Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Syndle said with a curtsy.

  “Oh, Cylia!” Devonna exclaimed upon seeing Cassidy and her mother seated at the table. “Darling! I’m certain Cassidy is quite relieved to have her family surrounding her once more. Though I hope that one day she will look upon us as family as well.”

  “Dev,” Cylia greeted, standing and hugging her friend, an affectionate kiss on the cheek passing between them. “Cassidy looks wonderful. You’ve taken good care of my baby.”

  “As if she were my own daughter,” Devonna said, and Cassidy noted the odd way in which her own mother smiled understandingly. Whatever had happened to Devonna’s daughter? she wondered again. So many secrets in the two families. Too many.

  “Devonna!” Cassidy’s father exclaimed from the doorway upon entering the morning room in front of Mason and a well-dressed but rather sleepy-looking Ellis. “You look divine, Dev. Divine!”

  “Calvert!” Devonna chimed, going to Cassidy’s father. Cassidy was astonished as the two embraced comfortably, not unlike Lord Carlisle and her mother had upon their first arrival. “You don’t look a day older, dear!”

  “Come now, Mother. Your art of flattery needs tuning,” Mason grumbled as he pushed past them and took his seat at the table next to Cassidy as Ellis held her chair for her.

  “Good morning, love,” Ellis mumbled, kissing Cassidy affectionately on one cheek.

  “Come,” Devonna said, ignoring Mason’s black mood. “Let us breakfast and discuss the gifts.”

  “Yes,” Cylia agreed. “Have you decided on anything, Cassidy?”

  “She has not put thought to it,” Mason answered for her. “Or so she claims.”

  “It seems ridiculous to have to ask for a gift,” Cassidy stated. “What kind of a gift is it if it is requested and expected? Not a gift at all. Rather a purchase price in my view.”

  “Hear, hear, Cass,” Ellis exclaimed.

  “Ellis, enough,” Calvert scolded.

  “With her family, she becomes a spitfire once more,” Mason again mumbled.

  “Darling, it’s tradition! An engagement present given to you at Mason’s hand and a gift from yours to him,” Devonna argued.

  “Oh dear, milady,” Ellis interrupted. “You’ve hit the wasp’s nest with a stick now. Cassidy does not go in for thoughtless gifts.”

  “It will not be thoughtless. It will be an engagement present,” Devonna argued delightedly.

  “Forgive me, milady,” Cassidy began, “but some temporal, expensive gift to show the world the wealth of our families and our shallow attempt at pleasing each other? If there must be some token for the world to see, then I leave it to you to decide for him what to present to me. As for my gifting him something…we have already this day discussed it, and there is nothing he wants of me.”

  “Nothing that can be given at the breakfast table anyway,” Mason mumbled. His eyes caught Cassidy’s for a moment, and she fancied they were taunting her.

  “Bravo, my man!” Ellis chuckled. Cassidy thought she saw a slight grin pass between the two young men.

  “Mason Carlisle! Such outrageous and inappropriate remarks!” Devonna scolded.

  “What mean you, Mother? I mean only that cook has instructed Syndle into piling too many pastries on the table. There is no room for gift exchange here.” Mason countered. Still, Ellis’s eyes twinkled merrily and with greater understanding at Mason. “Breakfast is superb, Syndle,” Mason complimented the young maid as she brought yet another tray of pastry to the table.

  “Thank you, Mr. Mason. I shall inform cook that you are pleased,” she said, her eyes sparkling with his reflection. Cassidy’s bosom began to burn with indignation and jealousy as she watched the young maid, the recipient of one of Mason’s rare approving smiles.

  “Well, if I may speak for you, dear sister,” Ellis began, pausing to bite and swallow a morsel of pastry, “Cassidy’s gift has been taken care of already. Is that not right, darling?” Cassidy’s eyes widened as she looked at her brother, for she had no knowledge whatsoever of having chosen or even considered a gift for Mason.

  “Yes, of course, darling. We did bring it with us,” her father chimed in, winking conspiratorially at her.

  “Really?” Mason asked, looking at her knowingly. “I thought it had been here all the while.”

