Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “You’ve never said as much to me, Mason. That is true. But I do love you. And I will do anything to keep a part of you within my grasp.” Gabrielle turned from him for a moment, and Cassidy watched as she took a deep breath and straightened her posture. “I have considered on this for some time, Mason. There’s an answer for us—an alternative.”

  “There is no ‘us,’ Gabrielle. I think you’ve sensed the change in my feelings at least for some time. You must understand now that—”

  “I will be mistress to you, Mason.” Cassidy had to put her hand over her mouth to stop the astonished gasp that wanted to be heard. Whirling back around to face him, Gabrielle rushed forward, clutching his shirt in her hands, her eyes pleading with his. “If I cannot have your name…at least I will have you.”

  Mason tugged at Gabrielle’s hands until she released his shirt. He held her trembling fists as she hung her head before him and sobbed. “A man who takes a woman to mistress does not love her. And that is truth.” His statement was spoken in an understanding, gentler tone. “And you don’t truly mean that. You would never follow through with such an idea. Furthermore, were I immoral enough that such considerations would even enter my head…were I enough of a devil to contemplate on such infidelity…still, I care too much for you, Gabrielle, to so fully pollute your soul. You know I would never lend myself to such iniquity, and I know the same is true for you.”

  Gabrielle sniffled and sobbed, shaking her head, not wanting to take in what he had told her. “I would do it, Mason. To have you I would.” She paused, her tear-stained face frantic in its pleading expression. She was a woman whose heart was breaking. “Is it then, Mason, any less wrong for you to take that child to your bed solely because it is legal in the eyes of the law?”

  Cassidy could discern the tightness in the set of Mason’s mouth. His jaw was firmly clenched in the moments before he spoke. “Hang the law, Gabrielle. It’s legal in the eyes of heaven’s morality. That makes all the difference, and well you know it.”

  Cassidy trembled uncontrollably as she studied briefly the powerful body of Mason Carlisle, the almost heartless expression on his face, and the cold, dark depths of his eyes. In merely the span of a few months she would be at his mercy, expected to sacrifice herself to his will. She wondered for a moment what it would be like to be the object of his attentions, to be in his arms so intimately. Gabrielle’s next words interrupted Cassidy’s anxious thoughts.

  “You’ll not draw satisfaction from your marriage to her on any grounds, Mason. She’s incapable of being your equal, and you need a strong woman, a woman who answers every aspect of your character and being…a woman who does not fear you, does not grovel at your feet like a tamed kitten. Strength in a woman is what you need—strength, beauty, and desire.” Once again Gabrielle put her hand to Mason’s cheek. Her gaze was that of nothing less than a desperate attempt at seduction.

  “Then you have only confirmed that you’re not the woman I need, Gabrielle. For you’ve criticized me for my moral value, for my adherence to the duties of honor. These are perhaps the only admirable qualities I own.” He fairly glared at her as he growled the words.

  “You’re not impervious to human weakness, Mason. You will change your mind. I know you will.” She dropped her hand from his frowning face and wiped at the tears on her cheeks with the back of one gloved hand.

  “If you can think that of me, Gabrielle…then you’ve known nothing of me these many years.” They stood facing each other, the man glaring and the woman sobbing, an expression of intense loss on her lovely countenance. “I promise you that I will not change my mind. As well I promise that you will. I’m not the man for you. Whether by my own hand or that of fate…it’s not me that you truly want.”

  “Curse you,” she muttered, her body wracked with violent sobbing. “Curse your honor and duty, your morality in spirit and body.” Inhaling deeply once more, she straightened her posture as she looked at him. “I wish you to know that I openly mock this girl you intend to wed. I gladly will watch her suffer. And she will suffer. For though she may possess your name, though your posterity may be born of her, though she may at times possess your attentions, your desire…she will not possess your heart. And without your heart, you’ll never truly be hers. In that knowledge…she’ll live a lifelong agony, an affliction of the soul.”

  “Curse me if you will,” he growled, even more angry than before. “But don’t revel in such assumption, for the girl fairly trembles in frustration, anger, and trepidation at the mere sight of me. So do not attempt to render comfort to your mind and heart by supposing that her pride will be as broken as yours is this moment.”

