Chapter 19

There was something special about Abbotgate House, and Cassie had fallen in love with the place from the moment she had first seen the outside. She often thought about the reason why she felt so at home within its walls, but it was difficult to explain to herself exactly what it was that had drawn her to the house. It was certainly not the building itself. It had suffered from years of neglect and was in a state of disrepair; the fires smoked; the furniture was old and uncomfortable; the roof leaked when it rained; and the house was full of mice that, over the years, had nibbled their way through most of the carpets and soft furnishings. Despite all this, Cassie had never felt more content.

Damien had spent most of April with Appleby, assessing whether the estate could be made financially viable. He had told Cassie that he was confident that he could, with the help of the money he had received from selling his Captaincy, restore the estate's fortunes. Even though the land had become fallow, he thought it could, with time and hard graft, support a wide range of livestock.

Cassie never went beyond the confines of the house and gardens, even though Damien continually invited her to accompany him when he inspected the rest of the estate. Every time he had asked her, she had always given him an excuse. And, much to her relief, he never pressured her to come with him. She just stayed behind and helped Mrs Appleby clear and clean the house. It was not as though Cassie had not wanted to go with him. She was getting a little restless being cooped up in the house all day, having to listen to Mrs Appleby's constant prattle; but, she did not want to put Damien into an awkward situation with his neighbours.

Cassie knew that she attracted a good deal of attention wherever she went. Her bright blue eyes and golden hair were a potent combination that was difficult to conceal. And, however much she tried to disguise them, it was never nearly enough, and they still brought her unwarranted attention. However, recently, she had become aware that not only could she be recognised by someone she had met at one of Ellington's establishments, she could also ruin Damien's reputation within the local community. If it were widely known that he was living in the same house as an unmarried woman, with a dubious past, his good name would be irrevocably damaged. No one looking at her would believe that she was Damien's nurse. Not only did she not look the part, but Damien was also strong and no longer needed constant nursing care. What he needed more than anything else, were new friends; friends that could help him build up his business and eventually help him become a respected member of the local farming community.

Even though they did not spend their days in each other's company, they still spent time together in the evenings. After a simple supper, that Cassie had helped to prepare, they would sit by the fire in one of the habitable rooms on the ground floor. They had found some furniture that had not been too damaged by the mice and damp and had brought it into the room. With the help of Appleby, Damien had managed to partially unblock the main chimney, so that the smoke could escape outside and not fill the room with stringent fumes.

One evening, about a month after they had first arrived, they were in their usual positions by the fire. Damien was sitting on a large leather chair, that had been surprisingly untouched by the resident livestock, and Cassie was sitting next to his feet, with her back propped up against the leg of his chair, on a threadbare rug they had positioned by the fire. As she attempted to mend a small tear in one of Damien's shirts, she had an intense look of concentration on her face. Cassie then sighed, and impatiently threw the shirt to one side, 'I wish I had paid more attention to that dragon of a needlework teacher we had at school. I would always pour scorn on her lessons, and just as she predicted, I am regretting it!'

Damien laughed. 'Give it to me,' he said smiling at her and holding out his hands, 'I am more than capable of mending my own shirts. You do know, that I have been doing it for the last ten years.'

Cassie gave him the shirt and watched him neatly stitch the tear. 'There,' he said after he had finished stitching it, 'I think even your teacher would have been happy with that.'

'I'm sure she would,' she said as she looked critically at his stitching, 'how can you make them so small and neat? My stitches are always big and quite ugly.'

'Practice,' he said proudly, 'lots of practice.'

'Be careful,' she said as she turned and looked up at him playfully, 'I'll tell Mrs Appleby of your exceptional talents with a needle. When she sets you to work, mending all the linen that the moths have virtually destroyed, in that large cupboard at the top of the stairs, you'll be sorry.'

'No, please,' he said laughing, 'she would not leave me alone until I'd finished the lot!'

'You're not telling me, Captain Laws, that you are frightened of the diminutive Mrs Appleby?' Cassie said lightly.

'Frightened isn't the word I'd use. I would say I was terrified of her!' he said laughing.

