October 1813
Cassandra Stanford, or Cassie as she was known to her close friends and family, was, at the grand age of seventeen, in love. The object of her affection was the handsome Major Ellington, who had appeared, like all good heroes from a romantic novel, on the doorstep of her family residence after a carriage accident. He was everything she had dreamt a man should be; tall, dark and incredibly handsome. He walked with a slight limp, but in her eyes, that did not matter. He was, after all, a war hero, who had sustained his injury on the battlefields of Spain.
He had arrived on the doorstep of Hadlands, her family home on a stormy night, along with his companion Major Mitford, looking every inch the storybook hero. There was a trickle of blood running down his cheek from a deep gash above his left eye. Cassie thought that this made him look, if it were possible, even more heroically handsome. She could not help but look at him with a look of admiration in her eyes.
After the two strangers had been shown into the hallway, her sister, Verity, had instructed Cassie to tend to Major Ellington's injury. 'Follow me,' she had said to him as they walked towards the drawing-room, with only the flickering light of one candle to guide their way.
As Cassie walked towards the drawing-room, with Major Ellington following close behind her, she felt a little nervous. Apart from her brother and father, she had never been alone with a strange gentleman. But her nervousness was also touched with a frisson of excitement. She had always led such a dull life; firstly, as a pupil at the Bristol Academy; and then more recently as a teacher, that she longed for a thrilling adventure. And it would not be long until she was leaving her old life behind her and travelling up to Scotland to start a new position as a governess for a young family in the Highlands.
As Cassie reached out her hand, so that she could turn the handle of the drawing-room door, she realised that Major Ellington was standing directly behind her and had also reached for the handle of the door. 'Please, let me open that for you,' he said, in a deep low voice. Cassie felt a quiver go up her arm and into the core of her body as his fingers slowly brushed against hers. As their hands remained on the door handle, Cassie turned her head and looked into his eyes that were the deepest shade of brown she had ever seen. As she continued to stare at him, she could feel her heart beat a rhythmic tattoo inside her chest as he continued to slowly caress her fingers.
'That will not be necessary,' she had managed to say breathlessly.
'But, I insist,' he said smoothly, still looking into her eyes.
She slowly removed her hand and let him open the door. He stood in the doorway, and she felt a little nervous when she realised that she would have to brush past him in order to enter the drawing-room. When they touched, as she walked through the doorway, she once more felt that frisson of excitement ripple through her. 'Please make yourself comfortable,' she had managed to say, once they were inside and she, at last, had regained some of her composure.
He walked over to the fire and held out his hands towards the flames. 'Thank you, Miss Stanford,' he said as he warmed his hands.
'Please, Major Ellington, call me Miss Cassandra, or even Cassie or Cass,' she said nervously. 'Miss Stanford is my sister's name, and I always feel a little strange when people use it when addressing me.'
'I will call you Cass,' he said with a smile as he walked over to her, 'but only if you will address me by my given name; Stephan, in private, of course.
Cassie nodded and smiled. 'My sister would find it shocking if she heard me call you Stephan, and would no doubt give me a scold.'
Major Ellington laughed. 'I am sure she would,' he said as he touched the cut on his forehead with his fingers. 'Do you have a fresh handkerchief?' he then said, 'so that I can clean my cut.'
Cassie was aware that she was staring at him. 'Of course,' she then said, 'I have been quite rude. I will go and fetch some clean water and bandages immediately.'
It took Cassie ten minutes to run down to the kitchen and fetch a bowl of clean, warm water. When she returned to the drawing-room, holding a large porcelain bowl, she nearly dropped it on the floor. Major Ellington had removed most of his clothing, including his jacket and cravat. He was standing by the fire wearing only his shirt and breeches. And his shirt was undone at the front, and Cassie could see the well-defined contours of his broad muscular chest.
'I hope you do not mind me removing my wet things,' he said smiling at her roguishly, 'but I do not wish to destroy your carpet by dripping water all over it.'
Cassie took a deep breath and composed herself. At the grand age of seventeen, she could no longer afford to be a shy, silly schoolgirl, ready to giggle at just the sight of a handsome man. No, she was now a mature woman, and she needed to act like one. She walked over to the fire, hoping that she displayed more confidence than she felt.
'Of course not,' she had said nonchalantly, 'I would not want you to catch your death.'
As she approached him, still carrying the large bowl of water, Major Ellington said, 'Miss Cassandra, Cass, please let me take that from you.'
