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Raithe grimaced as Charlie turned back to her too. “You’re worried.”
She twisted her hands together. “I’m fine.”
“She isn’t,” Charlie added. “But she will be.” Then she winked. “You should go and get some rest.”
Cassandra nodded as she pivoted to return up the stairs. After returning to her room, she knew she wouldn’t sleep. Her stomach was a nervous knot and her mind spun with the idea that he might not come tomorrow.
She’d never marry again. Of that she was certain. There had to be a better way to support oneself. Her heart couldn’t take another failure.
If he did come…well then, she’d do exactly as Charlie and Ophelia suggested. She’d not give him a choice. He’d love her. She’d make certain of it.
Somewhere around dawn, she fell asleep, and woke not two hours later feeling tired and drained.
But it was her wedding day. Part of her was afraid to dress, but a knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts.
“Cassandra?” Charlie called. “Are you awake?”
“Unfortunately,” she called back with a sigh.
“Did you sleep at all?” This from Ophelia.
She got out of bed and tossed on her dressing gown. “Barely.” Then she crossed the room and opened the door.
The two women stood on the other side wearing matching looks of sympathy. “We’ve come to help you get ready.”
She shook her head. “That’s very nice but…” Her gaze cast down. “I’m worried he won’t come. And if he does that he’ll marry me and then leave me here. Or that—”
Ophelia stepped into the room and wrapped an arm about Cassandra. “He travelled all the way to London, got the license, and returned. Of course he’ll be there. And he’ll most assuredly take you with him. You’ve got an heir to make, remember? Which gives you time to win his heart. Try not to worry.”
She drew in a long, steadying breath. That gave her hope. “That’s true. I wish I’d spoken to you last night.”
Everyone laughed and Cassandra relaxed a bit. Charlie waved to someone out of view and a maid came through the door carrying a gown of the softest pale green that Cassandra had ever seen. “I think we’re about the same
size. And this gown reminded me of the color of your eyes. I want you to wear it.”
A lump formed in her throat but this one wasn’t from worry but for joy. “Really? That’s too kind.”
“I insist,” Charlie replied. “You’re going to look stunning for your wedding.”
She drew in a deep breath. Would she look good enough that Damian wouldn’t be able to resist her?
* * *
Damian stood at the front of the church watching the door. He’d lain awake in the inn wondering, what he was running from?
He’d tried to tell himself he wasn’t frightened, just being sensible. Making certain he wasn’t hurt again, but the more he’d repeated the words, the more cowardly they sounded. The problem was that Cassandra was everything he might want in a wife and he’d begun to worry, he just couldn’t hold back from her and keep his heart out of their marriage. Damian was most certainly in danger of falling in love.
The doors opened and his breath caught. Balstead entered with Cassandra on his arm. She wore a dress of pale green, looking like a vision of beauty and grace. She was always beautiful but today… He swallowed hard. Today she was irresistible.
And his plan was completely flawed. How could he ever keep his distance from her?
The organ began to play and the Duke of Rathmore stood next to him, softly humming to the music. “I love weddings,” he said, beginning to hum again.
“I wish I could have your optimism.”
Rathmore grinned. “You will. Very soon.”
“What does that mean?” he muttered out of the side of his mouth as the vicar cleared his throat.
