An Unacceptable Arrangement Read online

  Eveline did not look as certain as her husband. She feared Cassandra’s temper almost as much as she did her husband’s. And if she knew her daughter, Cassandra was not going to take well to this news.

  Chapter 3

  Cassandra was still a child. This humiliating punishment had been a vivid reminder of that fact. She still had to obey her papa even if it ruined her life. A girl waited her entire life for her wedding day. She and her mother had been planning it since she was old enough to talk. Now it would be some sordid, hurried affair, thrown together at the last moment and held in secret. And for what reason? No reasonable explanation had been given. She would have to leave behind the life she knew to go live in Germany. The presentation at court, the ball last night - those two events would be her only glimpse into British high society. She would drop out as quickly as she had entered it, never to be seen again. At age eighteen she was being put out to pasture, a brood mare required to produce one heir after another for a man she did not love and who did not love her.

  As she stood in her father’s study, nose against the wall, holding the back of her skirts around her waist, her white drawers lying in a puddle around her ankles, Cassandra sniveled and shook. She could feel the cool air on her burning nates and her parents' eyes boring into her. She had stopped crying, stopped feeling anything at all. She felt her heart begin to tighten in her chest, as it burned cold with anger.

  Her mother, seeing that she’d regained composure, helped her raise her drawers and lower her skirts. Cassandra limped painfully to the door and turned back to look at her father. He was concentrating on his blasted ledgers and didn’t even look at her. Usually after punishment, he would provide some sort of comfort; he might take her on his lap or fold her in his arms and reassure her that he still loved her, but this time there was none. She had been dismissed.

  Cassandra hobbled down the stairs to her mother’s suite. The skin on her bottom hurt so badly that it made walking difficult. Her mother walked slowly as she tried to keep up and then guided her into her suites where she found a group of women waiting. Cassandra took in the assemblage; there was the seamstress laying a cloth on the ground and two ladies’ maids waiting to assist her. And in front of her, hanging from an armoire was the ugliest wedding dress she had ever seen. It had to be at least a hundred years old. Where on earth had they dug that up, she wondered?

  Cassandra knew she must look a fright. The birching had been long and hard. She just wanted to crawl into bed and lay on her tummy, her uncovered bottom cooling in the air. Her nanny used to rub a soothing cream on her bottom after a spanking from her father; that would feel wonderful about now. But only her little sisters still had a nanny and there would be no relief for her. And now she had this dress fitting to endure. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length looking glass. Her hair had come loose of its combs and was in wild disarray. Her nose looked swollen and her skin was blotchy. Her eyes were red rimmed; there were still tears on her eyelashes. It was obvious to all that she’d just been chastised.

  Cassandra’s composure eluded her and she threw herself on her mother’s bed and started sobbing anew. “Why, why? Why am I being punished like this? What have I done?” she cried. Her mother sat beside her and patted her shoulder awkwardly. They were not a family given to lavish displays of affection. The maids looked on sadly. They did not like to see the young lady of the house looking so miserable, especially on the eve of her wedding.

  “Now, now dear, you haven’t even met this man. I assure you, he is not so bad.”

  This pronouncement was so startling that Cassandra stopped crying and looked up at her mother in astonishment. “You have met him? How well do you know him?”

  “You’ve seen him, darling. He has been here at the house. Both at the tea I gave a year ago and the hunt your father held last summer?”

  Cassandra remembered the tea and the hunt but there had been so many people and she hadn’t taken part. She was not out in society at that time, so it wouldn’t have been proper. She had spent most of the hunt looking out of her bedroom window at the gentlemen below on their mounts. She had no idea at the time that her future husband was among them.

  “What does he look like? How old is he?” she asked, shuddering as she envisioned a pot-bellied, balding old man with mutton chop side burns leering at her as she walked down the aisle towards him.

  “Never mind, dear. You’ll see him soon enough. What we have to concern ourselves with is how you will look. Get up now and try this dress on. Isn’t it lovely?” Her mother urged.

  Cassandra tried to sit on the edge of the bed but it hurt too much. She stood and looked at the dress. It had faded and yellowed in spots. The lace at the neckline looked like it would crumble into pieces if touched.

  “It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen!” she cried, burying her face in her hands and moaning as the maids removed her dress. She gasped as one of the girls began tightening her corset. The ugly dress that smelled strongly of cedar was lowered over her head and fell down around her. It was several inches too wide and about a foot too short. She blinked at her image in the looking glass. Perfect, Cassandra thought, I am being wed in a decrepit old dress that once belonged to a short, stout ancestor. She miserably turned and faced her mother who was exclaiming over how lovely she looked, until her voice died away.

  Lady Eveline Newblythe looked at her exquisite daughter. With her ginger curls and big blue eyes, she looked like a porcelain doll, but that dress was a nightmare. There was nothing to be done about it, though. Her husband hadn’t given her much notice. The entire staff had spent the morning searching the estate looking for a suitable dress and this had been found in a trunk in the attic. Ever since the Queen Victoria had been married in a white dress, it was the only color that would do and this was the only remotely suitable one available. Cassandra’s presentation gown had been white but it wasn’t at all the right style for a wedding.

