by Lory Lilian
Elizabeth smiled with indulgence the whole time, casting meaningful glances toward Georgiana and Darcy. It was also obvious that the Misses Thomason shared a deep admiration for Colonel Fitzwilliam and nearly competed for the favour of flirting with him. The colonel appeared to tolerate them with good humour and even winked at Colonel Thomason a few times.
Another thing Elizabeth noticed was Cassandra’s unusual silence. She expected that Cassandra would be slightly uneasy at the colonel’s sudden appearance; however, it was more than that. Cassandra’s torment was so obvious that it was difficult for Elizabeth to see it without enquiring.
The gentlemen were invited to accompany Mr. Darcy to the library following dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam remained a little behind and approached Cassandra, who was standing near the window.
“Lady Cassandra, I am very happy to see you finally. Please forgive me for not speaking to you more when we entered. It was such a situation—
“Do not worry, sir; I noticed you were busy when you entered, as well as later during dinner. You cannot possibly neglect your friends; I understand that.”
Her sharp voice and refusal to meet his gaze silenced David for a moment. “I hope you are well?”
“I am quite well, thank you.”
“Well then…Darcy is waiting for me. Perhaps we could talk later?” He searched her face as she stared through the window.
“Whenever you can spare a moment,” she replied coldly.
The colonel could find nothing more to say and hurried to catch the other gentlemen. As soon as he exited, Cassandra asked for a cup of tea and joined the ladies for a few minutes. A short while later, she excused herself as she was feeling unwell and wished to retire to her room. Everyone offered assistance and expressed regrets and hopes for her recovery. Cassandra could not bear the small talk any longer.
She hurried from the room and briefly met Elizabeth’s eyes. She knew Elizabeth understood, but she was in no disposition to talk to anyone. All she wanted was the complete solitude of her chamber—and her thoughts.
***
It was almost midnight, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was pacing the room, his heart racing , trying to maintain his composure. What was happening with her—again? She promised she would have an answer for him once he returned, and in truth, their last meeting gave him every reason to hope for a happy conclusion.
Now things were even worse than before; she simply ignored him! She barely looked at him the entire evening and answered him coldly as though he meant nothing to her. Even more, when he returned from the library, she had long retired, apparently to avoid him. How could she be so deceitful, and how could he be so foolish as to allow her to hurt him repeatedly? He came all that way only to be with her for Christmas, and she cared nothing for him. So why should he remain? The only thing he could not bear was her indifference, and that was precisely what she was showing him after almost two months apart.
He opened his window, allowing the wind to blow in his face. It was still snowing, and the Pemberley grounds were covered in white. It was freezing cold, but that was nothing compared to the empty coldness in his heart. He leaned against the balcony and closed his eyes; he wanted to feel the snow falling upon his face in hopes that it would make the pain disappear.
When he opened his eyes again, he frowned, not from the cold, but from fear and disbelief. In the near wing on the upper floor, he could see Cassandra leaning against the balcony as he had done; her hair was down, and she was dressed only in her nightgown while the wind swirled around her. Damn, she is completely out of her senses! She will catch her death, that insane woman.
Without much consideration, angry at her insincerity, and worried for her careless behaviour, he pulled on his coat and shut the door behind him.
***
The night was as beautiful as a fairy tale—as though fate wanted to laugh at her torment—and she deserved to be laughed at; Cassandra knew that. All her hopes deserved to be laughed at.
She had longed to see David again since the moment he had left, and now he had finally come. He was safe, for which she had prayed; he was healthy, as she wished, and obviously he had not much interest in her, as she should have anticipated. What could she expect from a man she had refused so harshly and decidedly—a man who had shown his affection and devotion for her honestly with no requite from her?
Six weeks had passed since he departed—since he rocked her heart once more with the confession about his first love. How was it possible? She was the one hopelessly in love with him back then when she was seventeen—she had lived with that bittersweet memory for all those years. The revelation that her love could have been shared—that her life could have been so different—made her feel angry and powerless.
Cassandra spent countless hours wondering whether she would have wanted her life to be different; perhaps she would have been happy with David from the beginning, and perhaps even her parents would have lived longer.
But then she never would have met Thomas or known his sweet love—never felt their child inside her. She had lost her parents; she had lost Thomas and their child; and she had been angry with the entire world and with God Himself. Still, God was so good to her when He offered her a second chance. God kept her alive, healed her, and then brought David back into her life—David and his love. She refused him, and from her own folly, she almost died; God was still there, next to her, as were David and his love.
One morning—about a week before their journey to Pemberley —Cassandra finally realised she had no reason to blame herself any longer for what she had lost if God was so merciful as to forgive her. She had no call to fear being happy if He was offering her the gift of happiness for the second time. She had no right to refuse what was so generously given to her twice when so many spent their lives looking for love and never finding it. She woke up that morning without the burden of suffering on her soul but with her heart full of hope and love—and gratitude.
