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recognition! It was he – the gentleman at the ball who
had kept staring at her but hadn’t asked for a dance. It was The
Mystery Man. He must have known then that she was destined to be
his bride. Why hadn’t he introduced himself? As she reached the
altar, the music stopped and she found herself looking up into sky
blue eyes. She flushed prettily; something about the way Sir
Frederic Von Dresden was staring at her was most disturbing. She
felt a responsive throb deep inside, in a private place.
    He was not bad looking, tall and straight
with a shock of brown hair. She did like a full head of hair on a
man. She was right about his being military - he was wearing some
sort of uniform, she had no idea what kind, and his posture was
impeccable. He had a sword in a scabbard strapped to his waist. She
noticed he had a few pockmarks on his tanned face but they didn’t
detract from his appearance. If anything, they gave his face
character and made those startling eyes stand out even more. Now
those eyes were looking upon her with a burning intensity. She felt
like asking, “Do I know you sir?” but realized that would be a
strange thing to say to one’s fiancé at the altar.
    The vicar began to speak and then she
wondered - did her fiancé even know English? Perhaps they wouldn’t
even be able to communicate, for she certainly didn’t know German.
But her husband-to-be spoke his vows in perfect English. He didn’t
stumble over any of the words, and he spoke with only a hint of an
accent.
    When it was Cassandra’s turn to recite her
vows, she politely looked into Sir Frederic’s eyes and spoke about
loving and honoring and obeying him. She promised herself to this
man, this complete stranger, and only to him for the rest of her
days. She felt dazed, speaking as if in a dream.
    The vicar asked for the rings. Cassandra
turned and handed the bouquet that had been shoved into her hands
to a woman standing next to her. Her Maid of Honor turned out to be
her future sister-in-law, Teresa. She smiled at her and then turned
back to face Sir Frederic. She looked at her fiancé expectantly and
he turned, confused. He began to fumble, running his hands through
his pockets and looking around. There were no rings. Perfect, the
perfect ending to a surreal experience.
    Cassandra looked back at her father
pointedly. Apparently this wedding had been as much of a surprise
to her groom as it had been to the bride. So much for her father
putting “a great deal of time” into making the arrangements. Her
parents tried to remove their rings but were unable to get them
off. Cassandra gave a barely perceptible shake of her head and
lowered her eyelashes, not wanting to stare at her groom as he
fumbled. Finally he leaned over and said something to the vicar,
who looked stunned and then flipped forward in his prayer book and
to the pronouncing them husband and wife part.
    Cassandra immediately developed a new
philosophy to see her through the rest of her life: Expect nothing
and you won’t be disappointed. The vicar pronounced them married
and then her husband grabbed her and cheekily gave her a lusty
kiss. Cassandra was stunned and almost fell back when he released
her. The kiss had shocked her with its intensity. He hadn’t pressed
hard or gotten sloppy, but she had definitely felt something when
he’d pressed his lips against hers, as though a bolt of electricity
had shot between them. She opened her eyes and looked up at him,
surprised. He smiled confidently down at her and then suddenly
everyone was swarming around the happy couple, congratulating the
groom, giving best wishes to the bride.
    After the ceremony, the entire party walked
through the grove back to the house. It was a lovely day and the
setting was magical. Cassandra had never seen the overhead branches
look quite like they looked this day. Perhaps it was the way the
sun was shining after the hard rain of the day before. The trees
seemed to sparkle and, as they emerged into