Fic: Complications (2/4)
I feel I have the perfect icon for this part. ;)
Meta and Part 1
The day had not begun auspiciously, and to Nicholas it only continued to grow worse as it wore on. The dull gray morning gave way to a cold and rainy afternoon which turned the streets of Cheyenne to mud. The rain slowed work on the repairs as well, but did not stop a large group of men on horseback from riding to the gates and demanding to see the marquis when they were told to halt by the guards.
Nicholas followed Lord Mitchell to the bridge, noting the man's grim expression as they walked. The thief whose tracks had been discovered in the potato fields that morning had yet to be caught, adding to the stress among the townspeople.
One of the riders had dismounted and Cameron approached him, trying to mask his irritation. "I understand you wished to speak to the marquis."
"Yes, my lord."
"Well, he is not here at the moment, sir." There was audible grumbling from the men grouped around them. "I am Lord John's cousin, Lord Mitchell. Perhaps I can be of assistance."
"I doubt it, my lord," the man said, spitting upon the ground. "We have come to demand an explanation for why we are being driven from our ancestral home to make way for some foreign mercenaries. The marquis must answer for this decision."
Cameron's face darkened, but he kept his voice even. "The Sodan fought to protect Caldora from the Goa'uld, saving the very land we stand on from being overrun, in exchange for a home of their own. Lord John and King Henry both agreed to this resolution-"
"And yet, when the time comes to turn us out, the marquis is where?" demanded a younger man, urging his horse forward.
Nicholas watched nervously as the muscles in his master's jaw clenched more tightly. "Lord John was called away on urgent business."
"If he intends to betray us, he should at least do it to our faces instead of running away again," the youth jeered. He seemed to believe his greater height, looking down from the horse, would intimidate Lord Mitchell, who was not, after all, the ruler of Sheppard.
That was a mistake and Nicholas was unsurprised when Lord Mitchell stepped forward swiftly and with one hand yanked the lad from the saddle and dropped him onto his backside in the mud. A knife had appeared in his other hand as if from nowhere.
The other men yelled but Nicholas stepped forward, hand on his sword, mindful of the uniform he wore and the alert reaction of the guards behind them.
Cameron glared down at the young man, but his voice carried over the chill mist. "Lord John was exiled from his homeland for acting to protect and defend the innocent and helpless. To insinuate that he ran away as if a child shirking his duties is an insult of the highest order to both my cousin and to me."
The fool just sat there, looking sullen. Cameron abruptly released him and straightened up, sheathing his knife with care before glancing at the men. "The decision of the marquis is final. You may wait for Lord John's return, but the decision has been made and has the will of the king himself behind it. I suggest you not waste any more time but return home in the morning and begin packing."
The bruised man climbed back onto his horse while the leader looked at Cameron. "We will not be turned from our homes like this. We will not leave."
Cameron shrugged. "Then you are no longer loyal servants of Sheppard, or the crown of Caldora. I would not expect much mercy from either of them in that case."
He pivoted and walked off, Nicholas trailing behind him. Cameron spoke briefly to one of the guards, instructing him to tell the men they were allowed to enter the city to spend the night if they chose.
Nicholas felt a swell of admiration for Lord Mitchell at that. Those men had essentially called Lord John a traitor and a weakling, not actions that urged compassion for their tiredness and need of a safe place to rest for the night. The two of them walked into the city in silence for a little while before his master somewhat awkwardly asked, "I imagine you did not get to spend much time with Cassie last night?"
Given that Cameron usually avoided this topic out of mutual embarrassment, Nicholas was fairly sure he was simply trying to get his mind off the confrontation at the gates. He smiled. "Not much, no. Janet even took Ramus to sleep on a pallet in their room while Cassie stayed with Valencia for the night."
Cameron smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I imagine neither of them can speak this morning. They were probably up half the night talking."
Nicholas nodded. From the amount of giggling aimed in his direction at supper last night, he was rather glad to have been spared the worst of it, honestly.
They paused at one of the wells to drink. Cameron looked at him curiously. "How has Janet dealt with your new interest in her daughter? I would have expected her to play the dragon with any man who got too close for her liking."
Nicholas felt his ears turning slightly pink. He shrugged. "She has not said much, though I suspect she keeps her eye on us almost constantly."
"Of course, she often did that before," Cameron pointed out.
"Indeed." Nicholas drew in a breath, the thought he'd been flirting with for several weeks finally finding voice. "I have been wondering when it might be time to speak to Mistress Janet about asking for Cassie's hand."
Cameron's eyes widened. He regarded Nicholas for a moment as though he'd never seen him before. "You're sure?"
"I think so," he stammered. "I was hoping you could advise me."
"I'm hardly an expert on such subjects," Cameron said nervously. "Besides, you do not need my permission, Nicholas."
"I know, but I should like to have your opinion. And your blessing, if it can be offered honestly." Something rather cold and unpleasant settled in his stomach as Cameron's expression turned piercing.
"I know you are a capable young man, Nicholas. But are you ready to shoulder the responsibility of having a family to care for? You've been accountable for no one but yourself most of your life."
Though his immediate impulse was to say yes, Nicholas forced himself to think. "That's true, but have I not been bound to your service for many years, my lord? And Cassie was family to me long before now - she and Valencia and Ramus, and Mistress Janet."
Cameron nodded. "Do you love her?"
This Nicholas could answer without pause. "Yes."
Cameron pretended to consider that for a moment. "Well, those are all the questions I can think of," he joked. Nicholas rolled his eyes, but then his master clapped him on the shoulder.
"She is a fine young woman, and you would be lucky to be blessed with such a partner in life. And though she is not my kin, I'm sure you know what I will do to you if you make her unhappy in any way."
Though there was a genuine threat in the words, Cameron's face was threatening to split into a grin as he said them. Nicholas felt his knees tremble a little and he nodded. "I can imagine, my lord."
"Good then. Now all you need do is convince Cassie, and her mother. I envy you neither task."
Nicholas groaned theatrically as they started walking again. They had not gone more than a few steps when a man hastened up to them and spoke quietly to Cameron, "My lord, we have found the thief."
*~*~*~*
Gairwyn had been within the keep when word came that the guards had found the stolen potatoes, so she arrived at the house before Cameron did. Though it could no longer be called a proper house, half of it having fallen in due to damage from the fire. Underneath the meager shelter, five children were huddled on the floor with a gaunt woman who looked at the armed men around her with frightened eyes.
The thief, presumably her husband and the father of the children, stood in the rain, arms tied behind his back. He stared at the ground but his spine was stiff with defiance.
