Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  Cassidy nodded. “I am sorry I mentioned this to you. I’m certain my discomfort was unfounded.”

  “No. You must always come to me with such anxieties.” He paused and inhaled deeply, pointing toward their destination but lowering his eyes to the ground. “And speaking of anxieties…why ever do you persist in coming here?”

  “It’s a beautiful place. I feel my spirit freed here. Why then do you despise it so? For I know that there is more to it than a fear of high places.”

  Mason was silent. He strode defiantly toward the edge of the cliffs. With each step he took, however, Cassidy could discern that his footing was less certain, less determined. She remembered the way he had crawled toward the edge the day he first found her there, and Cassidy felt her heart begin to pound with an odd sort of fear as she saw him so close to the edge. He wiped the profuse perspiration from his brow with the palm of his hand and inhaled deeply, still not looking down to the rocky beach below. Quickly she joined him and unwittingly took hold of his arm. Looking down, she felt dizzy for a moment and looked back to him to steady herself. Mason simply stood staring out onto the endless waves of ocean below and before them.

  “Jillian died here,” he growled. Cassidy’s mouth dropped open in sudden understanding. “You did not know that, did you?”

  “No. No one has spoken of how she died, and I did not feel it appropriate to ask,” she nearly whispered.

  “I’ve never stepped foot this close to the edge of it since. It wasn’t more than three years ago. Jillian loved the cliffs. As for you, they were her place of spiritual freedom. She said she felt she could breathe easier here. She came often, though Mother was afraid of it.”

  “She…she fell then?” Cassidy inquired.

  “She did. And there was another with her. Mother had been anxious that day when she heard that Jill wanted to go again to the cliffs. Yet Mother found it difficult to deny Jill anything and asked only that Mrs. Minson go with her. Mrs. Minson had been with us since before I was born. Jill adored her. Mrs. Minson was always very protective of Jill and me. Often she hovered over us as our own mother did…always worried for our safety and health. Mother asked Mrs. Minson to go with Jill that day. There came up a violent rainfall only half an hour after they had set out, and Mother sent me out after them. I’ll never forget the look on Mother’s face—so pale and frightened yet calm. I think she knew before she sent me out. I think she felt Jill slip away.”

  As if an omen were being issued, Cassidy felt the first few drops of rain land cool and moist on her cheeks. In an instant the rain began soaking her hair and clothing. Still Mason stood staring out to sea. He meant to finish the tale, and though Cassidy had already guessed its ending, she knew it must be said and listened to.

  “I rode up with Havroneck. I took him with me, for I sensed an ill will at hand. I remember he had been out riding already when the rain had come up, and he was pale as if he too had sensed the ill. We rode up just here, and I saw where the edge had slipped away. The rain had been fierce and hard and had eroded the weakened edge quickly. We dismounted and looked over to the beach below. To the rocks. And there they lay. Sweet Jill and Mrs. Minson, holding each other still, dead at the water’s edge.”

  Cassidy felt the warmth of her own tears mingle with the cool rain on her cheeks as she looked up to Mason, who had lost so much. She could see in his eyes, in his mind, that he knew his father would soon go and he would lose all the more.

  “I loved Jill,” he said, looking at Cassidy. “I don’t often profess to love. But my sister I did love, so much that I nearly died of grief after she was taken. However, I saw that Mother and Father’s grief was even, somehow, deeper than my own, and I took strength from the knowledge that I must be their comfort.”

  Cassidy glanced over the edge to the rocky beaches below and took a step back, tugging at Mason’s arm. He looked down at her with a melancholy smile. “You don’t like them as much now, do you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “How could I?”

  “It’s why I haven’t told you before. I knew you must be sneaking away to this place…to soothe your burdened mind. I didn’t want to take away yet another of your treasured beauties.”

  Cassidy continued to take several steps backward, tugging at him all the way so that he followed her. When she felt they were a safe distance, she stopped, and Mason inhaled deeply, a breath of discouragement.

  “I’ve stolen away so many, have I not?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” She was truly puzzled by his statement.

  “I’ve stripped you of so many of the beauties of life that you held endeared before I came to your father’s home that night, have I not?”

  “You speak in riddles at odd times, Mason Carlisle,” she mumbled rather grouchily, for she was becoming quite soaked to the skin standing out in the rain.

  “Admit it, Bliss. I stripped you of your Gavin Clark, didn’t I?” He smiled somewhat teasingly as she blushed a bit. “I stripped you of your family, your home, your innocence, and your very youth.”

  “No,” she corrected him, and she was sincere in her assertion.

  “No doubt I would’ve beaten your brother Ellis into the ground had he done the same to my own sister. I don’t know how he tolerates me.”

