She had to tear her gaze away from his before she lost herself in the depths of his dreamy hazel eyes. Whether today or tomorrow, she must tell himexactlywhat the heartaches in her life had taken away.
She stared at the keys as she placed her fingers over them. During the past year, she had played many times, and enjoyed every second of it. But as she was coming to the end of hermourning, and devised a plan on how she would confront Collin, she had stopped playing. Now she realized if she had continued to play, she may not have had the strength to drive to the wedding and ruin Collin’s day.
“No,” she whispered, moving her fingers over the keys softly. “Music has always soothed me, and I have certainly needed that often this past year.”
The tune she chose was one of Mozart’s slower, more dramatic pieces. As she continued with the piece, her chest tightened. This piece was absolutely lovely, but she didn’t know why she had decided to play this one. Yet she couldn’t stop. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she breathed through the emotions trying to tear her up inside.
She didn’t dare look at Collin. He didn’t move from her side, and it surprised her how his presence consoled her. At the end of the piece, she rested her fingers on the keys and stared at the wall in front of her. Collin still hadn’t moved, and his ragged breathing sounded as uneven as her own.
Suddenly, his finger touched her earlobe. Warm sensations buzzed through every inch of her, making her wilt. This was not good. She needed to slap his hand away and tell him to never touch her again. She needed to make him realize exactly what he had done to her a little over a year ago.
“You play beautifully, my sweet Cass.”
The tears she had been trying to hold back sprang forth and filled her eyes. Her throat squeezed, and she didn’t dare speak for fear he would hear it in her voice.
“Just this morning,” he said, “I recalled the first time I heard you play. I remember feeling as though I walked on clouds as I listened to your wonderful music. It is no different now. I always want to hear you play.”
A tear slid down her cheek, but she couldn’t lift her hand to wipe it away.
“When I saw the music room during my exploration of the manor yesterday, I knew I had to play the song you played that night after dinner.” During his pause, his tender touch moved to her bare neck. “I think you told me it was your favorite song.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. “It was,” she said in a low voice, not wanting him to know how much this topic of conversation was affecting her.
“Itwas? Is it not your favorite now?”
She wanted to tell him how playing that particular piece made her sad, so she hadn’t played it since.Hewas the reason she hadn’t been able to play it. But after hearing him a few minutes ago, she longed for the way she used to be.
All the heartaches she’d had to bear over the last year made her life unpleasant, and all she’d wanted to do was get back at him in any way possible. However, she was weary of playing these adolescent games. When would this anger and scorn finally leave her? She wanted to live a normal life, just as Stuart had promised she would have. She wished to be free of all the heartache and pick up the pieces of her broken heart. And maybe she might meet a man she wanted to give her whole heart to and who would return her love twofold.
As another tear slid down her cheek, she released an exhausted sigh and let her shoulders slump. She was tired of trying to pretend that she was a strong woman, when all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out. And yet that wouldn’t solve anything. She had done that right before her marriage to Lloyd, and the days afterward. It hadn’t changed her life in the slightest. So why cry now?
Not long after Lloyd died, and the anger boiling inside her was getting out of control, Mother had told her to stop seeking revenge on those who had wronged her. Instead, Cassandra needed to let it go and trust that God would fight her battles. It had been so long since she had attended church, but at this verymoment, she wanted—more than anything—to believe that she could remove this hatred in her life. She wanted to believe God would help and make her life worth living again.
Collin moved closer, startling her, as he slid his arms around her shoulders. Her first reaction was to stiffen, but then the familiar feeling of reassurance enclosed her. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth to stop from crying aloud, even as tears continued to run down her cheeks as if she stood outside in the rain.
“No,” she said hoarsely, trying to push him away.
Collin wouldn’t let her go.
She trembled, and she couldn’t control it. Her body and emotions had minds of their own, and she was helpless to stop them.
Collin knelt, tightening his embrace. Although she wanted him to leave, she found herself leaning into him and pressing her face against his shoulder. His large hands cupped her head, and then slowly, he caressed her hair. She had coiled her locks this morning, but gradually, her hair fell out of the bun, which she was certain he helped. He stroked her hair, bringing her anger down until she didn’t feel any animosity toward him.
“Oh, my sweet Cass.” His voice was strained. “I wish I had known… I wish I could have stopped you from marrying Kentwood.” He cleared his throat. “There were so many times I thought about rushing into the church where you married Lloyd, and telling everyone that I wanted you. I had wanted you from the day I heard you play the pianoforte, saw your endearing smile, and heard your angelic laugh…and I have never stopped wanting you.”
Confusion filled her, and she jerked back, breaking the contact between them. She stared into his sorrowful eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Using his knuckles, he wiped away some of the tears from her cheek. “I didn’t think I would be able to bear the pain of seeing you marry Kentwood. That was why I stayed away. But deep in my heart, I wanted to stop the wedding. I knew you didn’t love him, and I knew with certainty he didn’t care for you the way I did.”
Scowling, she pushed his hand away. “If you had cared for me so much, you wouldn’t have sent your cousin to the cottage in your place.” Her chest filled with emotion so thick she could scarcely breathe. “If youcaredfor me,youwould have come just as your note said you would.”
His face paled and he slowly stood. Gradually, color seeped into his face as anger made its presence.
“Mynote? You thought I sent you a note?”
Her head pounded with confusion. “Of course I thought you’d send a letter.”
“But why would you believe it was from me?”
