“Have they gone?” she asked in the smallest of whispers. Still he did not answer her, and she saw his attention being drawn to her mouth. Self-consciously, for she’d always despised the silly little brown spot at her upper lip, which gave the appearance she hadn’t napkined well after chocolate pudding, she quickly raised one hand to the area, covering it with her fingers and glancing down shyly.
Immediately he brushed her hand from the place and, cupping her face in his hand, caressed the small brown fleck with his thumb. One corner of his mouth curled up with amusement, and she saw his lips part slightly as he bent and placed his mouth to the darkened freckle over and over again. Trifler, Cassidy thought to herself. She secretly begged him to take her lips with his own. She felt as if she would scream should he withhold his true and complete kiss from her one breath longer. Had she the courage, which she did not, she could have turned her face a fraction and instantly have his kiss on her lips. But she was a coward. Her pride had been stripped sorely this night already, and should he retreat with distaste, it would be completely dissolved. His kiss brushed the corner of her mouth once, and she shivered visibly in his arms.
At long last then, he let his mouth hover just above her own. His breath was hot and divine on her cheek, and he whispered, “Pride goeth before the fall, Miss Shea.”
She felt him move closer. At last! she wanted to shout. At last his kiss would be hers!
“Mason Carlisle!” Gabrielle gasped. Cassidy watched with wrenching disappointment, her quickened breathing betraying her excitement and discontentment at having not had his mouth to hers, as Mason straightened to his full height and looked beyond her to Gabrielle.
“Mason Carlisle! Where are those impeccable manners on which you pride yourself?” Gabrielle’s tone was all too jolly and friendly. It was obvious to Cassidy, even without having seen the woman’s expression, that she was vexed at finding them such.
“He’s a hound, Miss Shea. Complete and utter,” another young woman giggled.
Cassidy looked up to Mason for a moment before turning to face the audience that had just come upon them in the garden. He shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows as if indifferent to their opinion. Cassidy then gently pushed herself from Mason’s arms and turned to face the women.
“You would do well to remain chaperoned from now on, Miss Shea, with such a character for your betrothed.” This young woman batted her sultry eyes at Mason, and Cassidy was nauseated by the obvious flirt.
“Come now, Miss Shea. You come along with us,” Gabrielle said, stepping forward and taking Cassidy’s arm. “We’ll protect you from that brute of a man. Though…your color has quite returned. You looked simply pallid when you left the room a moment ago.” She looked up to Mason, venom apparent in her eyes. “And you,” she scolded him. “You run along and bury a bone or something, you beast.”
Cassidy quickly glanced back at Mason as she walked forward and away from him with the other young women. He was straightening his cravat, and she was quite astonished when he nodded his head and winked at her victoriously.
Several minutes later, she found herself receiving a glass of refreshment at the east end of the ballroom, completely surrounded by young, unbetrothed ladies that were firing questions at her with the velocity of a hailstorm.
“Is he simply the most attentive lover?” one young woman asked.
Cassidy could only stammer her uninformative responses, for the venom was fairly seeping from Gabrielle’s eyes as she glared at her. “I…I…he is honorable to a fault. Really, he is,” she stammered.
“Mason Carlisle is simply the most attractive man ever born on earth,” another young woman offered. All the young ladies nodded and made noises of complete agreement.
“You’re quite lucky,” another young woman offered. “We…well…if truth be told…we were all only this evening speculating as to whether or not this was an arranged marriage. But it’s obvious that if it is…well, shall we say it is obvious that it suits Mason perfectly.”
Cassidy looked quickly to Gabrielle. The venom in her eyes seemed to be diluting a bit. At that moment, the music started again. Most of the young ladies were asked for a dance and vanished as quickly as they had arrived. Ominously, it was Gabrielle with whom Cassidy found herself alone.
“You’ve not told anyone?” Cassidy blurted out.
“That this was arranged, you mean?” Gabrielle clarified.
“Yes.”