There was a noise and Cameron pushed through the curious crowd forming around them, Nicholas trailing in his wake. Gairwyn watched him take in the scene and saw his jaw tighten even before he spoke. There was no good to be found here, she knew. It would have been easier had the man simply stolen out of greed.
Cameron planted himself before the thief, arms crossed over his chest. The man looked up and then quickly looked away, but the lord was undeterred. "Explain yourself."
There was a moment's pause before the man burst out, "I did what I had to do."
Nobody spoke, and the silence extended while Cameron continued to glare. That seemed to unnerve the man more than shouting would have. Finally he continued, "My children were hungry. I couldn't bear it no longer, my lord. You don't know what it's like, to see your family look at you and not be able to do anything for them."
Cameron's eyes flickered away momentarily. Gairwyn rather thought the young man had plenty of experience dealing with the unresolved wishes of his family, but it was not the same and everyone knew it.
Cameron's voice was firm, though, when he spoke again. "And what makes you more entitled to the food than any of the other men in Cheyenne? Why is it that you feel above the law even though others in the city suffer worse than you do?"
The thief shook his head. "I couldn't bear it no more," he repeated, a little desperately.
Cameron stepped forward, looming over the man and forcing him to take a panicked step backwards. "And what will you say to the child who will now go hungry because of your thieving? What gives you the right to take food from another's mouth?"
The man shook his head mutely. There was no answer to that question. Behind him, one of the little girls began to sob audibly and was pulled into her mother's embrace.
Cameron didn't waver. Gairwyn could only imagine what it cost him, to hear the pain of a small child and be unable to offer comfort. He knew, as she did, that their situation was too precarious. This kind of theft, whatever the motive, would need to be punished severely to discourage anyone else from following this man's example. Every single scrap of food must be protected if they were going to survive the winter.
Stepping back, Cameron glanced towards the guards. "Take him to the dungeon under the keep." He hesitated for one second, and then his voice went harsh. "Seven days."
There were gasps from the watching crowd. The guards marched the man off while his wife began to cry, cradling her child in her lap. Cameron avoided making eye contact with anyone else and departed with Nicholas. Gairwyn noticed that Lord Davis was present along with the members of the royal guard, having evidently witnessed the whole exchange. His expression was somber and he merely nodded to Gairwyn before leaving himself.
The crowd began to drift away, carrying news of the capture of the thief and his punishment through the city. She hoped the story would spread quickly, and spare them all any more scenes such as this one.
*~*~*~*
In her professional opinion, Janet was sure the Sodan woman's baby would arrive within days. Her belly had dropped noticeably since the beginning of the week. Janet did her best to ensure the woman's comfort and reminded her companions to send for her as soon as the first signs of labor began. The baby seemed rather large and the woman was slender. Janet wanted to be able to keep an eye on things.
One of the other women called to her, and Janet went to assist her in corralling her husband from the masonry work to sit and let her look at a boil on his arm. It was not large, but it would become far more painful if not attended to. It took some sparring with his wife before he submitted to be treated, while Janet merely watched in amusement. She could dimly remember arguing with her own husband like that, but it had been so many years past, it seemed like another life.
Because she was near the work site, Janet was in either the exact right or exact wrong place at the wrong time. A group of four men sidled nearer to the area, clearly not interested in working as the other men were. They watched the Sodan with undisguised hostility, and within a few minutes worked themselves up to begin deriding them aloud.
Some of Cheyenne's residents were laboring alongside the Sodan, those who had skill with stonework, or who were not needed doing other repairs within the city just now. One of them, a man named Pallan whom she recognized, stepped forward and called back at the observers.
She was not close enough to hear what was said, but the four interlopers jeered at Pallan with contempt.
Jolan, one of the leaders of the Sodan, stepped forward and urged Pallan back to work. More words were exchanged, and silence was growing around the confrontation as the passers by stilled and watched anxiously as a group of Sodan formed behind Jolan and Pallan.
Jolan seemed to be resisting giving the jackals the fight they wanted, for he grabbed Pallan by the arm and physically turned him away. But when his back was to the other men, one of them drew a knife from his belt and with a yell, ran towards Jolan.
There was a brief shout of warning, but it hardly seemed necessary, for Jolan dodged swiftly to the side and knocked his would-be attacker to his knees with no visible effort. At that two of the other men leaped forward into the fray. They were disarmed swiftly but fists were flying and several people fell into the mud. Others came forward on both sides, and it was not clear whether they came to quell or expand the fighting.
The Sodan man whom Janet had been tending put a hand on his wife's shoulder, urging her away as the crowd grew larger and a full-scale riot seemed about to burst out, but the sound of hooves drummed above the noises and horses arrived from two different directions simultaneously. From the one side came Lord Haikon and two of his men, hands on their weapons. From the other came Lord Mitchell and four of the guards.
Cameron spoke first. In fact, he bellowed loud enough to be heard through half the city, "What in the name of hell is going on here?"
The men scuffling in the mud went still, some of them looking ashamed. One of the ringleaders, the one who hadn't immediately charged forward came before Cameron now. "A disagreement, my lord, that's all."
He glared at the Sodan, daring them to dispute him. Instead, Pallan stepped forward. "My lord, this man, and these three," he pointed to the others, who were lying in the mud. "Began to yell abuses at us while we were working."
The others tried to deny it, but they were drowned in a chorus of yelling from both the Sodan and the men of Cheyenne. After more bellowing, Cameron held up a hand and ordered the guards to drag the instigators away to the keep. He told the other men to resume their work and swung off his horse. Janet picked up her bag, but Cameron called for her before she could depart. She had not even known he was aware of her presence.
Jolan's arm had been cut. Janet began to clean and bind the wound as Lord Haikon approached Cameron. Most of the others drifted discreetly away, but she overheard the conversation between the two noblemen. Cameron apologized for the behavior of the scoundrels, but Haikon replied, "Perhaps they were only following the lead of their own nobles." His voice was sharp and even without raising her eyes, Janet could practically feel Cameron stiffen in anger.
"I beg your pardon, my lord?"
Haikon dropped his voice, but not enough to be out of her hearing. "I understand the princess arrived last night and dined with you and your leaders. Was our invitation lost in its path across the city?"
Janet had been invited to supper last night, of course. Her close relationship with Cameron and Lord John, and the recognition from the princess in her previous visit, had allowed it. It had not occurred to her that the Sodan's absence from the table was in any way notable, and she winced as she considered how it must have looked to the Sodan.
Cameron cleared his throat. "The meal was not a formal one, my lord, and the arrangements were made quite hastily. I was not aware of the princess' visit until she arrived."
