A Most Unsuitable Match
Chapter 5

Time was passing much quicker than Isadora would have liked. She had hoped it would go slowly, but of course, it did the complete opposite. She found that time was being decidedly against her, and had decided to speed up. The days were passing quickly, soon turning into weeks. All the wedding preparations were going along as well, and Isadora knew it would not be long before it would reach a point when the process would be too far gone to reverse. Though she was wishing that she could, she knew she was wishing in vain.

The only saving grace was that, despite the fact that he had come to their townhouse several times, she did not have to see Beckett very much. When he would come over, he and her father would disappear into Mr. Harcourt's study, sometimes for hours on end. Isadora could only speculate on what they were discussing. Most likely settling the terms of her dowry which, while not a grandiose amount, obviously had been enough to tempt Beckett in the first place.

The fact that her father was detaining Beckett most of the time was quite a blessing. Ever since the dinner at his townhouse, Isadora had been dreading the next time they would be alone together. And that fear came not from concern over what he might do, but rather what she herself might do. It seemed every time they met now, her resolve became less and less strong. It made her furious to think of how easily she had been submitting to him, and Isadora vowed that would not be the case once they were wed. She would not let him be her master. Never.

Of course, it was easy to make such resolutions while she was not in Beckett's presence. The longer she went without seeing him, the more assured she became. But though she did not consider it, that assurance began to smack of overconfidence. Isadora became so certain of the strength of her will that she was positive she would be able to resist Beckett. She told herself so time and time again. And yet, there was always a nagging thought at the back of her mind reminding her of his cold, piercing gaze, his inexplicably domineering presence, and her repeated submission to him...

One day, the test of Isadora's will finally came. And it came about quite by accident. She had been in the drawing room, working on a batch of embroidery. Having finished, she left leaving the room to retire to her own chambers for a while. However, just as she stepped out into the hall , she saw Beckett emerge from the study--and she felt a wave of panic wash over her. He smiled at her, that smug, unnerving smile, and bowed slightly.

"Isadora my dear, how lovely to see you," he said.

It took a moment for her to gather her wits enough to reply.

"Lovely to see you as well, my lord," she finally forced herself to say, while giving a short curtsey.

Beckett came across the hall towards her. Isadora braced herself. This was it. This was the true test of her resolve, a test she feared she was already failing. Just being in his presence had shaken her terribly, and she was now struggling to keep herself calm as he came up to her.

For a moment, he did nothing; he simply stood there and observed her with a slightly amused expression. That did not please her, but it did not unsettle her either. She forced herself to be calm, yet did not lower her defenses completely. She wanted to keep herself prepared for whatever he might be planning.

At last, Beckett spoke.

"I trust you know that there are certain responsibilities which are part of being a wife?" he eventually said.

Isadora stiffened, standing up straight.

"I do. I am well aware of the duties of a wife," she replied.

"I am pleased to hear it," he smirked again at her, "I would hate to have to make you learn your place if you were to become disobedient."

She narrowed her eyes at him, all her determination of the past weeks rising to the surface due to his arrogant tone.

"You are not my master," she hissed, "I am my own person."

Beckett moved even nearer to her, so that they now were in very close proximity indeed. All at once, the strength that Isadora had been feeling melted away, replaced by fear and panic. She tried to take a step back, but found she was up against the wall--in more ways than one. Looking up, she saw that he was staring at her with that ice cold gaze, and she swore she could feel a chill creep over her body.

"That is where you are wrong, dear Isadora." His voice was low, and despite his calm tone, she could sense the underlying malice in it. "When a woman marries, she becomes her husband's property, body and soul. And I will possess both of yours, in due time. Until then, I suggest you learn to accept your place, and more importantly, learn how to honor your husband."

Suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed her. Isadora was too shocked to think or do anything at first, but her resistance quickly came alive, and she tried to shove him away. That proved to be unnecessary, for Beckett soon ended the kiss as quickly as he had started it. Smug grin in place once more, he bowed to her again and started off down the hall. Isadora remained where she was, leaning against the wall and taking several deep breaths.

It had happened so fast that she was struggling to comprehend. Even before his sudden assault, she had been readying herself to resist, to fend him off. She had wanted to test herself against him, wanted to prove that she would not give in. But then he had gone and...and...kissed her...

Gingerly, she raised her hand to her face and touched her fingers to her lips. It had not been the first time she had been kissed, but it was nothing like the few kisses she had experienced before. Those had been quick, chaste pecks without any real feeling of passion behind them. This had been different. She had felt a definite underlying passion from Beckett, and that brief kiss seemed to hold the promise of more. And not just kisses but other things as well. Her mind drifted to that lascivious painting in his study, and she thought of how they would soon be doing the same things. Deny it though she might, Isadora was now finding the idea of all of that very appealing...

She shook her head firmly, feeling a blush coming over her face. No, she would not--could not be enticed by Beckett at all. She was not ignorant of what went on between a man and woman. Seeing that painting had been the first time she had glimpsed such activity, but it had not been the first she had heard of it. Though her mother had died when she was very young, Isadora had learned about the facts of life from her maid, a woman who had become almost like a mother to her. She had explained much to Isadora, in the hopes that she would not be frightened when her wedding night finally came.

Now it was almost upon her, and though she was prepared, Isadora was frightened all the same. The fact that she knew what to expect was the basis for her apprehension, for everything which would happen was all going to involve Beckett. Her feeling of confidence that she had spent weeks building up was evaporating in a matter of minutes. That kiss, along with the memory of what her maid had explained and the thought of the painting, had made Isadora more worried than ever. And yet...she also came to find that she was feeling a certain amount of excitement as well. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, but it was there all the same. And to her shock, it seemed to be increasing the more she thought about these things.

Surely that realization was the most terrifying thought of all.