Once Damien had put the shirt to one side, he stretched his legs out in front of him and closed his eyes. The only sound in the room was the comforting crackle of the fire. As Cassie began to stare at the fire, looking at the dancing golden flames, she leant her head against his thigh. There was no need to fill the silence with chatter, they were both comfortable sitting together in the ensuing silence. As she continued to lean against him and listen to the comforting crackle of the fire, Cassie felt a warm feeling of contentment well up deep inside her body, as Damien began to caress her hair that she wore loose around her shoulders.

When they had been living in Brussels, Cassie had always felt that Damien had been distant with her, and had gone out of his way not to touch her or show her any sign of physical affection. However, since they had arrived at Abbotgate House, he had lost some of his reserve and had become increasingly affectionate with her. He had started by holding her hand when they went for a walk in the garden, and then he began to kiss her on the cheek after he had returned from visiting his estate in the afternoons. As the weeks wore on, he became bolder, and as they sat in the evenings by the fire, he had begun to touch and caress her hair. Cassie always savoured these intimate little gestures and was disappointed when he stopped. He was unlike any man she had ever met; he was tender and kind and always treated her with respect. She was beginning to feel an attachment to him that she found difficult to describe. She had thought to herself that it could not be love: she had loved once, and that had brought her nothing but heartache.

'How is your shoulder?' she asked in almost a whisper, after a long silence.

'A little stiff, but it's not as painful as it was,' he said as he continued to fondle her hair. 'I have started to ride again. I would not have been able to do that a few weeks ago.'

Cassie stood up, sat on his lap and put her arms around his neck. When she felt him put his arms around her waist, she relaxed against his chest and rested her head against his shoulder. They sat like this for several minutes, until Damien said, 'Cass, you look much better. You are getting a little colour back into your cheeks. I do believe that the Kent air has done you a world of good.'

Cassie lifted her head, looked at him and smiled. 'I feel so much better. I am only taking a few drops of laudanum a week. Soon, I won't need it at all,' she then looked over at him and said, 'I think that all that fresh air and exercise you get following Appleby around must be doing you a world of good. You are also looking well.'

'Yes, I believe it is,' he said with a chuckle. After a short silence, he said, 'I am sorry the house is in such a poor state of repair. There is very little I can do about it until I have the farm up and running. I need all the money from selling my Captaincy, to invest in livestock.'

'Please do not worry about me,' she said, looking at him earnestly, 'I love this house, and I feel at home here. And I will not have a word said against the smoking fires, the creaking floorboards or even the draughty windows. Seriously, Damien, I would not change them for the world.'

'I'm not sure I agree with all your reasons for liking Abbotgate, but I'm happy here as well. I never thought I could ever belong anywhere else except the army. But here, I feel a peace of mind that I have not felt for a long time.'

They sat in silence for some time, and Cassie felt so relaxed that she almost fell asleep. 'Cass,' he said, arousing her from her sleepy state, 'I need to get my hair cut. It's grown past my shoulders. And, I'm also going to have to get rid of this beard I have let grow out of control.'

'I think that your beard makes you look distinguished,' she said, turning around to touch his chin and then run her fingers through his beard.

Damien laughed gently. 'I believe you mean, old.'

'I can cut your hair,' she said, 'and, I can give you a shave. I used to be splendid at it when...' She stopped, and her expression changed. Cassie had still not spoken to Damien about what had happened to her. She did not want to tell him about her past. She was frightened that if he knew only a fraction of what she had done, he would hold her in contempt.

'I don't want to upset you,' he said looking at her blank expression, 'you must not do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.'

'No, I will do it,' she had said, now looking at him confidently. 'As I said, I used to be very good at it.' Her mischievous smile returned, as she pushed those unwelcome thoughts about her past to one side. 'I could make you look as devastatingly handsome as Lord Byron or one of the other romantic poets,' she said playfully. 'When I have finished with you, you will have every unmarried woman in the county asking after you.'

'Stop,' Damien said laughing, 'next you will have me writing terrible poetry and holding recitals at Abbotgate House.'

'I could do it tonight,' Cassie said turning around and looking at Damien. 'I could go to the kitchen and heat some water, while you go upstairs and find your shaving kit.'

An hour later, Cassie was standing behind Damien as he sat in a chair in the middle of his bedchamber. He had managed to light a fire, that after the successful removal of a bird's nest from the chimney a few days ago, did not let too much smoke into the room. 'Are you ready?' she had asked after she had combed his hair and was about to cut it with his razor that he had just sharpened.

