Chapter 28

Earlier that morning, part-way through Miss Cavendish's unexpected visit, Damien's memories, the memories that had been tantalisingly out of reach since his accident, suddenly returned. It was when the young lady reminded him about the miniature that her father, Sir Henry Cavendish, had taken from him, that they suddenly reappeared. It had shocked and saddened him when he had realised that he had forgotten a part of his life that had become so important to him; his dear Cassie.

As Miss Cavendish described to him the woman in the miniature, with her golden hair and expressive blue eyes, he had felt a deep sense of loss. He immediately knew that she had been precious to him. He remembered their time in Brussels when she had nursed him back to health after Waterloo. He remembered that she had come back with him to Abbotgate and had become an integral part of the running of his household. He remembered that she was much more to him than just a friend; she was his lover. Damien, during the past year, had found the happiness and contentment that he thought would always allude him in her arms. And, after everything they had been through together, he had left her alone, with no explanation for his absence, for three weeks.

When Miss Cavendish told him that her father had shown the miniature to two gentlemen, he became increasingly concerned for Cassie's safety. But it was not until Miss Cavendish had mentioned the man's name, Major Ellington, that a cold fear gripped his heart. He then began to remember the first time he had seen her. She had been alone, naked and chained to the wall in that filthy cellar. There had been deep red, raw wounds across her back, that had been the result of a savage and prolonged whipping. He remembered the fear in her eyes, as he had entered the chamber. And he remembered the name of the man, who had caused her that pain; Major Stephan Ellington.

'Oh Cassie,' he said to himself, as he quickly readied himself for the journey, 'I have left you for far too long.'

From the conversation that Miss Cavendish had overheard earlier that day, he was in no doubt that Ellington was intent on finding her. He had become increasingly aware that it would be easy for Ellington to find the location of Abbotgate from Mr Morton's offices. Damien had known that Ellington would stop at nothing to get her back under his control. Meeting him again had been Cassie's greatest fear, and she had warned him many times that Ellington would never give up the search for her. She had told him that he would move heaven and earth to bring her back to the brothel where she had lived. She had also told him that once she had returned, Ellington would punish her for her desertion.

As Damien descended the steps of Limington Place and walked across the pavement to his awaiting carriage, he prayed that he was not going to be too late. He spoke briefly to the coachman, who nodded with recognition when Damien told him the direction of Abbotgate House. As he ascended the steps into the well-sprung carriage, with his unfamiliar family crest emblazoned on the door, he glanced up at Limington Place.

Over the past weeks, even with his failing memory, he had known that there had been something missing in this new life that had been thrust upon him. This morning, Miss Cavendish had provided him with enough information to fill in some of the missing gaps in his memory. Once he had begun to remember some of his past, the rest soon came flooding back. And, over the past hour, he had come to realise that all his newly acquired wealth and status, paled into insignificance when he thought of what he had left behind at Abbotgate: the woman he loved.

It was late that evening when Damien's carriage finally approached Abbotgate House. During their last stop to change the horses, he had asked the coachman to draw the carriage up just outside the main entrance. Throughout the day, he had plenty of time to mull over the conversation he had had with Miss Cavendish, earlier that day. He knew that Ellington would have left very early that morning and had more than likely already reached Abbotgate. It was a frightening thought for Damien when he realised that Ellington may well have found her and had already taken her away. But he had to hold onto the fact that there may still be a slim chance that Ellington would have decided to remain with her at Abbotgate, even if it was for just one night.

Damien had not wanted the arrival of his carriage to alert Ellington to his presence, so he had decided to be dropped off just before the front gate. Once his carriage had come to a halt, Damien jumped down to the ground, even before the coachman had had a chance to pull down the steps. 'Arnott,' Damien said to him, 'we passed an inn half a mile down the road. Go back and wait there until I send for you.'

If Arnott, at any point, had thought the request unusual, he kept that thought very much to himself. 'Very good, my lord,' he said, showing no undue concern at his master's unusual request. Damien then watched as his carriage turned around at the entrance of Abbotgate, and he continued to watch as it disappeared down the road towards the neighbouring village.

Once Damien was satisfied that the carriage was out of sight, and the noise had not alerted anyone to his arrival, he crept through the two stone pillars that marked the entrance to the estate. As he walked cautiously down the driveway, keeping himself hidden in the shadows cast by the trees, he looked at the house to see if he could observe any signs of life.