As he took the bowl from her hands, he deliberately brushed his fingers against hers. Another shiver went through her as they touched, and she gave an involuntary gasp. Major Ellington smiled at her and put the bowl on a side table, next to the love seat. He then sat down and then proceeded to dab awkwardly at the wound.
'Please let me do that,' Cassie said, as she took the cloth from him. He slowly let go of it, and Cassie proceeded to carefully clean the wound by dabbing at it with a damp cloth.
'Sit next to me, Cass,' he said smiling up at her, 'you will find it easier to dress the wound if you are a little closer to me.' Cassie awkwardly obeyed his command and sat next to him on the love seat trying not to let any part of her body touch his.
Once she had dressed the wound, Cassie was about to stand. 'No, Cass,' he said in a whisper as he placed his hand on her thigh, 'stay.' He then slipped his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. Cassie did not resist the invitation, he had unmistakably given her, and leant her head against his chest. As she lay there quietly, listening to the gentle beat of his heart, he started to fondle the nape of her neck with his thumb, and then he began to circle a pattern around the top of her collarbone with his fingertips. As she lay still against him, she did not raise any objections to his touch, she just savoured the pleasurable sensations that were beginning to ripple through her.
He lifted her head with his fingers so that she was looking at him. Cassie knew that she was an innocent, and knew very little about what happened between a man and a woman, but at that moment, she understood the passionate expression in his eyes: he was going to kiss her. She should stop this, but she had always wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed, and there was a handsome gentleman ready to oblige her desire. He bent his head and placed his lips on hers. All reasonable thought left Cassie, as she responded to his kiss, and she did not object when he gently pulled her onto his lap, and expertly undid the bodice of her dress and slid it from her shoulders. The voice of conscience, at the back of her mind, became quieter, until, at last, it had been vanquished altogether by the sensual emotions he had evoked within her.
'Cass,' he said huskily in her ear, 'do you believe in love at first sight?'
Cassie could feel the tension in the air. 'Yes, yes, I do,' she replied breathlessly. 'Do you, Major Ellington?' she said, looking into his deep brown eyes, 'believe in love at first sight?'
'Stephan, my dear, you must call me Stephan,' he said quietly as he touched her cheek gently with his fingers.
'Stephan,' she said in barely a whisper as she looked at him.
It was not until now that Cassie noticed the scars across his chest. 'Oh,' she said, as she looked down at his exposed chest, 'I hope I did not hurt you.'
He laughed, as she looked at his scars with concern in her eyes. 'Those old things,' he said flippantly, 'no, they do not hurt.'
She traced one of the scars gently with her fingertips. 'How did you get them?'
'War wounds,' he said, leaning back as she caressed them, 'in battle, fighting the French.'
'You must be incredibly brave,' she said with conviction.
'It was my duty,' he said as he reached over and tucked an errant lock of her hair that had freed itself from her chignon. 'Anyone in my regiment would have done the same.'
'You look tired,' she then said as she touched his cheek with her fingers, 'I should go and help my sister, and leave you alone to rest.'
'No, Cass, please stay,' he said earnestly, 'ever since I have returned to England, after my injury, I have not slept well.'
'Is it because your injuries are painful?' she asked him curiously.
'They give me a little trouble, but they are not the reason why I cannot sleep.'
'Then, what keeps you awake at night?' she asked, being drawn into his story.
'I have dreams, terrible dreams,' he replied in a whisper, looking at her intently.
'About the war?' she asked, resting her head back on his shoulder.
He nodded. 'They always feel so real,' he said leaning his head against hers, 'but, when you are in my arms, those bad memories just melt away. I would sleep well if you were next to me.'
Cassie continued to trace the shape of one of his scars with her fingertips. 'Would I really,' she said quietly looking up at him, 'help you sleep?'
'Holding you in my arms would banish even the darkest nightmares,' he said as he looked into her eyes.
The tension was broken by a loud crackle from the fire, as a log fell into the grate releasing orange sparks as it fell. 'I could come to you, tonight when everyone is asleep,' she said in a whisper. This was the first time in her life that someone had needed her. Verity, her older sister, and Reggie, her younger brother, had never asked for her help. Even after their father's death, when they had all met up again at Hadlands for the funeral, neither of them had confided their troubles to her. And her bleak future as a governess to a family in Scotland stretched out endlessly in front of her.