"You made time to send for the countess," was the implacable reply.
"Lady Gairwyn was already invited to dine with me," Cameron said through gritted teeth. He drew in a deep breath. "I have already spoken to the princess about this matter and she desired me to invite you and your leaders to her table tonight. She specifically wished to speak with you."
If this news thawed Haikon, he gave no sign of it. "Very well, my lord. Please tell the princess I will meet with her tonight."
Haikon summoned Jolan with a jerk of his head and Janet hastened to pack her things. But when she turned, Cameron was already on his horse. She tried to call to him, but he held up a hand as if to ward her off, and then spurred his horse away with an urgency that was not strictly safe within the city walls. She could not remember him looking quite this tense before, and she frowned as she began the walk back to the keep on foot.
*~*~*~*
The rain began again in the evening. When it started, Nicholas had been trying to finish his duties, so when he finally returned to the manor, he was soaked through. Cassie was waiting for him in the kitchens, as had become their habit in the last few weeks. She looked alarmed when she saw him. "Nicholas, you're shaking."
He folded his arms across his chest. "I got a bit damp," he said, mostly because he knew it was quite the understatement.
Cassie rolled her eyes. "You need to get out of those wet things at once."
For a moment he just looked at her, and he knew his thoughts were visible on his face, for she blushed bright red. She hissed his name even as her lips twitched, but she took him by the arms and pushed him towards the door. "For shame. Go, change, and meet me in my room. There is a fire already kindled there, and you need to warm up quickly."
He did not need to be told to hurry. He went to his tiny room and gratefully stripped out of his sodden clothes. When he was dry and changed, he made his way through the halls, slipping into the room Cassie shared with her mother without being seen.
She was seated on a bench before the fire, but she jumped up when he entered and gestured for him to sit. She wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and put a bowl of hot food in his hands. They sat side by side, basking in the warmth of the fire while the rain pattered away out the window while they ate their supper.
When they were finished, Cassie made as if to take the bowls, but Nicholas removed hers from her hands, put it down on the floor alongside his, and then grasped her wrist. He drew her onto his lap, and when she did not resist, he tugged her even closer and kissed her. Cassie's arm wound around his neck and her body was warm against his chest as they sat there.
He smiled. "I believe I am finally warm enough now."
She brushed his lips with her finger. "Well, you were nearly blue when you returned. Your color seems to be back."
"Are you sure?"
She grinned and kissed him once more. When they parted, she rested her forehead against his and Nicholas wrapped his arms, and the blanket, around them both. He sighed in contentment. "I wish every day would end like this."
Cassie raised an eyebrow at him, a knowing expression on her face. He laughed. "Well, almost like this." She rolled her eyes again, her fingers playing with his hair idly. She didn't look straight at him, and a hint of fear stole through him. "Cassie?"
She caught hold of his hand. "Does this ever seem strange?"
He knew what she meant. He raised her hand to his lips. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Usually when we're not together and someone reminds me that we've known each other for so many years. Part of me wonders how I can be thinking..." He stopped, unsure how to articulate some of his more visceral thoughts of her without being offensive. He swiftly gave up. "Thinking this way of the girl I once dumped into the water trough."
Cassie was staring at him with wide eyes. He reached up and touched her face, remembering his earlier conversation with Lord Mitchell. "Then, when I see you, it's as though the world rights itself again."
She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch. He let out a breath in relief. "Cassie, I meant what I said before. I want to know that at the end of the day you'll be waiting for me. I love you," he told her quietly, rewarded by her smile. "I want to be your husband. Will you - will you marry me?"
She held his gaze steadily. "Yes," she told him simply, without hesitating. Then she leaned forward and kissed him deeply, catching him off-guard for a moment. But then he kissed her back eagerly, forgetting everything else in the world save the sweetness of her mouth.
It was in this position that they were inevitably interrupted by Janet. They both startled, leaping to their feet guiltily. Mercifully, their clothing was all in place as Janet stood looking at them piercingly. He and Cassie shared a look that probably gave everything away, but he squeezed her hand and turned to her mother, deciding there was no time like the present. "Mistress Janet, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Cassie appeared about to protest, but she gave in with unusual meekness, gathering the empty bowls from the floor and departing, leaving Nicholas to fidget alone under her mother's steady gaze. Janet looked very much like she was trying not to be amused by the situation, which only made matters worse.
He had faced the Goa'uld in battle and survived. How was it that this was ten times more difficult?
He took a deep breath. "Mistress Janet," he said, "I... I want to ask your permission to marry Cassie."
There. He'd gotten the words out of his mouth, and gathering his courage to say it while she stared at him had only taken a few decades.
She appeared unsurprised. Janet replied, her voice even and slow, "I gathered as much. I take it you have already spoken with her about it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Nicholas said. If he could speak of his feelings to Cassie, he could do no less than be honest with her mother. "I love her."
"I am not questioning that," Janet replied, folding her arms across her chest. "I've seen this coming for some while now. I know your feelings are deep and so are hers. But Cassie is my child, and I need to know that you are both prepared for this. What are your plans for the future?"
Nicholas nodded. "I am in my lord Mitchell's service until he sees fit to release me," he stated after a moment. "I do hope that a knighthood is not far off, but that will be Lord Mitchell's decision, or Lord John's."
Janet nodded, but it was clear that she had other concerns. "And what of Cassie?" she asked. "What do you expect of her? To keep house and raise the children while you are off soldiering, or whatever tasks you are given?"
The question caught him off-guard, and he looked down at the scuffed toes of his boots for a moment. "We've not talked about children, though I think we could hardly expect to avoid having a family," he said, before realizing that had not quite come out the way he'd intended. "That is, I want to have a family someday and I imagine Cassie does too. But I would not expect her to give up her work with you. Not after she has learned so much. It would be wrong of me."
Janet gave him a smile. "I am glad to hear that, Nicholas," she said gently. "But you both need to understand that this will not be an easy life. There will always be things pulling at you both. You will need to learn to negotiate, and I'm sure you know, Cassie is not precisely compliant most of the time."
Nicholas kept himself from blurting that that very trait was one of the things he admired the most. Instead he kept his expression respectful. "I know we are neither of us perfect, but I also believe we each know the other's faults as well as virtues by now."
Janet chuckled. "One would hope so."
She seemed to be expecting something else from him. Nicholas cast about for what to say. "I can only tell you that I would rather embark on a difficult journey with Cassie at my side than take an easier path with someone else."
Despite his elocutionary deficiencies, he seemed to have said precisely the right thing, for Janet beamed at him. She came forward and embraced him, and with a softness in her voice which he had not often heard, she told him, "I must speak with Cassie alone, but for my own part, I give you my consent."
