"I cannot believe I am wed to him," Gemma thought to herself. "He is more like my brother, he cannot be my husband." Silently she cursed the marriage their parents had arranged upon her birth. She knew the contract by heart for she had read and reread it trying to find a way out. It said that as soon as both had reached their majority they would be wed. In her mind she was much too young to be wed. Even though she knew girls from the village who had had two children by her age.
Gemma had no experience with men and was dreading what was to come. Her mother had hinted at what would happen but had told her to just trust her new husband. She resented the fact that boys were allowed to experiment where girls were not. He probably knew exactly what would happen even though they were the same age.
Not knowing what to do Gemma stood with her arms crossed and stared defiantly across the bedchamber at her nemesis, her husband.
"I cannot believe I am wed to her," Caelin thought simultaneously with his bride. "I have known her as long as I can remember. She is 'the brat,' not my wife. Caelin was at as much of a loss for what to do as Gemma was. Of course he knew what people did beneath the blankets in the night; he wasn't deaf and blind.
His father had gone into graphic detail on how to pleasure a woman; hoping to incite Caelin's interest. But, much to his father's consternation, he had never acted on the few lustful thoughts he had had. Caelin had always been more interested in learning, both from books and of the art of war. He knew he was different from other men his age but it had never bothered him before.
Now he cursed his lack of previous interest. Caelin did not want to embarrass himself in front of Gemma. The need to conduct himself smoothly was increased tenfold by his long acquaintance with her.
One thought kept running through Caelin's mind "she is mine." He could not avoid the persisting thought. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her. He realized with a jolt that that knowledge was arousing in itself. What he had previously considered sinful thoughts raced through his brain; images of what he would do to her this night.
"Why is he staring at me?" Gemma asked herself. "Why doesn't he do something?" But Caelin just stood stock-still his eyes burning into her. So Gemma took matters into her own hands. "If he is not interested, I shall prepare for bed," she told herself.
Turning from Caelin, Gemma walked to behind a screen where she slipped out of her gown. Too late she realized there was no nightdress for her. She made a mental note to scold her maid for the oversight. Only slightly self-consciously Gemma stepped from behind the screen thinking, "We are married, we will live the rest of our lives together, why should I be ashamed?" However as she walked across the bedroom she found he was still staring. Suddenly she felt extremely exposed and rushed to jump under the covers.
Caelin had to suppress a gasp as his bride emerged from behind the flimsy screen. "My god she is beautiful." He moved towards her unbuttoning his shirt as he came nearer. Without warning he reached for the covers on the bed and flipped them back revealing his pale bride. She squealed and reached for the blankets, but he held them back, drinking in the sight of her.
In his eyes she was perfect. Her milky white body was long and lithe. Her breasts were large and firm, her stomach flat. Gemma's legs were perfectly formed, long and slender. Her hair was long and curly, a lustrous red. But what attracted him most was her delicate face. She had high cheekbones and a perfect small nose. Her eyes were a luminous brown rimmed with soft lashes.
