Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “Only when it is sincere, darling. You know that.” Cassidy was amazed as the women embraced, and the feeling of uneasiness dissipated instantly.

  Devonna then returned her attention to Cassidy, who could not help her nervous fidgeting with the cuff of her glove under the woman’s well-pleased scrutiny. Devonna sighed and took Cassidy’s hands in her own, standing back from her as she studied the girl. “Oh, my,” the lovely woman sighed, a smile adorning her beauty all the more. “How she does remind me of you, Cylia. You are indeed a lucky boy, my son.”

  “Yes,” Mason mumbled. “Lucky.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s still bantering with you, my dear,” Devonna sighed, glancing to her son.

  “They’ve been near to tearing into each others’ throats all the time,” Cylia added. Cassidy did not miss the look of guilt on her mother’s face. And she was comforted by it, for at least someone of these people who had so connived to control her life was perhaps feeling remorse.

  Devonna sighed once more with an odd expression of understanding. “It was no easy revelation for you to hear, my darling. I understand more than you know.”

  “Thank you, milady,” Cassidy accepted.

  “And Mason!” Devonna exclaimed. “Mason can be the most aggravating of young men.”

  “Thank you, Mother. Another feather in my cap in the girl’s eyes,” Mason grumbled. Cassidy watched as her own mother took Mason’s arm, patting it soothingly and smiling up at him. She had the overwhelming and undeniable sense that she was the only one who was ignorant of something.

  “Well, enough of this,” Devonna announced. “Go on, Mason. Kiss her. It will work wonders on her will against you!”

  “What?” Cassidy heard Mason’s voice exclaim the question simultaneously with her own as they both looked at Lady Carlisle in utter astonishment at the suggestion.

  “Look there,” Devonna giggled. “I’ve shocked her into submission for you! No doubt she is too astounded to move, my darling. Quickly! While the moment is still upon you.”

  “Your teasing manner will be the end of you one day, Mother,” Mason warned, though Cassidy noticed the light that suddenly flickered in his eyes as he smiled at his mother.

  “But, darling,” Devonna sighed, “I was not at all teasing.”

  “Careful, Mother. The chit doesn’t know you as I do. You’ll scare her into heart failure,” Mason chuckled, bending to kiss his mother once more. He took Cylia’s hand and kissed the back of it quickly before nodding at Cassidy and saying, “Come along, Havroneck. We must get to the unattended business that has no doubt been piling up in my absence.”

  But before he could take leave of them, there came from a nearby hallway the sound of large padded feet approaching at great speed. Suddenly, a large black Labrador, tongue hanging from its mouth in excitement, bounded into the room. The animal balanced on his hind legs as he pawed with delight at Mason’s chest.

  “Mathias!” Mason exclaimed. Cassidy was instantly mesmerized by the change that came over Mason’s feature of face as he smiled elatedly at the animal. “Mathias, my boy! Did you miss me then?” Mason asked.

  It was utter astonishment that overtook Cassidy next as she watched the great, angry man sit down promptly where he had stood and begin wrestling somewhat boyishly with the dog. The dog lapped lovingly at Mason’s cheek, and the man merely mumbled affectionate words to the thing.

  Devonna frowned, saying, “Mason, darling. Your bride-to-be will never want of your kiss if you let that slobbering hound at your face any longer.”

  “I can guarantee you, Mother, that the girl will never want of my kiss, regardless,” Mason stated, chuckling at the dog as he lapped at his master all the more. “She has her own ideas of what a lover should be.”

  Instantly Cassidy was both humiliated that Mason should speak so of her in front of his mother and angry that he would be so pompous in his estimations of her.

  “I see what you mean, Cylia,” Devonna Carlisle admitted, sighing heavily as she linked her arm with Cassidy’s. “Has he been thus since you first saw him, my dear?” she asked Cassidy. Cassidy did not answer, and her silence told the woman all she needed to know. “Then let us vex him thoroughly, shall we? He deserves no less.” Cassidy frowned, completely puzzled by the woman’s suggestion. “Come now, love,” she whispered to Cassidy. “Call the dog to you. You’ll be glad to have Mathias as a friend. Go on now,” Devonna urged.