All he could see was thin slivers of light peeping through the gaps of the ill-fitting shutters of the library windows. Damien had fond memories of that room; it had been the room where he had spent many hours sitting with Cassie. As he looked at the thin strips of light, he hoped beyond hope that she was sitting by the fire reading a book, and the light he could observe, was coming from the candle she always kept close to her in the evenings. He made his way warily towards the window of the library and cautiously looked into the room through one of the cracks in the old oak panels of the shutters. He could not examine the whole room clearly. It was difficult to make out everything in the room through the thin crack, but he soon became aware of someone sitting in one of the leather chairs that had been carefully placed by the fire to take advantage of its warmth. It was not easy to distinguish the identity of the person who was lounging in the chair. However, as he examined the masculine arm and hand of the chair's occupant, he knew, with a heavy heart, that it could not be Cassie.

Even though it had been many years since he had last seen Ellington, and even though he could now only see the man's arm and hand, Damien knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that it was him. As he continued to look at him, Damien's heart burned with hatred. He thought about how that man had taken pleasure in destroying the lives of others. He thought of Cassie, and how he had taken her dreams for her future and mercilessly crushed them. Damien took a deep breath and steadied himself. He knew that any hatred he felt would cloud his judgement and decrease his chances of saving Cassie. He had to gain the upper hand, and that required him to stay calm and keep his wits about him.

Damien was aware that it would not be easy to overpower Ellington. After all, Ellington was a good few inches taller than Damien and had the physical advantage. But, over the years as a soldier, Damien had fought bigger and stronger men than him and had been victorious. No, his fears were far more concerning to him than the mere size of his opponent. Damien knew that after the accident, he had not fully regained either his physical or mental strength. He was aware that without either of these, he would find it difficult to beat Ellington, but with both impaired, it was nigh on impossible.

Damien stopped to think of a way that he could enter the house, without being seen by Ellington. Fortunately, after spending many school holidays here with his grandfather, he knew the house like the back of his hand. Every creaky door and floorboard were familiar to him. He remembered that there was a broken window pane in the room next to the library, and, like on many other occasions, he would be able to use it to enter the house unobserved.

He carefully made his way along the front of the house, keeping himself low in the shadows, cast by the trees and shrubs that grew close to the house, until he found the broken window pane. It was easy for Damien to put his arm through the gap created by the broken glass and carefully open the catch. Once the window had been opened, he entered the room, avoiding the furniture that was still covered with large protective Holland covers that had been placed over them after his grandfather's death. He scanned the room carefully, looking for anything that he could maybe use as a weapon. He was aware that he had left his London residence in a hurry, and he now regretted not bringing anything with him. When he looked at the fireplace, he saw a poker lying by the grate. He quietly walked over to the fireplace, and with his right hand, he picked up the poker, before walking towards the door that he knew lead into the entrance hall. The door moaned softly, as Damien turned the handle and gingerly opened it. Once the door had been opened sufficiently for Damien to peer around it, he checked the entrance hall to ascertain if there was anyone outside.

After he had crept the short distance to the door of the library, he put his left hand on the handle, holding tightly onto the poker that he still held in his right. He was about to open the library door and challenge Ellington when he was arrested by a familiar voice. 'Good evening, sir. You were the last person I was expecting to see tonight.'

Damien quickly turned around in response to the voice and saw Appleby looking at him from the other side of the entrance hall. Damien immediately put his fingers to his lips to quieten the errant servant, but Appleby ignored his plea and continued to converse with him in a loud, booming voice. 'I'll just inform the other gentleman that you're here,' Appleby said as he walked purposefully across the entrance hall, towards the library.

'No, Appleby,' Damien said in a fierce whisper, 'I do not want him to know that I am here.'

'But, sir,' Appleby replied coolly, 'he'll want to know you are here.'

Before Damien could respond, Appleby had opened the door. 'Captain Laws is here to see you, sir,' Appleby announced, as he entered the room.

Major Ellington looked up at Appleby and said, 'well, don't just stand there, show him in.'

Major Ellington stood up and walked over to Damien. 'My lord, this is a pleasant surprise,' Ellington said, as he held out his hand to greet Damien.

