Over the next few weeks, there were times when Cassie thought she had lost Damien. The fever, which the surgeon had predicted would immediately follow the surgery, was particularly ferocious and lasted many days. Once the fever had finally broken, Damien, who was still in a weakened state, continued to drift in and out of consciousness. During this time, Cassie remained by his bedside, tending to his every need.
It had been a sad day for Cassie when Betsy finally left Brussels with Joe and the rest of the regiment. 'I will miss you, dearie,' Betsy had said to her with tears in her eyes, just as she was leaving, 'make sure you look after yourself and the Captain.'
'Thank you, Betsy,' Cassie had replied. 'I don't know what I'm going to do without you,' she said as Betsy gave her a hug.
'You're stronger than you think, dearie,' Betsy had replied, cupping her cheek and smiling at her, 'and don't let anyone ever tell you any different. And, remember what I said, you mustn't let what happened to you in that place determine your future.'
Cassie smiled. 'Thank you,' she had said affectionately, as she suppressed the tears she wanted to shed, 'I'm going to miss your friendship and your sage advice.' Cassie took a step back from Betsy and said, 'do you know where you are going?'
'No, dearie, not yet,' Betsy had said with a sigh. 'But, it doesn't matter to me where we go, just as long as I'm with my Joe and the kiddies. And now I've got Susie to keep me company.'
Once the allied armies had moved out of the city, Brussels became a much quieter place. The British aristocracy, who only last year had come to the continent in their droves, were now leaving for home. In their absence, the city, and its residents were starting to return to a semblance of normality.
It took nearly a month for Damien to fully regain consciousness, and even then, throughout the summer, he still occasionally relapsed into a fever. The bones in his left shoulder had been badly broken by the musket ball, and the army surgeon had doubted whether he would ever be able to regain any use of it. However, the local doctor, who had been taking care of him since the army surgeon had left, was far more optimistic about his injuries. He had said that with plenty of rest and gentle exercise, he could, over time, regain most of its movement.
At the end of August, just over two months after the battle, Damien had regained enough strength for them to move out of the barracks. With the help of some locals, they had befriended, they found a couple of rooms in a quiet and unfashionable part of the city. In their new lodgings, much to Cassie's relief, they received very few visitors. She filled her day with household chores and spent the evening with Damien, either reading out loud or discussing the events of that day. Cassie did not feel happy, that was an emotion she gave up when she met Ellington; but when she was alone with Damien, she was beginning to feel peace gradually settle deep within her soul. But when she was alone, during the early hours of the morning, she would often have vivid dreams about returning to a place where she would be under Ellington's control. As the months wore on, the dreams became infrequent, and her fear of discovery gradually began to subside. She even dared to think that sometime, in the not so distant future, she would be able to put the past behind her and begin to live her life again.
As the leaves of the trees turned beautiful shades of red, yellow and brown, Damien continued to get physically stronger. The young local doctor, who was becoming a regular visitor in the evenings, had encouraged Damien to go out every day. The doctor had told him that if he wanted to regain the strength in his body, he needed to go outside and get plenty of fresh air and gentle exercise. At first, Damien was still weak, and could not venture far from their lodgings. But, as the months wore on, and Autumn gave way to Winter, he became stronger.
During those quiet months, they had spent alone in each other's company in Brussels, neither one of them mentioned the kiss that they had shared on the night that Damien had gone to battle. On many an occasion, when Cassie had wanted him to hold her in his arms, she had thought the reason why he had kept his distance, was that he had deeply regretted their moment of intimacy. After all, society viewed her as nothing more than a fallen woman, why would he be any different? But, for Damien, that was far from the truth. He had, many times, wanted to take her in his arms, just like he had done on the night when she had kissed him, but something always held him back. He was not the only one who needed to restore himself to the person he had once been. After everything Cassie had been through when Ellington had imprisoned her, Damien knew that she also needed time to heal. Her wounds were not just physical, they also ran deep into her soul.
What she had suffered physically, under Ellington's so-called protection, had been horrific. Damien only had to look at the scars on her back, to know that she had been savagely treated. However, the abuse she had suffered at his hands, had not just been on her body. He had also taken her soul, the very part of her that made-up her personality, and had almost destroyed it. He had twisted her joyful and youthful innocence of the world and had used it until she had become no better than his slave. She never talked to Damien about what had happened to her during those two and a half years. But, he knew, from the sad expression in her eyes and the throwaway derogatory comments she continually made about herself, that she held herself, not Ellington, responsible for what had happened. He had come to a decision that he must, at least until she had come to terms with what had happened, keep their relationship purely platonic.
He also did this because he wanted something so much more than just a fleeting love affair: a liaison that would be over as soon as it had begun. He did not want her to follow him back to England because she felt beholden to him, and he certainly did not want to take advantage of her to satisfy his own needs and desires. Instead, he wanted her, when she was good and ready, to come to him as his equal.
At the end of February, when the early spring flowers were starting to bloom, Damien sensed a change in Cassie. As the winter had progressed, she had become mellow and less quick to judge herself. And, he was starting to believe that she was, at last, beginning to heal.
