'Hello, Damien,' Cassie said, as she ran over to greet him, 'it's very late, and you must be tired.'
Damien held her in his arms and kissed her lightly on the cheek. 'I can't stay long,' he said regretfully.
'But, you need to rest,' she replied, as she touched his cheek, 'you look tired.'
Damien smiled. 'And you,' he said, pinching her nose, 'are covered in flour. What have you been doing?'
'Betsy's been teaching me how to make bread,' she said, with a mischievous smile, 'but I seem to have more flour on myself and the floor, than anywhere else.'
'Where's Joe?' he asked her, as he held her a little closer.
'He's with Betsy, helping her put the children to bed,' she said, in a whisper, leaning her head against his chest.
'Oh, Cassie,' he said tenderly, 'I don't want to leave you.'
It had been two weeks since he had first met Cassie, and they had been the happiest of his life. He had enjoyed watching her get a little better each day. Her cheeks that had been deadly pale were starting to get a rosy glow; and the dark smudges, under her eyes, were beginning to fade.
He always looked forward to the time they spent together alone. In the evening, they would talk, and at night, he would sleep with her in his arms. He knew that she would not have stopped him deepening the intimacy of their relationship, but he knew that she was still recovering, both physically and emotionally, from her treatment at the hands of Ellington. He felt a deep sense of responsibility for her, and he did not want to take advantage of her fragile state of mind.
Damien had also come to realise that he did not desire a brief affair with her, that would be over before it began. He wanted something that he had never wanted before; to settle down and spend every day, of the rest of his life, with her.
'Has it begun?' Damien heard Joe shout across the kitchen.
Damien, who was still holding Cassie, took a deep breath and let her go. 'Yes, Joe, we need to get ready.'
'Right you are, sir, I'll be ready in a jiffy,' he said, as he strode out of the kitchen.
'Come and help me get ready,' he said to Cassie, 'I want to talk to you before I go.'
Damien took her hand, and they walked towards the bedchamber.
'Would you like me to get you some hot water for a shave?' Cassie asked as Damien removed his jacket and shirt.
'No, thank you,' he said politely, as he tossed his shirt onto the chair and proceeded to remove his boots. 'I don't have time. I'll just have a quick wash using the cold water from the pitcher.'
Damien poured the cold water into a large porcelain bowl and began to wash his upper body. When he had finished, Cassie gave him a clean towel. 'Thank you,' he said, with a smile, as he took it from her and dried himself.
'Betsy's been on edge all day,' Cassie said, as she watched him put on his clean shirt, 'she's so worried about Joe.'
'I was surprised she agreed to marry him,' Damien said, as he sat on the bed and put on a new pair of breeches, 'she's been refusing him for years.'
'Did you know,' Cassie said with a smile, 'that their wedding was the first I've been to. It was so romantic.'
Damien looked up at her and smiled, 'but, I hope it won't be your last.'
'I've cleaned your boots,' Cassie said, changing the subject, 'but I'm afraid I did not make a very good job of them.'
'I'm just grateful, I didn't have to do them myself,' he said, with a smile. 'Sit down, Cass,' he said, after he had put his boots on, 'I need to talk to you.'
It was the conversation that he had been dreading all day. Usually, before a battle, he was excited. But today, it was different. He felt a deep sense of apprehension about the coming conflict. It wasn't just that he thought the men under his command were unprepared, or that the officers that gave him orders were fools; no there was something else. He looked at Cassie, who had sat next to him on the bed and he took her hand in his and held it. She, in turn, leant her head against his shoulder and put her other hand on his arm.
Damien turned his head and tenderly kissed the top of her head. This was the reason he did not want to go. It was not that he feared death. He had looked at death in the eye many times before and had always come away unscathed. No, this was different; what he feared, was a lost lifetime. All the important milestones in one's life, which he could have shared with her, might never come to pass, and that thought saddened him deeply.
'Cass,' he said in a whisper, 'if I don't come back. I want you to do something for me.'
Her head that had been resting on his shoulder shot up, and she looked at him in horror. 'What do you mean? Of course, you will come back,' she said desperately, 'you have to.'
Damien slowly shook his head and then rested his forehead on hers. 'There's no guarantee that I will,' he said, his voice full of sorrow. 'There is a pouch of sovereigns in my trunk. I'm afraid it's not much, but I want you to have them. I also want you to go to your sister. She is staying with Lord and Lady Harrington. Whatever happens, you will be safe with them. I have written their address down on a piece of paper and put it on the mantelpiece.' He stopped and took both her hands in his. 'And, if anything happens to Joe, please, look after Betsy. It's hard for a woman to survive in this place without protection. Promise me, Cass.'