Damien looked at his offered hand but did not take it. Ellington shrugged his shoulders and returned to his seat. 'To what do I owe the pleasure,' Ellington said, as he motioned for Damien to be seated in the chair opposite his.

Damien ignored the invitation and continued to stand in front of him. His right hand was still clenched around the poker, and he was tempted to use it there and then. But Damien knew, from his years of experience of being on the battlefield, that he was at a disadvantage. Ellington was a little too far away for him to strike him with any force. And he knew that Ellington would be able to disable him quickly if he were to attack now.

'Oh well, please yourself,' Ellington said, with a shrug of his shoulders. 'But, if you do insist on standing there, I do wish you would stop glowering at me.' He then turned around to Appleby. 'Take that poker from him,' he ordered, 'I can tell by the look in his eyes, that he would like nothing more than to crack my head open with it.'

Damien did not resist when Appleby took the poker from his right hand, but he did continue to stand to glare at Ellington. 'What do you want me to do with it?' Appleby said as he held the poker.

'Take it away,' Ellington said dismissively.

'Right you are, sir,' Appleby replied, 'just ring if you need me.'

'Silverton, to what do I owe the pleasure?' Ellington eventually said to him cheerfully. 'I must admit, I wasn't expecting you to show up here tonight. I would say it is a pleasant surprise, but I do know that poker that you were holding onto tightly when you entered the library, was destined to make contact with the crown of my head. I must say that was very unsporting of you.'

'I've come to take Cassie away,' Damien said, still glaring at Ellington, unable, or even wanting, to disguise the disgust that was burning in his eyes.

Ellington chuckled to himself. 'Have you now,' he eventually said, in a low, but clear voice. 'I think, Silverton, that on that count, you will be sorely disappointed. You must understand that I have no intention of letting you or anyone else for that matter, take her away.' He leant forward in his chair and looked at Damien in the eye, all humour in his voice had disappeared. 'You must understand, Silverton, she belonged to me long before you could profess to have any claim on her.'

Damien clenched his fists in anger. 'She belongs to no one,' he said as his eyes closed slightly, 'no one.'

'Ah!' Ellington said, with a sigh, 'that is where you are wrong.' There was a protracted silence where both men just continued to stare at each other. The atmosphere, in the library, was thick with tension, as neither of the two men wanted to be the first to look away. The lengthy silence was eventually broken by Ellington, who stood up and walked over to the fireplace. 'Silverton,' he said, as he leant his shoulder against the mantle, 'we will achieve very little staring at each other like two hungry lions, who are just about to fight over a carcass. Let us discuss our little problem, man to man, and come to an amicable arrangement that will satisfy the honour of both parties. After all, when all is said and done, we are gentlemen.'

Damien continued to stand, looking at Ellington with disdain. He was finding it difficult to fight the exhaustion he was feeling after the long day travelling in a carriage to Abbotgate. 'There is nothing to discuss, Ellington,' Damien said, with authority, 'if she wishes to go with me, then there is nothing you can do to stop her.'

Ellington shook his head and smiled. 'My dear Silverton,' he said smoothly, and with a touch of condescension in his voice, 'I do not know how you think that you, of all people, are in a position to "take" anyone. You should look at yourself; you're so weak that you are barely able to stand.' Ellington walked over to Damien so that he was only feet away from him. 'I have it on good authority, that only last year, you suffered a life-threatening injury at Waterloo. One that I may add has taken many months for you to recover. Then, only three weeks ago, you had an almost fatal accident outside the residence of Sir Henry Cavendish, that resulted in you losing a good proportion of, if not all, your immediate memory. Do you not see how impossible it is for you to threaten me? I may not be in my physical prime, but I am stronger than you.' Ellington stopped and looked at him, his eyes narrowing. 'And then,' he said shaking his head, 'there is your "faithful" servant, Appleby. The man betrayed you. Tonight, he made his choice, and I'm afraid, old chap, he chose me over you.'

Damien just continued to look at him without betraying any of the anger he felt bubbling under the surface. He knew that there was no point arguing; Ellington was right. What could he do to stop him? He was, after all, still weak from the injuries he sustained just three weeks ago.

'It was you' Ellington eventually said, after another lengthy silence, 'who took her away from me.'