  “Don’t despair dear, Madeline will work wonders.” Mother and daughter both turned to look at the seamstress who didn’t look at all confident that she could work any kind of magic with that dress.

  Madeline pinned Cassandra into the dress as Cassandra stood still trying valiantly not to cry on the satin bodice. What did it matter what she looked like, anyway? She and this man were complete strangers to one another and it was an arranged marriage. What did it matter what impression she made? She stared glumly at her reflection.

  Just then her brother Hayden barreled into the room. Hayden never walked, he ricocheted. He stopped short, seeing her in a wedding gown. “What is this?” he asked. “Cassie, why are you wearing that dress?” Cassandra glared at him, he knew she hated that nickname.

  Her mother came to the rescue. “Get out of here Hayden, your sister is changing. She is getting married tomorrow. Go try on your frock coat. Madeline will be in shortly to see if it needs altering.”

  Hayden looked shocked but headed for the door, shooting her a departing look as he went. “You look beautiful, sister!” he called as the door shut on him. Cassandra’s mouth dropped open. That was very unlike him; he had actually sounded sincere. He usually teased her mercilessly about her ugliness. He had done so her entire life. Even though he was four years older than she, the thought occurred that perhaps Hayden was finally growing up. Oh well, she shrugged – she wouldn’t be around to enjoy it.

  Her eyes widened as she realized that this horrible state of affairs must have to do with Hayden and his marriage to a cousin of the Queen - her brother who had been the bane of her parent’s existence, expelled from every decent boarding school in the country. His nuptials were just months away. She, the good obedient daughter, was being pushed aside while her naughty, out-of-control brother was being given the lavish wedding she’d been promised. He would marry into the royal family and be the future Duke of Hampton. Who knows - his title might even be upgraded by the Queen to Prince. That could be the only reason - her parents wanted their other child of marriageable a
ge gone so they could focus on Hayden, the heir and their new pride and joy, and his magnificent wedding.

  She realized that she had no more tears; she’d gone numb with grief. Her mother was chatting on about the wedding guests. Her younger brother Reginald would be unable to attend. He was away at school but her little sisters would both be in the ceremony. Mother was instructing Madeline to make sure that the dresses they’d worn in her cousin’s wedding still fit the girls. Finally Madeline excused Cassandra and the maids helped her redress. She walked slowly to her room and collapsed upon the bed. She groaned as she lifted her skirts and lowered her drawers. She lay with her head on her pillow and waggled her bare bottom in the air. Any fabric at all against her extremely sore bottom was too much to bear.

  Her room. She looked around, taking it all in. It suddenly looked elegant, but also childish to her eyes. This was the last night she would ever spend here. Her parents probably could not wait to turn it in to something else. She wondered how long it would be before she was whisked off to her husband’s country. She had heard Germany was beautiful and very clean. She shook her head and forced herself to stop thinking about her marriage. Even though she had acquiesced, it had been under extreme duress. She had no intention of going gracefully into this union. She would go all right, the thought of staying behind and having to ever again lay eyes on her wretched parents was abhorrent to her, but she would not be gracious about it. Her father had to learn that people were not chess pieces to be moved about at will. He would learn that there are emotional repercussions to the decisions that one makes, especially when it involves someone else’s future.

  She stiffly rose and wandered to her window seat and gingerly perched upon it. It was overcast and raining, and she rested her flushed face against the cold windowpane and looked out into the storm. It looked like a bad storm, the kind that brought rain for days. Cassandra envisioned herself soggily squishing down the aisle in muddy slippers and a crumbling hundred-year-old gown. What did it matter? What did anything matter anymore? She wished she could press her overheated bottom cheeks against the windowpane to cool them and stop the stinging. She couldn’t help smiling - her rooms faced the courtyard - as she imagined the picture that would present to anyone arriving at the manse.

  She wondered about her fiancé. What kind of man would agree to marry a girl he didn’t know at a hurried last minute wedding? He could not be a very high-ranking member of the aristocracy if he was content with being wed in such a humble fashion. But her father had said he was a baron. Where did a baron rank in the order of German nobility?

  Was he handsome? Was he kind? Whether he was kind or cruel, she would soon be his and there was nothing to be done about it but accept her lot and endure. Divorce was not an option and if she ran off she would not be welcomed back to her parent’s house. By tomorrow night she would no longer be a virgin and she would be ruined, of interest to no one except perhaps the man who had deflowered her.

  She wondered how this arrangement her father had brokered had all come about. Perhaps they had met at her father’s club? Perhaps he and her father had gotten to talking about his need for a young, fertile bride and her father had offered her as a kindness to a stranger he barely knew without a thought for his own daughter’s feelings. Perhaps father had even lost her in a card game! Had money exchanged hands? Had he sold her to excuse some debt or talked the groom into marrying her just to be rid of her? Who knew about the affairs of men? She knew enough about how the world of men worked to know that anything was possible. She also knew that she might never be apprised of the reason for the wedding. Neither her father nor her new husband was obligated to tell her. Most important matters were considered too complex to share with the more delicate sex.

