Chapter 7

              Madra offered a tight smile at Lance as she took the arm that he offered.  They went through their vows quickly, or so it seemed to her.  She studied Lance’s face and saw that he looked happy.  It was probably just a front he was putting on for the guests.  She figured that as soon as they were alone, he’d remember how he’d been forced into marrying her and become bitter and distant.  Not something that she looked forward to at all.

            Once they were pronounced married, the new couple were hurried into the waiting carriage.  They were going straight to Atlanta.  From there they were catching the train to Charleston and it was off to New Orleans for their honeymoon.  Madra watched as her mother, her sisters, and all her girlfriends cried tears of happiness for her.  She felt salty tears stinging her own eyes.  But they weren’t tears of happiness.  She was depressed at how fast things had progressed and the fact that she had absolutely no control over what had just happened, or what was going to happen in the near future.  More than anything, she was afraid of her “wifely duties.”  That night was her wedding night and she knew what was expected of her.  Her mind was racing with thoughts of how to prevent it from happening.

             Lance exhaled deeply as the carriage began to move.  He was finally away from all the people that he didn’t know.  And he was alone with his new wife.  That itself was something to be happy about, he figured.  He glanced at her and noticed that she didn’t seem to be feeling the same way.  There were tears threatening to spill out of her eyes at any second.  “Madra?  Are you alright?”

             “No.  If you must know, I’m not alright.  I’m married to a man I don’t know and don’t love and I’m moving to a place where I don’t know anyone.”  She said through her tears.

             Lance was a little taken aback by her harsh tone.  It sounded as if she loathed him.  But, she had been put in a bad position and her willful nature wasn’t dealing with it well.  “You know what?  What makes you think I feel any differently?  It’s not like I know you any better than you know me.  I was forced into it as much as you were.  The difference between you and me is that I’m trying to make the best out it, while you insist on lingering on the bad stuff.  Don’t you think that we could learn to love each other?”  He was through being sensitive to her feelings at the moment.

             Madra looked on wide eyed through Lance’s little speech.  To be truthful to herself, she hadn’t thought about how he felt.  She was only worried that she wasn’t getting exactly what she wanted.  Hanging her head a little, she replied quietly.  “Actually, I didn’t think about that.  But I don’t want to have to learn to love someone, I want to love them to start with.  It just goes against the way that I’d always dreamed things would be.”

             His heart softened again.  “I’m sorry that I was so harsh with you just then.”  Taking her face in his hands, he urged her to look at him when he spoke.  “If you give me a chance, I think that we can be very happy together.”  Then he wiped the tears from her eyes.  “Now, stop crying and be a little cheerful at least.”

             Madra gave him a small smile and mulled over his words.  Maybe if she stop fighting the feelings she had for him, things would get better. 

~*~ two days later, in New Orleans ~*~

             Madra collapsed on the settee.  She was exhausted from everything that had happened the last two days.  She and Lance had filled every moment of the days with fun and laughter.  He taken her to see everything that there was to see in New Orleans.  They’d had the best food prepared by the best chefs.  A whole staff of servants were at their use.  There was nothing that they wanted for more than a minute.  Madra had also went shopping and had seamstresses working that very moment on ten new dresses.  They were to be finished within the twelve remaining days before the two newlyweds went back to Charleston.  She tried not to think about all the responsibility that she would have once they arrived at Lance’s house.  She didn’t know the first thing about presiding over a house full of servants.  She’d watched her mother, but that didn’t mean that she could be like her.

             Lance stood in the door and watched Madra.  Her brow was furrowed, indicating that she was deep in thought.  He would give anything to know what was going through her head.  Giving up a hopeless crusade, he turned to his own thoughts.  The last two days had gone well.  She was civil to him, not once snapping or becoming belligerent.  But there were plenty of things left unsaid.  He’d tried to be as gentle as possible with her.  So far, though, she’d refused him in her bed.  The past two nights she’d insisted he sleep in the other bedroom of the suite.  Once it became dark outside, she would barely let him come near her, much less touch her in any way.  He knew that he had the right to force her, but he didn’t want to do things that way.  He wanted her to welcome him with open arms.  And to want him as much as he was beginning to want her. 

             “Lance.  What are you doing?”  Madra asked, breaking him from his musing.

             “Oh nothing.  Are you ready for dinner?”  He changed the subject, not wanting her to know that anything was bothering him.

             “Yes.”  She replied and they went down to the dining area of the hotel.  They were served a five course meal, just like the two previous nights.  While she was eating her gumbo, Madra wondered what Lance had been thinking so hard about back at the suite.  She figured that it had something to do with her.  Or the fact that they still had not consummated the marriage.  She didn’t know how many more times she would be able to get away with saying that she had a stomach or headache from eating and drinking too much.  Lance was entitled to have her because they were married, but Madra decided to see how long he would let her preserve her virtue.  Putting it to the back of her mind, she concentrated on the fabulous meal in front of them.

             After dinner, Lance escorted her back to their suite and went to have a brandy in the smoking room downstairs.  Thankful for the solitude, Madra undressed slowly and got in bed.  She had to admit to herself that she felt something for him.  She didn’t know what it was.  The fact that she had been forced into marrying him still upset her.  She didn’t want her life to be miserable, so she figured that sooner or later she would have to learn to accept what Fate had dealt her.  But, for the time being, she was going to take her own time about doing so.  When, or even if, she did come to love Lance, it was going to be on her terms and no one else’s.  She held desperately to that because it was the only aspect of her life that she still had control over. 

            After what seemed like an hour or two later, she heard Lance open the door to her bedroom and come to stand beside her bed.  She kept her eyes closed and her breathing even so that he would think she was asleep.  After a few minutes of watching her, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. 

            “Sleep well my love.”  Lance whispered, watching her sleep peacefully. 

             It took all of Madra’s will power to hold perfectly still.  She was touched by the emotion in his voice.  And his deep whisper sent shivers down her spine.  After he had closed the door behind him, she breathed a sigh of relief.  ‘What am I doing to him?’ She wondered to herself before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter 8