He started pacing, aware of time passing, and the press of responsibility. By law, he had to accomplish this tonight, before the sun rose. “We’re little more than strangers,” he fretted. “It’s a bloody lot of nonsense.”
“Are you attracted to your princess, at least? Or are you afraid you won’t be able to—”
“I’ll be able to,” he said, coming to a stop by the window. “She arouses me beyond bearing. But what if she can’t? What if she won’t? What if I hurt her and she despises me forever?”
“Dear boy, take a breath.” Adele rose and crossed to him, taking his hand and patting his fingers. The two of them looked out at the back gardens in the moonlight. “I know from experience that you’re a masterful lover,” she said. “You’re renowned for your bedroom prowess.”
“Yes, as well as the dimensions of my ‘prowess,’ which won’t be a benefit tonight.”
“Shh. Don’t speak ill of a wonderful thing.” She smiled. “You have all the skills you need to make her happy. You’ve studied well on the art of lovemaking, as many bonny wantons in the Kingdom of Hastings can attest. So any fears you’re feeling now are born of love.” She tilted her head. “Goodness, I never thought I’d see the day you’d fall in love. And with your own wife, no less.”
“If this is love, I don’t enjoy it.”
But he didn’t deny her words. He was possibly in love. He wanted to fly to his wife’s side as much as he wanted to die of apprehension.
“What do I say to her?” he demanded impatiently. “Help me. What will make her relax? What will make her—” Love me back. He wanted the princess to want him, and to look at him with pleasure, not terror, when tonight’s duty was done.
“I don’t know, Giddy,” Adele replied, so much calmer than him. “My advice would be to go slowly, to speak softly, and look in her eyes. Make her feel exquisite, then explain what is to happen when she’s aroused enough not to lose her nerve. Tell her that nothing between you is sinful. You must emphasize that, since she’s been taught otherwise. You must give her permission to let go, if she’s to find her own pleasure.”
“Her own pleasure?” He threw up his hands. “Must I have that pressure on top of everything else? I only hope to take her virginity without injuring her.”
Adele tsked. “I’m certain both of you can avoid bodily injury, although virgins sometimes bleed. Be prepared for that, so you don’t have to run for the smelling salts.”
He tsked back at her, but she only smiled.
“I’m glad you were my governess,” he said after a moment. “You taught me well.”
“And you were an excellent student.”
There was a sense of finality in her words, and a finality in this meeting that they both felt. “I’m not sure...” He paused and took a breath. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to visit you anymore, at least in the near future. It might be better if I don’t.”
“I agree it might be better, dear Gideon. I’m most happy to return to being your ex-governess, with all the rights and privileges that entails. And, of course, I’ll always stand your friend should you need a sympathetic ear, or some womanly advice from someone who is not your mother.”
She spoke so tenderly, he found he couldn’t reply for a moment because of the tightness in his throat.
“I think it’s time for you to go to your bride,” Adele prompted. “Just remember: proceed slowly, and bring her along with you. Give her so much pleasure that she can’t feel discomfort even if it comes. I know that’s very much within your abilities, Your Highness.” She nudged him toward the doorway. “Your princess awaits.”
Chapter Four
The women accompanied Cassandra into a vast, dark-hued bedroom, the royal heir’s nuptial chamber. Her husband’s bedchamber. It reminded her of him because of the manly decor and solidity of the furniture. She had a suite next door, where the ladies had bathed and dressed her. There was a pathway between the rooms, not unlike the pathway he’d used to visit her in the other wing.
He’d be visiting her tonight, and she tried to feel all right about that. This was womanhood and marriage. He’d kiss her and touch her, and then...what?
Something that hurt, perhaps, so babies might come. The sisters had told her this was her duty, so her husband could have sons and daughters to carry on the family line. But the specifics of the act remained a mystery, referred to by the sisters in such vague terms as “joining,” “bedding,” or “marital congress.”
Once the ladies had tucked her under the covers, they waited in a gossiping, giggling cluster beside the door for the groom to arrive. Cassandra rested, pretending to sleep, although she’d never be able to sleep.