  “Mathias…come,” Cassidy commanded rather uncertainly. Instantly the dog ceased in his play with Mason and stood still, his attention directed to Cassidy.

  “What are you about, Mother?” Mason asked.

  At the prodding of Devonna’s elbow in her ribs, Cassidy again said, “Mathias, come here.”

  Suddenly the dog began panting happily again and bounded toward Cassidy. In a moment his front paws pushed heavily against her legs.

  Cassidy could not stop the delighted smile that spread across her face as the dog wagged his tail and panted excitedly as he looked up at her.

  “Go on now. He’ll not hurt you, for he knows why you have come,” Devonna said quietly.

  Tentatively, Cassidy reached out and stroked Mathias’s head firmly over and over again.

  “He’s spoiled for a woman’s touch,” Devonna added, petting the animal herself several times.

  “He’s a traitor is all,” Mason grumbled, getting to his feet once more. But Cassidy noted that the ever-present anger was nearly gone from his expression. “Come now, Mathias. Havroneck,” Mason commanded. Cassidy had all but forgotten the manservant standing obediently nearby until he fell into step beside Mason. “There is work to attend to.”

  Mathias took no pause to consider and happily left Cassidy to follow his beloved master. Mason and Havroneck strode swiftly away, Mathias running circles about them as they went.

  Devonna’s laughter was like the tinkling of tiny crystal bells as it erupted almost immediately. Cassidy’s eyes widened as her own mother seemed unable to restrain herself and burst into giggling of her own.

  “You’re incorrigible, Dev,” Cylia gasped between laughter.

  “I-I-I am sorry, darling,” Devonna sighed. Then, turning to Cassidy, she said, “I’m a terrible tease, and I just couldn’t stand that thick soup of tension between the two of you any longer.”

  Cassidy, however, was amused only momentarily and for several reasons. First, she did not like being made to feel so uncomfortable almost immediately upon entering a stranger’s home, especially when her own mother seemed to feel completely at ease. Second, she was astounded that Mason was not more defensive at his mother’s heckling. And third, and most disturbing of all, was the fact that when his mother suggested Mason kiss her, something within her thrilled into hope that he would actually act upon the suggestion!

  “She has lost every bit of her color,” Devonna commented, bringing Cassidy back from her thoughts and to the conversation at hand once more.

  “She has had a rough time of it, Dev,” Cylia said, placing a protective arm about her daughter’s shoulders and kissing her lovingly on the cheek. “It came as such a shock. She had seen Mason all of two minutes when the revelation was made.”

  Cassidy dropped her eyes for a moment, and when she again looked up, it was to see Devonna looking at her. Her eyes shone with greater sympathy and understanding than she could ever have imagined someone possessing, other than her own mother, who, when she turned to look at her as well, held the same sympathetic, understanding expression.

  “He is an uncommonly good and kind man, my son,” Devonna spoke to Cassidy in nearly a whisper. “He seems all thistles and burrs, I know. But that’s merely his way of…he hides behind his fierce exterior. It’s his armor, you see. But his Achilles’ heel cannot hide itself from you forever. You’ll see.” Devonna reached out and caressed Cassidy’s cheek fondly with one soft hand. “You must trust in your mother and me. We have experience and wisdom in our ranks.” She nodded reassuringly at Cassidy. Then, takin
g Cylia’s hand, she directed, “Come now, my two lady friends. LaMont will be mad with being anxious to see you. We must go to him at once. You can freshen up and rest after you have seen him. He’ll not be able to rest until he knows you are here safely.”

  “How fares milord? Truly, Dev,” Cylia asked.

  Cassidy felt pity for the woman, for a shadow of something like fear passed over her face at the question.

  “He…he is strong yet. And I am hopeful, for I cannot bear this. I cannot lose…I know it’s coming, but I pray each day for another,” she answered quietly. She seemed to force the moisture from brimming in her eyes and a smile to her face as she turned to Cassidy. Taking her arm as they began ascending a long staircase, she added, “But you’ll keep the life in him now. He’ll be beyond enduring the pleasure that seeing you here will bring him.”

  

  “Darling?” Devonna called softly upon opening the door to a grand bedchamber at the end of one long hallway. “LaMont? Are you indeed awake, my love?”

