“But I heard them, Ellis. I heard them talking, he and Gabrielle. She offered herself to him. He refused, yes, but they had been involved…for years, it seems,” Cassidy confessed.
Ellis sighed heavily and chuckled. “Still eavesdropping, Cass? You know that Mother always told you that no good can come from overhearing part of a conversation that—”
“I heard the entire conversation, thank you, Ellis,” Cassidy defended herself, still blushing guiltily. “And if you have no information on his relationship with Gabrielle Ashmore, then how should I be inclined to believe the rest of what you have gleaned?”
“I do know of his association with Gabrielle Ashmore. They’ve known each other since they were children. Both are very attractive people. I would expect no less than a one-time attraction between them. He is a man after all, dear Cass. Would you expect him to ignore the fact as he waited seventeen years for you to grow up?”
“Yes!”
“No. I would consider no man to be a man were his attentions not captured by a beautiful, kindhearted woman during his bachelor years. And neither would you. For pity’s sake, Cassidy!” he exclaimed suddenly, seeming to lose patience for a moment. “You’ve lived in the same house with me all your life. I am a moral, upstanding man, and yet I have kissed my fair share of maidens, lost my heart to a beautiful woman, and yet…does it mean that I’ll not prove faithful and adoring to she who eventually captures my heart and soul entirely? Would it ever enter your mind, for one moment, that I would consider taking a woman to mistress?”
“No, of course not!”
“Then why can you not place the same faith in this man Carlisle? I’ve spent two weeks of my life, Cassidy…rather, wasted two weeks of my life, in an effort to defile his character—in an effort to prove him unworthy of you. And, my dear sister, though you may think it a traitorous remark, I deem him worthy. I find no fault with him other than those that accompany human nature itself.”
Cassidy closed her eyes for a moment, placing her hand protectively over her heart as she whispered, “You see then, Ellis…he is far too perfect for me. How can I ever hope to—”
At once she was in her brother’s warm embrace again. “No one is too perfect for you, Cass. Why not let the anguish in your heart and mind prove his worthiness to you? Would you love a man so deeply who was not all that he appeared to be, who was not a faithful, trustworthy, moral, and soundly good man?”
“In the instance of Mason Carlisle, I can no longer trust my good judgment, Ellis,” she admitted.
“Then trust in mine, dear sister. Trust only in mine.”
“Young Ellis Shea?” Devonna exclaimed as Ellis entered the library, Cassidy on his arm. “No! Certainly you cannot be young Ellis.”
“Milady Carlisle,” Ellis greeted with a bow, taking Devonna’s hand and kissing the back of it tenderly.
Cassidy was immediately astounded by the tears that were evident in Devonna’s eyes as she looked upon Ellis with love. “You’re the very vision of your father, young man, the very vision.”
“The greatest of compliments, milady, for it is said that my father is quite strikingly handsome.” Cassidy rolled her eyes in disbelief of her brother’s use of humor in the particular situation.
Lady Carlisle smiled and laughed somewhat nervously. “No less humble than your father as well. It’s good to have you, dear boy, and I know Cassidy looks upon you as her deliverer.”
“Thank you for allowing me to visit dear Cass. She and I have always been close. This will be a challenge for me…giving her up as I must,” Ellis remarked, gazing at Cassidy tenderly.
“There are far worse ways to give up a sister,” Devonna whispered, a tear trickling down her face. She brushed it from her face with a slow, graceful gesture of her delicate hand.
Cassidy felt an odd shiver travel up her back at Devonna’s utterance. There was something very meaningful in her words that Cassidy could not discern at that moment.
“Indeed, milady. It’s glad I am that I give her over to one such as Mason, for I hear great report of him. I hear also that he is away. I assume he will return before the grand event Saturday next.”
“Mercy! I’m certain he will have us all on our toes, no doubt choosing to arrive at the last possible moment.”
Mathias suddenly appeared from another room, lumbering in, panting delightedly, and jumping up to place his front paws firmly on Ellis’s stomach.
“A jolly man we have here,” Ellis chuckled, scratching behind the dog’s ears.
