A Scandal In the Making

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  "All that matters in the end is that you please your husband," the maid countered, knowing far too much about Berkshire business than she ought. "The rest will take care of itself. I understand you are afraid. Most women are and with good reason, but I also know that you are up to the task."

  Cassandra rather doubted that, but she would do her best to assume the new role that had been assigned to her. After all, she was perfectly dressed for the part. She stood before her new dressing chamber mirror clad only in the filmiest of nightrails - if one could even call this frothy confection she wore a nightrail - and did her best to prepare for what came next.

  This was Evan, after all. He would not hurt her. More than that, she knew him. And yet none of that made the fluttering in her stomach settle down. Neither did the knock at her chamber door.

  "Come in," she called as Mellisande gave a curtsey and scurried away, likely expecting the visitor to be none other than Evan himself, especially if the wink she gave Cassandra was any indication.

  So when Aunt Louisa appeared at the door, Cassandra was more than a little surprised. "Louisa. What are you doing here? I thought you were exhausted from the trip and the festivities. You said that you wished to rest tonight."

  "I am and I shall, but not quite yet." Today the older woman wore an emerald green dress with a matching turban topped by the largest feather Cassandra had ever seen. "Just wanted to make certain you were doing well, child. I fear that you do not go into this marriage with as open of a heart as I might like, and that worries me."

  "Do not fret," Cassandra attempted to assure her, all the while her stomach churning in fear. "I know what comes next and, while I do not know what all it entails, I am certain I am prepared."

  "Or not," Aunt Louisa sniffed, waving a hand in the air. "Today was a lot of change for you. Including this." She rested the weight of her body on her cane and there was a weariness around her eyes that Cassandra did not doubt. Or like. The woman had seen much in her seven decades on this earth, possibly far more than Cassandra ever would.

  Cassandra pulled the belt on her wrapper tighter, trying not to shiver again when she thought of Evan preparing himself just as she was at this very moment. "It is an enormous change for all of us."

  "But none more so than you, child." Louisa shook her head as if still unsatisfied, even though the outcome of the day was precisely what she desired. "I have said from the first that I believe this is a good match, though I do wish that there was more affection between you two. However, you are not presently attempting to kill each other so that shall have to suffice."

  For some reason, that rather dry observation made Cassandra smile. "Thank you, Aunt Louisa. I shall be fine. It is only Evan, after all."

  "Trust in him, child." Louisa squeezed her hand warmly. "And all will be well." Then, with one last smile, the older woman began thumping off down the hall just as she had only a few weeks before when Cassandra had first announced her desire for a husband.

  Only then, Cassandra had been in a family suite, not the one belonging to the marchioness. She had also been faced with the prospect of leaving Berkshire - and Evan - behind, not becoming its mistress. Or Evan's lover. Not to mention his wife.

  Reaching out, she traced her image in the reflecting glass with her fingertips. What did Evan see when he looked at her? Did he see more than the physical, which in her case was a far cry from anything approaching a diamond of the first water? Did he see the woman who had hurled insults in his face and dubbed him the dragon, thinking it better than an eel? The woman he had once called the very bane of his existence and swore he would see tossed out of England completely? Or did he see a woman he could bed and perhaps some day care for, even if only a little? Did he find her attractive at all, even a little bit? Enough to work up some modicum of desire for her physically? Honestly, Cassandra did not know, nor could she guess. They had not spoken a word about any of this. She wasn't certain they ever would.

  She did know that she found Evan extremely attractive. She always had. There was no reason to lie about such a thing. It would also be no chore to lie with him, provided she could conquer her fears, of course. And if he never loved her? Never even really desired her as he desired his many mistresses? Well, there were worse fates. After all, some men beat their wives. Cassandra was fairly certain Evan would never beat her.

  Though he might just stop her heart with his deliciously masculine body.

