Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Truthfully, Caroline was not quite ready for the morning of the wedding, and its arrival took her almost by surprise. Her father had pushed to get it over with as soon as possible and that was why she was now stood in front of a full-length mirror in her bedchamber, her entire body trembling as Anne fastened the last of the tiny pearl buttons on the back of her ivory silk gown. Her mother and sister should have been there, she mused to herself, but she was quick to suppress the treacherous thought.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, My Lady," Anne said softly. There was a hint of empathy in her eyes when she stepped back from Caroline to admire her. . "Like a princess from a fairy tale."

Caroline turned slowly, the skirts of the gown swishing softly around her ankles. She managed a small smile, though it did not quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Anne," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If only I felt as confident as I appear."

Anne's expression softened and Caroline wondered if she understood. Of course she was no fool and she knew that servants were quite aware of the recent events in the Wentworth household. Was Anne sympathetic to her or was the softness in her gaze born from sympathy for Beatrice?

"It's natural to be nervous, My Lady," she said gently, reaching out to smooth a rebellious curl from Caroline's forehead. "But I have no doubt that you will make a wonderful wife. And Lord Casterbridge seems a good man, from what I've heard."

Caroline nodded, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. "I suppose he is," she agreed, her mind flashing to Sebastian's handsome features, and the dimples that formed in his cheeks when he smiled. "I only hope that I will be a good wife. And that this all… was worth it."

She was quite certain, however, that it would not be worth it. Could any marriage be worth the loss of your own flesh and blood?

A knock at the door startled them both. It was Anne who opened the door and Caroline looked at her father hesitantly where he stood in the door stiffly.

"I have come to escort you to the chapel," he said simply and Caroline looked down quickly to prevent him from seeing the tears spontaneously appearing in her eyes.

Silently, she followed him to the carriage. The ride to the chapel was quiet and uncomfortable. It should have been different, Caroline mused quietly. Her mother should have been overjoyed and emotional, her father should have talked to her about how proud he was of her for becoming a wife, Beatrice should have been seated next to her and they should have been gossiping about their fears of wedding nights and lovemaking.

Instead, there was nothing but grim silence.

The small chapel was filled with the soft glow of candlelight and the sweet scent of freshly cut flowers. Caroline stood at the entrance, her arm linked with her father's, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Ahead of her, Sebastian waited at the altar. Once more, Caroline was struck by how utterly handsome he was with his broad shoulders and twinkling green eyes.

As the first notes of the music sounded, Caroline took a deep breath and stepped forward. She felt as if she were floating, her feet barely touching the ground as she made her way down the aisle. The faces of the guests blurred together, all except for one—Beatrice, sitting stiffly in the front pew, her expression unreadable. Caroline's heart clenched at the sight of her sister. She was used to Beatrice being warm and kind—she hardly knew her sister when she was so cold and distant. She longed to go to her, to beg for her forgiveness and understanding, to explain once again that she made the decision to marry Sebastian for Beatrice's sake too… but she knew it would be futile. Beatrice had shown no signs of softening over the last few weeks. Caroline had hoped that as her wedding neared, Beatrice's rage would calm but instead it had only grown.

Then she was there, standing beside Sebastian, their hands clasped together as they faced the priest. The old man smiled at them benevolently, his voice ringing out clear and strong in the hushed chapel.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and these witnesses, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred bond, not to be entered into lightly, but reverently, passionately, lovingly and solemnly. Into this these two persons present now come to be joined."

He turned to Sebastian formally. "My Lord, Sebastian Fairchild, Viscount Casterbridge, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keeping yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

Sebastian's voice was deep and clear, and Caroline's cheeks flushed when the sound reverberated through the chapel. "I do."

The priest nodded before he turned to Caroline. "And do you, Lady Caroline Wentworth, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keeping yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Caroline swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "I do."

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Their lips hardly brushed against each other—something Caroline was relieved about. This, after all, was not a normal wedding.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the priest announced formally, "I present to you Lord and Lady Casterbridge!"

The guests erupted into applause, but Caroline barely heard it over the pounding of her own heart. She was married. She was a wife, a viscountess.

As they made their way back down the aisle, Caroline caught Beatrice's eye. Her sister's face was still stony, but Caroline thought she detected a glimmer of something in her gaze—regret, she hoped, or even longing. Perhaps, a flicker of hope within her encouraged, they would be able to resolve things. But she'd barely had time to truly make sense of the softness in Beatrice's eyes when it hardened again and she stared at her stiffly.