“No doubt he’s missing Mason as much as the rest of us. There’s no one to wrestle with him with Mason gone and my husband bedridden,” Devonna said, smiling.
“Well, I’ll give him a good go at it. But first, might I meet Lord Carlisle, milady? Or would another time be better?” Ellis asked.
“I have the strictest of orders to send you up as soon as you arrive, day or night,” Devonna answered.
Almost eerily, Havroneck entered the room. “His lordship has heard voices downstairs and begs to know what is about, milady.”
“Well, then…let us tell him! He hates to be left out, the poor boy. Come Ellis, Cassidy. LaMont will be beside himself with curiosity. It’s one of his less virtuous traits.”
Ellis and Lord Carlisle fell into easy conversation, and after some time, Cassidy felt as if she were imposing somehow. Therefore, she arose, kissed Lord Carlisle lightly on one brow, as well as her brother, and excusing herself, she left to ramble about the house. Mathias appeared and fell into step at her side.
“You silly dog,” Cassidy whispered, smiling and reaching down to scratch behind one of his black ears. “You miss your master, don’t you, boy?” The dog only continued to pant happily, matching her stride. Cassidy felt some security in the knowledge that Mason’s dog had accepted her.
The clouds had begun to gather in the skies, graying them ominously, and Cassidy resigned herself to spending a lonely hour reading in the library as she waited for Lord Carlisle to finish with her brother’s attentions. Somehow, simply knowing that Ellis was in the house gave her great comfort. Still, she marveled at the odd sense of loneliness that lingered in her bosom.
Upon entering the library, Mathias went directly to the large carpet that lay before the hearth. He nestled himself snugly upon it, stretching his front paws out before him, and solemnly placed his head on them.
“A book, a book, a book,” Cassidy mumbled to herself as she stood before one of the walls of grand bookcases packed with marvelous choices of reading. Suddenly, her eyes fell to the word “Poetry” blazoned in fine gold lettering down the spine of one book. As she reached for it, she noted there was quite a collection of poetry books along this particular shelf. Most were of famous authors, others unfamiliar to her. Gently she removed the book that first arrested her eyes. Immediately she noticed a piece of parchment marking a page in the book. Going to the sofa, she sat down and began reading.
’Tis time I told you true, my love…
The secrets of my heart.
The bold imaginations of
My mind’s clandestine chart.
’Tis time my mouth confesses
The want of yours to taste,
Your lip’s sublime caresses
Mine own with passion laced.
’Tis meant you are, forefated…
To warm within my arms,
To keep the dawn belated
The captive of love’s charms.
And have you, I most surely will,
Your body, mind, and soul.
And every want, desire fill…
For thus are we two whole.
Cassidy felt her cheeks turning crimson as she read the nearly inappropriate, rather intimate verse, to think someone would put to paper such intimate thoughts. Still, it was fascinating to read such perfectly penned emotion. As she began to turn the pages of the book, searching for another verse, the small bit of parchment slipped from the book and fel
l to the floor. Retrieving it to return it to its place, her attention was drawn to several handwritten lines.
I put not hand to you, I do not let my eyes linger on you, and I will not weaken toward you. For were I to touch you, to gaze upon your form and feature…I would be no more. Truth is thus—my mouth could quench not its thirst for yours…and who I am would be lost in the blissful sensation of your body near to mine.
Quickly Cassidy looked to the cover of the book to glean from it the name of its author. The name was unfamiliar to Cassidy, and she wondered, would her mother approve of her reading such epistles? Still, something in her curiosity, the romance natural in her woman’s heart, yearned to read the continuance of the verse quoted in pen on the slip of parchment. But as she carefully searched the remaining pages, she could find nothing to coincide with the handwritten verse.
“Oh, darling,” Ellis sighed heavily as he bent over Cassidy’s shoulders intent on seeing in what she was so engrossed. “Don’t tell me you’re lost in that sap again.”
“It’s not sap, Ellis. It’s someone’s thoughts, innermost heartfelt feelings put to pen and paper,” she scolded, closing the book quickly and returning it to the shelf.
“It’s sap.”
