The Arranged Marriage

"Perhaps," I said, kneeling by his side, frowning at the young man. "Why? Do you think he is near it?"

He did not look away. "He could be persuaded in that direction."

I lowered my voice even more. "How?"

"My father is not in good health, and is near sixty. If his . . . endurence was suddenly to be pushed, it is not impossible it would be more than he could bear."

"A heart attack," I whispered, more terrified than I had ever been.

He moved his mouth to my ear, and despite the chill of his words, I felt another shiver go down my back due to his lips so close to me. "It would be especially convincing if the bed creaked for all hours of the night, and he was - ah - loudly enthusiastic. You would, of course, be pardonned when they saw your virgin blood."

"What?" I said, my voice shaking.

"Don't worry," he whispered, his lips skimming my ear. "It wouldn't be him you were sleeping with."

I was still in shock when he slipped a small packet to me - sliding his hand along my breast and dropping the packet in my bodice. I tried to leap away, but he caught my waist and held me to him. "Serve him wine before bed, and slip this in him. He'll be out in a minute, and then I'll come into his room, and we'll set everything up." He let me move a little away. "You're going to go through with this, aren't you," he commanded, his eyes cold.

"Yes," I said, the single syllable trembling.

"Good," he said, and smiled briefly. No threats were needed from him. He pulled me to him once more and brushed him lips lightly over mine. "Go," he said pushing me towards the church doors. "I will see you later tonight."