He exhaled heavily, feeling far more relief than he would have expected. His shoulders sagged a little, and that drew a laugh from her. "When Cassie comes back I will let you have a moment alone," she said, "but then you must go. Tomorrow may be even busier than I had originally thought."
He nodded his assent, and it seemed that the rainy day was no longer so dreary. There were plans to make, after all, and amid all the chaos in Cheyenne, it felt good to plan for the future.
*~*~*~*
The supper that night was tense. Haikon was clearly nursing a grudge over the slight of the previous evening, and Cameron was beginning to wonder if there was a way to gain his footing again with the Sodan. Jolan, who was probably invited out of deference to him, looked sympathetic, but sympathy from a man in Jolan's position could only go so far.
The day had been well and truly awful. It left Cameron reeling, and wondering how his uncle had managed the province every day for so many years without resorting to murder.
The supper seemed to last for hours, even though the meal was a modest one. The Sodan liked to talk once the wine was flowing, and the princess was skilled at sustaining a conversation even when she didn't know much about the topic. Lord Haikon probably wasn't much less offended by the end of the night, but Cameron was grateful for her attempt to make Haikon's time in Cheyenne more pleasant.
As the group was breaking up for the night, the princess said, "Lord Mitchell, may I beg a moment of your time? I wanted to ask you about the city's use of the royal guards."
Cameron repressed a sigh, wishing he was done with his work already. "Of course, my lady," he replied. He turned to the others and bade them a good night, and then he was alone with Carolyn. He reached for patience, since his stressful day was not her fault. "What is your concern?"
"That you have not had a moment to speak plainly all day, my lord," she replied, looking at him shrewdly. "Sit, please." He obediently returned to the chair where he had been all night, at her left hand, and she filled his cup again with wine and handed it to him. After filling her own she sat down beside him and added, "I understand you have had quite a day."
He looked down at the wine and pondered how to explain the day's events. "I am hard-pressed to say what part of it has been the worst," he said, slumping back in the chair.
"I spent my day reviewing the supplies in the city and drafting a letter to my father conveying that information to him," she replied, taking a sip of her wine. "Should I be grateful that it was not interesting?"
"Believe me, Princess, I would eagerly take a few uneventful days."
At his candor she smiled, and the expression made Cameron's ears get a little warm. "Tell me what happened, Lord Mitchell."
He took a long drink before answering, hoping the wine would numb his senses quicker than usual. "I have already told you about Lord Malchus," he said. "I suppose I should be grateful that he caused no more trouble for me today."
"But?"
"This afternoon a group of men came from the south to protest John's decision to cede their land," he explained. "They were very angry with him, and all the more when they learned of his absence."
"I heard something to that effect," Carolyn replied. She was watching him closely. "Were they involved in the fight with the Sodan?"
He nodded. "I confess, I can understand their anger. To be driven from one's home by the order of the king and the marquis - I believe I would be angry too. But picking a fight with Sodan warriors is..."
"Idiotic?" she suggested when he trailed off, making him laugh in spite of himself. "Perhaps you are right, and their anger is justified, but I can feel little sympathy for their actions."
Cameron drained his cup and set it down on the table with more of a thud than he'd intended. "It was the last straw," he said lowly.
"What do you mean?"
"Not an hour before, the thief had been apprehended." He wiped his mouth. "I had to punish him, and harshly, lest others mimic his crime." The princess said nothing, only looked upon him in sympathy. "I can only hope that seven days of imprisonment will be a sufficient deterrent."
With that he rose from the table, wandering across the room to the fireplace, not knowing what else to say, what could mitigate the frustration of the city's problems. It was difficult enough knowing that there was not enough food and some would be sleeping in the rain tonight.
The princess stood up too, lifting her shawl from the seat of her chair and wrapping herself in it. The sight made a new thought sink in unpleasantly. "And winter," he blurted out as she approached him. "We're using so much timber for building. And straw too. Firewood is a precious commodity even in good years."
"My lord," Carolyn began.
"It hadn't even occurred to me before now," he continued, his voice rising uncontrollably. "What else have I failed to consider? I cannot bear with this alone. John may be coming back but I have no idea if..." It was on the tip of his tongue to spill everything John had confessed about the Queen of Atalan, but some shred of loyalty stopped him from breaking that confidence. "The charity of our friends will dry up long before the needs have dwindled, and then what shall I do?"
"Cameron, stop." The use of his given name startled him enough that he did as she said. She looked a little alarmed by his outburst, and worried about him. "You will drive yourself mad this way."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she laid her hand on his arm, staying his words. The steady rain outside was pounding in his ears, blocking out everything but the lady before him and a sudden, urgent desire. Otherwise there was no way that he would have leaned forward and kissed the princess.
She gasped and Cameron, shocked at his own action, drew back after only moments. His mind was furiously trying to come up with an apology but he couldn't seem to speak. He was too distracted by how her eyes were wide but not with anger, the way she bit her lip, and the moment her gaze fell to his mouth.
The second time, she met him halfway.
In another hundred years or so he would probably question his sanity for this, but in the moment Cameron couldn't help but enjoy kissing her. She wasn't shy or coy about it, just responded to his kiss without hesitation. It was awkward at first, neither of them being sure of themselves, but then her hand came up to the back of his neck and he let out a little noise deep in his throat before coaxing her to deepen the kiss.
She didn't resist. In fact her other arm went around his neck and held on. Before long he had his arms around her, holding her slender body tightly against his. As the moments passed, Cameron realized that someone could happen upon them at any time, but the kiss lingered on in spite of his better judgment. He couldn't make himself stop, not so long as she was so close and so eager.
When Carolyn finally tried to draw back, he let her go, knowing better than to push his luck just now. He caught her fingers, though, as she attempted to retreat, and she blushed. "My lord."
Her voice was barely over a whisper, and Cameron did not know what to say. He had crossed every boundary he could think of, yet given the opportunity he would do it all over again. Part of him wanted to pull her back and kiss her again even now.
He lifted her hand instead and kissed it, though perhaps not as formally as he had before. The flush on her cheeks deepened even as Cameron relinquished his hold. "I will take my leave," he told her in a low voice, knowing he needed to quit the room before his resolve broke.
She nodded, perhaps too quickly, and she walked to the door with him. At the threshold he paused, looking at her, but she was not meeting his eyes. "Good night, Princess," Cameron said.
"Good night, my lord," she replied softly.
As he left, Cameron remembered all the trouble of the day, and he had to wonder if he had just made things endlessly more complicated for himself.