  “He doesn’t,” she teased, for she sensed the hopelessness rising in him and would not feed it further, “for you cannot tie a decent cravat to save your own life.”

  Smiling, she turned from him and began walking quickly toward the horses. The rain was falling harder and harder, and in a moment she was glad to have Mason beside her, having stripped himself of his coat, which he placed about her shoulders.

  “It’s a torrent! I can hardly breathe!” she exclaimed.

  “It’s only just spitting on us. See the break in the clouds eastward?” he shouted. Still, as they reached the enormous willow to which her mount was tethered and where Mason’s had chosen to shelter on its own, he led her to shelter beneath it. “That’s a wet one, that,” he chuckled, running his fingers through his dripping hair.

  Through chattering teeth Cassidy agreed, “Yes,” pulling Mason’s coat tighter about her shoulders in an effort to warm herself. The tree sheltered them almost completely from the downpour. Only a drop or two here and there penetrated its protective leaf-covered limbs.

  “Mother will be beside herself, but I’ll not allow you to ride in this mess,” Mason commented, shivering once himself. “It will be over in a moment or two, and we’ll hurry home and warm up. Stand close to the trunk, and you’ll be better protected.”

  Obediently Cassidy secured her back firmly against the enormous tree’s trunk and tried to keep her teeth from chattering so violently. Mason continued to stand just inside the tree’s protection and look out into the elements at play. She watched him inhale deeply several times and noted she could see the fine muscle definition of his back through his completely saturated shirt.

  “Do you like the smell of the rain on the grasses?” she blurted out suddenly upon his turning to face her.

  “I do,” he admitted plainly. “One’s breath seems to come easier…more complete when the rains stir up the grasses.” Walking to where she stood, he looked down at her curiously. “You’re near to frozen, are you not?”

  “No,” she lied, the violent chattering of her teeth betraying her.

  “I’m further useless if I cannot at least provide warmth,” he mumbled, a frown furrowing his brow deeply. At once Cassidy found herself bound tightly in his arms, being warmed by the heat from his powerful body. “There now,” he spoke to her as if he were comforting a child, which miffed her some, “breathe deeply of that fresh rain.”

  Cassidy did inhale deeply, but the scents and sensations that filled her lungs and being were those of Mason Carlisle and not the rain-gifted grass. The night in the library when she sat reading poetry to Mason from Gabrielle’s book filled her memory then, and the words drifted through her mind like an endless, winding river. Breathe
breath of me, the words of memory whispered. She felt her flesh prickle delightfully as his breath was warm in her hair.

  “You’re quite thoroughly chilled, are you not?” he inquired. She could only nod, for she was lost in the delirium of being held by him. “A fine kettle this is. Mother will have my head if I bring you home with a good case of pneumonia.”

  Cassidy was startled from her warm, euphoric state when Havroneck’s voice called above the storm, “Mr. Mason? Mr. Mason? Are you about?”

  “Well done, Havroneck!” Mason shouted, releasing Cassidy immediately and pushing her back up against the tree. “Wait here,” he ordered her. “I’ll wager he has brought the coach with him.”

  Mason quickly disappeared out into the weather once more, only to return an instant later, saying, “You see! He is quite reliable, our Havroneck. Indeed, he has covered transportation for us, though I’ve no doubt it was Mother’s doing that brought him out after us. Come along. We’ll get you home and warmed up.”

  Cassidy was only further irritated by Havroneck. She would’ve liked nothing more than to have stayed wrapped securely in Mason’s arms for hours and hours, pneumonia pending or not.

  “Hurry, Mr. Mason, please,” Havroneck shouted as he helped tether the horses to the coach. “Your father has taken a turn, sir. Your mother is greatly distressed.”

  “My father?” Mason muttered as Cassidy watched his face pale visibly before her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  

  When they arrived back at the manor house, there was an overall feeling of sadness, of profound sorrow hanging thickly in the air. Mason exploded into the house and ascended the stairs four at a time. Cassidy took only a moment to consider what she must do, and quietly, as if her heart were breaking with each step, she climbed the staircase as well.

  When she approached the doors to Lord Carlisle’s bedchamber, it was to find nearly every servant in the household weeping uncontrollably as they lined the halls. Lady Carlisle stood straight and tall before the closed doors to the great man’s chamber, and even Mathias sat somber in the hallway.

  “Milady,” Cassidy ventured in a whisper.

  The sad, misty eyes of the great lady looked on her with strength and weakness at the same time evident in them. “He has been asking for you, dove. He is with Mason now…but please…stay with me, for he will want to see you at once,” Lady Carlisle said.

  “Yes, milady,” Cassidy agreed, feeling the need to curtsy or to bow in the presence of such a woman who was on the threshold of losing such a man.

