Lady Tyndall peered down her nose at Cassandra, an impressive feat considering Cassandra was also seated. "I have made some inquiries," the lady said, an imperious sniff in her tone, "and it would seem that your mother was the woman who brought shame upon the Bennington family and was cast out." Lady Tyndall pursed her lips as though sucking a lemon, then continued. "Apparently she was quite foolish. And headstrong. And impulsive. I can see the apple did not fall far from the proverbial tree."
Cassandra stiffened. She had prepared herself for a shaming based on being caught with Colonel Sinclair, so the assault on her mother caught her off guard. She recovered quickly, though.
"Lady Tyndall," Cassandra stood and glared down at her hostess. "I will agree that what you observed this afternoon was scandalous and I am prepared for whatever condemnation my own actions bring upon me." As she spoke her anger, and confidence, rose. "However, you have no right to say such things about my mother who, despite her circumstances, was more of a lady than you can ever hope to be. Now get out." Cassandra pointed to the door with a quivering finger. To her amazement, Lady Tyndall complied.
Shaking, Cassandra leaned against the chair her hostess had vacated and fought to regain her composure. She pressed a hand to her forehead to stem the throbbing in her temples. What had she just done?
She glanced at the window and considered the ramifications of jumping. She strode across the room and opened it, finding some relief in the fresh air. She looked down, wondering how long it would take before she reached the ground. Movement at the corner of her vision caught her eye. Colonel Sinclair waved jauntily up at her.
Instinctively, she reached for the nearest object and flung it out the window. The Colonel, trained for battles with enemies more fierce than an angry woman, easily dodged the vase aimed for his head.
The vase, like all her plans, fell short of the mark and shattered at Colonel Sinclair's feet.
Seeing the pieces of the heirloom scattered on the lawn brought the full import of her deed to the forefront of her mind. Was there nothing she had not ruined that day?
Cassandra retreated from the window and Blaise's gaze, her head spinning with the horrors of the last hour.
There was a soft knock on the door. Expecting a maid, or possibly the butler to escort her from the premises, Cassandra bid them enter.
To her surprise, Lady Jane walked in. She smiled shyly at Cassandra and said "It has been an eventful afternoon."
Still shocked by all that had occurred in the last hour, Cassandra struggled to make sense of what was happening. She gaped at her guest.
“I expect it is all rather sudden, is it not?” Lady Jane said softly. “I had thought you were interested in Owen and that was why you had come here.”
This put Cassandra into a bit of a quandary, despite the fact she was already deep into the throes of a conundrum. If she confirmed Lady Jane’s statement, it became apparent she had taken advantage of the girl’s friendship to gain access to her brother.
Of course, she had done precisely that. At the time it had seemed harmless enough, but now, seeing the hurt in Lady Jane’s eyes, Cassandra wondered if she might have misjudged the girl. Besides, she felt so lost and alone, she could use a friend.
“I will admit I had hoped to gain your brother’s affection,” she said, “and although that did not come to pass, I am glad I had the opportunity to spend time with you.”
Lady Jane perked up. “And now we will be cousins.”
The full import of what had apparently been planned for her without her knowledge or consent passed over Cassandra in a blanket of mystification, misery and mortification.
At some point she had lost complete control over her life.
***
To add insult to injury, Miss Eliza Collins arrived at Hadley Hall earlier than expected. When Cassandra went downstairs for dinner she was greeted by the sight of Lord Owen Tyndall gazing upon Miss Collins with rapture and delight.
She noticed something red moving in her direction. Colonel Sinclair, ostensibly her betrothed, crossed the room to greet her. At least he had the decency to look slightly chagrined.
“Good evening, Miss Sheridan, you look particularly lovely tonight.”
Before she replied, Cassandra noticed all eyes were on them. She bit back the retort she wished to make and simply said, “Thank you.”
He offered her his arm and she placed her hand upon it, though when no one could see she dug her nails into the tender flesh of his exposed wrist.
“You tricked me,” she hissed under her breath.
“I did no such thing,” he answered, assisting her to a seat in the corner of the room. "Besides, if anyone came to Hadley Hall with intentions of trickery, it was you and not me."
The conversation continued. To anyone observing them the smiles on their faces and meaningful glances they shared conveyed their growing ardor. In reality, their words and actions were a complete mismatch.
He handed her a glass of wine. “I ought to throw this at you,” she said, with a fake smile.
He touched the edge of his glass to hers. “I would be forced to wipe my face with the hem of your dress as I did earlier today. Although I am sure I would enjoy seeing your naked bottom again, I do not believe Lady Tyndall would find it acceptable.”
A giggle across the room drew their attention. Apparently Lord Tyndall had said something which tickled Miss Collins. What on earth that might be was beyond Cassandra’s thinking. Lord Tyndall had never said anything even remotely amusing, at least not intentionally, within her hearing.
She turned back to the Colonel. “You have seen as much of my naked body as you will ever see so I hope you took a good look while you were sneaking around my bedchamber today.”