  “Mason LaMont Carlisle! Do not think me ignorant. I am, after all, well acquainted with your father, from whom all your teasing manner springs,” Devonna scolded quietly to him.

  “Yes, Mother,” Mason sighed. Ellis continued fighting to restrain his own laughter.

  “I will encourage Cassidy to decide on something expediently,” Cylia said, placing a comforting arm at her daughter’s shoulder.

  “Then we move on to the ball. I will expect the first guests to arrive near three tomorrow afternoon. And Mason will announce his own betrothal, being that his father is too ill to attend,” Devonna stated. Cassidy glanced quickly to Mason, wondering if he would indeed follow through with presenting her to the multitudes as his intended bride.

  The idle chatter, for it all seemed quite frivolous to Cassidy, went on and on through the morning meal and nearly to lunch before everyone left the morning room for various tasks. Cassidy stole away to her own room after a while and stood gazing upon her beautiful ball gown, unable suddenly to accept the concept of being officially betrothed to Mason Carlisle.

  The gown was indeed beautiful—brown silk with delicate ecru laces at the bodice, sleeves, and skirt. It was similarly cut at the neckline as the infamous red dress that Cassidy had sworn never to wear again, dipping low, yet not too revealing, in the front and slipping elegantly off her shoulders at the sleeves. It all seemed overwhelming. Cassidy collapsed onto the chair before her vanity and began redressing her hair.

  She tried to envision Mason escorting her into the grand dance hall—tried to envision an effectively deceitful smile of joy as he announced their betrothal—tried to imagine being in his arms as they danced together. It was tradition for the betrothed couple to begin the ball, just as engagement gifts were exchanged as tradition. Oh, to be in his arms! She could still imagine the masculine, delightful scent that was about him. She could conjure up what it must feel like to lose her fingers in the softness of his hair, to once more feel the delight of his roughly shaven face on the flesh of her shoulders and neck. Would he treat her well then? For all the world to see, would he champion her pride? Would she be able, for a few blissful hours, to imagine that he accepted her, desired her, had chosen her?

  There was a knock on her chamber door. “Yes?” she called out, her voice nearly failing her with the battle of restrained emotion.

  “It’s Katie, Miss Cassidy.”

  “Oh, come in, Katie. Do come in.”

  Cassidy felt the undeniable choking of withheld emotion in her throat once more. It was obvious that Katie immediately sensed her friend’s anguish, for she closed the door quietly behind her and came to stand at Cassidy’s back, looking in the mirror over her shoulder. “Come now, miss. What is it then? We have said we are friends. Even for my low estate.”

  “There is nothing low about you, Katie. And I do call you friend. My only friend in fact.” Cassidy fought to restrain her tears—fought to keep silent, not wanting to admit to anyone, even herself, what was making her so miserable. “It is just that I know I cannot be happy in this marriage, Katie. I…I’m beginning to wonder if I have the strength to endure the circumstances of it.”

  Katie looked away for a moment as if feeling guilty somehow. Then quietly she stated, “Because the feeling in you for the man is one of burning need and desire and not that of dislike or even indifference.” Katie stated her words as if there were no doubt in her mind of their factuality.

  Cassidy drew in a surprised breath at the girl’s remark, but she could say nothing, do no more than stare at the girl in astonishment.

  “You want to be in his arms, held warm against the strength of his body. You want to hear hi
m whisper your name with such a longing for you that you can hear the madness in his voice…to be drawn helplessly to you the way the sailors are bewitched by the whispering of the sea…to have him kiss you with such passion and desire that you know his love for you is endless, eternal. You want to see in his eyes that you alone own his heart…that you alone light the spark within him that makes his life worth living.”

  Cassidy stared at the girl for long moments before finally breathing, “Yes.” She was astounded at the girl’s insight—at her perfect way with words, which put into the air the thoughts that had been pinned up in her heart and mind. Closing her eyes for a moment, she let the tears rush from her eyes, moistening her cheeks.

  “You’ve been in love with him ever so long, haven’t you, Cassidy?” Katie’s question was so forthright that it almost hurt Cassidy’s ears, and she put her hands over them for a moment.