When the door opened with a faint click, she sat up straighter. The prince came in as the ladies filed out with words of blessing and congratulations. She could see more people outside the door, men and women, including the prince’s parents and her own father.
She stiffened as they stared in at her. Would they enter? No, thank God. Gideon bid them good evening and shut the door. He stood a moment facing away from her, staring at the doorjamb before he turned. Cassandra realized she was holding her breath. This broad-shouldered stranger was her husband, so suddenly and unchangeably.
He moved from the door and crossed toward her, wearing a faint smile. That smile allowed her to breathe again, and to study him with a sort of wonder.
In place of his formal wedding clothes, he wore a velvet dressing gown of medium blue with embroidery in a pattern of vines, taken from the Hastings royal seal. She’d changed into nightclothes also, although her ivory shift was not as grand, nor as substantial as his princely attire.
“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.” He reached for her hand as he sat on the bed. He looked so different in his nightclothes, so much more male, that she had to steel herself not to shy away.
They stared at each other. She wanted to cry out, please do it now, whatever you will do to me, so I won’t have to dread it anymore. But such histrionics would embarrass both of them. Instead she gave him a wobbly smile and said, “So, we are married now.”
“Indeed. It was a lovely wedding. Everyone had a good time. My family seems to like you very much.”
She nodded. “All of Hastings has been exceedingly kind and welcoming.”
“But this talk is so polite. Let’s both admit that we’re exhausted, and that these royal receptions go on for six or seven hours too long.”
She liked the bold, mischievous way he talked sometimes, and the sparkling glint in his eyes. The servants had built up the fire to burn bright this wedding evening, so he had even more of a golden glow. He’d looked that way all night, until she felt plain and dark sitting beside him.
And standing in front of everyone for the dancing? That had been an excruciating trial.
“Thank you for helping me to dance tonight,” she said. “It wasn’t nearly as scandalous an activity as the nuns made it sound.”
“Scandalous? What is it with these nuns? Dancing’s a great deal of fun when you learn it properly, and it’s good exercise. You got the way of it by the end.”
He drew her from the bed and into his arms before she knew what he was up to, and led her to the center of the room. He hummed the opening bars of their wedding dance, a tune she’d always remember, and guided her through the steps as he had in the ballroom, using the motion of his body and the prompting of his arms.
But it was not the same, because
she felt undressed in her wispy nightgown, and his bare chest showed at the collar of his dressing gown, just where her eyes rested. He was golden even there, with a smattering of pale bronze fur. How bizarre. How lovely. How different men were.
“I can tell you’ll grow very good at dancing,” he said, just as she stumbled. Both of them laughed. “It will only take practice, and a few lessons. We don’t outlaw dancing here.”
He dipped her over his arm and she stared up at him, her neck bared to his gaze. He smiled that strange smile and righted her, and she thought, now he will take me to bed. Her own smile wavered, because she meant to be brave but wasn’t quite managing it. Your body will be his, the sisters had said. Pray to God while it’s happening, and keep your mind pure.
But instead of the bed, he took her to the window, and pointed out at all the carriages crowded into the courtyard. “No one has left yet,” he said, and indeed, the sounds of celebration still carried from the lower hall. “Do you know that in olden times in Hastings, generations ago, royal wedding nights were witnessed by the king’s council and other invited guests?”
“What? Witnessed? What does that mean?”
“It means that when the royal couple went to bed, they didn’t go alone, as we are now.” He looked around the bedroom, grimacing. “The councilmen and guests stayed until the groom had carnal knowledge of his bride, and took the bloodied sheets away as evidence that the royal marriage had been satisfactorily consummated.”
She shuddered at the word bloodied, and wondered with growing panic what carnal knowledge meant.
“I know,” he said in sympathy. “And you thought the dancing was embarrassing. Fortunately for both of us, my great-great-grandmother Queen Violetta and her consort put an end to the tradition after their wedding night. They said it was cruel to invade the privacy of newlywed couples in such a way.” He cupped her chin as she bit her lower lip. “The first time a couple makes love should be special and private, whether it’s a royal alliance or not.”