She looked at him and nodded her head slowly. He could see a few tears escaping down her cheeks, and, for the first time since his parents had died, when he was still a child, he was fighting the urge to cry as well. He felt her touch his cheek tenderly, with her fingertips and then she reached up and touched his lips with hers. It was so gentle, just a graze, but it was full of emotion. Her hand, which had been resting on his cheek, slipped around the back of his head and she began to bury her fingers in his hair. Damien responded to her, by parting his lips and letting her deepen the kiss. He savoured each moment and tried not to think that this could be their last time together.
She moved away from him slowly and smiled. 'You must come back to me,' she said, her eyes bright with tears, 'promise me.'
He smiled at her and touched her cheek, but he did not answer. How could he promise to return when war was so unpredictable? Instead of speaking, he stood up and walked slowly towards the mantelpiece. He smiled as he picked up the enamel miniature of Cassie, the one that Colonel Mitford had given him. As he fingered the delicate gilt frame, he said to her, 'Cass, may I take this with me.'
She stood next to him and put her arm through his and smiled. 'Of course,' she said, as she looked at the miniature, 'I'm afraid it isn't a good likeness. My sister commissioned it from a young local artist in Bristol for my sixteenth birthday.'
'I think she's beautiful,' he said, as he touched the enamel likeness. Then he turned around and looked at her, 'but not as beautiful as the real thing.'
Cassie laughed gently and then sighed, 'I'll go and get your jacket.'
He watched her as she took down his red jacket, that had been hanging on the back of the door, and brought it over to him. Once she had helped him put the jacket on, she stood in front of him and fastened the elaborate bronze buttons. She then watched him fasten his belt and put his black shako on his head.
Once he was dressed and ready to go, she stood in front of him and looked at him critically. She brushed a few pieces of lint from the sleeves of his red jacket and then looked at him. 'There,' she said, her eyes still moist with tears, 'now you are ready.'
'Good-bye, Cass,' he said quietly, as he touched her cheek, 'look after yourself.'
She nodded and said, 'come back to me. Please come back.'
As he left the bedchamber, it all felt so final. He dare not look at her again, as he did not want his last memory of her to be full of sadness.
'Come, Joe,' he said as he entered the kitchen, 'they can't start without us, can they?'
✽✽✽
Later that night, Cassie lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. It was not the noise of the soldiers outside, that had kept her awake, it was the thought that she might never see Damien again. Last night, after she had gone to bed, she could not bring herself to extinguish the candle next to her. There was something soothing about its orange glow, and tonight, more than ever, she needed all the comfort she could find. As she lay on the bed, she held tightly onto Damien's pillow, closed her eyes and deeply inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne, and began to wonder whether she would ever see him again.
Her heart was now in turmoil, and she thought to herself; was this love? She had once thought, due to the strength of her feelings, that she had been in love with Major Ellington. But, over time, she had come to realise that the yearning she felt for him, was not love, but a deep physical longing to be close to him. Once he had established his power over her, he had cold-heartedly manipulated her and had used the intimate desire she felt for him, to dominate her heart and soul. He had encouraged her to give up everything that was dear to her; her job, dignity and, most importantly, her relationship with her sister.
It was just before dawn when the night was at its darkest when she once more remembered how tender and gentle Damien had been when they had kissed. Damien, unlike Major Ellington, had not tried to control her, by using the intensity of the moment to manipulate her. He had made her feel something, that no other man had ever done: he had made her feel like she was his equal.
As she was continuing to search her heart, and ask the question whether or not she could trust him, there was a quiet knock on the door.
'Come in,' Cassie said, as she sat up in bed.
The door slowly opened, and Betsy walked into the room, carrying two mugs. 'I hope you don't mind, dearie,' she said, with a smile, 'but I saw a light under your door and thought you'd be awake.' She walked into the bedchamber, and, using her foot, she unceremoniously shut the door. 'It's difficult to sleep when they go to war and leave us behind,' Betsy said, as she walked over to Cassie. When she arrived by the bed, she handed one of the mugs to Cassie, and said, 'here you go, dearie, drink some warm milk, it will help you sleep.'
'Thank you, Betsy,' Cassie said, as she took the mug from her and wrapped her fingers around the outside, taking comfort from the warmth it radiated. 'How do you cope with Joe leaving you like this?' she asked, as she stared at the contents of the mug.
'I don't,' she replied, with a sigh, 'it breaks my heart every time my Joe leaves. But, I must show a brave face, even if it's just for the kiddies.'