She always had felt so useless and alone; but not now. He needed to hold her in his arms to give him some peace, and she needed him for that intimate connection that only close physical contact can provide. She wanted to annihilate the loneliness and hopelessness that, over the past weeks since her seventeenth birthday, had begun to gnaw away at her. What was so wrong with snatching a little happiness now, before it was too late?
He put his forehead on hers. 'I could not ask you to do that, my dear Cass. What if your sister found out? You would be ruined.'
'Verity!' Cassie exclaimed, 'she sleeps like the dead.' She put her arms around his neck and then she began to run her fingers through his thick deep brown hair. 'Once she is asleep, nothing will wake her.'
'But, would you not be deceiving her?' he asked. 'I always thought that sisters never had any secrets between them.'
Cassie laughed gently. 'We are not that close,' she said, 'and she never tells me anything important. You see, to her, I am still a child, and I suppose I will always be one in her eyes. Anyway, do you think that my sister would approve of me now? I am sitting on a gentleman's lap in a state of dishabille.'
Major Ellington smiled at her and said, 'I do believe she would call me out.'
'Very possibly,' Cassie replied as she buried her head in the crook of his neck, 'she is somewhat of a stickler regarding one's own reputation.'
'And you would risk her disapproval, for me?' he said gently brushing the loose strand of her hair behind her ear once more.
'Yes, yes, I would,' she replied emphatically.
'Why?' Major Ellington said, 'why would you do that for me?'
She looked at him and ran her fingertips along the length of one of his scars. 'I want to help you,' she replied in a whisper, 'to subjugate those painful memories,'
'Do you love me, Cass?' he asked as he bent down and kissed the nape of her neck until her breathing became ragged.
She tipped her head back. 'Yes, yes,' she said in a fierce whisper, 'I think I do.'
'Cass,' he said huskily, as he began to trace the line of her collarbone with his lips, 'I must not take advantage of your generous nature. I ...'
Cassie silenced him by taking his chin in her fingers and putting her finger to his lips. 'You are not taking advantage of me,' she said sincerely, 'I want to be with you: I want to help you.'
'But, Cass,' he said as he continued to kiss her neck, 'you are so young.'
'I am seventeen, and I am my own woman,' she said, defiance now creeping into her voice, 'and, I can make my own decisions about my own future.'
He continued to kiss her exposed neck and shoulders, and then he said, almost to himself, 'tonight, my dear, I will make you the woman you so want to become.'
Then, to her intense disappointment, he abruptly stopped kissing her. 'We do not want your sister catching us like this, do we?' he said as he lifted her off her lap. 'Be a good girl and make yourself a little more presentable,' he added with a cold edge to his voice.
She nodded and pulled up the bodice of her dress. Her fingers shook uncontrollably as she nervously fastened the ribbon at the bodice. There had been a coldness in his voice that she had not detected before, and the sensual pleasure, she had experienced just moments before, had now been replaced by a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. 'Have I disappointed you?' she asked looking at him, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.
'No, it is just...' he stood up and took her roughly by the shoulders. 'As long as you promise to come and see me later,' he said as a command; not as a request.
His change in demeanour had taken her by surprise, but she could not say no to him. 'I promise,' she said looking at him, 'I will come.'
'Good girl,' he said releasing her shoulders and speaking in a gentler voice. 'I shall look forward to seeing you again.'
Cassie had just sat back down after she had finished rearranging her skirts and fastening her hair back into its neat chignon when her sister entered the room. As the door opened, Major Ellington's arm was still draped around Cassie's shoulder, and she was leaning against his chest. She quickly moved away from him when she heard the handle of the door open. 'Good evening, Major Ellington,' Verity had said politely. Cassie relaxed. She could not hear any sign of disapproval in her sister's voice. 'I hope Cassie has been looking after you,' Verity said as she brought in a tray of food and set it on a table.
Major Ellington, who had put his jacket back on, stood up. 'Miss Stanford, your sister has been most hospitable,' he replied smiling at Verity, 'she has made me feel very welcome.'
Cassie could feel a warmth in her cheeks, and she hoped that their heightened colour did not alert Verity to any misconduct on her part. She thought to herself that she should feel guilty conducting herself, in what Verity would have no doubt called, a wanton fashion, but she could not. As she glanced at Major Ellington, she remembered how he had made her feel. She found it difficult to describe to herself exactly how she now felt about him. It was not just the physical response to his touch, there was something else. She felt a closeness to him that she had never experienced with another human being; not even her sister. It was as though her soul was now somehow entwined with his; and for her, there was now no going back.