Now David was there and Christmas was near. Where were her hopes now? He came with his friends and two young girls who competed for his favour. Had he already chosen, or were they merely distractions as were all the others? However, he surely would not trifle with them in front of their brother without having serious designs on one of them. How dare he be so cruel as to arrive with them? Was he trying to hurt her as she had hurt him?
The snow was falling on her face, melting in her tears. She leaned over the balcony to admire the surroundings, and then lifted her eyes to the moonlit sky. It was as enchanting as a fairy tale, but her soul lay in waste.
“Cassandra, what on earth are you doing? Are you out of your mind? Get inside immediately!”
She startled and almost lost her balance as her feet slipped on the snowy balcony. David grasped her arm and pulled her inside; his strong fingers hurt her, but she said nothing.
“Are you out of your senses?” he cried while she stared at him blankly.
“I am perfectly well; I just needed some fresh air.”
“Fresh air? You are almost undressed outside on a freezing night.”
He released her arm and watched as she moved away from him.
“I thank you for your worry, David, but as you see, I am fine. You should leave now.”
“Yes, I should leave; forgive me for my intrusion.”
“Be careful not to be seen on your way out. We would not want to upset the Thomasons with nasty rumours about your walking into a lady’s room in the middle of the night, though both girls seem so charmed that I am sure they would forgive you anything.”
“What—what did you say?” he asked unceremoniously, but she had turned her back and moved further away. She wanted him gone instantly, as she could not hold back her tears much longer.
“Cassandra, what is happening to you? Why are you acting like this?”
“Please leave,” she begged, and he could hear her distress.
If only a moment ago he had been certain of her indifference, now her voice and behaviour puzzle
d him exceedingly. She was obviously crying and suffering. That could not be indifference. Even more, she talked such nonsense about —
David looked at her in complete shock, his mouth and eyes open wide in understanding. In two steps, he reached her and clutched her to him almost brutally; she did not resist, only her eyes remained lowered to the ground. “God, Cassandra! Are you jealous? Is that it? Are you jealous? Please tell me that is the reason—please,” he begged her, as his hands caressed her hair and a broad smile spread over his face.
“You have no shame, sir,” she replied furiously as she wiped her tears, her eyes like daggers of wounded rage cast at him. “You have no shame and no honour to come here with your friends and then question my behaviour. How dare you speak of jealousy? I am asking you to leave this moment; you have no right to be in my chamber.”
Each of her angry words was a sweet balm for his previous distress. By the time she finished her tirade, he took her hands by force and kissed them tenderly, as she struggled to be free of his hold.
“I missed you so much.” He spoke with such tenderness that she stilled. “I was so afraid of losing you, yet so hopeful when I left you; these weeks have been a torture for me. I counted the hours and the minutes until I would see you again. I was close to resigning from the army if they would not allow me to come.”
Cassandra could not speak—could not move or breathe; even her heart was afraid to beat again, frightened that it was only a dream and any movement might awaken her.
“Do you know how hurt I felt when you ignored me all evening? I hoped you would come and greet me, smile at me, perhaps whisper your answer to me, and release my torment as soon as possible. Instead, I received only cold indifference—
“Cold indifference? I almost cried when you entered the room, and then what did you do? Nothing! How could I whisper anything to you when those girls were almost in your lap?!”
He burst out laughing, and she turned her back to him again, trying to dry her cheeks. David encircled her with his arms, crushed her back against his chest, and then tilted her head so he could wipe away her tears with his lips.
“You were jealous of the young Thomason girls,” he teased her, and she fought to break free from his arms. “You were jealous of two girls Georgiana’s age,” he continued as his lips covered her face with soft kisses.
“David, please stop. We have to talk seriously,” she whispered, though her resistance became weaker.
“As you like,” he continued between kisses. “Any wish of yours is my command, your ladyship,” he said and, indeed, he stopped his caresses and turned her to him. She finally met his eyes.
“David, I do not find much amusement in this; I admit I was jealous. My turmoil all these weeks was no less than yours. And then when you arrived this evening, I was certain I had lost your interest in hearing my answer. Do you still want to hear my answer, David?”
“Not really,” he teased her, and she frowned. “My beautiful Cassandra, I do not need words to confirm what your tears already tell me,” he added tenderly as he softly kissed her lips. She tentatively responded to his kisses, trying to say something more, but he captured her lips gently.
“Why did you come to my room?” she asked, her lips only a few inches from his.
“I saw you on the balcony, and I was afraid for you.”
“I was just thinking of you.”
“And I of you as I was outside on my own balcony.”
“I cannot believe everything has changed in only a few minutes, David.”
“I cannot believe I was so stupid to waste all those minutes doubting you.” He continued to kiss her with growing passion and suddenly lifted her in his arms, their lips still joined, as she cried and put her arms around his neck. After closing the window, he carried Cassandra to the bed, where they both reclined.