Meta and Part 1
The day had not begun auspiciously, and to Nicholas it only continued to grow worse as it wore on. The dull gray morning gave way to a cold and rainy afternoon which turned the streets of Cheyenne to mud. The rain slowed work on the repairs as well, but did not stop a large group of men on horseback from riding to the gates and demanding to see the marquis when they were told to halt by the guards.
Nicholas followed Lord Mitchell to the bridge, noting the man's grim expression as they walked. The thief whose tracks had been discovered in the potato fields that morning had yet to be caught, adding to the stress among the townspeople.
One of the riders had dismounted and Cameron approached him, trying to mask his irritation. "I understand you wished to speak to the marquis."
"Yes, my lord."
"Well, he is not here at the moment, sir." There was audible grumbling from the men grouped around them. "I am Lord John's cousin, Lord Mitchell. Perhaps I can be of assistance."
"I doubt it, my lord," the man said, spitting upon the ground. "We have come to demand an explanation for why we are being driven from our ancestral home to make way for some foreign mercenaries. The marquis must answer for this decision."
Cameron's face darkened, but he kept his voice even. "The Sodan fought to protect Caldora from the Goa'uld, saving the very land we stand on from being overrun, in exchange for a home of their own. Lord John and King Henry both agreed to this resolution-"
"And yet, when the time comes to turn us out, the marquis is where?" demanded a younger man, urging his horse forward.
Nicholas watched nervously as the muscles in his master's jaw clenched more tightly. "Lord John was called away on urgent business."
"If he intends to betray us, he should at least do it to our faces instead of running away again," the youth jeered. He seemed to believe his greater height, looking down from the horse, would intimidate Lord Mitchell, who was not, after all, the ruler of Sheppard.
That was a mistake and Nicholas was unsurprised when Lord Mitchell stepped forward swiftly and with one hand yanked the lad from the saddle and dropped him onto his backside in the mud. A knife had appeared in his other hand as if from nowhere.
The other men yelled but Nicholas stepped forward, hand on his sword, mindful of the uniform he wore and the alert reaction of the guards behind them.
Cameron glared down at the young man, but his voice carried over the chill mist. "Lord John was exiled from his homeland for acting to protect and defend the innocent and helpless. To insinuate that he ran away as if a child shirking his duties is an insult of the highest order to both my cousin and to me."
The fool just sat there, looking sullen. Cameron abruptly released him and straightened up, sheathing his knife with care before glancing at the men. "The decision of the marquis is final. You may wait for Lord John's return, but the decision has been made and has the will of the king himself behind it. I suggest you not waste any more time but return home in the morning and begin packing."
The bruised man climbed back onto his horse while the leader looked at Cameron. "We will not be turned from our homes like this. We will not leave."
Cameron shrugged. "Then you are no longer loyal servants of Sheppard, or the crown of Caldora. I would not expect much mercy from either of them in that case."
He pivoted and walked off, Nicholas trailing behind him. Cameron spoke briefly to one of the guards, instructing him to tell the men they were allowed to enter the city to spend the night if they chose.
Nicholas felt a swell of admiration for Lord Mitchell at that. Those men had essentially called Lord John a traitor and a weakling, not actions that urged compassion for their tiredness and need of a safe place to rest for the night. The two of them walked into the city in silence for a little while before his master somewhat awkwardly asked, "I imagine you did not get to spend much time with Cassie last night?"
Given that Cameron usually avoided this topic out of mutual embarrassment, Nicholas was fairly sure he was simply trying to get his mind off the confrontation at the gates. He smiled. "Not much, no. Janet even took Ramus to sleep on a pallet in their room while Cassie stayed with Valencia for the night."
Cameron smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I imagine neither of them can speak this morning. They were probably up half the night talking."
Nicholas nodded. From the amount of giggling aimed in his direction at supper last night, he was rather glad to have been spared the worst of it, honestly.
They paused at one of the wells to drink. Cameron looked at him curiously. "How has Janet dealt with your new interest in her daughter? I would have expected her to play the dragon with any man who got too close for her liking."
Nicholas felt his ears turning slightly pink. He shrugged. "She has not said much, though I suspect she keeps her eye on us almost constantly."
"Of course, she often did that before," Cameron pointed out.
"Indeed." Nicholas drew in a breath, the thought he'd been flirting with for several weeks finally finding voice. "I have been wondering when it might be time to speak to Mistress Janet about asking for Cassie's hand."
Cameron's eyes widened. He regarded Nicholas for a moment as though he'd never seen him before. "You're sure?"
"I think so," he stammered. "I was hoping you could advise me."
"I'm hardly an expert on such subjects," Cameron said nervously. "Besides, you do not need my permission, Nicholas."
"I know, but I should like to have your opinion. And your blessing, if it can be offered honestly." Something rather cold and unpleasant settled in his stomach as Cameron's expression turned piercing.
"I know you are a capable young man, Nicholas. But are you ready to shoulder the responsibility of having a family to care for? You've been accountable for no one but yourself most of your life."
Though his immediate impulse was to say yes, Nicholas forced himself to think. "That's true, but have I not been bound to your service for many years, my lord? And Cassie was family to me long before now - she and Valencia and Ramus, and Mistress Janet."
Cameron nodded. "Do you love her?"
This Nicholas could answer without pause. "Yes."
Cameron pretended to consider that for a moment. "Well, those are all the questions I can think of," he joked. Nicholas rolled his eyes, but then his master clapped him on the shoulder.
"She is a fine young woman, and you would be lucky to be blessed with such a partner in life. And though she is not my kin, I'm sure you know what I will do to you if you make her unhappy in any way."
Though there was a genuine threat in the words, Cameron's face was threatening to split into a grin as he said them. Nicholas felt his knees tremble a little and he nodded. "I can imagine, my lord."
"Good then. Now all you need do is convince Cassie, and her mother. I envy you neither task."
Nicholas groaned theatrically as they started walking again. They had not gone more than a few steps when a man hastened up to them and spoke quietly to Cameron, "My lord, we have found the thief."
*~*~*~*
Gairwyn had been within the keep when word came that the guards had found the stolen potatoes, so she arrived at the house before Cameron did. Though it could no longer be called a proper house, half of it having fallen in due to damage from the fire. Underneath the meager shelter, five children were huddled on the floor with a gaunt woman who looked at the armed men around her with frightened eyes.
The thief, presumably her husband and the father of the children, stood in the rain, arms tied behind his back. He stared at the ground but his spine was stiff with defiance.
There was a noise and Cameron pushed through the curious crowd forming around them, Nicholas trailing in his wake. Gairwyn watched him take in the scene and saw his jaw tighten even before he spoke. There was no good to be found here, she knew. It would have been easier had the man simply stolen out of greed.