'Yes,' he said as he sat still on the chair, 'I trust you.'

'Good,' she said as long strands of his hair began to fall on the floor, 'this will not take long.'

She could sense him relax, as she continued to cut his hair. 'Finished,' she eventually said as she tousled his hair with her fingers. She took a step back and examined her handy-work. 'That is much better,' she said confidently, 'now I think I should tackle your beard.'

Damien sat very still as Cassie glided the razor carefully across his chin and neck. It was the first time he had shaved since he had been injured, and it took some time to remove the thick beard that had grown during the intervening months.

When she had finished, Damien stood up and walked over to the basin of warm water that had been placed on a washstand, and carefully removed the excess soap from his face. Once he had finished washing and had dried his face with a cloth, he went to stand in front of the mirror. 'That's much better,' he said as he smoothed his face with his hands. 'I have wanted to get rid of that for some time.'

Cassie then walked over to the mirror and stood to face him. As she looked at him, she reached up and tenderly touched his smooth cheek with her fingertips. As she continued to caress his cheek and jawline, he slowly turned around to face her. He rested his hands lightly on her hips and drew her a little closer to him. They were now so close that their cheeks were almost touching, and she could feel the warmth of his body through hers. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and savoured the warm, masculine smell of his shaving soap.

'Cass,' he whispered huskily in her ear as he touched her cheek with his.

Cassie then slowly moved her head and brushed her lips against his. She put one of her hands on his chest, just under his shirt and then she slipped her other hand around the back of his neck so that she could caress his recently styled hair. Then, she parted her lips as an invitation for him to deepen the kiss. As they kissed, he slowly slipped his hands around her waist and gently pulled her closer. Cassie sighed as she savoured the warmth that began to pool deep inside the core of her body.

He then lifted his head and looked at her. Cassie could see that his eyes, a curious mixture of grey and blue, were full of desire. 'Cass,' he whispered, as he rested his head on her forehead, 'I don't want to take advantage of you.'

Cassie, whose arms were still tightly wound around the back of his neck, smiled at him. 'Oh, Damien,' she said tenderly, 'I'm the one taking advantage of you.'

'No, Cass,' he said seriously taking hold of her arms gently and resting them carefully by her side. 'I do not want you to feel that you have to do this,' he said taking a step back from her.

Cassie put her arms by her side and took a step back. She could feel the sting of tears in the corner of her eyes. 'Damien, come and sit next to me,' she said as she motioned towards the bed, 'I need to talk to you.'

Damien followed her towards the bed, sat next to her and took her hand in his. 'What is it?' he said as he tenderly wiped her tears from her cheeks with his other hand.

'The night you went away to battle, I couldn't sleep. In the early hours of the morning, Betsy came to me, and told me something that I am finally, after all these months, beginning to understand.' Cassie took another deep breath, held it for a couple of seconds, and then slowly breathed out. 'She told me all about her first husband and how dreadfully he had treated her, and why after his death, she kept refusing to marry Joe. After years of refusing his proposals, she began to foolishly believe that if she accepted Joe's offer, something dreadful would happen to him.' Cassie then leant her head against his shoulder. 'Betsy did warn me,' she said in almost a whisper, 'that I should not let what happened to me, when I was under Ellington's control, influence my future: she said that I should search my heart.'

'I think, at last, I am beginning to understand what she was trying to tell me,' she said as she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes still glassy with tears. 'I know you are nothing like Ellington.' Cassie took his right hand and held it in both of hers, 'Damien,' she said as she began to caress his fingers. 'I do not know if I love you,' she said honestly, 'I still don't know if I truly understand what love is, or if I ever will. But, I feel a longing for you deep inside,' she said as she pointed towards her heart. 'I don't want to be alone anymore.' Cassie then looked at him, her eyes still bright with tears. 'Please, Damien,' she said imploringly, 'I want you. Let me stay here with you tonight.'

Damien looked at her and touched her cheek gently with his finger. 'Cassie, I do not want to hurt you.'

She smiled at him and kissed him delicately on the lips. 'You could never hurt me,' she said softly, cupping his jaw with her hands, 'never.'