Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  The wedding was the only other public appearance that Cassidy and Mason made in each other’s company. Mason was as jovial and attentive to Cassidy as he had been at their engagement ball. He was ever the gentleman, assisting her in and out of the carriage, his hand at her back when they entered the chapel and whenever they were walking together.

  After the wedding, Mason was again gone each morning before Cassidy arose. She spent a part of each day in reading to or visiting with Lord Carlisle, whose condition worsened before her eyes seemingly hourly.

  One morning, several days after Katie’s wedding, Cassidy entered the library in search of a book she had fallen asleep reading the night before but awakened to find missing. Assuming Katie had tidied her chamber and returned the book to its shelf in Carlisle Manor’s grand library, she entered to find Devonna slumped over in a chair, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Milady!” Cassidy exclaimed, going at once to kneel on the floor before the woman. “What is it? Please let me help you bear whatever burden is causing you to weep so.”

  Wiping at her eyes angrily, Devonna tried to smile as she looked to Cassidy. “He grows worse with each day. Every morning I awaken, and my first thought is, will today be the day I lose my love?” Instantly tears filled Cassidy’s own eyes. She too had thought daily that it might be the last that any of them shared with Lord Carlisle. The great sadness in her own heart, she knew, must be manifest millions of times over in Devonna’s. Further, to her horror, there was nothing that could be said, no encouraging words. Reaching out, Cassidy embraced Devonna comfortingly, letting the woman sob for some time.

  Finally, raising her head and wiping frustratedly at her cheeks with a handkerchief, Devonna said, “I have suffered great loss in my life, darling. I have tried to bear it as well as my strength would allow. I have suffered so much already that I do not understand this! Why is he being taken from me?”

  “I know not,” is all that Cassidy could say.

  Devonna smiled, cupping Cassidy’s cheek lovingly in her soft hand. “You are such a comfort to me, darling. You will make my son’s happiness and give me grandchildren to help fill the voids in my heart.” Rising, she left the room. Cassidy knew where she was bound, for Devonna had taken to spending more and more time with Lord Carlisle, even watching him as he slept now.

  Though there were other times of great sorrow shared with Lady Carlisle, much of Cassidy’s time was spent in pleasant and intimate conversation with her. Oh, how much she learned about the woman who would be part of her family one day. With each moment spent with Devonna, Cassidy admired and loved her more.

  During her remaining waking hours, she rode or walked with Mathias ever at her side. She was beginning to truly adore the animal, and he made her feel safe even for the odd things that were about her. He had quite the obvious personality—playful, protective, and rather carefree. He was so very comforting and often brought a smile to her face simply by sitting down on his haunches and tipping his head to one side as though he were asking her a question. What an adorable beast he was. Not unlike his master.

  And the days wore on and on…comfortable in some regards for Cassidy, but ever Masonless and lonely.

  Chapter Twelve

  The incidences of disappearing objects or feelings of being watched began to occur several weeks after the engagement was announced. Letters Cassidy received from her mother would simply disappear from her vanity. She was certain of where she had placed them. But when she returned to read a comforting passage, she would find several missing, only to discover them later in some odd place where she did not remember leaving them. Objects in her room were in one position when she searched for slumber at night, only to appear in another when she awoke the next morning.

  No doubt Katie was overly excited about arranging the items in her own new home and felt the need to try new things in Cassidy’s room as well. At least that was the explanation Cassidy gave herself. However, she could not fully convince herself that these occurrences were her weary and insecure mind playing tricks on her. Yet were they really anything of substance about which to worry? She decided not and went about her business.

  Once or twice, when dear Mathias was not about, Cassidy was able to ride one of the Carlisle horses out to the cliffs and sit quietly on the grassy meadow that overlooked the sea. There she let her mind dream on Mason as the horse nibbled contentedly on the meadow grasses. She never stayed long, for she often fancied she was being watched by some invisible presence. She concluded finally that this was her overwhelming guilt at visiting the cliffs when she knew it would disturb Mason so greatly. Still, they were so alluring somehow—forbidden attractions. The time came, however, when her discomfort and guilt were so overwhelming that she did not linger. Thereafter, for the most part, when she was not with Lord or Lady Carlisle, Cassidy preferred to walk to the lake, enjoy the sweet smell of spring flowers and the cooling breezes playing with her hair, and sit on its banks to watch the swans that frequented the place.