Only then did she withdraw her lips from his to whisper, “David, I still have so many things to tell you.”
He briefly frowned. “There is only one thing I want to hear this moment, Cassandra. Will you allow me in your life—now and tomorrow and for a lifetime?”
“I will…I do,” she said, as her fingers gently touched his face.
“Then anything else can wait.” As she closed her eyes to receive his kisses, he rose from the bed.
“Are you leaving?” she inquired with surprise and no little concern.
He laughed, removed his clothes and threw himself next to her; she began to laugh, but he quickly captured her lips with unleashed urgency.
“Do you think I intend to leave?” he asked as his hands possessively removed her gown.
“Not anymore,” she replied breathlessly.
“You know, madam, I am quite concerned about your lack of trust in me. First, you believed me capable of courting other women in your presence, and then you thought I would leave you with only a kiss. But we will talk about that later…while we rest…because we will have to rest from time to time, you know.”
She laughed, but it turned into a deep moan as his body joined hers. He remained still inside her, and his eyes fixed on hers for a moment; she pulled his head closer and kissed him softly as he began to move.
“God, Cassandra, you cannot imagine how long I have waited for this moment.”
“I can imagine, but I would like you to tell me nevertheless.” She smiled against his lips.
“Or perhaps I should prove it to you?”
“That would be even better.”
David paused once more and kissed her eyes to open them; with delight and utter happiness, he saw her green eyes glowing as never before while her hands tentatively caressed his back.
“Cassandra, did you miss me all this time?”
“You know I missed you, David. Do you want me to say it again?”
“No—I want you to show me. I want you to make me feel that you missed me.”
“That would be even better,” she agreed, smiling with passion.
They needed quite a long time to express everything they felt, to dissipate doubt and misunderstanding, and to satisfy their long-denied desire. In the end, however, their understanding was complete.
***
As much as he was incredulously happy about the passion they had shared, David was even more delighted about Cassandra’s choice to remain nestled in his arms afterward. He still remembered vividly the first time they made love and how completely she had changed by morning. This time, however, it was different; he felt her fingers entwine with his and caress his hand—and that small gesture filled his heart.
“There is something I want to tell you too, Cassandra.”
“What is it?” She turned her head to face him; her hair tickled him and he buried his face in it to reach her ear.
“I love you. As the months have passed since I proposed to you, I find that I love you more.
Cassandra looked at him silently. He waited for her reply, but it did not come; instead, she rose from the bed covered only in a sheet and unlocked a drawer of her dressing table. David watched her, puzzled and slightly worried. She returned and handed him an old notebook.
His confusion increased. “What is this?”
“It is my diary. I want you to read these pages. It was written after my coming-out ball.”
Half an hour of deep silence followed as he read, looked at her with disbelief, and then read three more times, his expression gradually changing; finally, she took the book from his hands and silently cuddled up to his chest.
She could feel his heart racing and his body tense as his arms enveloped her. “You could have been mine all this time.” He tightened his embrace until she could barely breathe. “All the pain could have been avoided if—
“David?” He did not reply, only kissed her temple. “I spent years buried in regrets, sorrow and lost happiness, but now my tears are spent. I shall never forget my past, and part of my heart will always belong to Thomas. My future happiness will sometimes be shadowed by painful memories—that is true—but I
do love you deeply; I love you with a seventeen-year-old’s shattered dreams as well as a twenty-five-year-old’s hopes. So if you are sure you want me, let us not waste any more time.”
She nestled against him and stretched her hand to caress his face; she startled and rolled in his arms to look at him. “David, are you crying?” she asked incredulously, her green eyes smiling through her own tears.
“I certainly am not, madam,” he replied soundly. “Who could imagine a colonel in His Majesty’s army crying? That would be unacceptable.”
“Unacceptable, indeed,” she laughed and kissed his cheeks.
David held her hands and kissed them tenderly many times, and then his lips brushed hers.
“We still have many things to discuss, Cassandra. We have to decide what to do; tomorrow I shall speak to Darcy, and he will help me to apply for a special license. And you—to whom should I apply for your hand?”
“You already said these could wait until tomorrow. I am too exhausted and incoherent to speak now.”
“I am sorry. Should I leave and allow you to sleep? I shall see you tomorrow morning; there is no hurry.”
“I said I am too exhausted to speak,” she repeated in a lower voice.
“Oh…I see,” he smiled and kissed her hands again. “So am I to understand, that, if I do not require you to speak, I may stay longer?” he asked between kisses along her throat.
“You certainly may stay, Colonel, as long as you do not expect me to speak…coherently,” she managed to say before his hands greedily explored her skin, banishing all her thoughts and words—the coherent ones.
***
Darcy had quite a stressful night; for the first time since their marriage, Elizabeth was already asleep by the time he entered their rooms, and she looked so tired that he had no heart to wake her only for his pleasure. So he allowed her to rest, which greatly affected his own.