“I see no reason to make this harder on Mason than it already is.” Gabrielle straightened her posture and looked away for a moment.
“Then you’re truly a woman of character…for I know that you are she whom he sacrifices because of his duty.” Cassidy was immediately horrified that she had let the words slip from her lips. Now it would be assured to Gabrielle that she had been eavesdropping on their conversation that day in the gardens.
“You know that I…that he…” Gabrielle stammered. Her eyes were now soft and emotional.
Cassidy could see that this woman was wholly in love with Mason Carlisle—that her heart had been broken by his need to see his duty through, though his gallantry was no doubt one of the reasons she loved him so completely. “He has told you of our…”
“I well know who you are to him,” Cassidy finished for her. It was apparent that Gabrielle thought Mason had told Cassidy of his affection for her. Cassidy had no wish to tell her the truth of it; neither did she wish to lie and say that he had told her.
“Do you?” Gabrielle asked, the emotion rising in her throat as she smiled regretfully. Cassidy nodded.
“May I, Miss Gabrielle?” Cassidy turned to see Mason approach them, a somewhat uncertain expression on his face as he offered his hand to Gabrielle.
“Of course, Mason,” Gabrielle accepted gracefully.
Cassidy watched with an aching heart as Mason led Gabrielle to the dance. She watched them intently, and when it was ended she saw that Mason led Gabrielle in the same direction in which he had led her only minutes before.
“No,” she gasped and quickly exited the ballroom through one of the side doors so she could both see and hear what was being said on the veranda through the library window. Quietly she listened, and she could indeed discern their voices. Eavesdropping is deplorable, she thought to herself. But their conversation began, and all notion of propriety was lost to her.
“You’ve taken to her at once, have you not, Mason?” Gabrielle asked as she gazed up into the intensely attractive face of the man with whom she had only just danced.
“One’s eyes can be deceiving, Gabrielle,” Mason told her, “in addition to which she is a sharp-tongued little chit who’ll not let me have a moment’s peace of mind.”
It was apparent that Gabrielle could not resist him longer and let her forehead brush his chin briefly. Just the touch of him was heaven, as well Cassidy knew. “What upset her before? She was quite upset, it was plainly obvious.”
Mason was quiet for a moment. “I suppose that would be me.”
“But you seem to have rectified that quite quickly in that secluded garden spot.”
Cassidy’s heart ached for him, for his love, which she knew would never be hers. Suddenly, to her horror, she felt a kinship to Gabrielle, who loved him too and could only dream of having him now.
“You kissed her then, and your kiss had the healing power needed?”
“Actually, I failed miserably in completing the task. You see, you and your companions arrived a moment too soon.” Mason smiled down affectionately at Gabrielle.
“I pity her then, Mason. For your kiss—and though I’ve had a taste of it…I know that never have I partaken of it fully—would no doubt heal any harm that could come to her.” Tears spilled from Cassidy’s eyes at the perfect truth spoken by the young woman.
“Your flattering ways have always become you, my dear,” Mason chuckled.
Gabrielle smiled, and Cassidy knew that Gabrielle thought Mason took her words far too lightly. “It’s the k
iss that owns the woman, Mason. It takes far more for a man perhaps to feel completely loved, completely satisfied in one female personality, one female heart. But for a woman…the kiss is what owns her. It’s how she reads a man’s heart. How she knows if he truly means what he says to her. How she knows if he is in earnest…or a liar. And it’s how a man owns a woman, for the kiss of the man she wants, the man she loves, can be any woman’s complete undoing.”
Mason frowned slightly as he listened to Gabrielle’s words. As she continued, Cassidy marveled that truer words had never before kissed the air.
“Your kiss will keep her seams from breaking, Mason, when she thinks that she cannot tolerate another day without your love, without your acceptance…another day of this social pishposh. Promise me you’ll not torture the girl. Promise me.”
Cassidy was astonished. Could it be that Gabrielle was sincere in her pleading for Cassidy’s sake? Or, more believably, was she trying to gain Mason’s pity?