  Cassandra had seen Evan just once without his shirt on, though he likely did not even realize it. That momentous day had occurred at the Enwright house party during the evening of the Fairhaven Cup races. Even after the sun went down, everyone was hot and sweaty and, for the most part, completely foxed out of their minds. Save for Evan. He had been in a somewhat grumpy mood for reasons she could not fathom and was snapping at everyone. Including Aunt Louisa. When Cassandra had sought him out that steamy evening to make certain he was well, she found him by the estate's lake, stripping off his clothes and making ready to dive into the cool, clear water.

  He had almost glowed in the moonlight, his tanned skin shimmering like bronze. She had been fascinated watching his muscles move, his strong arms bending and flexing as if there was no task too great for him to accomplish. She had watched him for as long as she had dared, at least until he reached for the waistband of his trousers and began to undo them. Then, she had left, but not before catching a fleeting glimpse of his massive member, proud and erect and more enticing than she could have even imagined.

  That image of him had both terrified and aroused her that night. Aroused because he was such a perfect physical specimen and terrified because she knew then that she could never wrest control of her life or the Gray Ladies from him. He was too strong and too powerful. Too accustomed to getting precisely what he desired from life.

  Now, the idea of lying with the man she had only glimpsed in the darkness made Cassandra's legs quake and her thighs begin to dampen. She did not want them to, for that scared her as well. She did not want him to know that she desired his body either, for that would give him even more power over her, power he did not need.

  Especially not if she was planning on taking a lover in time.

  No, she did not wish to desire her husband, for she was fairly certain that often times, desire led to love. And love led to heartbreak - something else she did not want or need in her life.

  However, she did crave knowledge, knowledge of how relations were between a man and a woman. She had a very good idea that Evan could teach her a great many useful things in that regard as well. Knowledge she might need one day if she ever worked up the courage to take a lover other than her husband. So she needed to do this, no matter how afraid she was.

  As she heard Evan's footfalls on the other side of the door, Cassandra blew out a long breath and moved to the bed to await her husband and his amorous intentions. She could do this. She knew she could. Well, she hoped so anyway.

  Chapter Eight

  Evan paused at the door that led to Cassandra's chambers from his own suite of rooms. His wife's chambers. It was difficult to imagine that he was married, let alone wedded to the woman who had made his life a living hell at times over the last year. Yet he was. And now, he was about to enter her chambers, strip her naked and bed her so that the venerable Berkshire line could continue, as well as ensuring that he secured his claim to the marquisate.

  There were, Evan decided, far worse fates in the world.

  In fact, despite his earlier reservations, he had discovered that he was actually somewhat anticipating this night. He was a man after all and Cassandra was a beautiful woman. In fact, her beauty and lush curves had been one of the first things he had noticed about her during their first contentious days together back in London. Also, it wasn't as if Evan hadn't imagined bedding her before this, wondering what she would be like when she was naked and writhing beneath him. In fact, now that he thought back a bit, he had fantasized about lying with her quite often. Probably more than was wise whe
n she was merely his ward.

  After all, Cassandra was a delectable, sensual woman. He had never thought otherwise. In fact, he might very well have paid her court had circumstances been different and had he met her in the time before he had become Berkshire. Then again, he doubted that her challenging intellect and sharp wit, not to mention her even sharper tongue, would have been any different in other circumstances. Cassandra was simply Cassandra, and there was no changing her at this point in her life. Nor would he want to. After all, he rather liked that she was a strong, determined woman who gave him no quarter most days.

  On the other hand, her temperament also left him with some very serious questions to consider, especially this evening.

  How would she react to him bedding her? Evan had been pondering that question all day and had not come up with a satisfactory answer as of yet. The truth was, he had no idea how his new wife would take to bedsport. She was still an innocent. He was certain enough of that, but he hoped that she would not be repulsed by him. Of all of the possible outcomes, Evan decided that was the least palatable of them all.

  She had said that she was agreeable to the activities necessary to beget a child, but was she truly? Because for as much as he knew of her, there was still much he did not know - including how she felt about this particular activity.

