Chapter 179: Chapter Hundred And Seventy Eight

Damon sat alone. He looked down at his freshly bandaged hand. Then, he looked at the dirty white lace handkerchief sitting on his desk.

Damon reached out and picked up the lace cloth. He held it gently in his large, scarred fingers. He rubbed his thumb over the soft fabric.

He reached out and rang a small silver bell on his desk.

A young maid quickly entered the study. "Yes, General?"

Damon held out the dirty handkerchief. "Take this," Damon ordered softly. "Have it washed very carefully. Use the best soap. Do not damage the lace. When it is clean and dry, bring it directly back to me. Do not return it to the Lady."

The maid looked slightly confused, but she took the handkerchief gently. "Yes, My Lord. I will see to it immediately." She bowed and left the room.

Damon leaned back in his leather chair. He closed his eyes, resting his head.

Hours passed slowly. The sun began to dip completely behind the high stone walls of the city. The sky turned from orange to dark purple, and finally to a deep, starry black. The mansion grew very quiet.

A soft knock came on the study door.

A maid entered, carrying a large silver tray filled with hot, steaming food. There was roasted meat, potatoes, and a glass of dark wine. She set the tray down carefully onto a small table near his desk.

Damon opened his eyes. He looked at the food, but he had absolutely no appetite.

He looked at the maid.

"Has the lady eaten?" Damon asked. His voice was quiet and serious.

The maid bowed her head politely. "Yes, My Lord. She ate the sweet pastries and drank some hot tea in her room."

The maid paused for a second before adding, "She has even retired for the evening. Her lights are out."

Damon nodded his head slowly. He felt a sharp pang of disappointment. He had secretly hoped to see her one more time tonight, even if she was just going to ignore him again.

"You may go," Damon said smoothly.

The maid bowed and left the study, closing the door.

Damon stood up from his desk. He walked over to the silver tray. He ate his food in silence. The roasted meat tasted like dry ash in his mouth. The large, empty study felt incredibly lonely. He chewed slowly, his mind completely filled with the image of her eyes and red hair.

After finishing his silent meal, Damon left the study. He walked quietly up the grand staircase and headed down the long, dark hallway toward the master bedroom.

He reached the door. He turned the brass handle very slowly and pushed the door open without making a single sound.

The bedroom was dark, lit only by the pale, silver moonlight shining through the large glass windows.

Damon stepped inside and closed the door. He looked toward the center of the room.

He saw the large bed. Camilla was lying in the exact middle of the mattress. She was wearing her soft silk nightgown. She was sleeping soundly, breathing in a slow, steady, peaceful rhythm.

Then, Damon lowered his eyes. He looked at the floor near the wardrobe and froze.

Resting perfectly on the floorboards was a thick wool blanket. It was folded neatly to create a comfortable pad against the cold wood. A clean, fluffy white pillow was placed perfectly at the top.

Damon stared at the makeshift bed. A sharp ache spread slowly through his chest.

She had done it again. She had prepared his blanket and his pillow on the floor for him. But he didn’t want to sleep on the floor. He wanted to sleep beside her on the bed.

Damon walked very quietly toward the large bed.

He stood beside the mattress. He looked down at Camilla. The blankets had slipped down slightly, exposing her delicate shoulders to the cool night air.

Damon reached out his large hands. He carefully took the edge of the wool blanket. He pulled it up gently, covering her properly all the way to her chin. He tucked the soft fabric around her shoulders, making sure she was warm and safe.

He watched her sleep for a moment longer. Then, he turned and walked silently into the attached washroom.

He stripped off his uniform. He washed his body with cold water, trying to scrub away the exhaustion of the long day. He dried his skin with a soft towel and pulled on his loose, dark grey cotton sleeping trousers. He left his chest bare.

He walked back out into the main bedroom. The room was completely still.

Damon walked over to the large bed. He did not go to his blanket on the floor.

He stood right by the edge of the mattress. He looked down at his sleeping wife. In the pale moonlight, she looked incredibly beautiful. She looked soft, fragile, and totally innocent.

An overwhelming yearning filled Damon’s entire heart. He did not want to sleep on the floor. He wanted to sleep close to her.

He wanted to lie down on the soft mattress, wrap his strong arms around her waist, and hold her securely against his chest. He wanted to feel her warmth.

He slowly lifted his right knee. He placed it gently onto the very edge of the soft mattress. The bed dipped slightly under his weight.

He leaned forward, intending to climb carefully into the bed beside her.

Suddenly, Camilla moved.

She let out a soft, sleepy sigh. She shifted her weight on the mattress, turning her body slightly toward him. Her hand reached out in her sleep, brushing against the empty space near the edge of the bed.

Damon panicked.

His survival instincts and his fear of being caught totally overrode his logic. If she woke up and found him climbing into her bed after he had strictly told her he did not want to sleep next to her, she would mock him endlessly.

She would call him a hypocrite. Her internal thoughts would destroy his pride completely.

He could not let her see him.

Damon moved with desperate speed.

He quickly pulled his knee off the mattress. He threw his entire upper body backward.

Damon fell directly to the floor.

THUD.

He landed flat on his back on the hard floorboards, completely missing the soft blanket she had prepared for him. The impact knocked the breath out of his lungs, but he squeezed his lips tightly shut to prevent himself from making a single groaning sound.

He lay perfectly flat on the floor, completely hidden below the level of the high mattress.

He held his breath. He stared up at the dark ceiling, his heart hammering wildly against his ribs.

Up on the bed, Camilla stopped moving. She settled into her new position and went back to breathing deeply and peacefully. She had not woken up.

Damon lay on the floor for a very long time. He listened to her quiet breathing. He felt utterly ridiculous.