Over the past few months, he had regularly talked to Cassie about the possibility of returning home to his small estate on the Kent coast, that he had inherited from his mother's uncle. It was time to return to England and start a new chapter in his life, and he wanted Cassie to be by his side.
'Cass,' he had said to her as they walked through the park together on a beautiful sunny spring morning, arm in arm. 'I would like you to come back to England with me, to Abbotgate House.' There had been silence as they continued to walk through the park, and he did not know at this point if she would even come with him, but he did not want to leave her behind. 'I'm not sure what we'll find when we arrive. I haven't been there since I was a child, and the estate wasn't up to much back then. My great-uncle was an odd sort of fellow, who shut himself up in the house after his wife had died. It's been derelict ever since I inherited it five years ago, so I'm not promising that it is even habitable. It must be in a bad way, because I tried to sell the house and land just after I inherited it, to purchase my Captaincy, but no one was interested.'
They continued to walk in silence when he said. 'It's in a beautiful part of the country, just on the Kent coast. I would love to show you the tunnels that lead from the beach to the house. As the story goes, my great-great-grandfather used them to smuggle French brandy.'
'Yes, I would like that very much,' she said, as she smiled at him. 'But,' she had said after another short silence, 'are you well enough for the journey? It is a long way, and your arm is still stiff, and I know, even though you try to hide it, that it still hurts.'
'I can't hide anything from you, can I?' he said, as he smiled back at her. 'I am feeling much stronger now,' he said as he held her arm a little tighter, 'and I would like to get back home in the next month. The weather is starting to get a little warmer, and I need to look at the state of the land and work out whether or not I can make a living from it.'
'If you think you are well enough,' Cassie said decisively, 'then we shall go.'
✽✽✽
In less than a month, they were both standing outside Abbotgate House. 'I know it's not much to look at,' Damien said as they began to walk up the overgrown drive to the front of the house, carrying their valises, 'but it's all I have.'
Cassie looked at him and smiled warmly. 'I like it very much,' she said brightly, 'it reminds me of where I grew up.'
The house, from the outside, did indeed look just like Hadlands. All the windows, at the front of the house, had been obscured by thick ivy that covered nearly every inch of the brickwork. 'I hope that there is a part of the house that we can live in,' he said cautiously, 'it looks like the whole thing is just about to fall down at any moment.'
'It looks quite habitable to me,' she said, still smiling at him, 'as long as you do not remove any of that ivy! I do believe that it is holding up the whole building,'
'You're trespassing,' an angry voice shouted from behind. Cassie and Damien both turned around quickly and saw a man, who must have been in his sixties, pointing an old-fashion musket at them. 'Now,' the man shouted again, 'put up your 'ands. Otherwise, I'll kill you both.'
Damien put down the valise he was carrying and motioned for Cassie to do the same. He then put his hands in the air. 'Don't I know you?' Damien said, as he walked confidently towards the older man, 'you're Appleby, aren't you?'
'Stay where you are, with your 'ands up,' Appleby said, growling at Damien and waving the musket. 'How do you know my name?' he then said, 'I don't know you from Adam.'
'Last time I saw you, Appleby, you were teaching me how to ride on that big brute of a horse that my great-uncle thought was suitable for a boy of six!' Damien said with a smile.
'Well I never,' came the reply, 'it's young Master Damien. Me and the misses were wondering if we would see you again after the big battle when you licked those frogs back to where they belong. You should've written, and I would've had some rooms readied for you.'
'Appleby, you don't read! So, what would have been the point of writing to you,' Damien said light-heartedly.
'I'm not saying I would've read the letter. But, I would've guessed that it was important because we never get any letters 'ere,' Appleby said putting the musket down and walking over to Damien. 'It's good to see you again, sir,' he said holding out his hand.
After he had shaken Damien's hand, Appleby looked over at Cassie and said, 'is that your missus?'
Cassie sensed that Damien was a little taken aback by the question, and she knew that he felt somewhat uncomfortable about how he was to introduce her to the old retainer. Cassie also knew, from the silence that ensued, that she had to take control of the situation. 'I am Miss Stanford, Captain Laws' nurse,' she said with a smile, as she took a step towards Appleby, 'he was severely injured at Waterloo, and I have been tending him ever since.'
'Of course, you are, miss,' he said as he winked at Damien and gave him a knowing smile, 'I'll say no more about it. I'll go and tell the missus that you've arrived, with a special guest, and that she'll need to prepare a bedchamber.'
'Two bedchambers,' Damien said firmly.
'Right you are, Captain. Two rooms next to each other, with adjoining doors, so that the young lady's close by, and can nurse you back to 'ealth,' he said with another wink. 'Just leave your luggage on the drive, and I'll come back in a mo and bring it to your rooms.'
As they followed him back to the house, Damien turned to Cassie and said, 'I'm sorry about that. We should have talked about this before we came here.'
Cassie looked at him and smiled. 'Damien,' she said honestly, 'I've gone past caring what other people think of me.'
Cassie had told the truth. She really did not care what the servant thought about her. She had not felt in the least bit embarrassed by the obvious innuendo in his voice. She was just happy that she was with Damien and that she had been able to share the joy that returning to his childhood home had obviously given him.