  There were six swans, she finally determined—beautiful white swans floating gracefully on the water’s surface here and there. They gave the landscape an air of majesty and anyone watching an inclination of having just stepped into a charming magical painting, more beautiful than reality. Almost daily Cassidy watched the magnificent birds, ever awed at their grace and beauty. She even named them, though it was impossible to tell which was which. She liked to imagine they were enchanted beings that knew her and counted her a friend as well.

  Once she fell asleep under the large oak near the lake only to awaken and find two of the swans nestled nearby as if protecting her somehow. When she moved toward them, they stood and, making their way back to the lake, floated away like some enchanted vessels born of the water.

  One afternoon, after visiting with Lord Carlisle and noting his worsening condition, Cassidy’s tears of impending loss stung her eyes, and she craved fresh air and a cool breeze to dry her face. If there was one thing she truly loved about Carlisle Manor, other than its heir, it was that the gardens were so beautifully kept. They gave her hope somehow, and she sought them now. Walking along the paths here and there, she reached the last row of beautifully sculpted hedges that trimmed the lake. She wondered if the swans would be there today to reassure her of the hope and beauty of life.

  Stepping from behind the long row of hedges, Cassidy was astonished at what she saw. There, on the banks of the lake, were not six swans but rather two young boys. Recognizing one boy as Gabrielle’s younger brother, Martin, she surmised the age of the other to be approximately eight years. They had constructed several rough toy sailboats from pieces of wood, twigs, and fabric. They were so engrossed in their play as to be completely unaware of her. Even more astounding than the boys, wading in the water well up to their knees and shrieking and imitating canon fire, was Mason, with trousers rolled above his knees, shirt gaping open, and hair mussed, involved wholeheartedly in their game.

  “I’ll get yours, you blasted posh!” Mason shouted, tossing a small pebble at one of the toy ships. “I, Rogue Blood the Pirate, take no pity on the queen’s men!”

  “Aye! Your flesh will feed the fish of the sea this day, Rogue Blood!” one boy called out, tossing a pebble in the direction of Mason’s ship. Only at that moment did Cassidy notice the ship closest to Mason had a very rough drawing of a skull and crossbones on its tiny flag. “Turn the fleet!” the young lad shouted.

  “Aye, Captain!” Martin called out with an effort to deepen the intonation of his youthful voice. Back and forth the boys and Mason tossed pebbles at each other’s ships. Always they made the sounds of battle with their voices.

  “Pppwwwqqqquuu!” Mason growled low in his throat.

  “You rat, Blood!” Martin shouted as his ship began to list to one side. Again Cassidy heard the sounds of boys imitating battle in their throats. Martin’s ship listed heavily, finally going keel up. Cassidy smiled as the lad put his hand to his heart and dramatically recited, “To her grave, the
grand ship sailed. Her crew all dead, their faces paled.” Cassidy wrinkled her nose in distaste, however, as the boy continued the verse, obviously of his own authoring. “Bathed in blood and eyes poked out…the sailors died without a doubt.”

  “Bravo, Martin!” Mason exclaimed, applauding the boy. “Well done. Indeed, well done!”

  “It’s your best verse yet, Martin,” the other boy added as the toy ship remained floating keel up in the water.

  “Avenge me, lads!” Martin shouted after bowing in acceptance of his praise. “Avenge me…Captain Martin Ashmore…and my ship, the Hendrickson! Death to the pirate Rogue Blood!”

  “Death to Rogue Blood!” the remaining boy shouted.

  Cassidy was enthralled, delighted, and amused. As she watched Mason continue his play with the boys, she wondered—had she seen him smile so continuously before? She determined she had not. It was a delightful scene to behold.

  “Prepare to be boarded, Blood!” shouted the boy whose ship still sailed.

  “Never!” Mason bellowed. “Never! Attempt it, ye scum of the sea, and I will slit your throat clean through!”

  The lad tossed a particularly large pebble, and Mason’s ship listed to one side.

  “They have opened the hold, men!” Mason shouted in agony. “The dirty dogs! Farewell to ye, Cap’n Rogue Blood! Farewell, brave pirates of the good ship Swash ‘n Blood. Sail on…sail on…on the bottom of the sea!” A shout of triumph erupted from the two young boys as Mason watched his ship go keel up in the water.