  Shaking her head, as more tears streamed down her cheeks, she said, “I don’t know! I don’t know! Almost from the first moment, I think.” She put a hand to her throat, for she felt she would not be able to breathe much longer for the constricting emotions rising in it. “I…I tried not to. I swear I did. I fought it.” Then, trying to withhold uncontrollable sobbing, she cried, “He has but barely taken notice of me! I have no power to tempt him even! Nothing could even begin to capture his attention. Save that evil red.” Struggling for breath, she gasped, “She was right. Oh! How horribly correct she was when…when…”

  “Who, Cassidy? You need to sit down. You’ll cause yourself a faint, miss.” As Katie helped a violently trembling Cassidy to sit on the nearby bed, she again inquired, “What are you talking about? Who was correct?”

  “Gabrielle…Gabrielle Ashmore.” Cassidy tried to control her trembling body, which was now wracked with the gasping breaths that accompanied tumultuous sobbing. “She…she said I would suffer beyond endurance for lack of owning his heart. She said that every time he looked into my eyes, he would see in them my yearning to own his love. And he will! For I fear that as time goes on, I’ll not be able to hide it as I have thus far.”

  “Perhaps you should not fight so viciously to hide it.”

  Cassidy looked at Katie, completely in awe at the suggestion. “What? You mean…”

  “Let him see himself in your heart. For I doubt very much, miss, that he is the callous, hardhearted man he pretends to be.” The sympathy was obvious on Katie’s face as Cassidy tried to digest her words.

  “I’ll not burden him with the knowledge, Katie. For it would burden him. I too think him a good man. And a good man would eventually be eaten away by the guilt of knowing my misery.” Brushing the tears from her cheeks, Cassidy stood and straightened her posture.

  “I’ve always known it was a large trial being born into great wealth and position. But never before have I realized what an affliction it could be,” Katie nearly barked. She seemed suddenly vexed.

  “What do you mean by that?” Cassidy demanded.

  “When I knew that I loved my Tommy, I confessed it to him, knowing that the consequences of his perhaps rebuking and refusing me would be only my burden to bear. But you have so much more to think about other than yourself, don’t you? Your parents, Mason’s parents, Mason himself. If Tommy had spurned me, we simply would’ve gone our separate ways. Yes, my heart would’ve been crushed to the dust of the earth…but somehow our lives would’ve gone on. But if you were to confess to Mason, and he refused and rebuked you, you still would have to live with him…endure the knowledge for the rest of your life. For your freedom—though you be royalty compared to my position—your freedom to escape has been stripped from you.”

  Cassidy nearly glared at the girl. “Perhaps. But even though he does not love me…he will be mine. Some of him will always belong to me. And though it sounds masochistic…I have comfort in that.”

  “Forgive my impertinence,” Katie suddenly apologized, and Cassidy was irritated with her own tone of voice.

  “It’s me who is the unstable one here, Katie. I know that of myself.” Then a curious question burst from her lips. “So you have a secret beau, Katie. That’s wonderful that he shared in your love. But why have you and Thomas not married yet?”

  Katie sighed heavily and went about nervously straightening the items on Cassidy’s vanity. She shook her head and gave a little laugh before answering. “I guess I’m a fine one to be scolding, aren’t I?” She ceased her busywork and looked guiltily to Cassidy. “Pride, pure and simple. Tom and I don’t earn enough even together to afford our own home. He…he feels somehow weak for it and will not marry me until he can remedy that situation.”

  Cassidy was silent and thoughtful. “Does Mr. Mason not pay you well enough?”

  “He pays quite well. Better than any household for counties. But it must need be that Thomas provide for his mother and sisters. His father passed many years ago, and his mother was left without means. As well, property is so expensive. It would cost more to maintain property of our own as well as his mother’s…more than we are able to afford.”

  Cassidy smiled and brushed at her tears. “Then we are in the same stewpot in a way, Katie. I cannot have the love of the man I want for the reason of wealth, and you cannot have the man you want for the lack of it.” At once, at that very moment, she knew what she must ask as a gift from Mason, and it comforted her. “Come now, Katie. Let us decide what I must do with this irreverent hair of mine for this ordeal tomorrow.”

