A Time for Honour

Chapter 19

There was something special about Abbotgate House, and Cassie had fallen in love with the place from the moment she had first seen the outside. She often thought about the reason why she felt so at home within its walls, but it was difficult to explain to herself exactly what it was that had drawn her to the house. It was certainly not the building itself. It had suffered from years of neglect and was in a state of disrepair; the fires smoked; the furniture was old and uncomfortable; the roof leaked when it rained; and the house was full of mice that, over the years, had nibbled their way through most of the carpets and soft furnishings. Despite all this, Cassie had never felt more content.

Damien had spent most of April with Appleby, assessing whether the estate could be made financially viable. He had told Cassie that he was confident that he could, with the help of the money he had received from selling his Captaincy, restore the estate's fortunes. Even though the land had become fallow, he thought it could, with time and hard graft, support a wide range of livestock.

Cassie never went beyond the confines of the house and gardens, even though Damien continually invited her to accompany him when he inspected the rest of the estate. Every time he had asked her, she had always given him an excuse. And, much to her relief, he never pressured her to come with him. She just stayed behind and helped Mrs Appleby clear and clean the house. It was not as though Cassie had not wanted to go with him. She was getting a little restless being cooped up in the house all day, having to listen to Mrs Appleby's constant prattle; but, she did not want to put Damien into an awkward situation with his neighbours.

Cassie knew that she attracted a good deal of attention wherever she went. Her bright blue eyes and golden hair were a potent combination that was difficult to conceal. And, however much she tried to disguise them, it was never nearly enough, and they still brought her unwarranted attention. However, recently, she had become aware that not only could she be recognised by someone she had met at one of Ellington's establishments, she could also ruin Damien's reputation within the local community. If it were widely known that he was living in the same house as an unmarried woman, with a dubious past, his good name would be irrevocably damaged. No one looking at her would believe that she was Damien's nurse. Not only did she not look the part, but Damien was also strong and no longer needed constant nursing care. What he needed more than anything else, were new friends; friends that could help him build up his business and eventually help him become a respected member of the local farming community.

Even though they did not spend their days in each other's company, they still spent time together in the evenings. After a simple supper, that Cassie had helped to prepare, they would sit by the fire in one of the habitable rooms on the ground floor. They had found some furniture that had not been too damaged by the mice and damp and had brought it into the room. With the help of Appleby, Damien had managed to partially unblock the main chimney, so that the smoke could escape outside and not fill the room with stringent fumes.

One evening, about a month after they had first arrived, they were in their usual positions by the fire. Damien was sitting on a large leather chair, that had been surprisingly untouched by the resident livestock, and Cassie was sitting next to his feet, with her back propped up against the leg of his chair, on a threadbare rug they had positioned by the fire. As she attempted to mend a small tear in one of Damien's shirts, she had an intense look of concentration on her face. Cassie then sighed, and impatiently threw the shirt to one side, 'I wish I had paid more attention to that dragon of a needlework teacher we had at school. I would always pour scorn on her lessons, and just as she predicted, I am regretting it!'

Damien laughed. 'Give it to me,' he said smiling at her and holding out his hands, 'I am more than capable of mending my own shirts. You do know, that I have been doing it for the last ten years.'