“I admit I intended to sneak into your room today, but only to return your letter and the shoe which you so politely asked me to repair. I thought you were in the drawing room with Lady Jane so I could leave the items for you and be gone in seconds.”
“But you did not.”
“No,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I am sorry for this predicament, but given that Cousin Owen appears quite smitten with Miss Collins, perhaps you will consider marriage to me as a consolation prize.”
She ought to draw her hand away from his and possibly use it to slap his insolent face, but she could not. The touch of his hand, though slight, sent threads of tingly sensations spinning through her body. Through dancing with numerous men Cassandra had experienced some minimal physical contact, but none of them had created the awareness in her that Colonel Sinclair’s thumb stroking across her wrist generated.
“If that is your idea of a marriage proposal, it is sorely lacking.” She strove to keep her breathing even and her voice detached, but it was difficult with his fingers working their way up the inside of her arm.
“True enough. I have been remiss.” He clasped her fingers in his, gazed intently into her eyes and said “Miss Cassandra Sheridan, will you marry me?”
“It would appear I have no other options.” She jerked her arm away, rose from her seat and walked purposefully across the room.
***
The newly betrothed couple did not speak again until dinner when they were seated side by side. The party of which Miss Collins was a member consisted of six persons, so the dinner conversation proved much more lively than during Cassandra's previous nights at Hadley Hall.
Although civil to Colonel Sinclair, Cassandra focused her attention on the gentleman seated to her left, who happened to be the brother of Miss Collins. Her obvious attempts to ignore him did not please the colonel.
After dinner when everyone adjourned to the drawing room for entertainment, Blaise took a firm hold of his future wife’s arm and steered her outside to the garden.
“This is highly improper,” Cassandra said through gritted teeth.
“We are betrothed. I am sure no one will begrudge two lovers a few moments alone.” Blaise sat on a bench in the garden and pulled Cassandra into
his lap. She wiggled and squirmed most deliciously in an attempt to get away until he encased her in his arms and pulled her close for a kiss. He had only intended to kiss her gently, to show her she had nothing to fear from him, but once his mouth found hers, gentleness was the furthest thing from his mind, and apparently hers as well. Again she opened her lips to the pressure from his mouth and he felt the tentative stirring of her tongue as it moved with shy passion against his own.
He cupped the back of her head in his hand and held her captive until he feared if he did not stop he would never be able to let her go.
When his breathing slowed a bit he spoke. “Now, my little poppet, I understand I was not your first choice for a husband.” He stroked his finger down the length of her nose and marveled in its delicacy. “However, we are now to be husband and wife and I expect you to behave properly.”
“I have behaved exceptionally well, considering the circumstances." Her words were defiant, though her voice sounded less strident.
“You dug your nails into my wrist, which was quite painful. You were exceedingly rude in response to my proposal of marriage and at dinner, you ignored me. Are those the actions of a dutiful and obedient wife?”
“I never agreed to be a dutiful and obedient wife.”
“What other sort of wife is there?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, get yourself in position over my knee so that we can see to your behavioral issues before we join the others.”
***
I woke up this morning intending to beguile Lord Owen Tyndall while out for a ride and now, not even twelve hours later, I am betrothed to his cousin? The same man I thought was an insolent footman two days ago?
Life had certainly taken an interesting turn for Miss Cassandra Sheridan. No turn more interesting than her current position lying across Blaise Sinclair's lap while he spanked her bare bottom.
She kicked her feet to thwart his efforts to punish her backside. Blaise's palm cracked on her thighs. "Hold still," he said, "or I'll take off my belt and tether your ankles. Or maybe I'll use it on your naughty behind."
"What?" Cassandra reared back and attempted to turn to stare at Blaise over her shoulder, but he buried his hand in her hair and gave a possessive tug to her tresses sending a tingle of desire through her body.
"Stay in position. Listen to my instructions. Take your punishment like a good girl."
He certainly gave orders like a colonel. Well, she had not enlisted in the army and she had no intention of obeying him like a simpering private. She kept her head down, but grabbed hold of his calf and dug her fingers into his flesh.
"You're asking for it now, Sassy Cassie." Blaise loosened her grip on his calf then placed both her hands at the small of her back and held them firmly in place. "I said to take your punishment like a good girl and I meant it." He punctuated his words with a sharp crack to the center of her buttocks.
His wide palm smacked the same spot over and over and over again. Although her mind told her to continue to struggle against Blaise's dominance, her heart told her to hold still. This was where she belonged.
With each impact on her bottom more and more of Cassandra's stress and uncertainty melted away. The burdens of the last few years, intensified by her father's most recent illness, built to a crescendo and finally the dam broke. Tears flooded her eyes and with each stinging swat of Blaise's hand she gave up her struggle against him.
She relaxed her shoulders, dipped her head, and let the tears flow. She sobbed for her lost mother, her frightened sisters, he sickly father, and finally, she wept over her failure to make everything turn out right. She had believed sheer force of will would be sufficient to achieve her goals, but she had been wrong and her plan had gone completely off kilter.
She sobbed so hard she didn't realize the punishment had ended until Blaise lifted her gently to sit on his lap. He buried her face against his neck, while stroking her back and rocking to and fro on the bench whispering words of comfort in her ear.