Cameron planted himself before the thief, arms crossed over his chest. The man looked up and then quickly looked away, but the lord was undeterred. "Explain yourself."
There was a moment's pause before the man burst out, "I did what I had to do."
Nobody spoke, and the silence extended while Cameron continued to glare. That seemed to unnerve the man more than shouting would have. Finally he continued, "My children were hungry. I couldn't bear it no longer, my lord. You don't know what it's like, to see your family look at you and not be able to do anything for them."
Cameron's eyes flickered away momentarily. Gairwyn rather thought the young man had plenty of experience dealing with the unresolved wishes of his family, but it was not the same and everyone knew it.
Cameron's voice was firm, though, when he spoke again. "And what makes you more entitled to the food than any of the other men in Cheyenne? Why is it that you feel above the law even though others in the city suffer worse than you do?"
The thief shook his head. "I couldn't bear it no more," he repeated, a little desperately.
Cameron stepped forward, looming over the man and forcing him to take a panicked step backwards. "And what will you say to the child who will now go hungry because of your thieving? What gives you the right to take food from another's mouth?"
The man shook his head mutely. There was no answer to that question. Behind him, one of the little girls began to sob audibly and was pulled into her mother's embrace.
Cameron didn't waver. Gairwyn could only imagine what it cost him, to hear the pain of a small child and be unable to offer comfort. He knew, as she did, that their situation was too precarious. This kind of theft, whatever the motive, would need to be punished severely to discourage anyone else from following this man's example. Every single scrap of food must be protected if they were going to survive the winter.
Stepping back, Cameron glanced towards the guards. "Take him to the dungeon under the keep." He hesitated for one second, and then his voice went harsh. "Seven days."
There were gasps from the watching crowd. The guards marched the man off while his wife began to cry, cradling her child in her lap. Cameron avoided making eye contact with anyone else and departed with Nicholas. Gairwyn noticed that Lord Davis was present along with the members of the royal guard, having evidently witnessed the whole exchange. His expression was somber and he merely nodded to Gairwyn before leaving himself.
The crowd began to drift away, carrying news of the capture of the thief and his punishment through the city. She hoped the story would spread quickly, and spare them all any more scenes such as this one.
*~*~*~*
In her professional opinion, Janet was sure the Sodan woman's baby would arrive within days. Her belly had dropped noticeably since the beginning of the week. Janet did her best to ensure the woman's comfort and reminded her companions to send for her as soon as the first signs of labor began. The baby seemed rather large and the woman was slender. Janet wanted to be able to keep an eye on things.
One of the other women called to her, and Janet went to assist her in corralling her husband from the masonry work to sit and let her look at a boil on his arm. It was not large, but it would become far more painful if not attended to. It took some sparring with his wife before he submitted to be treated, while Janet merely watched in amusement. She could dimly remember arguing with her own husband like that, but it had been so many years past, it seemed like another life.
Because she was near the work site, Janet was in either the exact right or exact wrong place at the wrong time. A group of four men sidled nearer to the area, clearly not interested in working as the other men were. They watched the Sodan with undisguised hostility, and within a few minutes worked themselves up to begin deriding them aloud.
Some of Cheyenne's residents were laboring alongside the Sodan, those who had skill with stonework, or who were not needed doing other repairs within the city just now. One of them, a man named Pallan whom she recognized, stepped forward and called back at the observers.
She was not close enough to hear what was said, but the four interlopers jeered at Pallan with contempt.
Jolan, one of the leaders of the Sodan, stepped forward and urged Pallan back to work. More words were exchanged, and silence was growing around the confrontation as the passers by stilled and watched anxiously as a group of Sodan formed behind Jolan and Pallan.
Jolan seemed to be resisting giving the jackals the fight they wanted, for he grabbed Pallan by the arm and physically turned him away. But when his back was to the other men, one of them drew a knife from his belt and with a yell, ran towards Jolan.
There was a brief shout of warning, but it hardly seemed necessary, for Jolan dodged swiftly to the side and knocked his would-be attacker to his knees with no visible effort. At that two of the other men leaped forward into the fray. They were disarmed swiftly but fists were flying and several people fell into the mud. Others came forward on both sides, and it was not clear whether they came to quell or expand the fighting.
The Sodan man whom Janet had been tending put a hand on his wife's shoulder, urging her away as the crowd grew larger and a full-scale riot seemed about to burst out, but the sound of hooves drummed above the noises and horses arrived from two different directions simultaneously. From the one side came Lord Haikon and two of his men, hands on their weapons. From the other came Lord Mitchell and four of the guards.
Cameron spoke first. In fact, he bellowed loud enough to be heard through half the city, "What in the name of hell is going on here?"
The men scuffling in the mud went still, some of them looking ashamed. One of the ringleaders, the one who hadn't immediately charged forward came before Cameron now. "A disagreement, my lord, that's all."
He glared at the Sodan, daring them to dispute him. Instead, Pallan stepped forward. "My lord, this man, and these three," he pointed to the others, who were lying in the mud. "Began to yell abuses at us while we were working."
The others tried to deny it, but they were drowned in a chorus of yelling from both the Sodan and the men of Cheyenne. After more bellowing, Cameron held up a hand and ordered the guards to drag the instigators away to the keep. He told the other men to resume their work and swung off his horse. Janet picked up her bag, but Cameron called for her before she could depart. She had not even known he was aware of her presence.
Jolan's arm had been cut. Janet began to clean and bind the wound as Lord Haikon approached Cameron. Most of the others drifted discreetly away, but she overheard the conversation between the two noblemen. Cameron apologized for the behavior of the scoundrels, but Haikon replied, "Perhaps they were only following the lead of their own nobles." His voice was sharp and even without raising her eyes, Janet could practically feel Cameron stiffen in anger.
"I beg your pardon, my lord?"
Haikon dropped his voice, but not enough to be out of her hearing. "I understand the princess arrived last night and dined with you and your leaders. Was our invitation lost in its path across the city?"
Janet had been invited to supper last night, of course. Her close relationship with Cameron and Lord John, and the recognition from the princess in her previous visit, had allowed it. It had not occurred to her that the Sodan's absence from the table was in any way notable, and she winced as she considered how it must have looked to the Sodan.
Cameron cleared his throat. "The meal was not a formal one, my lord, and the arrangements were made quite hastily. I was not aware of the princess' visit until she arrived."
"You made time to send for the countess," was the implacable reply.
