Cassandra awoke aware of two things: her head ached phenomenally, and there was a draft. Groaning, she half opened her eyes, found the effort too much, shifted to her side, and attempted to go back to sleep. Weight shifted the mattress beneath her, and comforting warmth wrapped around her. Satisfied that the chill was gone, she snuggled into the heat as it pulled her close, and she drifted off to sleep.

•>>><><<<•

She turned over, and Nickolas groaned, pulling her closer. Cassandra blinked blearily at the blinding light coming from somewhere. Nickolas burrowed his face into the curve of her neck and—

Nickolas. He was in her bed. He was holding her in his arms. Bloody hell!

She wriggled until his grip loosened enough for her to turn around. When had he gotten here? She wracked her brain for what had happened. The last she remembered, they'd been riding to a farm. . .

No, that wasn't true. She remembered someone carrying her. She remembered a man's voice saying she was fine and to let her rest. She remembered reaching out for someone but finding nothing and no one.

Now, here she was, lying in Nickolas's arms. A quick glance around the room told her they were alone, but she couldn't figure out where they actually were. The room was clean and spacious, but it was unfamiliar all the same.

Their location raised a question as her sleepy brain began to wade through the fog: who was their host? That, in turn, raised the question: who in their right mind would allow an unmarried couple to share a room—let alone a bed? Was she, perhaps, dreaming? She pinched herself, but nothing changed.

Nickolas would know what was going on. She turned her attention to the sleeping man beside her. All she had to do was wake him up and ask him what was going on, but he looked so peaceful and rested that she couldn't bring herself to do it.

If he was sleeping so soundly, though, it could only mean that they were safe for the moment. She had no need to be worried. No matter how tired he was, if she was in danger, he wouldn't sleep. The thought reassured her, and she felt some semblance of peace restored to her worrisome mind.

Shifting slightly closer, she studied his face. His firm jawline was peppered with thick stubble, a testament to the fact that he hadn't shaved in several days. The looked suited him unfairly well.

In his sleep, he was so relaxed, from the smooth lines of his lips to his long eyelashes, lightly brushing his cheeks. Cassandra had never fully noticed how perfectly structured his face was. It gave him such a regal look.

His hair was carelessly flopped over his forehead, brushing his prominent cheekbones. Gently, she moved it aside, resisting the urge to run her fingers through it. This was her person. That was the face she loved so well. It didn't matter where they were as long as they were together.

"You're staring." His voice startled her, and with a gasp, she tried to push away from him, but his arms trapped her.

"You're awake!" She said as he opened his sleep-glazed eyes.

He only responded with a grin, and she was acutely aware of the feeling of his hands through her nightgown. Feeling a blush creep up her cheeks, she tried to move away again, but he held her firm, and that grin, that horrible, beautiful grin turned almost feline.

"Where are you trying to rush off to?" He drawled, his voice still heavy from sleep. That alone would have been enough to set her heart to thumping wildly in her chest, but the way he was looking at her only added to the fire in her veins, growing in the pit of her stomach.

She had nothing to say. Losing her train of thought in his eyes was all too easy at the moment. She whet her lips and remained silent, staring at him.

"There you go, staring again. It's not very polite, you know. I might just have to teach you some manners." He raised a brow.

"You're staring, too!" She retorted. "And I wouldn't have to stare if you would let go of me."

He chuckled softly, and close as they were, she felt his chest rumble. "What do I get if I let you go?" That grin was decidedly wicked, and Cassandra was breathless staring at it.

Collecting all her strength, she traced a pattern on his chest. "We can probably work something out." Her voice sounded a little too affected—too breathless—even in her own ears.

Nickolas leaned closer and pressed his forehead to hers. The teasing expression slid off his face, and his thumb rubbed gentle circles on her back.

"I want to kiss you." He murmured, and her heart almost stopped beating.

He looked down as if he was afraid to meet her eyes. There was something so schoolboyish in his face that Cassandra was caught off guard. How could he go from being so mischievous to being so intent?

"Can I?" He met her gaze again, and the apology in his eyes was evident.

I'm sorry for leaving. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do. It wasn't you. It was all my fault. I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? They seemed to say.

Cassandra brushed the hair back from his face again and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. It wasn't a wild, passionate kiss. It was a sharing of the trials they'd suffered, heartbreakingly tender and gentle. A sort of promise. A knock on the door had them jumping apart. Nickolas's hand closed around hers as though he couldn't bare not to touch her even if propriety forbade it.

The door opened slowly, and Charlie's head poked in. His eyes darted knowingly between the two of them, and he had the decency to blush a little.

"You're awake." His voice was wry. "I can't tell you how many times we had to move him back to his room at the start." He stepped the rest of the way into the room, indicating Nickolas. "After the doctor stitched him up, we came to give you your medicine, and here he was."

Cassandra looked at Nickolas, and he smiled a little sheepishly. "Medicine?"

"I see you haven't had much of a chance to talk." An unreadable expression crossed Charlie's features, and he cleared his throat. "You developed some sort of fever. I can't remember what the doctor called it, but you've been delirious for the past week."