  Cassandra wiped away her tears and lay back on her bed, grimacing as she lowered her skirts over her swollen cheeks. She soon fell asleep, waking only when a maid appeared with a dinner tray. She had slept through tea! And she was not being invited down to dinner. She’d probably be locked into her room this evening so that she could not escape her upcoming nuptials, as if there was any escape. She smiled at the maid and excused her, then lifted the lid of the tray. It was her favorite – Wilshire beef. It smelled good and she tried to eat but she just wasn’t hungry.

  She rose and went to the full-length drawing glass. She raised her skirts and lowered her drawers, then turned and looked at her bottom in the mirror. It was red and pink striped and quite puffy looking. She bent forward, spreading her cheeks, looking over her shoulder trying to see the damage. The nasty twigs had fallen everywhere – everywhere! The tender skin near her bottom hole, her little cunny. She swore her father had actually aimed for that spot more than once - not a single inch had been missed and the entire area stung horribly. The brine the twigs had soaked in had been driven into her welts by the rod and now it continued to burn. How on earth would she explain this to her future husband? He’d soon know she’d been punished by her father like a naughty child on the eve of her wedding. Would he guess the reason?

  Suddenly a thought occurred – would her husband employ domestic discipline? She had heard stories. Nanette’s sister Paulette had gotten married two years previously and had told Nanette that her husband spanked her frequently. Not only that but he even birched her on occasion, Nanette had seen the marks! Cassandra supposed Sir Frederic probably would; the Germans were known to be a fierce people.

  Cassandra sighed and rose. She needed to pack, knowing that anything she did not take with her she’d never see again. She loaded her trunk carefully, taking a selection of dresses - some fancy and some more practical. She packed her toiletries and under things. She also added sleepwear, holding up her flannel nightgowns and sighing. There was no trousseau for her. She’d have to wear a flannel nightie to bed on her wedding night. Oh well, at least she’d be warm.

  Cassandra opened her jewelry box and looked inside. There were several nice pieces; her father had given her a piece of jewelry for each important event in her life. She had taken it for granted that this was how girls were treated. She thought about leaving it all behind; she wanted nothing from that man, but then her sensible nature intervened. Who knew what her new circumstances would be? If money were tight, this jewelry could be all she ever received. And if pocket money were not easily forthcoming, she might need to sell it for cash value. She packed the jewelry case and then finished by putting in her shoes and wraps and then lay back down to rest.

  Cassandra must have fallen back asleep. She awoke with a renewed sense of hope as the sun shone through the windows. It was her wedding day - such a beautiful day, anything was possible! She flushed as she realized she’d fallen asleep in her clothing. She rose and donned her house slippers and then opened the door to her room. Perhaps she could speak to her father before the wedding, have one last chance to talk some sense into him. The wedding was being planned in secret. If she broke the engagement there should be no scandal.

  As Cassandra opened her door to slip out, two smiling ladies maids approached and excitedly grabbed her. The silly things were prattling on about how this was her wedding day and wasn’t it wonderful and she had to hurry and get ready. They had to leave for the chapel in two hours.

  Two hours? Her father had said the wedding was being held at noon. What time was it? Servants entered her room bearing pails of water as the maids moved her tub in front of the lit fireplace. They filled the tub with warm steaming water and left. As she saw the steam rise from the water, she found herself looking forward to a good soak. She was quickly undressed and heard both of the maids exclaim and then remembered her battered bottom. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Apparently it was quite a sight to see.

  She gingerly lowered herself into the bath water and sighed happily as it swirled around her. She relaxed in the warmth. Soon her hair had been washed and she finished soaping herself. She rinsed and rose and was wrapped in fluffy towels. The maids were excitedly combing her hair and wrapping the curls around their fing
ers as it dried until it fell in soft ringlets. Madeline swooped into the room with her dress and hung it on her armoire. Cassandra glumly looked at it; the crumbling lace had been replaced. Madeline had managed to remove the yellowing and add a few layers of ruffles to lengthen the gown. No, those weren’t additional layers – they were petticoats with ruffled bottoms that hung below the hem of the gown, giving the appearance of lengthening the gown. Very clever. At least the dress would now fit.

  Her hair was pronounced finished and then she was dressed. The dress fit perfectly and no longer smelled of cedar. Now it smelled like lavender. The maids turned the looking glass towards her so she could see her reflection - so she could look upon the happy bride. Suddenly Cassandra felt like retching. She looked as pale as a ghost; white had never been a flattering color for her and her eyes looked sad and disturbed. The dress was old fashioned and dowdy. The only thing about her that looked at all presentable was her hair. The maids had done a good job on it. But then a veil was produced. It was basically a piece of tulle that was thrown over her head. Perfect, now even her hair looked bad. Was there no tiara in this household to hold her veil in place? Evidently not one that she was allowed to don. Cassandra shrugged and turned away. She was ready for this travesty of a wedding, as ready as she’d ever be.

  Chapter 4

  Lord and Lady Newblythe appeared in the doorway of Cassandra’s bedroom. They stood there silently, staring at their beautiful daughter in her wedding finery.

  Upon seeing them Cassandra cried, “Father, I must speak with you before - "