Page 21 of The Beast of Lindenhall Estate (Deals of Marriage #5)
Cassandra felt she was walking on air. For the first time since well before the fateful night of the Collins ball, she was bursting with happiness. And Malcom was responsible. She was excited about their guests coming, for she had sorely missed them all and wanted them to see Lindenhall. But there was another reason too. She yearned to show them all that the brooding Beast of Lindenhall actually possessed a deeply compassionate heart if only one took the time to peer beneath his brooding facade.
Even as she went down the hall arm in arm with Malcom to the music room, despite the poor start to their marriage and the setbacks they had encountered, she knew in her heart that she was slowly falling in love with him. She wanted so much to tell him how she was feeling, but she held back just then, for she was a little worried she might frighten him.
But she was not sure how long she could keep from confessing her feelings to him. The dam of her affection was piling up and seemed likely to burst forth at any moment. However, that evening, with her admission to herself so new, she simply threw herself into the pleasure of being in his company and into to their rehearsals for the visit.
They made a careful selection of duets and practiced for hours, perfectly engrossed in what they were doing. Malcom sang with her in his fine baritone, in perfect harmony.
“It is as if our voices were meant to blend together, Malcom, do you not think so?” she asked him after one particularly beautiful rehearsal. He gave her one of his lopsided smiles that made her heart flutter and nodded as he sat at the piano. He looked younger, more carefree than she had ever seen him.
“We certainly do seem to harmonise perfectly,” he told her. “You have given me back my joy in music, Cassandra. You know, after my parents died, I did not sing or play until you came along. I am grateful that you have brought the pleasure back into my life.”
To his great surprise, she suddenly leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. He felt his cheeks grow warm, and the urge to seize her and kiss her was strong. But he held back, afraid of what would happen if he let loose his growing affection for her .
“I am so glad of it. And I must tell you that although I have been passionate about music since I was a little girl, I have never enjoyed it so much as with you!”
“Thank you, Cassandra. I think that is the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me.” He was indeed deeply touched by her sweet and obviously heartfelt declaration. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her how he felt, but something still held him back. It felt dangerous to care for her so much.
***
On Thursday afternoon, Cassandra took time off from the arrangements for the visit to walk to the wood where she usually met the children. It was too early for them to be there, she knew, for Mary would still be having her lessons. However, since she would not be able to meet them while they had company staying with them, she had decided to leave them a note in their little camp by a hollow tree. She tucked it away safely where they would find it and it would not get wet if it rained, and she weighted it with a stone so it would not blow away.
Once she had done that, she returned to the house. She met with Anna in her chambers to go over what outfits she would be wearing during the coming four days. The poor maid had been in a frenzy of pressing, cleaning, and mending her gowns, to make sure her mistress looked her best.
Despite the hard work, she too was very excited to see the Granthams again because her great friend, Lady Granshire’s lady’s maid, Clara, was coming too.
“It will be such fun to see her again and catch up on all the news,” Anna had said when she first heard of the visit.
At four o’clock, Cassandra and Malcom met in the music room for their penultimate rehearsal before the ‘invasion’, as he humorously called it, on the morrow, when the guests would be arriving.
“I think everything is ready,” she told him as they settled at the piano. “They are expected shortly before luncheon, and Cook has promised a splendid repast, which I have helped to devise, featuring all my family’s favourite dishes. And yours too, of course,” she added. “I would not wish you to feel left out. ”
“I doubt I shall, but that is very thoughtful of you.” Malcom said, smiling at her.
They were so engrossed in what they were doing, they decided they did not want to break off for dinner, so they had it brought to them in the music room and ate together, while they went over the duet they planned to perform.
“I think I should like to have a little more practice at playing The Hills and Dales , Malcom, if you don’t mind running though it again. That tricky little passage is still giving me a little trouble, and I so want to get everything right for Mama and Papa, and Maggie of course.”
“What about your friend Diana?”
“Oh, she won’t mind if I make a few mistakes. She would be the first to admit she’s no great virtuoso on the piano either. I shall be happy if she does not laugh out loud at me!”
“We shall practice some more after we have eaten, will that suit you?” he said, unable to stop smiling at her childish excitement.
“Perfectly, thank you.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder affectionately. These moments were becoming more and more precious to her. It was becoming hard not to touch Malcom, for she felt so close to him, and he seemed to grow more handsome with every passing day.
She loved to stand by him while he played, admiring his thick dark hair and the nobility of his profile. But most of all, she loved his gorgeous blue eyes. When she looked into them, her heart thudded, and she wanted to fall into them and never get out. It seemed that every moment, she was falling more deeply in love with her husband.
That night in bed, she was so excited, she could hardly sleep. But it was not just the prospect of seeing Diana and her family again that was the cause of it. She felt as though her heart was full to bursting with love for Malcom, and she did not quite know what to do about it.
She could not get his face out of her mind, and those vivid blue eyes seemed to be indelibly engraved on her eyelids whenever she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Even when she did finally fall asleep, he haunted her dreams. After another bout of dozing and then suddenly coming awake, she came to a decision.
There is nothing for it. I will get no rest until I pluck up the courage to tell him how I feel. I shall do it in the morning before the others arrive.
Friday morning dawned bright and fair. Cassandra rose early, and with Anna’s help, prepared for the day ahead. When she went downstairs to find Malcom to see if he had breakfasted, she met Hannah in the hall.