"Lady Gairwyn was already invited to dine with me," Cameron said through gritted teeth. He drew in a deep breath. "I have already spoken to the princess about this matter and she desired me to invite you and your leaders to her table tonight. She specifically wished to speak with you."
If this news thawed Haikon, he gave no sign of it. "Very well, my lord. Please tell the princess I will meet with her tonight."
Haikon summoned Jolan with a jerk of his head and Janet hastened to pack her things. But when she turned, Cameron was already on his horse. She tried to call to him, but he held up a hand as if to ward her off, and then spurred his horse away with an urgency that was not strictly safe within the city walls. She could not remember him looking quite this tense before, and she frowned as she began the walk back to the keep on foot.
*~*~*~*
The rain began again in the evening. When it started, Nicholas had been trying to finish his duties, so when he finally returned to the manor, he was soaked through. Cassie was waiting for him in the kitchens, as had become their habit in the last few weeks. She looked alarmed when she saw him. "Nicholas, you're shaking."
He folded his arms across his chest. "I got a bit damp," he said, mostly because he knew it was quite the understatement.
Cassie rolled her eyes. "You need to get out of those wet things at once."
For a moment he just looked at her, and he knew his thoughts were visible on his face, for she blushed bright red. She hissed his name even as her lips twitched, but she took him by the arms and pushed him towards the door. "For shame. Go, change, and meet me in my room. There is a fire already kindled there, and you need to warm up quickly."
He did not need to be told to hurry. He went to his tiny room and gratefully stripped out of his sodden clothes. When he was dry and changed, he made his way through the halls, slipping into the room Cassie shared with her mother without being seen.
She was seated on a bench before the fire, but she jumped up when he entered and gestured for him to sit. She wrapped a blanket about his shoulders and put a bowl of hot food in his hands. They sat side by side, basking in the warmth of the fire while the rain pattered away out the window while they ate their supper.
When they were finished, Cassie made as if to take the bowls, but Nicholas removed hers from her hands, put it down on the floor alongside his, and then grasped her wrist. He drew her onto his lap, and when she did not resist, he tugged her even closer and kissed her. Cassie's arm wound around his neck and her body was warm against his chest as they sat there.
He smiled. "I believe I am finally warm enough now."
She brushed his lips with her finger. "Well, you were nearly blue when you returned. Your color seems to be back."
"Are you sure?"
She grinned and kissed him once more. When they parted, she rested her forehead against his and Nicholas wrapped his arms, and the blanket, around them both. He sighed in contentment. "I wish every day would end like this."
Cassie raised an eyebrow at him, a knowing expression on her face. He laughed. "Well, almost like this." She rolled her eyes again, her fingers playing with his hair idly. She didn't look straight at him, and a hint of fear stole through him. "Cassie?"
She caught hold of his hand. "Does this ever seem strange?"
He knew what she meant. He raised her hand to his lips. "Sometimes," he admitted. "Usually when we're not together and someone reminds me that we've known each other for so many years. Part of me wonders how I can be thinking..." He stopped, unsure how to articulate some of his more visceral thoughts of her without being offensive. He swiftly gave up. "Thinking this way of the girl I once dumped into the water trough."
Cassie was staring at him with wide eyes. He reached up and touched her face, remembering his earlier conversation with Lord Mitchell. "Then, when I see you, it's as though the world rights itself again."
She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch. He let out a breath in relief. "Cassie, I meant what I said before. I want to know that at the end of the day you'll be waiting for me. I love you," he told her quietly, rewarded by her smile. "I want to be your husband. Will you - will you marry me?"
She held his gaze steadily. "Yes," she told him simply, without hesitating. Then she leaned forward and kissed him deeply, catching him off-guard for a moment. But then he kissed her back eagerly, forgetting everything else in the world save the sweetness of her mouth.
It was in this position that they were inevitably interrupted by Janet. They both startled, leaping to their feet guiltily. Mercifully, their clothing was all in place as Janet stood looking at them piercingly. He and Cassie shared a look that probably gave everything away, but he squeezed her hand and turned to her mother, deciding there was no time like the present. "Mistress Janet, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Cassie appeared about to protest, but she gave in with unusual meekness, gathering the empty bowls from the floor and departing, leaving Nicholas to fidget alone under her mother's steady gaze. Janet looked very much like she was trying not to be amused by the situation, which only made matters worse.
He had faced the Goa'uld in battle and survived. How was it that this was ten times more difficult?
He took a deep breath. "Mistress Janet," he said, "I... I want to ask your permission to marry Cassie."
There. He'd gotten the words out of his mouth, and gathering his courage to say it while she stared at him had only taken a few decades.
She appeared unsurprised. Janet replied, her voice even and slow, "I gathered as much. I take it you have already spoken with her about it?"
"Yes, ma'am," Nicholas said. If he could speak of his feelings to Cassie, he could do no less than be honest with her mother. "I love her."
"I am not questioning that," Janet replied, folding her arms across her chest. "I've seen this coming for some while now. I know your feelings are deep and so are hers. But Cassie is my child, and I need to know that you are both prepared for this. What are your plans for the future?"
Nicholas nodded. "I am in my lord Mitchell's service until he sees fit to release me," he stated after a moment. "I do hope that a knighthood is not far off, but that will be Lord Mitchell's decision, or Lord John's."
Janet nodded, but it was clear that she had other concerns. "And what of Cassie?" she asked. "What do you expect of her? To keep house and raise the children while you are off soldiering, or whatever tasks you are given?"
The question caught him off-guard, and he looked down at the scuffed toes of his boots for a moment. "We've not talked about children, though I think we could hardly expect to avoid having a family," he said, before realizing that had not quite come out the way he'd intended. "That is, I want to have a family someday and I imagine Cassie does too. But I would not expect her to give up her work with you. Not after she has learned so much. It would be wrong of me."
Janet gave him a smile. "I am glad to hear that, Nicholas," she said gently. "But you both need to understand that this will not be an easy life. There will always be things pulling at you both. You will need to learn to negotiate, and I'm sure you know, Cassie is not precisely compliant most of the time."
Nicholas kept himself from blurting that that very trait was one of the things he admired the most. Instead he kept his expression respectful. "I know we are neither of us perfect, but I also believe we each know the other's faults as well as virtues by now."
Janet chuckled. "One would hope so."
She seemed to be expecting something else from him. Nicholas cast about for what to say. "I can only tell you that I would rather embark on a difficult journey with Cassie at my side than take an easier path with someone else."
Despite his elocutionary deficiencies, he seemed to have said precisely the right thing, for Janet beamed at him. She came forward and embraced him, and with a softness in her voice which he had not often heard, she told him, "I must speak with Cassie alone, but for my own part, I give you my consent."
