Strange Bedfellows
~ ch. 16, continued ~
She could truly say that she
was thankful for the strong arm beneath her hand.
Dara turned the corner, stepped into the Great Hall of Wyndemere and was
awed.
Wyndemere’s Great Hall was
constructed identically to the one in Catherine Palace, a bit smaller but no
less ornate. It was the single
location within the palatial dwelling that was not dark or somber.
Massive gold-gilded windows allowed sunlight to pour into the cavernous
room. It was as startling a
contrast as anything you would find inside Wyndemere.
At the far end of the Great
Hall stood Nikolas Cassadine dressed in a handsome black suit.
A white boutonnière lay in stark contrast against his lapel.
He strode forward to greet Dara with a warm smile of support and
understanding.
“No one would fault you if
you have changed your mind,” Nikolas murmured under the guise of bussing her
cheek.
Dara flashed the young man a
smile that was far more assured than she felt. “This is what I want.”
“Your surety pleases me.”
Stefan, Dara, Nikolas and Mrs.
Landsbury all turned toward the sound of the quiet voice.
Monsignor Eymard, the local Catholic bishop, stepped out of a room just
off the Great Hall. His long,
formal robes just swept the intricate marble floor.
“Marriage should always be entered into with such conviction,” the
bishop proclaimed.
For the first time since that
fateful day Stefan showed up on her doorstep, Dara felt fully the scope of what
she was about to do. Seeing Bishop
Eymard reminded the young attorney of the sanctity of the vows she intended to
take.
Dara felt a sudden heaviness
in the pit of her stomach. She had
convinced herself that it was no big deal to stand before a judge and promise to
make a life with Stefan Cassadine, a total stranger.
Especially since she knew that their ‘marriage’ only had to survive
for the two years it would take for Nikolas to reach his majority and gain total
control of the Cassadine wealth. But
it was something completely different to stand before a man of God and make a
mockery of such sacred vows.
Stefan must have sensed her
sudden discomfort. He placed a
comforting hand atop hers and leaned in to murmur in her ear.
“Perhaps it will ease your qualms to know that I do not take this
marriage lightly, whatever its purpose.”
‘No,’ Dara thought
to herself, ‘it doesn’t.’