Damien nodded. 'Yes, it was me,' he said, nodding very slightly, 'I took her from that dungeon you had her in. When I found her, she was nearly dead.'

'Silverton,' Ellington said, with a flourish, 'please believe me when I tell you I would have never let her die. She was far too valuable to me, for that particular fate. I was just teaching her a lesson about loyalty, that is all. One, I am afraid thanks to you, I will have to teach her again in the not too distant future.'

Damien did not answer him, he stood silently biding his time, waiting for the moment to arise when he could retaliate.

'I would have thought that you would have been pleased,' Ellington said offhandedly, 'I am presenting you with a very tidy solution to your little problem.'

'And, please tell me,' Damien said coldly, 'what little problem would that be?'

'The whore, of course,' he said carelessly, 'for that is what she is, and what she will always be.' Ellington moved a little closer towards Damien, and said, 'can you not see, now you are the Earl of Silverton, any connection with her would damage your social standing.'

'Damn my social standing,' Damien said furiously, letting his cool demeanour slip, 'and damn you.'

Ellington laughed. 'Do not tell me that you love her. The quicker you get that notion out of your head, the better it will be for you. You cannot marry her. No one, in their right mind, would take you seriously. You would soon become a social outcast; a pariah.'

'You do not have the right to call me a social outcast. It is you; you are the one who is the outcast. You are the one who twists and subjugates human emotions for your own entertainment and gain. It was you, who took a sheltered young girl's innocent notions of love and destroyed them. You manipulated her emotionally and physically so that she became dependent on you for everything. You made her so reliant on you that she did everything you asked of her, however, debase and licentious it happened to be. And, if she ever stood up to your tyranny, you beat her and humiliated her publicly.' Damien stopped and looked at Ellington, who stood in front of him completely emotionless. 'But, however much you tried, you could not break her spirit. I think you will find that she is no longer dependent on you. You will find that she is now her own person and can make her own choices about where she will go; and, more importantly, with who she will go with.'

Damien smiled as he saw the light of anger flash in Ellington's eyes. He had, from the moment he had entered the library, wanted to destroy Ellington and everything he stood for. When he had first seen him, sitting by the fire in his house, drinking his whisky, he had wanted to stride over to him, hit him and hopefully destroy that seemingly permanent grin that man always had on his face. But Damien knew that he was not strong enough to beat Ellington in a fight. He had known that he would have to wait until he had provoked him to anger. Damien also knew that Ellington, as an ex-cavalry officer, was unlikely to let his guard down. Making him angry might be his only chance of getting the upper hand over his stronger opponent. So, he had scratched away at the surface of Ellington's cool veneer, with provoking words. He had deliberately injured his pride by telling him that Cassie was no longer dependent on him. 'You've seen it, have you not?' Damien added, with a mocking smile.

'Seen what, Silverton?' Ellington replied through gritted teeth.

'That she no longer fears you,' Damien said coolly.

Damien saw the anger flash, once more, in Ellington's eyes. He knew that this could possibly be the only opportunity he may have to overpower him, and he had to take it. He pushed forward the leather chair that he was standing next to, hard into Ellington as he came close. Ellington dodged out of the way, only to be confronted by Damien, who then hit him hard on the left side of his face with a clenched fist. 'I'm not so injured that I cannot beat you to a pulp,' Damien said, through gritted teeth.

'If this is what you really want, Silverton,' Ellington said, as he touched the blood that was trickling from the cut he had just sustained under his left eye. 'Let us, at least, remove our jackets and fight like gentlemen. I find it very difficult to fight constrained by it.'

'No,' Damien said, as he hit Ellington again, 'you are no gentleman. We fight as we are.'

'Silverton,' Ellington said, shaking his head, 'that was a mistake. You must know, that I will kill you.'

Damien just shook his head and squared up to Ellington. The time for talking was now at an end, and all he wanted to do was incapacitate him and find Cassie. Both men started to fight. They traded blows, neither of them getting the upper hand.

Then suddenly, the door of the library flew open. Damien glanced over at the door and saw Cassie holding a pistol in her right hand. 'Cassie,' he said, almost inaudibly, 'Cassie, my love.'

He then felt Ellington's fist connect with his jaw, and he fell heavily onto the floor.