"There you go, my little Cassie. Let it all out."
She knew she ought to pull herself together and attempt to retain at least a miniscule amount of dignity, but she was just so tired. Tired of trying to hold it together for her entire family. Exhausted from worry and anxiety.
She sighed and snaked her arms around Blaise's waist, pulling herself closer to his strength.
"That's my girl." His voice rumbled under her ear. "You're mine now. Let me take care of you."
Cassie knew it was ridiculous to think that a mere army colonel could save her and her family from financial ruin, but what choice did she have?
She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.
***
He could hardly imagine what the men under his command would think if they saw their colonel rocking a beautiful woman on his lap and cooing to her as though she were a frightened child, but at that moment, Blaise Sinclair cared of nothing but the warm little body trustingly snuggled against his.
He had never planned to fall in love. Never intended to marry. While most second sons resented their lot in life as no more than a spare male heir to secure the family line in the event the eldest son died without issue, Blaise had relished it. As far as he was concerned, he had all the benefits of wealth and privilege without the duties and expectations. His commission in the army fulfilled his need for adventure and excitement. He had no desire to settle down. Had never considered a wife and family. To his thinking, children were nothing more than a bother which he was glad to avoid, particularly now that his brother had produced twin sons.
And yet, when a beautiful blonde mistook him for a footman and handed him her shoe to repair, all this bravado fell away. At least most of it did. Their encounter in the barn, and her submission to his thumb probing her bottom hole, melted his defenses.
He was a man who liked order and discipline, but he also liked a challenge. For him, Miss Cassandra Sheridan was a perfect match. He envisioned their future together and his heart warmed at the thought of the children they would have. He whispered as much against her sweet smelling hair.
When she made no response at all, he tipped back to examine her face only to find her softly sleeping in his arms.
Chapter Seven
"No, I will not have it. Your mother is surely turning over in her grave. It is shameful enough that you insist upon marrying a girl such as Miss Sheridan, but I shall not allow the event to take place at Hadley Hall." Lady Tyndall's strident tone sent Cassandra ducking into an alcove outside the breakfast room, grateful she had not entered during what was obviously a conversation about her.
She had woken from the most delicious dream. She dreamt she had fallen asleep in Blaise's arms, that he'd whispered words of love while he held her close then carried her to her room, gently removing her clothing and slipping her into bed in her nightclothes before tucking the covers under her chin and kissing her on the forehead.
For the first time in months her dreams had been filled with happiness and hope rather than visions of herself as a scullery maid and her sisters married off to any man who would have them.
But of course, it was only a dream. Though she had no recollection of what happened after Blaise snuggled her in his lap, she was certain her imagination, and possibly the wine, had created the tantalizing fantasy.
A fantasy which vanished with Lady Tyndall's harsh tone, though what followed shocked her even more.
"I am sorry you feel that way, Aunt. If you do not wish the marriage to take place here, then Miss Sheridan and I shall vacate your home as soon as our bags can be packed. You may be assured we will not darken your door again. Your unkindness to the woman I have chosen as my bride is uncalled for and if my dear mother were to be turning over in her grave it would be because of your maliciousness and not the perceived unsuitability of Miss Sheridan as my wife."
Cassandra covered her mouth with her hand to stifle an involuntary gasp. If she had been able to peek into the breakfast room she would have seen Blaise's st
iff bow to his aunt before he exited the room, but since she could not, his sudden presence in the hallway, and firm grasp of her arm, caught her by surprise.
Still holding her arm Blaise led her to her bedchamber. "We shall leave in one hour. I have arranged for a special license and will alert the vicar to expect us."
Cassandra stared after him as he tromped down the hall. She sighed and entered her room, prepared to pack her things.
The task was quickly accomplished. While she waited for Blaise to collect her for their departure, she read her sister's letter for the hundredth time. So much had happened since she first read it the day before. She had not even had an opportunity to respond. Hastily she took out pen and paper and dashed off a note to her sister sharing the news of her imminent marriage. Cassandra did her best to sound upbeat about the situation, though in reality she felt anything but.
***
Blaise wore his dress uniform and Cassandra could not help but notice how well it suited his commanding presence and handsome features. The uniform gave him an even greater air of authority, if that was possible. She imagined what it was like to be one of the soldiers under his command, taking orders without question, placing complete trust in his authority.
The idea made her knees quiver and a tiny tingle formed between her legs. Shamed at having such lusty feelings while standing next to a vicar, she lowered her eyes and did her best to focus on the words of the marriage ceremony.
Married. It had been her goal, though this was not her intended groom. She had no doubt Blaise was a better match for her personally, but her objective had not been felicity but prosperity, and in that regard, Blaise could never measure up to Owen Tyndall. Regardless, a marriage to Lord Owen Tyndall was unthinkable at this point.
She glanced up as the vicar finished the ceremony that bound her to Blaise for all eternity. To love, honor and obey.
***
The vicar and his wife kindly shared their breakfast with the newlyweds, though Cassandra only pushed her food around the plate.
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