  “You heartless brute,” Gabrielle whispered, struggling to calm herself. “You accuse me of seeking after your position and wealth, do you not?” Pulling a small handkerchief from the cuff of her sleeve, she dabbed at the tears on her cheeks. “Wed her then.” She straightened her posture once more and looked at him defiantly. “Wed her and take her into your bed. And each time you take the child into your arms, you’ll see in her eyes of whatever color they may be her yearning to own your heart. You must at least care for me, and you will think of me and how much more delightsome it would have been were it me there.”

  “You’re mistaken in that, Gabrielle. Vastly mistaken.” It was apparent that he was vexed with her hardness of words and perhaps the intimacy of the subject. Cassidy could see the anger in his eyes—the emotion that dominated his existence. “I’ve wounded you, and I am sorry. I…I truly didn’t realize that you felt so strongly. I hope that inasmuch as you have the grace not to resent and produce consequence of it toward this girl I must marry…I would hope that you have as much grace to forgive me. Someday.”

  “Such grace in forgiveness may not exist.” Turning from him, Gabrielle fled through the garden and out of sight.

  Cassidy stood watching as Mason closed his eyes. Raising one powerful hand to his temples, he let go a heavy sigh of discouragement and strode angrily away through the dense rose garden. Cassidy was left alone and able to breathe more easily. Instantly Cassidy sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands. It was all too overwhelming! She had herself witnessed their secret rendezvous. If there had been any doubt in her mind prior to witnessing them together—any minuscule grain of doubt that they were perhaps only acquaintances and not lovers—whatever doubt may have existed was banished brutally by what she had seen and overheard.

  Certainly, Mason seemed to be well intentioned. After all, he had told Gabrielle that their relationship was at an end. However, he was obviously a masculine, powerful young man, and what man of normal breeding could resist Gabrielle Ashmore?

  And they had shared kisses. They had spoken of it and shared in each other’s affections. She could only wonder how deeply. Mason Carlisle’s kiss! It was astounding and quite difficult to even try to imagine his kissing at all. Cassidy wondered—were his kisses mean, powerfully demanding, or gently passionate?

  Fairly leaping to her feet, Cassidy shook her head violently, attempting to rid herself of such thoughts. It was unendurable to envision Mason with another woman, especially Gabrielle Ashmore! Walking was her only escape, and she did for long hours. The sun rose high in the sky before she finally stopped pacing about the massive gardens. She reached the banks of a lovely, large lake. Several beautiful and graceful swans floated serenely over the water’s surface. Cassidy approached a young willow tree providing shade nearby. Sitting down in the soft, fragrant grasses beneath, she leaned back against the firm trunk.

  Knowledge weighed heavily upon her mind and heart. Many emotions, frustrations, and obstacles whirled about her. There was too much change. She felt greatly fatigued. She could no longer think on it all, could not ponder further her future, her fate, her feelings. Her eyelids felt as though they were made of lead; her limbs were weak and numb. Slowly she lay down on her side in the soft grass beneath the tree, placing her hands under her cheek to rest for only a moment. The breeze was warm
and fragrant—the scent of lilac, iris, and pansy soothing. The sound of the willow swaying in the breeze was a lullaby of nature.

  It seemed only moments had passed when she sensed a presence nearby. Slowly she opened her heavy eyelids and realized two boots stood in the grass beside her. She gasped as she pulled herself to a sitting position and gazed up into the angry, rather piratish expression of Mason Carlisle.

  “Mother is beside herself,” he stated gruffly. “It’s nearly four hours since you were last seen.”

  “I…I was merely walking and then sat here to rest. I suppose I must’ve…” Cassidy began awkwardly. Mathias came bounding up from behind his master and sat happily on his haunches, tongue hanging out as he panted, giving him the appearance of ignorant bliss.

  “Please have the consideration to inform someone of your walking plans next time, would you?”

  “I didn’t think I would be missed. I only wanted some fresh air and sun.” She felt her body and mind preparing to do battle with him. She would not give up her privacy simply because she was betrothed to a great hulking brute.

