A David Romance
Part 3

    After several moments, I heard feet stomp into the hall and a door slam.  Then there was a knock at my door.

    "Dawn?  It's Shirley.  I'm sorry for misjudging you.  David confessed that he initiated the kiss and that he held you against your will."

    I let Shirley in.

    "I'm not guiltless either," I said.  "I was a very willing participant, until I heard Jack's pony."

    Shirley smiled.  "David told me that you weren't ready to give him the relationship that he wants.  He is very like his father in some ways.  He is very difficult to resist when he is amorous toward you, isn't he?"

    "Very," I replied, trying to hide my raging blush.

    Shirley didn't frown, as I had expected.  "He is his father's son indeed."

    "Where is David?"

    "Sulking in his chamber, I should think.  I am afraid that I was rather harsh with him."

    "May I visit him and try to cheer him up?"

    "Of course you may, sweetheart.  I didn't realize that he was being a gentleman and trying to protect you when I was so harsh with him."

    "Thank you!"  I kissed Shirley on the cheek and dashed down the hall to David's chamber.

    I knocked on the door.  Inside, I could hear sounds of activity, so I knew David was inside.  He was just ignoring my knocking on the door.

    "David?  It's Dawn.  Let me in, please."  I called, hoping that he had merely assumed that I was his mother and was ignoring the knocking for that reason--not because he didn't want to see me.

    The door opened.  David had a slowly brightening but still sour and stormy expression on his face.  It didn't combine well with his delicate features, and I wanted to make him smile so I could see his dimples come out.

    "Your mother has forgiven me, David,"  I said.

    David sighed.  "She just hasn't forgiven me yet.  Come on in.  Mama won't be wanting to see my face downstairs for a couple of days, but you are always welcome here."  As he finished speaking, a hint of a smile crossed his lips.

    I had never yet been in David's room.  It was decorated in an Oriental motif, obviously at great expense.  The colors were dark, black and deep blue and green, and it complemented the occupant's looks.  The heavy blue brocade curtains were drawn closed, shutting out the sun and leaving the fire as the only source of light.

    His bed was carved from ebony, with a rampant dragon on the headboard and the posts topped with Oriental gargoyles.  The curtains were deep blue Chinese brocade, and the bedcover was dark green.  The cover was thrown back to reveal black satin sheets.

    David was seated in a deep blue wing chair by the fireplace, garbed in a comfortable kimono of black silk.  I walked over to the chair, and David squirmed to one side of the chair, gesturing for me to join him.  And while my body ached to join the handsome boy in his chair for a cuddle, my mind wanted to get to know him.

    Instead, I pulled over a small armchair of carved ebony.  David's face went stormy again with thwarted amorousness.  The huge Oriental mirror framed in lapis and jade over the fireplace reflected his baleful stare at me.

    "I'm sorry, David.  I just want to get to know you a bit better before I become your lady.  You understand, I am sure."  I said to him, trying to erase his frown.

    David smiled a bit.  "Truth be told, I am used to girls who throw themselves into my arms and beg me to seduce their bodies.  I have to admit that I find those activities rather pleasant.  But you, my sweet, are a challenge.  You beg me to seduce your mind instead."

    "I simply wish to know more about who you are before I beg you to seduce me," I said.  "Believe me, it's in the plans.  For you are very handsome, but I wish to know if you are the sort of person I could live with for the rest of my life.  I think you are.  You are the handsomest man ever to grace this land, I know already!"

    "If you had seen my father young, you would think me plain," David said.  "So your words are not as true as you think.  I have lived with that comparison for all of my life."

    "You cannot be so angry about that!  You are far handsomer than your brothers.  Women dream of being your bride--even the married matrons of Tenants' Row!"

    "They see only the Catesby wealth, Father said.  Were I to lose my family connections and the Catesby wealth, they would surely spurn me," Tears hovered in David's eyes.  "You have passion for my physical form only because you know nothing of the comparison that everyone else of noble circles knows to make.  My father's portrait hangs in the hall outside.  Go and look--you will change the tune you warble."

    David refused to look at me any longer, instead staring fixedly at the fire and the twisting fortune signs carved on the black marble mantel.  The merry, noble David had disappeared into a sullen moroseness.

    I walked softly into the hall, knowing nothing else to do but follow his command.  The portrait I found easily enough.  It was a life-size, full-length portrait of a tall, athletic man, with blunt, emphatically male features.  His gaze was vain and nearly cruel.  Slowly, I realized that he was a large, coarse version of David.  David was like the old Lord Catesby, only distilled to his pure essence, delicate and refined.  Both were handsome and surely attractive to women, but women of different tastes.  Most other young ladies, I was sure, would favor David.

    "Is my father, in the glory of his masculinity, not to be preferred?"  David asked, as I re-entered the room.