Then Sebastian was helping her into the carriage, his hand warm and strong in hers, and the moment was lost. The horses began to move, following the small gathering to the Wentworth home for a subdued celebration. The dining room had been decorated with vases of fresh flowers, their delicate petals perfuming the air. The table was laden with all of Caroline's favorite dishes, but despite the enticing aromas, she found her appetite entirely diminished by the knots in her stomach.

She wasn't ready, she thought as she glanced at her now-husband. She wasn't ready to be married to him, to be bedded by him….

She was keenly aware of Sebastian's presence beside her, his leg brushing against hers under the table, his hand occasionally grazing her own as he reached for his glass. Each touch sent a shiver down her spine, a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. She found herself studying him surreptitiously from beneath her lashes, admiring the strong line of his jaw, the way his chestnut hair fell across his forehead.

Of course, as Caroline had feared, the afternoon seemed to draw to a close far too quickly—and if she had hoped that her anxiety about married life would calm some, she was proven woefully wrong. Instead, she grew more nervous as the time passed, and her entire body trembled with anxiety when the time finally came to say goodbye to her family.

To her surprise, it was her mother rather than her husband or father who made an attempt to bid the newlyweds farewell first. Caroline could see her mother's glances toward Beatrice all through the day, and she knew that as much as her mother cared for her, she now wanted nothing more than to look after her eldest daughter.

"Well. I suppose it is time. Goodbye, Caroline," she said, her voice still holding an edge of stiffness—resentment even. "May you be a good wife to him."

Caroline nodded, not trusting herself to speak around the lump in her throat. Her father was next, his usually stern face softened with something akin to affection as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Do us proud as a wife," he said gruffly. "No matter how this union started, it must now bring pride to your family."

Even Beatrice came forward, though her hug was stiff and perfunctory. "Goodbye, Caroline," she said, her tone cold and distant. "I wish you well."

Caroline felt tears prick at the backs of her eyes as she climbed into the carriage beside Sebastian. She kept her gaze fixed out the window as they pulled away, watching the figures of her family grow smaller and smaller until they disappeared from view.

The carriage ride was strained at first, an awkward silence settling between the newlyweds. Caroline sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery. Sebastian cleared his throat several times, as if to speak, but no words came.

They were quite a while away when at last Sebastian spoke, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "When I was quite young we used to visit the estate that will now be our home quite often. I even tried to build a treehouse in the gardens."

Caroline laughed softly despite her nerves. "You… you tried to build a treehouse? By yourself?"

Sebastian nodded, his eyes twinkling with delight. "It was quite the adventure," he continued. My best friend, Nathaniel, had gotten it into his head that we were becoming men and we simply must have a treehouse. Nathaniel is an earl now and rather than marry, he has dedicated his life to exploring the world."

Caroline could not deny being slightly interested in his story. "So what happened?"

He paused, shaking his head at the memory. "Of course, being the young, impossible boys we were, we decided to build it ourselves. We snuck away from the governess's watchful eyes, armed with a hammer, some nails, and a few old boards we'd managed to… well, let's say borrow… from the groundskeeper's shed."

Caroline lifted a brow, a smile forming around her lips. "And did you manage it? To build the treehouse, I mean?"

"In a manner of speaking," Sebastian grinned. "We spent hours up in that tree, hammering and sawing and generally making a ruckus. By midday, we had something that vaguely resembled a platform, though it was rather lopsided and had more gaps than a beggar's coat."

He laughed at that, a rich, warm sound that filled the carriage. "We were so proud of ourselves, though. We clambered up onto our creation, declaring ourselves kings of the oak. That is, until Nathaniel put his foot down wrong and went straight through the floor!"

Caroline gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Was he hurt?"

"Oh, he was fine," Sebastian assured her, waving a hand. "A bit bruised and battered, but no lasting harm done. Our pride, on the other hand, was severely wounded. Especially when the groundskeeper found us, drawn by the sound of our yelps and the sight of Nathaniel dangling from the tree by his ankle."

He shook his head, his eyes distant with the memory. "I don't think I've ever seen the old man laugh so hard. He stood there, clutching his belly, tears streaming down his face as he took in the sight of the two boys, covered in dirt and splinters, with the remains of our 'treehouse' scattered about like kindling."

Caroline found herself drawn in despite herself, and Sebastian leaned forward slightly. "I do not know what it is like to have a sibling," he explained clumsily, "Nathaniel is the closest I have to a brother. But I can try to understand how difficult it is…"

Caroline lowered her gaze and a sigh escaped her lips. "Beatrice and I were not quite that adventurous," she admitted softly. "We held tea parties and walked along the gardens… we were always taught to be the perfect little ladies. I suppose the only mischievous thing we did was borrow books from a more… adventurous friend."