  “Set sail triumphant…oh, sailors true,” Martin began, “for Blood is dead. He’s seafood stew.”

  There was more shouting of prevailing glory. Cassidy covered her mouth to stifle the giggle wanting release at the boy’s verse. Her mirth was cut short, however, when she heard the boy unknown to her ask, “Who is that woman, sir?”

  Quickly she looked to Mason, who turned in the direction to which the boy pointed. Immediately his joyous smile lessened. It did not disappear altogether, but it did lessen.

  “That, my boy,” he stammered, “is Miss Cassidy Shea.”

  “Well, what’s she doing spying on our battle?” the boy indignantly shouted.

  “She’s Mr. Mason’s betrothed, Gregory,” Martin answered.

  “Well, what’s she doing spying on us?” the boy named Gregory asked again, obviously irritated with Cassidy’s presence.

  Mason paused for a moment before answering. “Well,” he began finally, “Rogue Blood did not go down with his ship, for pirates are all selfish and are often not as loyal to their crews as a true sailor would be. No. Rogue Blood swam the distance to Captain Gregory Watt’s ship.”

  “Mine?” Gregory asked.

  “The very same,” Mason said, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “And sneaking aboard, like the rat that he is…he came upon the captain’s very chambers. And what think you he found there?” The boys shook their heads and shrugged in silence. “Why…the captain’s true love…Lady Cassidy Shea! That be what he found there. And do you know what he did then, lads?” Again the boys shook their heads, and Cassidy watched as Mason began striding slowly toward her. His expression was that of intense mischief and gave Cassidy cause to step from him. “Why, my boys…he took her captive, he did!” Cassidy gave a shriek as he lunged forward and took hold of both her wrists in his strong hands.

  “Blast!” Martin exclaimed. “Did he? Did he really?”

  “Of course he did,” Mason chuckled. “And the good lady—for she was ever so afraid of being taken by the dastardly Rogue Blood—the good Lady Shea struggled and struggled.” Cassidy was altogether enchanted by the light and mirth evident in Mason’s eyes. Suddenly she was delighted and exhilarated that she should join in their game.

  “Unhand me, you blackguard! How dare you touch the captain’s maid?” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Help me, Gregory! Oh, help me! I’ve fallen prey to Rogue Blood!”

  Mason raised his eyebrows in startled approval. “Ha, ha!” Mason laughed maniacally. “I have you in my clutches, Lady Shea! And there you will stay!” he mumbled with an alluring grin.

  The next thing Cassidy knew, the ground had jumped up solidly to hit her squarely in the back.

  “Oof,” Mason groaned and Cassidy felt his heavy weight land on top of her. Opening her eyes, for she had closed them as she began to fall, she saw both boys throwing fists at Mason as they sat on his back and legs. Mason was lying on Cassidy, holding her wrists to the ground at either side of her head.

  “Release the maid, fiend Rogue Blood!” Gregory shouted.

  Mason’s gaze captured Cassidy’s for a moment, and she was instantly mesmerized as his eyes glowed with warmth and delight in her direction. “Never!” he shouted suddenly and rolled onto his back, throwing the boys this way and that. “She is pirate booty now!” he shouted.

  With the screams of men in battle, the boys pounced on Mason. He gave them a rough wrestling before, groaning, closing his eyes, and hanging his tongue from his mouth, he feigned death sprawled out on the grass. Cassidy smiled and resumed her role as Gregory walked to her, offering his hand to help her stand.

  “Oh! Oh, bless you, Captain,” she sighed dramatically.

  “Did the fearsome brute frighten you, milady?” Gregory asked. His expression was terribly serious, and he stood so chivalrous as Cassidy looked down upon his youthful face that she could not suppress a delighted smile.

  “Frighten me, yes, kind sir. But he had not the time to put me to harm…for you have championed me most expediently.” Cassidy smiled as the young boy rather blushed.

  “’Twas merely my duty, milady,” Gregory mumbled.