    "No, David.  He is far too large and coarse for my taste.  And if that makes me an improper lady, so be it.  I like men to be small and delicate, for a man like that is usually gentle as well, rather than rough."

    "My father said that I was no man, but rather a malformed girl.  He felt that because of my delicate face and long eyelashes, that I should put on a dress and be raised as a daughter.  He always hated the law that made the firstborn heir.  He favored Ryan, who resembles him."

    "Why do you let him continue to hurt you like this, David?  Your father is dead and gone.  He can't hurt you any longer.  Only you  can continue to torment yourself."

    "Don't you see?  My father is dead, and I am not Lord Catesby!  In his dying moments, he took the one last act of vengeance that the law allowed him to.  He made Mama my guardian until I was fit to assume the title--by his definition, on the day that I wed."

    "That must hurt.  I take it he told you that you would never marry?"

    "Often.  He said that kissing me was too much like kissing another girl, and that no true woman would ever want me.  The only women he claimed that would want me were the sort who enjoyed only the company of other women.  He attacked my manhood whenever he could."

    "Your father's hurt you.  Let those hurt feelings out, David, and let them go.  You have to, or you'll go mad.  I know that inside you there is a strong, noble man named David Catesby, who will be my friend for life, once he is free.  I know you are the kind of person that I could laugh with and talk to for hours, if only you would believe in yourself rather than your father's words."

    David turned big dark eyes to me.  Tears welled in them.  I stood and put my arms around him.   David's hands clenched in the folds of my gown as he buried his face in my shoulder and began to cry.

    "Let it out, David,"  I murmured to him, attempting to reassure him.  "You are not weak, and I will not leave you."

    We remained that way for a time, until David had spent his grief and anger towards his father.  All I did was hold David, as he cried for the little boy that he had been.  The boy who was never good enough. The boy who had grown into a startlingly beautiful man and who was unaware of his own beauty.  Eventually, he leaned back, his eyes reddened, but still magical and marvelously handsome.

    "I'm sorry for using you as a handkerchief," David said.  "But thank you, for that.  You were right.  He is gone, and there is no need for anyone to judge me by his rules any longer."

    "You should have never judged yourself by your father's rules."

    "Right again.  You are starting to sound like my conscience."

    "It's not intentional, I assure you.  I would much rather make you laugh, as it makes your dimples come out."

    David smiled, revealing a dimple for me.  "You are an endearing little witch."

    "If you'll forgive me for being nosy, there is a question that I want to ask you,"  I said.  "You don't have to answer if you don't want to.  But this was bothering me.  You said that your mother would act as Lady Catesby until the day you married.  Surely, there are so many girls who wish to be Lady Catesby, that it would have been easy for you to have been married already and to have gained your title."

    David flushed a bit.  "I am still a romantic at heart.  Despite all those put-downs, I believed that somewhere out there, there was a girl I could share a true love with."

    "You think I'm the one?"

    "Yes."  David stood, his dark kimono fluttering about his slender body.  Firelight caressed his clothes and hair, and danced in his eyes.

    David's strong hands gripped my arms, and he leaned in.  His lips were ready for a kiss, and his eyes were dark and intense.  Abruptly, his head jerked up in surprise.

    "Mama is calling for you," he said.  "She'll come upstairs for you soon, but she'll be happier if she doesn't have to climb the stairs any more than necessary."

    I stood on tiptoes and planted a kiss on his brow.  David rewarded me with a warm smile.

    "I promise I will eat supper with you, if your mother will allow it!"  I called to David as I left the room.

    He waved to me.  "I'll be waiting."

    I continued on downstairs to discover what Shirley wanted from me.  As it turned out, it was an interminable but fascinating lesson on the proper elements and ceremonies of a High Tea.  Shirley was pleased with my knowledge--I had served my cousins and uncle at many a High Tea.  I needed only to learn the role of a lady hostess rather than a lowly servant.  And I found that the grand place of the lady was much more to my liking.

    Soon enough, it was suppertime.  I begged Shirley to let me eat with David, and she gave in easily.  She almost seemed to favor my union with her son, at times giving me a strange and nearly secretive smile.  It wasn't threatening in the least, but it did seem rather sad and filled with memory.  My best guess was that she was remembering the love that she had surely shared with David's deceased father.  I kept David's revelations about his father's cruelty and favoritism locked deep in my heart.  Shirley didn't need to know anything that would tarnish her memories of his love.

    I accompanied the maid up to David's room.   He was still seated in his wing chair before the fire, but now a table and a second wing chair had been pulled up to share the warm spot before the fire.  And he had changed, evidently determined to appear as a presentable gentleman.  The table bore an inlaid design of blue shell and green stone that glistened in the firelight.  His lounging kimono lay draped over the back of a carved ebony corner chair near the bed, and an image of him slipping it off coursed through my mind.  I shook my head to drive the thoughts away.
 


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