“Oh, Ellis. Haven’t you ever had things in your heart to say…things that…that your mouth couldn’t utter but that your mind could convey through your hand? I refuse to believe you’re as uncaring and insensitive as you’ve always pretended. Someday a woman will warm your heart, Ellis, and you’ll be as enslaved to her will as I am to—”
“Nonsense,” Ellis chuckled. “There’s no such woman on earth who could enslave my heart and mind.”
Cassidy shook her head at her brother’s pompous attitude. “Therein, your determination, will be your greatest undoing, brother,” she said, smiling.
“Anyway,” Ellis continued with an obvious change of subject, “I like the old fellow. His resemblance to Mason is rather striking, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Lord Carlisle is wonderful. I believe he accepted me instantly. I even, dare I say it…I even think he has favor in me.”
“Who wouldn’t, darling? Who wouldn’t?” Ellis kissed Cassidy affectionately on the forehead and then linked her arm with his own. “Now, take me on a grand tour of your castle, Milady Carlisle.”
“Your ill attempt at wit does not become you, brother,” Cassidy scolded, giggling. “But I will show you Carlisle Manor. We shall begin with the hall of portraits. There happens to be a certain pirate there that you cannot neglect laying eyes upon, especially since you insist upon singing the praises of his virtue.”
“Ah! Do you mean to say there’s an actual history in portrait of the notorious pirate Carlisle?”
“Indeed! And it is truly a sight to behold.”
As they stood before the grand portrait of Mason in pirate costume, a broad smile spread across Ellis’s face. “I knew I liked the lad. By George, the man had the tenacity to do what he wanted, did he not?”
“Apparently,” Cassidy muttered, awestruck as always by the sheer magnificence of Mason Carlisle’s appearance.
“I mean to say—look, Cass! Look at the gold-hooped earrings at his ears! It is fascinating to see him thus.” Ellis shook his head from side to side, admiringly amused. “He has given them up then—the earrings, I mean?”
“Yes,” Cassidy answered plainly. Then, upon reflection, a doubt entered her mind, and she added, “At least, I assume that he has.”
“They look valuable. Mayhap he could gift them to you upon your official betrothal.”
“Again, your wit lacks intelligence, Ellis,” Cassidy sighed exasperatedly.
Then, unsettled by a sudden wave of loneliness, Cassidy turned from the portrait of Mason the pirate and looked for the first time at the portrait hanging to the right. At that moment, Cassidy realized on every prior visit she had made to the portrait hall since arriving, her attention had been so obsessed with the pirate portrait, she had not viewed several other portraits hanging nearby.
“She is magnificent!” Ellis nearly whispered as he too gazed up at the previously unnoticed portrait of a woman.
“Yes. Her beauty is beyond realism,” Cassidy confirmed.
“Well, surely this is Mason’s mother. There can be no other explanation for the resemblance,” Ellis offered.
“One would assume. Yet this young woman is fair-haired, and Mason’s mother is dark.”
“But one’s hair often tends to darken with age.”
“Jillian Devonna Carlisle,” Cassidy read aloud from the nameplate on the portrait.
“You see! It is Mason’s mother then,” Ellis confirmed.
“Wouldn’t the inscription read ‘Jillian Devonna Something Carlisle’? Wouldn’t her maiden name be included here were it Mason’s mother?” Cassidy asked.
“Hmmm. Yes. Indeed it should,” Ellis confirmed. “You’ve heard no talk of Mason’s having a sister then?”
“No. Indeed, I’ve not met any such person or even heard tell of one.” The long silence that followed from Ellis captured Cassidy’s attention after a moment, and she turned to see him frowning rather mystified as he gazed on the portrait. “What is it, Ellis?” she asked.
“I’ve the oddest inner sensation, Cass…the sensation that I would have loved this girl,” he muttered.
A shiver traveled down Cassidy’s spine at his words. His gaze was so very sad and intense and his words so very soulful. “You speak so ominously suddenly, brother. Are you up to no good at trying to frighten me again?”
“No,” he said plainly.