They sat in companionable silence, sipping the warm milk when Betsy spoke. 'You love him, don't you, dearie,' she said, looking thoughtfully at Cassie.
'I honestly don't know,' Cassie replied, after another long silence, 'I don't think I know what love is anymore. Anyway, I have learnt, from bitter experience, that one cannot trust one's feelings about such matters.'
'You've been hurt badly, haven't you, dearie,' she said softly, '"that man," has a lot to answer for.'
Cassie nodded. Betsy always referred to Major Ellington as "that man." She had told Cassie, that after everything he had done to both her and Susie, he did not deserve to be called by his name.
'When I was fifteen years old, long before I met Joe, I worked as a chambermaid for a well-to-do family, on a large estate, very close to the village where I grew up.' Betsy looked over to Cassie, and smiled, 'I know it's hard to believe, looking at me now, but I was a pretty little thing back then.'
Betsy sighed and then continued. 'The family had a son, who was about the same age as me. Fortunately, most of the time, he was away at school, but when he did come home for the holidays, he never left me alone. I don't need to tell you what he did, do I dearie, all I need to tell you is that I felt wretched and ashamed of myself. The other servants, who should have protected me, knew what he was doing, but not one of them was willing to help me. They just told me I had no one to blame but myself.'
'I was so miserable,' she said sadly, 'I would have done anything to leave that place.'
'Then, after a year, just after I'd turned sixteen, there was a large house-party that lasted several weeks. The butler and housekeeper had to hire extra servants from an agency in London. That's when I first met Jem. He was employed as a temporary footman. He was tall, handsome and very charming, and when he smiled at me, I felt weak at the knees.'
'Jem hated being a footman. The job didn't suit him at all.' Betsy turned and looked at Cassie, 'he would often tell me about how he was planning to run away and join the army. He always made it sound so exciting and romantic, and it did not take much to convince me to run away with him. In fact, I foolishly begged him to take me with him.'
'I was barely sixteen when I married Jem. Far too young and impressionable to follow a man, I hardly knew, across the world. The long voyage to India lasted several months, and it almost killed me,' she said quietly. 'I was very sick, but that was not all. I soon learnt that living with Jem, was like living with a tyrant. He treated me no better than a slave. I often thought, during the years I was married to him, that I would have been better off staying at home and taking my chances with the young master. At least he didn't break my bones, or publicly humiliate me, whenever I did something to displease him.'
'After three long years of living under his tyranny, I met Joe.' Betsy smiled as she remembered her first encounter with Joe, and a few tears welled up in her eyes. 'He was unlike any other man I had ever met. He was funny and kind.' She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her apron and continued, 'when Jem died of fever, it was Joe who looked after me. I didn't realise, until you came here, how much I love him.' Betsy reached up and touched her affectionately on her cheek. 'You reminded me of my younger self,' she said, smiling at her, even though her eyes were still bright with tears.
Betsy sighed and then said, after a long silence, 'what I'm trying to tell you, dearie, in my roundabout way, is that you shouldn't let what happened in your past, determine your future. "That man,"' she said, through gritted teeth, 'the one who cruelly took away your innocence. He took the love you had for him, and used it against you.' Betsy shook her head sadly, and said, 'not all men are like that, dearie. My Joe's certainly not. But, over the years, I continued to refuse to marry him. I let my fear of the past influence me. Don't make the same mistake as me,' Betsy said sadly, 'it will only make you both miserable.'
'But, how do I know if I can trust him with my heart?' Cassie said, looking at Betsy, her eyes wide. 'I thought I could trust Major Ellington, but...'
Betsy stood up and then sat on the bed next to Cassie, and put her arm around her shoulder. 'I have known the Captain for eight years, and he has always looked after both me and Joe. He doesn't have to, after all, Joe's only a Sergeant, and I'm... Well, he's always done what's best for us and the kiddies.'
Cassie said nothing; she just leant against Betsy's shoulder.
'I saw the way you looked at the Captain as he left this evening, and I also saw the way he looked at you. You love him, as much as he loves you.' Betsy gently stroked Cassie's hair and then said quietly, 'search your heart, dearie, and don't let what happened in the past ruin your future.'
Betsy then kissed Cassie on the forehead. 'Now, dearie,' she said softly, 'you must get some rest. The next few days will be very busy, and I will need your help.' Betsy then stood up and walked towards the door, carrying the two empty mugs. 'Good-night, dearie,' she said quietly, as she turned the handle of the door, 'and think about what I have told you.'
'Good-night, Betsy,' Cassie said, as she lay back down on the bed, 'and thank-you for the milk and advice.'