  “Of course you were missed! The entire world revolves around you of recent! I suspect it always has. How could you expect to slip away unnoticed?” He was angry with her for no reason that she could discern.

  “I perceive all too well your inference, Mr. Carlisle! Do not accuse me of being spoiled. The world does not revolve around me, nor has it ever done so. In fact, I would venture to say that the world has revolved around none other than you! Everyone jumps when you enter the room. Your every whim is attended to as if it were the most important historic event of the century. And please!” she exclaimed. “For pity’s sake! There hangs in your family’s portrait gallery a painting of you as a pirate!” His jaw tightened, and the muscles in his forearms bulged visibly beneath his shirt as his hands clenched themselves into hardened fists. “I create no such havoc upon entering a room. Nor have I ever had any inclination toward adventure.”

  “More is the pity,” he grumbled. “Then ours shall be a very dreary existence indeed.” Reaching down, he took hold of her arm, pulling her to her feet forcibly. “Come along now. The dear Ashmore family did not get their fill of your…charms last evening. Or at least Lady Ashmore did not. She somehow managed another invitation from my mother. Lord and Lady Ashmore, Corbel, and Gabrielle are to dine with us again.”

  Again? Must she endure Gabrielle’s attentions to Mason again, and this time with no support of her own? Her mother had abandoned her completely, and it was unclear how long it would be before Ellis would arrive to champion her.

  “I’m not ignorant enough to believe that it is an interest in me that brings them here once more,” she said, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Nor am I blind. Do not insult me any further by feigning ignorance of your own as to their interest.” Haughtily she turned from him and began to walk away.

  His hands were at her shoulders in the next moment, and she found herself being spun quickly around to face him. “Enough of this!” he shouted. “I’m far too old to be playing such games, Miss Shea. As are you. I am your betrothed. You are mine. Nothing will change it. It will go on. We will be wed and bound to each other. Fight me all you want, but in the end I will triumph!”

  “Triumph?” she squeaked out. “What mean you by ‘triumph’?”

  “I will be victorious. I will win, to put it plainly. You’ll become my wife—live out your life with me. The children you bear will be mine and own my name. There will be no Gavin Clark to come to your rescue. There will be only me. When you wake in the morning, it will be in my bed. When you eat your meals, it will be my face you see across the table from yours. It will be my hands that unfasten the buttons of your gown in the evening. My diamonds and gold will grace the curve of your throat. My wealth will feed and clothe you. My wells will quench your thirst. The night you agreed to wed me…the moment you stepped foot in my father’s house…you became mine. And I will own you completely! So stop this childish bantering, accept what you have chosen to do, and do it graciously!”

  “Had you a sister, would you let her give herself up…surrender her very essence so easily as you demand that I do it?” Cassidy asked in a whisper.

  His eyes narrowed, and he seemed confused for a moment. Looking away from her then, he released her shoulders and said eerily, “Go to the house and ease my mother’s worry regarding your safety. Go to the house, and speak no more to me this day.”

  He gestured for her to precede him while he lagged behind her, Mathias ever at his heels, as they walked toward the house.

  

  Cassidy humbly informed Lady Carlisle of her return and apologized for causing her concern. Still sensing Mason’s anger, she moved past him quickly, casting her eyes to the floor. Upon entering her chamber and closing the door, an overwhelming emotional fatigue overtook her. She lay upon her bed for some time trying to ease her tired mind.

  “What is it that you said to Mr. Mason then, miss?” Katie asked in a whisper as she suddenly appeared in Cassidy’s chamber.

  “What do you mean, Katie?” Cassidy asked, sitting up quickly.

  “Well, his mother sent him out to find you. She was worried, you know…being that you were gone for so very long this afternoon. When he returned, he and Lady Carlisle were in conversation in the study when suddenly Mr. Mason burst from the room and shouted at the top of his lungs, ‘Prepare my mount! I shall call for Lord Ashmore and his family myself!’ His mother followed him. It was obvious he was vexed. Lady Carlisle took his arm in a gesture meant to calm him. Then he said…” Katie paused, as if she only just realized to whom she was speaking and thought better of continuing.