“You’re championing her now?” he asked, astonished. “When only a short while ago you were flinging curses at her head? And mine?”
“That was my heart breaking in the cold winter’s breeze, Mason. I would not wish what I’m feeling on anyone. And just now in the garden, you—”
“I was merely the champion of her pride. You and I both know what people are thinking this night. And it was all cruelty. I merely birthed a means of saving her pride.”
Cassidy’s hand went to her mouth to stifle her sobbing. He had told Gabrielle! The one person whom Cassidy wished to believe that what she had seen in the gardens was genuine.
“I know, dearest. I know what you say you did. That you might actually have succeeded in convincing yourself for the moment that it was all theatre out there, but you cannot deny yourself forever, Mason. Never did you hold me as such. Never did you shower such passionate beginnings onto the softness of my shoulders.”
“Gabrielle,” Mason argued, shaking his head and frowning. “Truly, Gabrielle. I only…” Mason sighed heavily, and Gabrielle quickly brushed a traitorous tear from her cheek.
“Promise me, Mason. As a friend who once held something of me in your heart, promise me that this night will not end without completing it for her.” Gabrielle swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I must be mad to say this…to utter such things to you. But, Mason, promise me that you will kiss her once this night. Kiss her firm and square on those berry lips of hers so she’ll not feel so alone, so she knows she’s not abandoned in you.” Opening her eyes, she pleaded with him once more. “She’s not what I expected. Not what I, selfishly, had hoped for. She’s an angel, both physically and, I am glad for your sake, in spirit.” Gabrielle’s voice choked with emotion. “Kiss her the way you never kissed me, Mason.”
“This is nonsense, Gabrielle. I don’t want to trifle with—”
“I’m not asking you to fall to your knees and confess an undying love to her. Just kiss her. Kiss her with wanton passion so that she knows you’ll not be despising her each time you take her in your arms when you’ve wed.” Gabrielle’s smile was that of melancholy as the music within ceased once more.
Cassidy could see the warmth in Mason’s eyes as he gazed down at Gabrielle. What a champion she must seem to him—asking him to sacrifice so much to kiss the woman he did not wish to. Mason raised Gabrielle’s hand to his lips and kissed it with admiration.
“I regret the harsh words that passed between us, Gabrielle. I hope you believe me when I tell you that you will always have a place in my memory. And my heart.”
Gabrielle smiled up at him, tears of heartbreak brimming in her eyes. “You’re an overpoweringly good man, Mason, and I want to assure you that your honorable ways and your goodness are what made me love you in the first place. I too regret so much that was said. Let us part with these kinder words. And promise me now that you’ll do what I ask. I must be insane to be sending you into her arms. But please, Mason…give her the knowledge that you accept her this night. It’s so plain in her countenance that she’s losing her own strength.” Reaching up to affectionately caress his cheek one last time, she turned and left, head held high and with determination to mend her broken heart.
Cassidy wiped madly at her tears, checking her face in a small mirror on the library mantel. She couldn’t be missed, especially by Gabrielle or Mason, and so she forced herself to enter the ballroom once more. An older gentleman approached and offered his greetings. Cassidy looked to the man, his teeth yellowing, his belly protruding far beyond the waistband of his breeches, and smiled her most gracious of smiles.
“Ah! My dear Miss Shea,” he greeted, taking her hand and raising it to his rather chapped-looking lips. “What a prize our young Mason has won for himself, eh?”
“You are too kind, Mr.…Mr.…” Cassidy prodded, for she had not the tiniest drop of knowledge of his name.
“Lionel Chatman, Miss Shea. Your servant, Lionel Chatman,” the man chuckled. “And would the young bride-to-be honor me with this dance then?”
Cassidy felt the lump in her throat swell to twice its previous size as she nodded politely and let the man lead her to the dance. Mr. Chatman’s breath was less than freshened, and Cassidy could feel the heavy perspiration from his hand at her waist even through the handkerchief that he held there.