  Or even what she knew about the act itself. After all, she had a spinster aunt who had looked after her for a time when her father's health began to decline. No telling what sort of nonsense the old woman had filled Cassandra's head with.

  Deciding that dithering about was not doing either of them any good, Evan gave a short rap on the door and then pushed it open, not even bothering to wait for her reply. It was a boorish thing to do, but he would rather her continue her already occasionally bad opinion of him than to realize that he was nervous about this night.

  "I bid you enter." Cassandra's voice was little more than a soft whisper as Evan stepped into the darkened room - and into what looked like a fairy tale.

  His wife's chambers were the same dusky rose color that he remembered from his childhood visits to Brambly Fields. Tonight, a roaring fire glowed brightly in the grate, heating the room to almost summer-like conditions, but otherwise, everything else was precisely the same as he remembered from his youth. The same light wood furniture covered in damask in various shades of rose and pink stripes. The same pastoral paintings on the walls. And the same massive bed that dominated the room.

  Now, Cassandra sat perched on the edge of the bed, her flowing, sheer white nightrail and satin wrap a bright contrast to the deep rose counterpane. A few branches of candles had been placed about the room, casting deep shadows in the farthest corners but dappling her lovely face with a flickering light. She seemed a bit paler than normal, but then, the dim light was likely playing tricks on his eyes.

  Her lush, auburn hair was unbound and fell to her waist, just as he imagined that it would. Her wrapper, which was parted at the neck, allowed him a glimpse of her creamy skin, her swan-like neck far more graceful than he had remembered. But it was her magnificent breasts that caught his attention. They were, in a word, delectable. He could see her dusky nipples, shadowy beneath a chemise so short and thin that it might as well not have existed at all. And they were his. All his.

  She was his. She was his wife.

  Evan was instantly hard, his cock throbbing more than it had in recent memory.

  "I did not hear you, Cassie. Forgive me." He made his voice just as soft as hers, not wishing to break the spell she was weaving with this tantalizing setting - if that was indeed what she was attempting to do, for he wasn't yet completely certain. He took several more steps into the room. "You look...lovely." It was an inane thing to say to a woman that he was about to bed, but he felt that he needed to say something.

  Cassandra nodded. "Thank you." Then, to Evan's complete surprise, she stood and dropped her robe into a puddle of fabric at her feet. Backlit by the fire, he could see every luscious curve of her body and his hands itched to simply reach out and take what was now his. "We may begin whenever you wish. I will not fight or resist you, Evan. All I ask is that you be gentle. Or as gentle as possible, for I know the first time for a woman is painful. Please. I know that I do not have the right to make such a request, but..." She seemed almost meek in her request, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear her words.

  Evan shook his head, the fire of need that had been raging inside of him moments before now nothing more than banked embers. No. This was wrong. All of it so very, very wrong.

  This was not how he had imagined this night would begin. He had imagined Cassandra coming to him with breathless anticipation, not fear. He had imagined her eagerly begging him to bed her, not act as if she was going to the gallows to face her death.

  More than that, this was not the Cassandra that Evan had come to know and enjoy arguing with over the past year. This was not the Cassandra who rode astride Marigold as if the very hounds of hell were on her heels across the estate's frozen fields. It was as if she was suddenly afraid of him, which was absurd. She had never been one to shy away from a conflict, especially with him. Evan had simply assumed that she would bring that same spirit to the bedchamber. He was disappointed to realize that in bed, she was likely to be just another milk and water miss.

  Though why he was disappointed, he could not say. After all, this was a marriage of convenience and not a love match. They had both known that going in and yet, Evan had somehow expected more. Especially from a fiery woman like Cassandra.

  Evan reached for the tie on his banyan but then stilled his hands and looked closer at the woman standing before him, taking her full measure and not simply accepting what he saw on the surface. This was Cassandra after all, and there was always far more to her than whatever first met the eye. He knew that by now. Therefore, he decided to take his time in studying her before he disrobed.

