Damien woke up that morning feeling much better. His head did not ache as much as it had done over the past few weeks, and his mind seemed almost clear of the jumbled thoughts that had been continually plaguing him since the accident. He could still not clearly remember anything that had happened in the last year, but he felt his elusive memories were now within reach.
He was also relieved that Sir Henry Cavendish, and his family, had been asked to leave his London residence. His memories may have been hazy, but he was confident that before his accident he had never met Sir Henry or his quiet and shy daughter. Mr Morton, his family solicitor, had taken one look at Sir Henry and correctly deduced that he was an opportunist, who was only after Damien's fortune.
That morning, his valet had dressed him with the care and attention that was due to his new station in life. After years on the battlefields of Spain, the smart, well-fitting clothes he now wore, were alien to him. He did not know how the brand-new garments had fitted him to perfection, and he could only marvel at his valet's skill and ingenuity. How the stern looking servant had managed to make him look so respectable, in such a short period of time, was nothing short of a miracle.
'There is a young lady to see you, my lord,' the butler announced as Damien was finishing his breakfast.
'Who is she, Saunders?' Damien asked suspiciously. It was unusual for young ladies to go to the house of a gentleman unaccompanied, and even more unusual for them to come so early in the day.
'She would not give me her name, but she said that her business with you is of an urgent and serious nature,' the butler said solemnly, not giving Damien any clues to his opinion of the lady.
Damien was wary about entertaining a lady alone so early in the day and was about to tell Saunders to dismiss her. But his overwhelming curiosity about his visitor and the possibility that her urgent business may be to do with his lost memories stopped him. 'You better show her in,' Damien said deliberately.
'Very good, my lord,' Saunders said as he left the room.
Damien did not have to wait a long time for the efficient Saunders to usher the young lady into the dining-room. When she entered, Damien stood up from his place at the end of a very long table, and looked at her critically, as she stood by the door nervously clasping her gloved hands together. It was hard for Damien to gauge the age of the woman. Her face was covered with a thick dark veil, but there was something familiar about her petite frame and the way she stood.
'Please,' Damien said as he walked over to her, 'let me take your cloak.' She gingerly removed the heavy cloak from around her shoulders and gave it to him, but she still did not speak, nor did she make any effort to remove the veil from her face. 'You do not need to be afraid of me,' Damien said reassuringly, 'everything you tell me will be in the strictest confidence.'
Damien saw that her hands shook as she lifted the veil, but once it had been pulled back to reveal her face, he recognised her immediately. 'Miss Cavendish,' he said, trying not to let the irritation he felt be heard in his voice, 'does your father know that you are here?'
'My lord,' she said apologetically, 'please forgive me for interrupting you so early in the morning, but I must speak with you.'
Damien, noting the urgency in her voice, said, 'please, Miss Cavendish, join me for breakfast.'
'Oh no,' she said emphatically, 'I could not eat a morsel.'
'At least sit-down and have some coffee,' he said as he pulled out a chair from the table next to his. 'You look very pale, and a little coffee will revive you.'
She sat down, and he poured her a little coffee into a cup. She took a sip and looked at him. 'I am sorry to interrupt you at such an early hour, my lord, but I had to speak to you.'
Damien was still sceptical regarding Miss Cavendish's motives for such an early morning call. Only yesterday, he had been forewarned, by Mr Morton, that her father was trying to entrap him into marrying his daughter. However, as he looked at her eyes, that were stained with tears, he felt a twinge of compassion for her. Maybe she was also an unwilling participate in her father's plans. 'Tell me, Miss Cavendish, what is troubling you?' he said, his voice gentle and reassuring.
'Oh!' she said anxiously, 'I do not know where to begin.' She looked down at the coffee cup that Damien had just given her and stirred it several times with a small gold spoon. 'There has been a grave injustice done to you, and it must be put right,' she said, after a long silence. 'My father has wronged you,' she said despairingly, putting the tiny spoon on the saucer and looking at the contents of the cup, 'and, I fear I am too late to stop him.'
'Please, take your time,' Damien said soothingly. He knew, that whatever she had to tell him, was causing her some distress.