  “Oh, but, sir…so daring an act certainly must be rewarded! What? Oh, what reward would you ask, Captain, that I could grant this day…as thanks for my life and virtue being spared at your hand?” Cassidy glanced pointedly at the dead pirate, Rogue Blood, as she emphasized the word virtue and was gratified to see him glare at her somewhat perturbedly through narrowed eyes.

  She was most astounded as the boy answered, “No greater reward could be bestowed, milady…than one kiss from your ruby lips!”

  A delighted grin spread across Cassidy’s face as the eyes of the supposedly dead pirate widened and one of his eyebrows cocked curiously.

  “You flatter me, Captain. Far more than I deserve. But if it is your wish,” she said as she bent down, placing a tender, perfumed kiss on the boy’s cheek.

  “Blast,” Martin exclaimed. “To the victor the spoils.”

  “’Twas a grand game we had today, was it not, my boys?” Mason asked, sitting up suddenly.

  “Oh, yes! Very grand!” came the resounding general consensus.

  “But…all good things must come to an end. Duty calls,” Mason grumbled as he uncuffed his trousers and went in search of his stockings and boots.

  “Ah, but, sir…” Martin began.

  Mason shrugged his shoulders defeatedly as he sat down in the grass and began to pull on his stockings. “I am sorry, Martin. But my mother will have my head if I do not get something productive done this afternoon. As will each of your own, I imagine. And besides that,” he continued, “the good ship Swash ’n Blood is belly-up in the lake!”

  With disappointed farewells, the youngsters, roughly carved wooden ships tucked safely under their arms, disappeared into the nearby woods. Cassidy watched them go, feeling rather melancholy and disappointed along with them. When at last she turned to see Mason standing behind her, watching their departure as well, she gasped so startled was she by his more familiar appearance. He had unrolled his sleeves, donned his vest, and efficiently retied his cravat and now stood looming up before her, ominous and somber.

  He simply stood glaring down at her. It was such an awkward moment, and she wished he would speak—say anything to break the odd silence. But he only continued to stare at her, and she suddenly stammered, “I…I was afraid I had spoiled your game at first.”

  “So was I,” he mumbled.
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br />   Instantly Cassidy felt the all too familiar defensive emotion of indignation welling up within her bosom. “I only happened upon you all on accident. I was simply out trying to find a peaceful moment and—” she began.

  “I didn’t say that you did ruin our game, Miss Shea. Actually, the young lads seem quite smitten with you. They don’t go in for females as a rule. Yet.” She didn’t mind his interrupting her, for she suspected that this was as close as he would ever come to confessing some sort of approval. “Would you prefer that I escort you back to the house or not?”

  “I…I…” She again could not speak confidently. In reality, she realized that she would much prefer to be in his company. Simultaneously, however, she knew that he much preferred not to be in hers. “No. Thank you. I would like to walk awhile longer.”

  “Very well.” He nodded, strode quickly to the lake, and retrieved his own wooden ship, dubbed Swash ’n Blood with red paint at the tiny helm. He promptly went to a nearby tree where he placed the toy in a large, hollowed-out hole. “Good afternoon then, Miss Shea,” he bid his farewell. Moving past her, he walked away.

  Cassidy’s mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, and then she instantly clamped her hand over her gaping mouth to suppress the waves of giggles that verged there. For, as Mason walked away, Cassidy’s attention was arrested by two severe grass stains squarely on the seat of his trousers. Taking mental note as to where her eyes were lingering, she turned around quickly, still suppressing the tickling giggles trapped in her throat. When he was safely out of range of hearing, she let one tiny snicker escape. But even it was abruptly stifled as her eyes fell to the indentation in the tall grasses near the lake. This had been the very spot where she had fallen backward, Mason falling with her, when the boys endeavored to beat the dreaded pirate Rogue Blood after he mishandled Captain Gregory’s fair maiden. It took no more than a second for the scene to change dramatically in her mind’s eye.

  Suddenly, instead of her in the grass with Mason awkwardly lying the length of her while two small boys pelted his body with tiny fists, there were no small boys. Cassidy’s mind concocted an image of isolation. There in the grass she lay, Mason the length of her, and he did not hold her wrists to the ground. Rather, her own arms embraced him lovingly, as his hands caressed her hair, her forehead, her cheeks. Then he, Mason Carlisle, began placing lingering, impassioned kisses about her neck and face.