  “Of course, Dev. Of course. Have they arrived then?” a deep and commanding voice boomed from within. It did not at all sound to Cassidy as the voice of an invalid man.

  “Oh, yes, LaMont! And she is more beautiful than I had imagined, for she looks the image of Cylia.” Devonna’s voice spoke with excitement and hope, but Cassidy did not miss the catch of emotion in her throat.

  Cassidy followed her mother into the grand chamber. There she beheld her first vision of the man that was father to her betrothed. He was an enormous man! The great expanse of the bed on which he lay did nothing to dwarf him. He was grandly handsome, the image of Mason, only with silvered hair and the deepest of green eyes.

  “Cylia!” the man boomed in greeting, throwing his arms wide. It was utterly astonished that Cassidy found herself when her mother fairly threw herself into the man’s bold embrace. “Cylia, my dove! You look as if you drink from none other than the fountain of youth, girl.”

  Cassidy’s eyes widened as her mother kissed the man soundly on one cheek, holding his face rather adoringly in her small hands as she smiled at him. Cassidy glanced quickly at Devonna, fully expecting her to have one disapproving eyebrow raised at the scene. But again, to her astonishment, Devonna stood, tears welling in her eyes, her hands clasped together as in a prayer of thankfulness, smiling joyously at the scene. Cassidy brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, feeling for a moment as if she might faint dead away at the confusion of it all.

  “LaMont, you fool,” Cylia sighed. “How dare you worry Dev like this.” Cassidy’s attention returned to what was transpiring.

  “I am a fool, and well you know that.” The man chuckled for a moment before looking past Cylia to Cassidy. His eyes were piercing, not unlike his son’s, only warmer and approving, as they studied her. “And is this vision who stands ashen as if at death’s door…is this she who would make my son’s life whole?”

  If his eyes studying her hadn’t nearly been her undoing, his words certainly were! Releasing Cylia then, the large man held out his arms, beckoning that Cassidy should come to him. Devonna nodded reassuringly at Cassidy, and Cassidy knew that it was important to the woman that she accept the man’s embrace eagerly. With what courage she could muster, Cassidy let her feet carry her forward, and she soon found herself tightly enveloped in the great man’s arms. Cassidy was instantly bewitched somehow by him. He smelled of medicine, yes. But also of masculine soap, pipe tobacco, and cinnamon. He hugged her tightly for a long moment and then held her away from him, taking her chin firmly in one still-powerful hand.

  “The dove,” he whispered as his eyes met with hers, and a curious thought passed through Cassidy’s mind.

  For a fleeting moment, she thought, I would have loved you too. There was something alluring about him, enchanting. What is it? she wondered.

  He seemed to read her thoughts, for he spoke quietly, “He and I are cut from the same stone, dove. I was once as thickheaded, stubborn, and impetuous as you find Mason to be now. But Dev softened me up a bit, didn’t you, darling?”

  “A bit,” Devonna answered.

  “Sit just here, pet,” he commanded, patting a spot next to him. Cassidy felt suddenly warmer and more secure than she had since the day Mason arrived at Terrill. This man would let nothing hurt or harm her if it were within his power to protect her from it. She sensed it instantly. “Now,” he continued, “tell me of the atrocious treatment you’ve suffered at the hand of my pigheaded son.” He smiled bewitchingly, and Cassidy smiled in return. “Come now, pet. Tell me. It’s well I know him.”

  “None to speak of, milord,” Cassidy answered.

  The great man wrinkled up his nose and frowned as if he’d only just smelled something unpleasant. “Milord?” he repeated. “We’ll have none of that. You may call me Father, Papa, or even LaMont. But, please, not milord.”

  “You’ll find her very formal, LaMont. She is, after all, well bred and brought up,” Devonna offered with a smile.

  “Yes, of course. Now,” he continued, “specifics please. What kind of folderol has the brute put upon you?”

  “She answered you already, Father. ‘None to speak of.’” All eyes in the room turned to look at Mason where he stood just inside the door.