“Then perhaps you can love her, Ellis. Perhaps she is still available and—”
“No, Cassidy.” Turning to her and lowering his voice, he continued, “Don’t you sense it? Don’t you see? There can be only one explanation. The portraits end here, after Mason and this young woman. There is space in the hall yet…for future portraits, and the way they all are hung thus far, it’s obvious it’s in order of generation and marriage and then children. Here, before Mason, are his parents together. Before that they are individually displayed…before that, Mason’s father as a boy. It stands to reason that this is Mason’s sister. The name would indicate it as well. Yet neither you nor I have seen her nor even heard her name spoken.”
“Disinherited? Never! Lord Carlisle and certainly Lady Carlisle are not so cold as to—”
“Not disinherited, Cass. Lost. Lost somehow.” Ellis turned to look at the portrait once more. “Remember what Milady Carlisle said only this morning when I arrived. ‘There are far worse ways to give up a sister,’ she said to me. Remember, Cass?”
“Her eyes were moist, and I felt certain it was because of your resemblance to Father. But now…why have we not heard mention of her, Ellis? If Mason has a sister, why have we not been told?”
“You forget, dear sister. There are many things that we have not been told.”
The vision of the lovely face from the painting seemed to haunt Cassidy’s dreams that night, disturbing her slumber, causing her to awaken feeling more fatigued than when she retired. Therefore, when Katie entered that morning for her usual visit, Cassidy asked her forthrightly the question both she and Ellis had asked each other the day before.
“Was Jillian indeed Mason’s sister, Katie?”
Katie seemed so stunned that she appeared to be unable to move for a moment. Her face paled, and her usually permanent smile disappeared from her lovely face.
“Is it so horrible as that to ask?” Cassidy inquired, for the girl did indeed seem stricken ill.
“You know, miss, that I try to keep nothing from you. That I try to serve you with all that I am and offer my sincerest friendship to you. You believe this of me, don’t you?” Katie asked in a hushed voice.
“Well…of course, Katie. I will press you no further for explanation, for I can see that it’s very upsetting to you.” Cassidy suddenly felt guilty for inquiring of Katie about the g
irl in the portrait. If one of the employees of Carlisle Manor were so thoroughly disturbed by her inquiry, then no doubt the Carlisle family would be also.
Katie cast her eyes to the floor for a moment. When she again looked to Cassidy, Cassidy was further unsettled and guilt-ridden, for the tears in her eyes were all too evident. “I count myself your friend, Miss Cassidy. I want you to know of my true affection, faith, and loyalty to you.” Then, lowering her voice to a barely audible whisper, Katie said, “Yes, there was a sister to your Mason, and her name was Jillian. It’s all I can reveal, miss. Please, don’t ask me of it again. I beg you.”
In that moment Cassidy realized the depth of Katie’s sincerity. The depth of her loyalty. Heretofore Katie had answered every question Cassidy had asked of her. She had ever offered only friendship and comfort. She had proven beyond any doubt that she would make the best of friends that Cassidy could ever hope for in life. She had done nothing but encourage and uplift Cassidy since she had arrived. And Cassidy, lost in her own grief and anxiety, had not appreciated Katie’s gift of friendship to her fully before that moment.
Taking Katie’s hands in her own for a moment, Cassidy whispered, “I’ll ask you no more of this, Katie, and I beg you to remain my friend. You’ve shown me only kindness, patience, and understanding, and I pledge my gratitude to you now. If I can ever return upon you half of what you’ve given me, it will not atone.”
“I wish, oh, I wish I could tell you more, miss—” Katie began.
But Cassidy raised her fingers to the girl’s mouth to hush her. “No, no. Speak no more of it, and please forgive me for asking. And you must call me Cassidy. I’ve no kinship to this Miss Shea that everyone here knows. I need someone to know me.”
Katie smiled and brushed a tear from her cheek. Then suddenly Cassidy was in the girl’s fond embrace and returned the hug intensely. She had a friend, a truer friend than she had ever had outside of Ellis. Her soul knew it.
“I’m ever your friend, Cassidy,” Katie told her. “But remember, I’m your personal maid as well, and you must let me perform my duties. Promise?”
Shackles of Honor Page 17