“Are we all set?” Cassandra asked the housekeeper, who was looking impressive in her white starched cap and collar and smart black dress, the enormous bunch of keys at her waist as always. She looked very happy.
“Yes, Your Grace, I think so. Do not worry, I shall make sure the guests are most comfortable.”
“Wonderful, Hannah, thank you for all your hard work. Now, do you know where His Grace is?”
“I believe he is in the music room, Your Grace. He told Carlton he was going to practise.”
“Oh, thank you. Is shall go and join him.”
The pair parted, and Cassandra hurried along to the music room, her pulse racing with nerves. She had gathered her courage to steal a private moment with Malcom before their world filled with guests, to tell him of her feelings for him.
“Good morning!” she cried as she entered, to find him seated at the piano, practising a piece.
He turned and smiled at her, a heartbreakingly beautiful smile that sent tingles up her spine. He was already dressed to greet their visitors, in well-polished, high-top boots, buff trousers, and an elegant cutaway coat of midnight blue. He looked magnificent.
“Good morning, there you are. I thought I would spend a few minutes going over a few last-minute details,” he told her, making room for her to sit beside him on the piano bench. Cassandra’s pulse quickened further when she caught a waft of his spicy bergamot scent mingling with the fresh rose bouquet that had been set atop the piano. It was delicious!
“Shall we run through the Hills and Dales again quickly?” he asked, turning his dazzling blue eyes upon her. They seemed to pierce her soul, and her heart turned over at the affection she saw there. It gave her courage.
“Yes, I would like to,” she agreed. Her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as, together, they turned the pages, practising the classical duet selection intended to impress everyone later over post-dinner brandy. Lulled by the soothing strains swelling around them, Cassandra finally decided she could no longer contain the profound truth burning inside. Halting mid-chord, she turned towards Malcom hesitantly.
“Malcom, I have something I should like to tell you,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to her and gazed into her eyes intently, making her feel weak at the knees.
“Oh, yes, what is it?” he asked.
She had rehearsed a little speech, and she groped for the words now, her stomach knotting with nerves. Holding his gaze, she forced herself to speak.
“Malcom, I must tell you the joy and creative passion we have shared together these past weeks have helped me to comprehend that we are connected on an even deeper level than either of us could have initially predicted. The musical bond that first kindled our . . our fellowship has, I have to tell you, sparked into something much more.”
His eyes were staring into hers, pulling her in. She took a deep breath and said the words.
“Malcom, I have to tell you that . . . I am in love with you.”
***
Malcom’s fingers froze upon the ivory keys. He felt the blood drain from his face, and he found himself staring wordlessly at Cassandra for an agonizingly protracted moment.
The old panic suddenly surged dup from within, the demons of the past gripping him in their claws tightly, robbing him of breath.
All at once, he felt himself spinning back in time, immersed afresh in that feeling of complete loss of control over his emotions that he experienced on that fateful, awful night six years ago. He was reliving the moment when the terrible news arrived, shattering his world to smithereens.
“Malcom? Are you all right? Did you hear me?” Cassandra asked eventually, her voice small and filled with painful anxiety.
“I love you, Malcom.” She repeated, her eyes bringing him back to the present with a jolt. Finally, he found his voice.
“Cassandra . . . I cannot . . . I cannot return your feelings. I am sorry, but I just cannot.”
The look of agony in her eyes, the sudden pallor of her face as she bolted from the seat and sprang away from him, he knew would stay with him forever.
“I-I apologise for my foolishness. Forgive me, I must go,” she said in a choked voice, her eyes shining with tears.
She ran from the room, and the pain inside Malcom’s chest was so excruciating, it was as though a crystal dagger had been plunged into his heart and viciously twisted.
***
Cassandra blinked back a swell of mortified tears as she blindly rushed from the music room without a backward glance, her final shreds of courage and hope deserting her.
You foolish girl! How did you think you could ever heal a man so scarred by grief? What made you think for a minute that the ice around his heart might actually thaw enough to embrace this gift of love you offered to him so freely? His soul is damaged, battered; he is incapable of loving or accepting love!
She fled to her chambers, slamming the door behind her and throwing herself on the bed, letting the tears of anguish gush from her eyes in wracking sobs. The love that had only minutes ago filled her heart for Malcom had abruptly turned to a terrible, burning pain she could hardly endure. Now she understood what it meant to have one’s heart broken into pieces.
***
Alone, still sitting at the piano, Malcom put his head into his shaking hands, vaguely aware of the door closing as Cassandra rushed out. Furious with himself, he cursed under his breath, bringing his fists down on the keyboard in a discordant cacophony that mirrored the turmoil in his soul.
What have you done, you absolute fool?! This is the last unforgivable failure you will get the chance to make, pushing away the one person brave enough to try to cut through your carefully constructed walls with such heartfelt, patient compassion! The one soul who bothered to look past the surface scars, right into the essence of who you are underneath all this pain. There will never be another like her, one who has earned your trust as she has. She is the only woman you have ever loved this way.
Yes, you know you love her, but because you are too weak to escape the past, you are incapable of voicing the affection that has been growing inside you . . . not even when she shows you what true courage is by so boldly declaring her love for you!
Now, you have probably lost her forever!