Page 27 of Dropping the Ball

Alden was not far behind. He let out a fierce cry, and his thrusts increased before hitting their peak. He was slow to finish, moving within her long after his tension released. Eventhen, he seemed to want to stay joined with her as he collapsed and rolled to his side, keeping her tight in his embrace.

“That was glorious,” he panted several moments later, once both of them had sailed out of the storm of passion and into the realm of mere mortals again.

“Bliss,” Bernadette agreed, unable to say much more.

Alden kissed her, long and tenderly, when neither could find more words. They moved, their bodies separating, to find their way under the bedclothes together, then curled into each other for more kissing and touching. Bernadette could hardly imagine what she had done to deserve such wonders.

“We will call the entire ball off,” Alden said sometime later, a smile in his voice and his eyes as he stroked the side of Bernadette’s face. “Or it will be changed to an engagement ball for the two of us.”

“Oh,” Bernadette gasped. Guilt and misery welled up in her. How could she have been so foolish as to forget the circumstances surrounding her? Passion truly was an elixir that made sensible people forget everything.

“I will write to your father at once,” Alden went on, so full of joy that it wounded Bernadette. “Are there marriage customs in East Anglia that I should be aware of? It is proper for me to ask your father for your hand, is it not? Even though you are an Oxford Society lady?”

“Alden,” Bernadette said, trying to pull herself away from him and beginning to feel sick.

“I know my family will not care whether things are done properly or not,” Alden went on. “Uncle Gerald will just be happy that I’ve found a wife.”

“Alden,” she tried again.

But Alden was too caught up in his own ideas. “Forget using the ball as an engagement announcement. We shouldbe married at once and have the ball as a celebration of that marriage.”

It was too much. Everything he said was everything she wanted, but all of it was impossible. The sooner she put an end to it the better.

“Alden,” she said again, rising on one arm and placing a hand on his damp chest, as if to still him.

“Yes, my love?” he asked, smiling and reaching up to brush a lock of hair back from her face.

Bernadette swallowed to keep herself from sobbing. “We cannot marry.”

Alden’s smile remained for a few seconds after her statement, then dropped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I have been falling in love with you since the moment we met, and I know that you have feelings for me as well. We’ve just shared our souls with each other, and do not tell me it meant nothing to you, because I know it did.”

The urge to weep grew stronger, and Bernadette lowered her head. “I do wish to marry you,” she said, pain in her voice. “I … I have fallen in love with you as well.”

Alden pushed himself to sit and grasped her hands. “Well then?” He seemed so desperately confused. “Why should we not marry?”

Bernadette swallowed. “Because I am already married,” she said, unable to look at him.

A terrifying, extended moment of silence followed before Alden asked, “What?”

Bernadette raised her eyes to meet his, summoning all her strength. “I have only met him once, though we have corresponded frequently over the last more than ten years. His name is Harold Hethersett. He is one of East Anglia’s ambassadors to Norway.”

Alden stared at her, blinked, then said, “I do not understand.”

Bernadette sighed, her whole body sagging. She pulled her hands away from Alden’s, then shifted to sit against the headboard, hugging herself.

“My father is a baron, but he has always wanted to increase our family’s power and influence. As his eldest daughter, he saw me as the ideal way to do that. I was allowed to attend Oxford so that I would become educated and able to carry on a conversation with the highest of men.

“Shortly after graduating, he announced to me that he had contracted a marriage for me to Lord Harold Hethersett, whose father is a marquess. The two of us were introduced, and we liked each other well enough, but there was no spark there. At the same time, Hethersett was called to Christiana to begin his tenure as Ambassador to Norway. The troubles between Norway and Sweden had only begun in those days, and Hethersett, who is very much liked by both sides in the conflict, was called upon to broker negotiations.”

Bernadette sighed and brushed away a stray tear that had escaped. Her fate was bitterly unfair, now more than ever.

“We were married by proxy the following summer,” she said.

“By proxy?” Alden asked with a frown. “Is that legally binding?”

Bernadette nodded. “Proxy marriages, while not common, are very much legally binding in East Anglia. I signed the paperwork, under my father’s supervision, and Hethersett signed his contract from his post abroad.”

“But you say you have only ever met your … your husband once?” Alden was clearly incredulous.

---