  “Mason, my boy!” the man exclaimed, overjoyed. Mason smiled and strode to his father’s bedside. Cassidy made to move to leave room for the son to attend his father, but LaMont Carlisle’s strong hand covered her own where it lay at his side, staying her. Cassidy was entirely astounded as Mason leaned over, embracing his father firmly and receiving a strong embrace and a slap on the back in return. Never had she seen even her own brother embrace her father. It surprised her somehow that a man as sternly disciplined and angry-tempered as Mason Carlisle would show such affection openly. Releasing his son then, LaMont added, “Now, do tell me…what nonsense have you wrought on this girl?”

  Mason grinned at his father, his eyes unfamiliarly warm. “No more than she has labored to bestow on me,” he answered.

  Cassidy herself had not heard her own involuntary gasp at his understating his behavior toward her—understated in her own estimation at least.

  “Well,” LaMont boomed, “she seems to think you’re not in earnest, my boy,” the great man chuckled. Mason simply shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “Never fear, my dove,” LaMont said to Cassidy, “for it’s well that I know my own son. He’s ever as I was at his age. I know his mischief.”

  “Shame on you, Mason,” Devonna scolded teasingly from nearby.

  LaMont chuckled once more, lifted Cassidy’s hand to his lips, and kissed it tenderly. “Never you fear, Miss Cassidy Shea, for the moment he has felt the sweetness of your kiss, he’ll be forever bewitched by you alone.”

  Again Cassidy was mortified at the teasing manner of the Carlisles. To openly mention such actions was beyond her understanding. And further, to make light of them! It was, she thought fleetingly, as if the entire family were made of the same stuff as Ellis.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, LaMont! Let the girl alone,” Devonna exclaimed, coming to sit next to Cassidy on the bed. “She’ll fairly flee from us as fast as her feet will carry her if you do not let her be.”

  LaMont chuckled warmly. “So be it then. Now,” he began, sitting back comfortably against his pillows once more, “say something to me, Miss Shea, that I may hear the melody of your voice. For I believe you’ve said not beyond five words to me since you entered my chamber.”

  Cassidy felt the hot blush of embarrassment rise to her cheeks as she felt every pair of eyes in the room intent upon her. For a moment she feared she might suddenly burst into tears and run from them all, unable to endure one more moment of this new situation in which she found herself. But when the great man that lay in the bed upon which she sat again drew her hand to his lips, patting her hand warmly after kissing it, she was encouraged.

  “What do you wish me to say, sir?” she managed to utter.

  “What do I wish you
to say, is it?” he mused. Then, glancing to his son, he answered, “Tell me of your thoughts when first you saw our young Mason.”

  Cassidy paused, glancing up quickly to find the intensity of Mason’s disapproving gaze fully on her. “I-I…could you make clearer known what you mean me to say?”

  LaMont Carlisle chuckled once more. “I mean you to say what initially your mind spoke to you when first you set eyes upon my son. Truthfully. Say it now to me.”

  Cassidy continued to pause, unwilling to speak her mind, for she did remember her very first thought of Mason Carlisle but was unsure how to convey it to the father without revealing too much to the son.

  “You’ve terrified her into silence, Father. She fears retribution at my hand for hearing her mind,” Mason mumbled.

  “Very well then, Mason,” Lord Carlisle continued, “for the fact that you’ve petrified her into silence, let us hear your first thought at laying eyes on this young dove. Come now, boy. Speak your mind.”

  Immediately Cassidy felt tears threatening to brim in her eyes. How well she already knew of his dislike of her. Could she endure hearing it spoken from his own lips?

  “I thought,” he began. Cassidy felt her breath cease for a moment as she waited for his next, no doubt, hurtful utterance. “Actually, my mind’s exact words were…in reality, Father, it would not be proper for me to quote my mind exactly, being that the ladies are present.” Cassidy held onto her emotions by only a thread. What did he mean to say of her? “Therefore I must need paraphrase my first thought thus. ‘There will be nothing distasteful in taking this luscious-looking girl to my…my…self.’”

  “Mason Carlisle!” Devonna exclaimed scoldingly.

  But LaMont Carlisle simply smiled, chuckling to himself again. “The boy merely speaks his mind, Dev. Rather edits the thoughts of his mind,” he said.

  Cassidy still sat in shocked contemplation of Mason’s revelation. She could not believe he had uttered such a declaration. Could it be that his first thought of her had been such? Surely he said only that which he knew his father wished to hear.