"A week?" Cassandra sat up quickly. She did feel like a newborn calf trying to sort out how the whole movement thing worked. "Where exactly are we?"

"Fergus Manor. We gave you a new room further from Lavinia's to be sure she didn't catch anything in her weak state." Charlie explained.

"Weak state?" Cassandra's eyes widened. What was going on? Had Granger come while she slept?

"Is there a reason you're here?" Nickolas interrupted. "A message came for you." Charlie said.

Nickolas was out of bed almost before he'd finished speaking, his hand outstretched. Cassandra slid to the floor, too, lightly leaning against the bedpost as Charlie handed a stained envelope to Nickolas.

When Nickolas turned around, his expression told her something was happening. She half moved toward him, but he moved to the window and tore open the envelope. She looked at him for any clue of what the message said, but his posture betrayed nothing of its contents.

"Would you like to meet your nephew, Cassie?" Charlie's voice drew her attention.

"Nephew?" Cassandra said, startled.

Charlie chuckled. "Yes, nephew."

A million thoughts swam around in her head. So that was why Lavinia had been in a 'weak state'. She was an aunt. Cassandra bit down on her lower lip. When had all this happened?

"She went into labor right before we went to look for you. That's why Ethan wasn't there." Charlie added. "There's no need for worry, though: they're doing fine. Lavinia lost some blood, but she's recovering. You should come see them. Lavinia will be so glad to see you're awake." He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's been a bit overtaxed recently with the whole moving plan and everything. It'll be good for her to have you by her side again."

"Moving?" Everything he said just added to the questions she had.

"Yes, Lord Brodi is dead, and Ethan must assume the title and familial lands. They're going to be moving into the old place as soon as Lavinia is fit to travel." He shot her a glance.

Cassandra didn't know Charlie well, but even she could read into what he was saying. Lavinia needed her now. She had to think of her family instead of disappearing again.

Turning, she looked at Nickolas. His hand had dropped to his side, and he was casually leaning against the window frame. Too casually. He was waiting for Charlie to leave, so he could talk to her.

Flashing Charlie a smile, Cassandra said, "Go on ahead. I'll be out in a minute after a freshen up a bit." He nodded and left without another word. Whatever faults he had, Charlie was an understanding person. He knew she was trying to get rid of him, and he complied without comment. Irene was a lucky girl to have such a brother.

"I have to leave." Nickolas said, closing the space between them.

"What's happened? Is it Granger?" Cassandra took his hand, biting down on her lower lip.

"Not exactly." Nickolas drew a deep breath. "After your father's death, there was some trouble finding out who was next in line to inherit his title. They've only just found a name. Apparently, there was some family scandal where he and his mother and sister were sent away, but he's the heir, and Granger will be after him in order to lay the Antrucha family flat."

"What are you going to do?" Cassandra asked quietly.

"What I do best: track down his location and make sure he gets to London safely." Nickolas said.

"How long will that take?" Cassandra whet her lips.

"I don't know." He looked at her apologetically. "If they kept a low profile, there's no telling how long it might take." His voice was low and tight. "But I have to get to him before Granger does."

Cassandra released a sigh, her eyes tracing the seams in the floor. Was it always going to be like this for them?

"You know I want to go with you, but—" She looked up at him with a soft sigh.

"But Lavinia needs you right now." Nickolas finished. "I know. I'll be as quick as I can." "If you leave, won't Granger have an opening to attack us?" Fear snaked through her heart as she recalled what Granger had said. "Lavinia has just become Lady Brodi, one of the most powerful positions in Scotland. Granger will have to get creative about going after them now." Nickolas covered her hands with his reassuringly. "Besides, with Fulsmith gone, he's going to pause and regroup. For all his faults, Granger is neither stupid or hasty. He's waited two decades to come this far, a few months will hardly matter at this point. Anyway, his main concern at the moment is bringing down the Antrucha household, so he'll be going after your father's heir."

"And subsequently you." Cassandra nodded, biting down on her lip. Looking away from his searching gaze, she tried to hide the ridiculous tears that welled up in her eyes.

"Hey, do you really think I'll let him stop me from coming back to you? Believe me, nothing will get in my way. I don't care what happens. I'm going to come back."

His voice was so sincere she could almost believe nothing would stop him. After all, hadn't he already been shot and injured multiple times by Granger's hand? However, separation from him at this point, after all this time together, seemed like such terrible, unending torture.

"Hurry back." She murmured.

He cupped her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. "Before I go, I have a request."

A smile tugged at his lips, and an almost mischievous glint stole into his eyes. Cassandra nodded, a smile touching her own lips. Here was the adventure she had sought so covetously after all those months ago in London, and no matter what came now, no matter long it took to solve this, he was hers.

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I meant to post this yesterday, but the holiday activities got in the way, unfortunately. I've got mixed feelings about posting this last chapter. Yes, you read that right. This is the last chapter. I hope to be posting the epilogue in the next few days, but this is the last 'real' chapter. I can't believe how far this story has come since the concept first entered my head! I've enjoyed every single minute inside Cassandra's head, and I'm looking forward to any future encounters. I'll miss constantly thinking about what she'd do/encounter next.