He exhaled heavily, feeling far more relief than he would have expected. His shoulders sagged a little, and that drew a laugh from her. "When Cassie comes back I will let you have a moment alone," she said, "but then you must go. Tomorrow may be even busier than I had originally thought."
He nodded his assent, and it seemed that the rainy day was no longer so dreary. There were plans to make, after all, and amid all the chaos in Cheyenne, it felt good to plan for the future.
*~*~*~*
The supper that night was tense. Haikon was clearly nursing a grudge over the slight of the previous evening, and Cameron was beginning to wonder if there was a way to gain his footing again with the Sodan. Jolan, who was probably invited out of deference to him, looked sympathetic, but sympathy from a man in Jolan's position could only go so far.
The day had been well and truly awful. It left Cameron reeling, and wondering how his uncle had managed the province every day for so many years without resorting to murder.
The supper seemed to last for hours, even though the meal was a modest one. The Sodan liked to talk once the wine was flowing, and the princess was skilled at sustaining a conversation even when she didn't know much about the topic. Lord Haikon probably wasn't much less offended by the end of the night, but Cameron was grateful for her attempt to make Haikon's time in Cheyenne more pleasant.
As the group was breaking up for the night, the princess said, "Lord Mitchell, may I beg a moment of your time? I wanted to ask you about the city's use of the royal guards."
Cameron repressed a sigh, wishing he was done with his work already. "Of course, my lady," he replied. He turned to the others and bade them a good night, and then he was alone with Carolyn. He reached for patience, since his stressful day was not her fault. "What is your concern?"
"That you have not had a moment to speak plainly all day, my lord," she replied, looking at him shrewdly. "Sit, please." He obediently returned to the chair where he had been all night, at her left hand, and she filled his cup again with wine and handed it to him. After filling her own she sat down beside him and added, "I understand you have had quite a day."
He looked down at the wine and pondered how to explain the day's events. "I am hard-pressed to say what part of it has been the worst," he said, slumping back in the chair.
"I spent my day reviewing the supplies in the city and drafting a letter to my father conveying that information to him," she replied, taking a sip of her wine. "Should I be grateful that it was not interesting?"
"Believe me, Princess, I would eagerly take a few uneventful days."
At his candor she smiled, and the expression made Cameron's ears get a little warm. "Tell me what happened, Lord Mitchell."
He took a long drink before answering, hoping the wine would numb his senses quicker than usual. "I have already told you about Lord Malchus," he said. "I suppose I should be grateful that he caused no more trouble for me today."
"But?"
"This afternoon a group of men came from the south to protest John's decision to cede their land," he explained. "They were very angry with him, and all the more when they learned of his absence."
"I heard something to that effect," Carolyn replied. She was watching him closely. "Were they involved in the fight with the Sodan?"
He nodded. "I confess, I can understand their anger. To be driven from one's home by the order of the king and the marquis - I believe I would be angry too. But picking a fight with Sodan warriors is..."
"Idiotic?" she suggested when he trailed off, making him laugh in spite of himself. "Perhaps you are right, and their anger is justified, but I can feel little sympathy for their actions."
Cameron drained his cup and set it down on the table with more of a thud than he'd intended. "It was the last straw," he said lowly.
"What do you mean?"
"Not an hour before, the thief had been apprehended." He wiped his mouth. "I had to punish him, and harshly, lest others mimic his crime." The princess said nothing, only looked upon him in sympathy. "I can only hope that seven days of imprisonment will be a sufficient deterrent."
With that he rose from the table, wandering across the room to the fireplace, not knowing what else to say, what could mitigate the frustration of the city's problems. It was difficult enough knowing that there was not enough food and some would be sleeping in the rain tonight.
The princess stood up too, lifting her shawl from the seat of her chair and wrapping herself in it. The sight made a new thought sink in unpleasantly. "And winter," he blurted out as she approached him. "We're using so much timber for building. And straw too. Firewood is a precious commodity even in good years."
"My lord," Carolyn began.
"It hadn't even occurred to me before now," he continued, his voice rising uncontrollably. "What else have I failed to consider? I cannot bear with this alone. John may be coming back but I have no idea if..." It was on the tip of his tongue to spill everything John had confessed about the Queen of Atalan, but some shred of loyalty stopped him from breaking that confidence. "The charity of our friends will dry up long before the needs have dwindled, and then what shall I do?"
"Cameron, stop." The use of his given name startled him enough that he did as she said. She looked a little alarmed by his outburst, and worried about him. "You will drive yourself mad this way."
He opened his mouth to protest, but she laid her hand on his arm, staying his words. The steady rain outside was pounding in his ears, blocking out everything but the lady before him and a sudden, urgent desire. Otherwise there was no way that he would have leaned forward and kissed the princess.
She gasped and Cameron, shocked at his own action, drew back after only moments. His mind was furiously trying to come up with an apology but he couldn't seem to speak. He was too distracted by how her eyes were wide but not with anger, the way she bit her lip, and the moment her gaze fell to his mouth.
The second time, she met him halfway.
In another hundred years or so he would probably question his sanity for this, but in the moment Cameron couldn't help but enjoy kissing her. She wasn't shy or coy about it, just responded to his kiss without hesitation. It was awkward at first, neither of them being sure of themselves, but then her hand came up to the back of his neck and he let out a little noise deep in his throat before coaxing her to deepen the kiss.
She didn't resist. In fact her other arm went around his neck and held on. Before long he had his arms around her, holding her slender body tightly against his. As the moments passed, Cameron realized that someone could happen upon them at any time, but the kiss lingered on in spite of his better judgment. He couldn't make himself stop, not so long as she was so close and so eager.
When Carolyn finally tried to draw back, he let her go, knowing better than to push his luck just now. He caught her fingers, though, as she attempted to retreat, and she blushed. "My lord."
Her voice was barely over a whisper, and Cameron did not know what to say. He had crossed every boundary he could think of, yet given the opportunity he would do it all over again. Part of him wanted to pull her back and kiss her again even now.
He lifted her hand instead and kissed it, though perhaps not as formally as he had before. The flush on her cheeks deepened even as Cameron relinquished his hold. "I will take my leave," he told her in a low voice, knowing he needed to quit the room before his resolve broke.
She nodded, perhaps too quickly, and she walked to the door with him. At the threshold he paused, looking at her, but she was not meeting his eyes. "Good night, Princess," Cameron said.
"Good night, my lord," she replied softly.
As he left, Cameron remembered all the trouble of the day, and he had to wonder if he had just made things endlessly more complicated for himself.