  “Go on, Katie. Don’t end the tale now. What transpired?” Cassidy prodded.

  “Well, miss, he…he… ‘The tongue of the cruelest of serpents is in that girl’s mouth,’ he said to his mother. Milady scolded him, but he went on with his accusation. ‘Would you that she should cut my heart out and grind it into the ground beneath her boot, Mother?’ he shouted. But then he took note of my presence and sent me to attend you, miss.”

  “I’ve vexed him terribly this time, I’m certain. Though I cannot specify what remark I made that unnerved him so,” Cassidy muttered. A certain sickness of guilt rose in her stomach, and she wondered if she would be able to face him. Why was she so hateful toward him? He was as trapped as she was, after all. Some of the things he said to her in their arguing had simply spurred her on to battle. Now she felt only great remorse at saying such hateful things to him. She had, in essence, sent him running back into the arms of Gabrielle Ashmore.

  Standing before the looking glass, she barely contained the tears in her eyes that begged for release. Her hair was terribly untidy, being that she had been out in the breezes all day and slept beneath the willow. Her shoulders rather slumped, and her face was far from refreshed.

  “How can I sit at the same table with her and expect to…” she mumbled.

  “Now, don’t despair, miss,” Katie chirped. “A cool cloth for your face and a fresh, delicate dress will do the trick.”

  Within a short time, Cassidy was looking at herself in the glass again. The dress of brilliant red accentuated perfectly the bright color of her cheeks and lips. Her eyes seemed to sparkle all the more as they reflected the color of the gown. Cassidy’s shoulders were bare, the soft ivory of her skin pronounced further by the daring cut and color of the dress.

  “He’ll not be able to take his eyes from you now, miss,” Katie whispered with a smile as she twisted one long lock of Cassidy’s hair around her finger, letting it fall delicately down Cassidy’s back.

  “Mother does not approve of this red on me,” Cassidy commented.

  “Your mother isn’t here. Even so, I’m sure that this once…she would.”

  Irritatedly Cassidy rubbed at the small brown mole at the corner of her mouth. “I wish this would just fade away. It’s so unbecoming,” she complained.

  “I disagree, m
iss. I always wanted my own mark of beauty just where yours is now.”

  Cassidy turned and smiled. “You’re so encouraging, Katie. Thank you.” There was a knock on the chamber door, and Katie raised her eyebrows.

  “That would be your own Prince Charming just now,” she giggled quietly.

  “Charming, yes. But alas…would that the master were as charming as the princely dog that is always and forever bouncing at his heels,” Cassidy said, smiling.

  Inhaling deeply in search of some sort of courage, Cassidy opened the door to find Mason standing before her, frowning and ominous as always. There sitting next to him, as ever, was his happy companion, Mathias.

  “Are you ready to go down to dinner?” Mason asked. Cassidy felt the thrill of achievement as his eyes traveled the length of her quickly and thoroughly. His expression was not disapproving, nor that of shock—rather that expression of physical approval that a man unintentionally reveals at seeing a woman in all the glory of her beauty.

  “Yes” she answered, hesitantly taking the arm he offered. Cassidy felt almost more than acceptable as she was led down the staircase on the arm of the dashing Mason Carlisle. But as they approached the dining room and she heard the voices of guests raised in happy conversation, she began again to doubt herself. She slowed her step and felt less like holding her shoulders straight.

  “Come now, Miss Shea. These people are no longer strangers. Surely they do not intimidate you still?” he mumbled somewhat daringly.

  Cassidy glanced up at him and was momentarily struck dumb by the sheer magnificence of his perfect countenance. Certainly she should be used to seeing such a man as he in her proximity by now. Still, there were moments when his attractiveness, his dominating, powerful presence, startled her.

  “They all find you quite intriguing, Miss Shea. Quite pleasing to look upon,” he encouraged in a rather awkward manner, as if trying to verbalize a heartening compliment were the most difficult thing in the world for him to do.

  “I’m not so inane as to believe that remark, Mr. Carlisle,” she couldn’t help but mutter in a whisper.