'You must know by now that my father tried to trick you into marrying me,' she said quietly, 'I am very sorry I went along with his plans, but I am afraid I was too weak to resist his threats.'
'Please, Miss Cavendish, do not blame yourself. Your father is a determined man, and one who is used to getting his own way. I was very fortunate to have Mr Morton as my solicitor. He soon put a stop to your father's schemes.' Damien tried to sound comforting when he spoke, but what he said only seemed to make the young lady more agitated.
'Oh!' she said, bringing her hands to her cheeks, 'it is not just the marriage. Oh! Where do I begin?' she said almost to herself.
Damien said to her gently, 'I find it is always best to take a deep breath and start at the beginning.'
'Yes,' she said, trying to sound confident, 'I will start there.' She then took a deep breath and began. 'A few days after your accident, outside the gates of Hatton House, my father found out that you were the new Earl of Silverton.' She stopped and looked at her hands that were clasped firmly in her lap. 'My father thought that our marriage would be the perfect solution to his financial problems.'
'I know,' Damien said, smiling at her reassuringly, 'and, I do not hold you responsible for his actions.'
'It is not just that,' she said, with a sigh, 'he has been very deceitful towards you. When you had the accident outside the gates of Hatton House, there was a miniature of a woman in the pocket of your jacket. My father took it from you and did not tell you. I know he was frightened that if you saw it, you would remember your past and would never agree to marry me.'
Damien looked up at her, he had a flicker of a memory suddenly appear at the back of his mind. 'What did the picture look like?' he said fingering the handle of his coffee cup.
'It was a young woman,' Miss Cavendish said, looking down at the table, not daring to look at Damien. 'She had golden hair and the most expressive blue eyes I have ever seen in a miniature. She was beautiful. My father was rather taken by the picture, and he has kept it in his jacket pocket ever since he took it from you. I begged him to show it to you, but he refused.'
'Cassie,' he said as his memory of the woman with golden hair and clear blue eyes, became stronger and more vivid, 'her name is Cassie.'
'You remember her,' Miss Cavendish said as she looked up at him, a smile on her face, 'I knew you would if only you had had an opportunity to see her. Yesterday, after we had been told to leave here by Mr Morton, my father was furious. He went, despite my mother's warnings, to his club. My mother hates it when he drinks too much. They always end up arguing, and my father has an unpleasant temper,' she said as her voice trailed away.
'Early this morning,' she began nervously, looking down once more at her half-filled coffee cup, 'it must have been about two o'clock, I heard my father arrive back. My lord, I know that this in itself is not unusual, as most gentlemen when they are in town, keep unusual hours. But this time it was different,' she spoke almost in a whisper, and Damien had to listen carefully to understand everything that she was saying. 'He brought back a couple of gentlemen to our rooms.'
Miss Cavendish stopped and took a deep breath. 'My lord,' she then said, looking at him directly, 'you must understand that I do not make it a rule to spy on my father, but my bedchamber in the hotel is next to the sitting room. And, I could easily hear everything that was said.'
Miss Cavendish brought the coffee cup nervously to her lips. After taking a few sips of the warm dark liquid, she set it back gently on the saucer. Damien, not wanting to seem impatient, waited until she was ready to continue. 'My father was frightened of them, and believe me,' she said, now finding her confidence and looking at him directly, 'my father is not a man who is easily intimidated.' She stopped, took another sip of coffee and, after replacing the cup back onto the saucer she said, 'I have recently learnt that my father is a reckless man, who loves no one but himself. And, from the conversation I overheard last night, he owes his two visitors a small fortune. During their conversation, they mentioned your name, and that of Mr Morton, many times.'
Miss Cavendish took a deep breath and held her head up high. Even though the young woman was gaining confidence, she was still finding the conversation difficult. 'They were planning to go to Mr Morton's place of business and find an address,' she eventually said.
'Who's address,' Damien said, during another lull in the conversation.
'Yours,' she said, looking at him intently, 'where you lived before the accident.'
'Why would they want to know that?' Damien said puzzled.