“Well, and what do you think of our countryside here, Miss Shea? Have you been to the cliffs yet? They’re magnificent, are they not?”
“They are, sir. But I find them somewhat unnerving at the same time. So ominously dangerous somehow,” she chatted.
“No doubt our young Mr. Carlisle has escorted you on a lengthy and thorough tour of the intimate coves that line our beaches below the cliffs.” Mr. Chatman chuckled and winked amusedly at Cassidy.
“Mr. Carlisle is ever the gentleman, Mr. Chatman, I assure you.”
“I know, my dear. I know. I find it one of his most intolerable of faults.” His merry eyes laughed as his round belly jumped as well with his chuckling. Cassidy managed a sincere smile, for he was quite an amusing character in a way. She was, however, thankful that it was a shorter musical interlude and sighed relievedly when he escorted her back to her place of origin and left her with a gallant bow.
“May I?” Mason inquired as he approached, extending his hand to her as the musicians began to play again. Cassidy nodded and placed her hand in his, immediately beginning to tremble at his nearness as he took her in his arms midst the other dancing couples. “I see you’ve become acquainted with our Mr. Chatman,” he said, and she was somewhat astounded by the amusement apparent in his usually indifferent expression.
“Yes. He is…he is quite vocal,” she managed.
“And has the breath of a carp that has been lying in the sun for several days.” Cassidy’s eyes widened with his not-too-exaggerated description. “Still, he’s a good man, believe it or not. A good friend. The kind one could call upon in any time of need. His manner is a little too personal, and he’s not the most eloquently verbal man…but I count him a friend.” Cassidy nodded, and Mason continued, “However, I’m not a young enchantress and the unwilling recipient of his masculine attentions, now am I?”
Cassidy smiled, relieved at his unexpected understanding. Still, the awful jealousy that lurked within her was too close to the surface, and she snippily asked, “Did you enjoy your tête-à-tête with Miss Gabrielle a moment ago?”
“I did,” he answered simply. Cassidy felt the sharp knife of jealousy twist in her bosom. “Of course, the bulk of the conversation was about you. At least, on her part. She has taken to you for some strange reason.”
“You mean it would take some reason of strange origin for someone to find me interesting?” Her feelings were hurt, and her pride had still not recovered from the night’s previous feelings even for Mason’s earnest endeavors at championing it.
“Don’t aggress in defense, Miss Shea. I know that you’re aware of my past where Gabrielle is concerned…however you managed to come by the knowledge.
I therefore know that you’re smart enough to fathom how truly amazing it is that she of all people has taken to you.”
“What wonderful and flattering things did your…your friend tell you about me, Mr. Carlisle?” Cassidy was irritated that Mason’s affection for Gabrielle had ever even existed.
“I didn’t say she liked you, miss, or even thought you worthy of flattery. I said she had taken to you.”
“What, pray tell, is that supposed to mean, sir?” Cassidy was vexed with him. He toyed too extremely with her emotions.
“Shh. Prune back your pretty feathers, pudding. Or I’ll have to endeavor further to save your spoiled pride.” Cassidy looked up to him ready to do furious battle, but the teasing color of his eyes unnerved her, surprised her so utterly, that she was undone.
“You…you should not call me pudding,” she scolded, confused by his expression of mirth.
“Come now, pudding. You cannot expect me to call you by your full and proper name each time I address you, now can you?” he asked. “You would rather I say, ‘Excuse me, Miss Cassidy Bliss Shea, might I have the honor of this dance?’ I hardly think that would be prudent or convenient. I therefore settle on ‘pudding’ until I find something I deem more suitable. And I choose it for reasons that I will keep to myself.”
Cassidy’s mouth gaped open slightly in awe. “I despise my middle given name,” she whispered to him. “How did you know of it? I’ve sworn everyone close to me to secrecy as to its very existence.”
“Bliss? Why?” His question was so forthright that Cassidy struggled for the answer. Somehow she’d forgotten it for a moment.
Shackles of Honor Page 23