  

  The day passed quickly, too quickly for Cassidy to wear herself down enough for good sleep that night. Once more she found herself in the library at an odd hour. Mason was ever in her thoughts. Not that he had left them when he had ridden away a fortnight ago, but now he was home, and she could feel his presence in the house, even though he seemed to be avoiding her, for she did not see him again that day.

  So late that night in the library when all else was quiet, Cassidy took down the book she had thumbed through on the prior evening. But where was the parchment with the handwritten verse? It was nowhere, gone from the book. She feared that in her nervous preoccupation she had misplaced it. For some reason her appetite for the book diminished when she realized the loss, and she simply stood before the fire.

  “You’re still awake, my dove,” came a voice from behind her. She first fancied it was Mason’s voice but then realized it was that of Lord Carlisle.

  “Sir, should you be about? And at this hour?” Cassidy asked.

  “I often prowl about at night. Devonna would whip me if she knew…for it weakens me all the more. But I’ve always been a man of great physical urgency, and a bed is unfulfilling for my mind, no matter what my body may tell me.” He sat down in the large chair near the fire, pulling his robe tightly about him. “Are you comforted now that your family has arrived, my dove?”

  “Will you take offense, milord, if I answer yes?” Cassidy ventured.

  Lord Carlisle chuckled. “Not at all, dear Cassidy! Not at all.” He coughed several times, and Cassidy knelt at his side, concerned. “Oh, how you do cheer me. Mason is such a sour lemon these days, and Devonna is too often worried about me to be able to make me laugh so.” He sighed heavily and rested his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. “Your father looks well. As does your mother. They are great people. Your father is the best of men and your mother the best of women.”

  “You seem to regard them highly, yet…” Cassidy began.

  Lord Carlisle opened his eyes and smiled at her, placing a hand beneath her chin. “In good time, my dove, all will be revealed—in good time.” He closed his eyes once more and seemed to fall into a restful slumber.

  Feeling somewhat comforted, Cassidy rose, placed a nearby quilt over his lap, and turned to leave the room.

  “He thinks Mother and I are ignorant of his nighttime ramblings about the house,” Mason said as he met her at the doorway, startling her so that her heart nearly stopped, she fancied.

  “He’s a great man—a man of
great physical power—and I’m certain it is hard for him to be bedridden,” Cassidy responded, moving past Mason.

  He caught her arm and stayed her. “Here,” he said, leading her out of the library completely and closing the door so as not to disturb his father. “This nuisance of an engagement gift must be rectified at once. It’s traditional for you to receive my gift the day after the official engagement ceremonies. You must decide…” Then, changing his manner to that of humility, he said, “Please. Please decide on something so that, if nothing else, our mothers will be satisfied.”

  “I…I have already decided on…on something, sir,” she informed him quietly. She was distracted, for he appeared unusually fatigued, his hair somewhat mussed and dark circles beneath his eyes. It unnerved her greatly, and she thought he was perhaps unwell.

  “Well?” he grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to give some semblance of uniformity once more.

  “Well, what?” she asked. Then, upon his sighing heavily with impatience, she said, “Actually, I…I…I’ve done as you asked. I’ve settled upon this ridiculous engagement gift that you and your mother are so determined that I receive.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. I…I’ve decided…well, it’s rather difficult to explain my reasoning, I suppose. But you did say it could be anything of my desire, did you not?”

  “I did.”

  “Very well. To put it plainly…” she still stammered.

  “Plainly is the most desirable way to put things,” he prodded. Still she hesitated. “Come now, girl. Let us have out with it. Can it be so expensive as to have tied your tongue in knots?”

  “Well…I pause only because it’s…it’s something that is rather…” Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and simply blurted the information to him. “It is my greatest desire that you increase Thomas Whitney’s salary and position so that he and Katie may at last wed.”

  The great and heavy silence that hung tangibly in the air finally caused Cassidy to open one eye tentatively and look up at Mason, who stood before her with a puzzled frown.