t move. “I’ve practiced the vows, ma’am, at the convent. I know the whole service.”
“Good.” The woman made an effort to keep her voice light as she searched Cassandra’s eyes. “And you know what will happen— What is expected—” She stopped and gave a breathless laugh. “It’s so unromantic to speak of what’s expected. Forgive me. I mean to say, do you know what will happen between you and my son once you retire to the nuptial chamber?”
“Oh, yes, I—I think I do.” Intimacy is more than kissing, darling. “I mean, I have the general idea.”
The queen continued to watch her, so she felt she must say more. “I know that it is supposed to...to be...not violent.”
“Goodness, no, it must not be. If it is, you must come to me at once for help. But I know the man I raised would not...” She cleared her throat. “How uncomfortable it is to discuss such things, but with your background, and your time in the convent, I wasn’t sure you’d understand that there’s nothing to fear.”
Your son visited me last night and told me so, ma’am. Then he kissed me and did wondrous, wicked things to my breasts. His arms felt very strong as he held me. I didn’t feel afraid.
She didn’t feel afraid then, but she wondered if she ought to feel afraid now. The queen looked at her with such gravity.
“It’s only one night, anyway,” said Cassandra, summoning her courage. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”
The queen’s gaze flicked to her lady’s maid. Cassandra thought she heard a titter from one of the ladies behind her, and she flushed to think they’d all been listening to her conversation. She feared they’d mock her now, and make fun, but they didn’t. Queen Eleanor touched Cassandra’s cheek.
“There’s nothing so magical as a pure-hearted bride,” she said. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper, so low none of the other ladies could hear. “Try to love my son. I’ve given him the same advice. Everything goes easier with love.”
*** ***
Cassandra felt the wedding went well, because she didn’t faint and she didn’t stammer, and she didn’t shy away from the Prince of Hastings’ gaze. Well, not very much.
In fact, she held his hand when they said their vows, and his fingers were warm, enveloping hers in a way that made her feel stronger in front of the great populace filling the chapel. Directly after the wedding, they made their way to the palace ballroom, a massive, ornate space decorated with bunting, flowers, and colorful banquettes of food.
Their families joined them: her father and his guests from Carlisle, the prince’s parents, and his younger brothers and sisters, who all looked so similar, so like Gideon, that she couldn’t remember their names.
There were two separate bands of musicians to play while the guests ate and drank at long tables. There was so much color and motion, and so many bouquets of flowers and greenery that the air felt alive. Cassandra dined beside her groom on a raised dais with the rest of the royal family, where everyone might watch them.
She found it nerve-wracking, but Gideon didn’t seem to mind, so she tried to ignore all the eyes studying her. This court knew Prince Gideon well, had watched him grow from a child, but she was someone new, and her father, alas, didn’t make a very fine example of the Carlisle royal family. He was too
loud and unmannerly, as he always was. Many of the men drank deeply and became jolly as the night went on, but her father drank more, so the servants ran to fill his wine glass every quarter hour.
Gideon encouraged her to eat and drink too, but she couldn’t. Oh, the food was fine and the wine was excellent. No one could say otherwise, but there was so much activity in the bright ballroom, and her new husband sat so close in his magnificent wedding clothes, his perfectly knotted cravat high upon his neck.
He touched her hand often, and she smiled when he did, but her lips wouldn’t quite curve the right way, so all her smiles were wobbly. He merely gave her a sympathetic look and stroked his fingers across hers.
After the guests had eaten their fill, the tables were cleared away, revealing a parquet floor that was swept of dinner scraps and polished with great alacrity. The two musical bands, which had performed on opposite ends of the ballroom, now consolidated into one band, tuning their instruments with a joyful noise.
“What’s happening?” Cassandra asked.
“It’s time for dancing,” her husband said.
Dancing? She’d hoped after the meal, gifts, and good wishes, that they might steal away from this pressing crowd, but it was not to be. In fact, it seemed that more people arrived in grand gowns and jewels, people, perhaps, who could not fit into the chapel to witness the ceremony.
“How long will they dance?” she asked, trying not to sound plaintive.
“Quite a while.” His eyes twinkled with sympathy. “But we needn’t stay the entire time. Once we’ve led the first set of dancing, we can retire.”
“We have to dance?” She gasped. “In front of everyone?”
“It is our wedding.” His smile faded, turned quizzical. “You don’t enjoy dancing?”
“I don’t know how to dance.” The wine made her voice sound higher than usual. “There was no dancing at the convent, and my father doesn’t approve of it.”
“Your father seems in no condition to object,” he said, casting a glance a few chairs down, where her father snored, slumped in his chair. “And I’m your husband now, so his opinions hold no consequence for you anymore.”