'It has something to do with the woman in the miniature that was taken from you,' Miss Cavendish said in a whisper.
'Cassie,' he said anxiously, 'I have left you all alone for too long.' He stood up and strode over to where Miss Cavendish was seated. He squatted down next to her chair and took her hands in his. 'Miss Cavendish,' he said earnestly, 'can you remember the names of your father's visitors? Please think carefully. It is imperative that you remember them, as I believe that the woman, depicted in the miniature, is in grave danger.'
Miss Cavendish took a deep breath and said, looking at him confidently, 'one of them, was called Captain Fallbrook, and the other one was... Ellington,' she said emphatically, 'that was it; Major Ellington.'
'I knew it,' Damien said letting her hands go. He went back to his chair and leant on the back of it. His mind was beginning to clear, and the memories that had been tantalisingly out of reach were now, once more, becoming visible to him. He remembered Cassie and how he had taken her from the club that Ellington had kept her prisoner. He remembered his injury at Waterloo, and how it was Cassie that had nursed him back to health. And, he remembered that he loved her and had asked her to become his wife. He had to go to her now before it was too late.
'Miss Cavendish, if your father owes Ellington money, it will not be safe for you to remain under his protection. Ellington is a very dangerous man and will stop at nothing to get the money back. He has already, no doubt, told your father that he will use you to repay the debt.'
'Me! How?' Miss Cavendish said with her eyes wide open, looking at him.
Damien knew that she had led a very sheltered life, but he also knew that she needed to see the seriousness of the situation she found herself in. 'Cassie,' he said gently, 'had a father who, just like yours, owed Ellington money. When he died, leaving the debt unpaid, Ellington forced her to leave her remaining family and come to work as a courtesan.'
Miss Cavendish took a deep intake of breath. 'That is terrible,' she said her voice quivering.
'He is a cruel man,' Damien said, as he still held her hands in his, 'and I am under no doubt that he would do the same to you.'
You must stay here until I return, and then we can find somewhere safe for you to go, far away from your father's influence.'
'But... I cannot,' she stammered, 'what about my mother, she would be worried about me. And,' she continued to say, still a little flustered, 'there are your servants. What would they say about me staying here?'
'I'm afraid you cannot tell your mother,' he said, 'from what I've seen of her, she will do exactly as your father bids her. And, as for my servants,' he said more gently, 'I have not been the Earl for long, but I do know that my servants will do as they are told; no questions asked.'
Miss Cavendish nodded. 'I will stay here until you return. Then I will go and stay with my Aunt Agnes in Hertfordshire,' she said hopefully. 'She does not like my father, and she has invited me many times to go and stay with her.'
'Good,' Damien said decisively, 'that is settled.' He then went to the bell and rung it to summon Saunders.
Almost immediately, the austere Saunders came into the room and stood by the door waiting patiently for his master's orders. 'Saunders,' Damien ordered, 'prepare a bedchamber for Miss Cavendish, she will be my guest for the next few days. Please make sure that she gets everything she needs to make her stay comfortable.'
If Saunders had been shocked by his master's request, he did his best to hide it, by keeping his face expressionless. 'Very good, my lord,' he said blandly.
'No one must know that the young lady is staying here,' Damien added gravely, 'not even her parents. If they come, you know nothing about her whereabouts.'
'Very good, my lord,' the faithful retainer answered politely.
'And Saunders,' Damien ordered, 'please inform the stables that I want my carriage readied. I will be travelling to Dover, and I will be setting out as soon as possible.'
'Very good, my lord,' Saunders said, still not showing any emotion regarding his master's orders, 'will that be all, my lord.'
'Yes, thank you,' Damien said.
Once Damien had finished giving his orders, the butler silently left the room. 'Miss Cavendish,' Damien said to the young lady, who was still sitting at the table looking at her half-drunk cup of coffee. 'I know that you are uneasy staying here, but I'm afraid you have very little choice. Ellington is a very dangerous man, and your father is under his influence and cannot be trusted.'
'I know,' Miss Cavendish said, in a whisper. 'I will stay here until you return,'