  She was obviously aroused. He could tell that by the way her nipples pebbled and poked at the thin fabric of her chemise. He could also smell her, the musky scent of her damp sex, indicating that she was likely wet - for him, of all bloody imaginable things. However, now that he was closer to her, he could also see that she was clearly terrified. Though terrified of him or of the idea of lying with him he could not be certain.

  This was not right. Evan was many things, most of them not good, but he was no monster. He would not bed a woman who either did not wish to be bedded at all or, in particular, bedded by him. Oh, he and Cassandra would eventually have to mate in order to produce the required heir. On the other hand, he reasoned to himself, that action did not necessarily have to take place tonight. He would rather have a willing bedmate than an unwilling one. Especially if a little talking and a lot of patience might provide him the results he desired.

  For in truth, if this was the Cassandra he would receive in the bedchamber? Then he was far less enthused at the prospect than he had been mere moments ago.

  Evan gestured to the bed. "Cassandra. Please. Sit." She looked at him cautiously but then did as he bade. He noticed that she did not pick up her wrapper but instead left the silken garment pooled on the floor as if she fully expected him to eventually ravish her. She did, however, cross her arms over her chest as if she was afraid of him noticing her breasts. Well, it was far too late for that, though he did not tell her so. "What is wrong, Cassie? This is not like you."

  She looked away from him for a moment before turning back as she bit her lip. "Logically, I know that I must lie with you. It is a requirement of a wife and particularly as your marchioness. I also know what is required for me to become with child. I knew all of that, and I thought I was prepared. I told myself that I was. And yet..."

  Evan felt a peculiar sensation twist in his gut. He did not like this. Not at all. "And yet what, Cassie? As I have told you from the very first time we met, I cannot help you with anything if you do not talk to me first. You know that I will not hurt you. I might be your dragon, but I am not a dra
gon of the worst sort. After all this time, you know that. Or I would hope that you do."

  "I know. And I do trust you. With my life." She tilted her chin up and Evan caught a glimpse of the strong and defiant Cassandra he knew so well. So, not gone then, but perhaps just in hiding. He could deal with that. Then, just as quickly, she looked down, the brief spark going out of her once more. "And yet I am...afraid."

  "Afraid of what?" Evan kept his voice gentle. He hadn't even been aware that Cassandra could be afraid - of anything. She was by far the strongest woman he had ever encountered. Far stronger than those boring debutantes that had been paraded in front of him from the moment he had entered London Society last Season.

  "Of...you." Her voice trembled and the prickling sensation in Evan's gut became a sharp pain.

  Surprising himself a bit, Evan rose and then dropped to his knees in front of Cassandra just as he had the other night when he had proposed to her. He never put himself in a submissive position to anyone, but he also did not wish to bring any more fear to Cassandra than he already had.

  He might not love her, but he did not wish to see her fear him, either. Unfortunately, his position also brought him in very close proximity to her delightfully long legs and he felt his pulse leap again. However, he willed his body to behave and looked up into her eyes, hoping to allay her fears.

  "I will not harm you, Cassie. After all of the time you have spent in my company, surely you know that. I will also be gentle with you or as gentle as I can be. Please. Trust me." At least he hoped that she did and would again.

  Nodding, Cassandra bit her lip and once more, Evan found himself wondering again what her kiss would taste like. If he had any hope of finding out, he knew he had best bring his unruly thoughts and body under control.

  "I know that, Evan, and I do trust you. Truly, I do." She touched a finger to her temple. "In here. But in here?" Now she touched that same finger to the area over her heart. "I am afraid. Marriage was always a distant thought for me so I never gave it much consideration. When I did, I imagined myself wed to a calm man, perhaps the vicar's son if I was lucky." She shook her head then, so she missed the dark look that crossed his face at the mention of another man. "Never did I imagine myself wed to a marquess or even a baron for that matter. And certainly not to a man like you."