Sebastian lifted a curious brow at that and Caroline felt her face flushing. "Books?"

She nodded and avoided his eyes, her cheeks suddenly hot. "You know… more… risqué novels," she got out at last and once again his laughter boomed through the carriage. His voice was low, almost intimate, when he spoke again.

"And did these novels… teach you anything?"

Caroline swallowed dryly, a pool of moisture gathering between her thighs at the daring tone in his voice. What was happening?

"Some," she said, looking up at him through her lashes. The air between them crackled with electricity.

Would he kiss her? She could not help but wonder—in any of the books she'd read, he would kiss and ravish her now and her heart raced wildly within her chest at the thought. She was not quite sure whether it was excitement or nerves.

Before anything could happen, however, the carriage came to a sudden halt and the loaded atmosphere between them all but vanished as he helped her out of the carriage.

Any sense of ease she may have felt disappeared swiftly the moment Caroline stepped into her new home. She was greeted by a line of servants, all looking to her expectantly. The housekeeper, a stern-faced woman stepped forward and bobbed a curtsy.

"This is Mrs. Hawkins," Sebastian introduced the woman with a fond smile. "She's been running households since I've been running amuck."

"Welcome, My Lady," the woman said, her voice crisp and efficient. "I trust you had a pleasant journey. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your chambers and we can discuss the running of the household."

Caroline felt a wave of panic wash over her at the woman's words. The running of the household? She had no idea how to run a household! She had never had to manage servants or plan menus or balance accounts. Her mother ought to have taught her at least something, but their relationship had become too strained. They'd only had one conversation about marriage and it was not something she could bear to think of right now. The very thought made her head spin.

Sebastian, perhaps sensing her distress, placed a comforting hand on the small of her back. "Mrs. Hawkins," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "I think perhaps we could postpone the household discussions until tomorrow. It's been a long day, and I'm sure Lady Caroline would like some time to rest and settle in."

Mrs. Hawkins nodded briskly; her lips pursed. "Of course, my lord. As you wish. I shall show you to your chamber now, My Lady."

Sebastian edged her forward lightly. "Go," he encouraged. "I have quite a bit of work to complete in my study."

Caroline shot Sebastian a grateful look as she was led upstairs to her new chambers. The room was large and elegantly furnished, with a large four-poster bed dominating the center. A fire crackled cheerfully in the grate, casting a warm glow over the room. But despite the coziness, it felt strange and unfamiliar. She sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders slumped, and tried to quell the rising tide of anxiety within her. She was not quite sure how long she sat there—merely wondering how it all had come to this. The air outside was already darkening when there was a soft knock at the door that startled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, rising to her feet with a racing heart.

It was Sebastian who peered inside, a lopsided grin on his face. "I just wanted to check on you," he said, his eyes soft. "When I told Mrs. Hawkins to show you to your bedchamber, I did not mean that you had to stay here all day… but I didn't want to… impose. I know this is all a bit overwhelming."

Caroline felt her throat tighten again at his kindness. "I'm alright," she said, managing a small smile. "Just tired, I think."

Sebastian nodded in understanding. "Rest then," he said simply before leaving slowly. "I will send a servant for you later and we will have some tea."

Caroline took his advice, lying down on the soft bed and closing her eyes. But sleep eluded her, her mind too full of worries and doubts. What if she couldn't handle the responsibilities of being a wife and mistress of a household? What if she disappointed Sebastian, or worse, made him regret marrying her? The thoughts chased each other around and around in her head until sleep came.

She woke, still in her wedding gown, when the sky was black outside—a knock at the door having disrupted her sleep. Caroline's heart beat wildly inside her chest.

Would he expect her to consummate the marriage now? She sat up slowly, her hands trembling.

"My lady," a strange, feminine voice rang through the closed door. "Lord Lincoln requests your presence in the drawing room for tea."

"Oh…" For a minute, Caroline was not quite certain what to do and she tugged at her wedding gown desperately. "Will you…" she let out at last. "Will you help me with my dress?"

The door swung open and a girl, certainly one younger than her, appeared—a wide smile decorating her freckled face.

"I'm Prudence, My Lady," she answered at Caroline's question before her fingers deftly began working at the buttons on her dress. It took them a few minutes before she was dressed in a far simpler gown—one in a deep, forest green. It was with a deep breath that Caroline made her way down to the drawing room—to meet with her husband.