He said it lightly, as a jest, but the words settled into Cassandra’s heart with surprising resonance. Now that she was married, she belonged to her husband, and her cold, controlling father couldn’t threaten her, or drag her into dark forests to make her scared.
She looked at her prince, blinking, understanding that things would be different. This time, for the first time, she touched his hand. Their eyes locked, and promises passed between them, silent as secret wishes. Her husband—still a stranger in so many ways—quirked a half-smile, and she felt it in her heart.
“How are we to manage?” he murmured, cupping her cheek.
Did he mean the dancing? She thought he meant more than that, but maybe not.
Goodness, she hadn’t the first idea how to do such an exotic thing as dancing, and in front of so many people. Gideon leaned toward her, and she thought he meant to kiss her in front of everyone. That would be too much, especially if it was the passionate sort of kissing he’d done to her last night.
Gideon’s father interrupted the moment, urging his son to escort his bride to the center of the ballroom to begin the dancing. The musicians watched expectantly, and the guests cheered and applauded, making a din that rose to the rafters. Indeed, the flames on the candles shook, until she thought they would spill wax from the chandeliers.
The noise woke her father, who sat up with a stern expression as Gideon led her down from the dais. He held her elbow, a firm, steady guidance that enabled her to walk without tripping or fainting. Oh, God, to faint now as everyone watched and cheered!
“You mustn’t feel shy,” he said with another half-smile. “You’re beautiful as a summer day, and they’re all here to see you.”
“To see me stumble about?” She looked at her prince with wide eyes.
“You’ll do fine.” As he said this, he raised his golden brows, full of that manly confidence that was so intimidating and pleasing at once. One of his arms came around her waist, while the other trapped her hand. They faced each other. He stood so close. Yes, she thought. Oh, he is handsome.
The musicians pitched into a sprightly melody, not too fast, but not as slow as she’d hoped.
“This is the traditional Hastings wedding dance,” Gideon explained. “I’ll lead you. Just follow along.”
She tried to follow, clinging to his shoulder and pressing a sweaty palm to his. Her heavy wedding gown hampered her, but also masked some of her stumbles. In a short amount of time, with his guidance, she learned the sway of the dance, and how to follow the music. When she grew flustered, Gideon would say, “Look at me,” and he’d hold her gaze until she found the steps again.
In those moments, she studied his pale eyes, so different from her dark ones, and saw so many things. She saw that he had gray flecks just as she had green ones, and that humor danced in his gaze almost all the time, even when he was busy trying to rescue her from making a spectacle of herself in front of hundreds of guests.
But she was a spectacle. Gideon encouraged the other guests to join them, and she was grateful, because their dancing distracted from her lack of coordination. Did they know she’d spent the last dozen years in a convent, where dancing wasn’t permitted? Did they understand that her father had frowned on any gaiety or flirtation by the female sex?
His opinions hold no consequence for you anymore.
Other couples danced around them as the bright song repeated, smiling at them and crowding close. It didn’t bother her as much as she thought. In fact, she barely noticed them, because her husband held her gaze until the music ended. He gave her a playful twirl, and a great cheer went up.
“May we sit down again?” she asked over the shouting.
“For a short while,” he said.
He led her back to the table and pressed more wine upon her. They watched the dancing, sitting a bit closer now than they’d sat before. Every so often his knee touched hers, or his hand, and fleeting as it was, it affected her a great deal. She was his wife. He was her husband. Still to come: this nuptial night they were to spend together, when he might or might not hurt her in his masculine debauchery. It couldn’t be worse than the dancing, she thought.
Time passed as couples whirled and twirled, bright colors and brighter smiles. The musicians played more loudly, or maybe she was growing tired. She wondered what time it was. Gideon touched her arm and leaned close.
“My mother is gathering the ladies,” he said. “It’s time for you to retire.”
“Won’t you come with me?” She was confused. “Where will you sleep?”
“With you, silly goose. But for courtesy, the ladies take you upstairs early to get ready. It’s a traditional thing.” For the first time Cassandra could remember, she saw a blush upon his cheeks. “Go prepare for bed, and don’t be nervous, darling. Ignore whatever nonsense the ladies tell you.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” She watched his blush with fascination. It made him even handsomer, somehow.
“And for God’s sake, stop calling me Your Highness,” he said, even though, in his fine wedding regalia, he seemed very much a Highness. “We’re married now, Cassandra. Gideon will do just fine.”
“Yes, Sir. I mean, Gideon.” As she spoke, the women came to fetch her, making a great show of surrounding her and urging her from her chair. Another cheer went up from the assembled guests, this time of a much more ribald sort.
*** ***
Gideon left the ballroom soon after his bride. He knew Bertram would be waiting to spruce him up for his wedding night duties, but instead of turning right at the top of the stairs to go to his new bedroom, he turned left and took the other set of stairs, drifting down a quiet hallway to a room just past his mother’s. There was someone he’d missed at the wedding, someone he needed to see. He knocked softly and opened the door.
Adele looked up from an elaborate work of embroidery, already dressed for bed.
“Are you lost, Your Highness?” she asked. “Your new residence is in the east wing.”
He entered and closed the door behind him. “I need a moment. A moment to breathe.”
She put down her embroidery and came to him, and touched his forehead in a gesture she’d used since he was a young boy, as if she were testing his level of calmness. He did not feel very calm.
“You have to help me,” he said, stepping back from her. “I’m supposed to go to the princess now.”
“Well, then, you ought to go. You aren’t worried, are you? You know what to do.”
He gave her a look. “I’ve known what to do since I was a fourteen-year-old miscreant. It’s not that.” He struggled to find the words he needed, the words to express his dread of doing the wrong thing.
“You’ve never slept with a virgin. Is that it?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s part of it. And she’s not just a virgin.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Things frighten her, Adele. She hasn’t had a peaceful childhood. At the wedding dinner, she didn’t know how to dance. She was so afraid.”
“But you helped her.”
“I had to. I didn’t want her to feel anxious. I wanted to protect her. And the thing is...” He laced his fingers together, trying to explain the maelstrom of his thoughts. “The thing is, I’ve never felt that way before, that this was very, very important, and that I mustn’t allow her to be frightened or hurt. I felt it in my chest and shoulders, in my spine. It was a tightness, a heaviness of purpose that I can’t describe. Is that what marriage does to a person?”
“Your Highness,” said Adele, hiding a smile, “that’s what love does to a person.”
He waved a hand, dismissing such romanticisms. “I can’t be in love. I only met her two days ago.”
“Explain to me, then, why you fret about her welfare? Not only that, but you’ve been in my room for nearly five minutes and haven’t attempted so much as a tweak of my nipple. Good sir, are you turning into a devoted husband before you’ve even consummated your vows?”
The consummation. That was what weighed
heaviest upon him. His bride would be in the nuptial chamber with the ladies now, freshly bathed, having flower petals drawn about her hair to scent and relax her.
And here he was, in his secret lover’s room. But she spoke true: he hadn’t come for sex.
“You have to help me,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt her when I join with her. She’s already been hurt in so many ways. Not in that way, but she’s fearful of men and has a head full of claptrap from those nuns at her convent.”
Adele frowned. “That’s a shame.”