  Mason exited the room after some time, and his angry, cold eyes looked to Cassidy. “He wishes to see you. Now,” he rather commanded her.

  The room was darkened even for the candles and lamps that struggled to burn brightly. The shadow of death was everywhere within the great man’s chamber.

  “You…you wanted to see me, sir?” Cassidy forced from her lips as she approached the all too familiar bed.

  “I think, my dear,” he began in barely audible and very slurred speech, gesturing weakly for her to sit next to him on the bed. “I…I think ’tis time that someone told you why it is that you and Mason are betrothed. Why it has been so planned for each of you since you were a mere babe.”

  Cassidy’s heart was pounding madly all at once. The revelation was to be made to her. Finally and at long last! And yet, with the love she secreted in her heart for Mason, it nearly mattered no more to her than whether tomorrow would be cloudy or sunny. The sickly and obviously dying man coughed, wracking his weakened body with great misery. At that moment, Cassidy did not wish to cause him greater pain or fatigue.

  “It’s no longer important to me. Please, simply let it be and rest yourself. You waste your strength in talking.” She helped him to raise his head as she held a glass of water to his lips, allowing him to sip from it.

  “No,” he whispered, shaking his head as it fell weakly to the pillow beneath it once more. “It’s wrong. All of us were wrong to keep it from you. Mason knows, of course. Has known for years. He has a singular power over his mother’s heart, and she could not keep it from him once he began to inquire so persistently.” The man smiled for a moment before continuing, “And besides that, my dear…have you not heard of deathbed repentance? Of souls who have been long in torture with cached secrets in their hearts that they feel the need, before they face their Maker, to confess all to those whom they may have hurt?”

  “Oh, surely, sir, it can be nothing so terrible as that?” Cassidy argued. But as his trembling hand—a hand that had once been as powerful as Mason’s now was—as his trembling, frail hand reached forth and grasped her own suddenly, she knew that what he must say, he must say. She smiled at him with understanding and nodded her head.

  “We were all young once, you realize, my young dove,” he began. He smiled at her and winked affectionately before closing his eyes to continue his tale. “All of us are young once. Young and in love with…someone. For me, it was one of our kitchen maids, Minna Darcy. She was a beautiful young girl and sweet—as sweet and innocent as a hatchling. I did not merely trifle with her, mind you,” he added firmly, looking at her once more. “No. I was not the sort to do such a thing. I truly cared for her. Loved her in a way. Not completely or madly perhaps, but I did love her.”

  He paused for a moment, resting his tired mind and body before continuing. “Minna’s parents, however, were ambitious for her, of course. After all, I was heir to my father’s title, to all that he owned. My parents were horrified when Minna’s parents approached them one day, demanding that I marry her…insisting that I had promised to do so…that it was necessary. I know you’re an insightful young lady, Cassidy, so I’ll not verbally convey to you the reasons her parents concocted to demand my marriage to her. I perceive that your imagination can conclude properly. Yes?”

  Cassidy blushed and nodded in understanding. Lord Carlisle chuckled slightly and sighed, seemingly amused at some thought. “No doubt Mason would not pause in discussing such things with you in a far more forthright manner than I. Am I right?”

  Cassidy smiled and confirmed, “You know him well enough. That is factual.”

  “Well, my parents knew I was an honorable young man, that I valued honor, duty, morality. And they knew that Minna was no girl to let her virtue be compromised. So my father chose that moment to reveal to them, and to me as well, that I had long been betrothed to another, that my taking Minna to wife was inconceivable and preposterous! Minna’s parents worked as gardeners on our grounds, and they were both immediately dismissed. Minna left us for a time but returned to our employ and was happily married to our headman, Robert.” Lord Carlisle coughed again and waved his hand, indicating he was fine, when Cassidy leaned nearer to him, concern evident on her face. “I am rambling, I know. Perhaps telling you things that are irrelevant. But let me babble, sweet child, for I must say it all.” Cassidy nodded, and he smiled at her.

  “I was nearly as surprised as were Minna’s parents to find I was one who had been promised in marriage already. I, like you, my dear, had no prior notion of it, and I was angry. Furious! Until the moment I saw my intended.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, and the smile on his face broadened. “She was a beauty! Is still, I know. But, oh! I had never envisioned her to be so perfectly sweet…so perfect in demeanor and character as well as of face. Devonna was a prize, and I loved her nearly immediately.”

  His smile faded, and he continued, “I loved her so fiercely that when it was soon my knowledge that she loved another, I was not angry but compassionate. The man she loved was completely worthy of her was the sad part of it, not like Minna, whose social standing was not acceptable to my parents or my position. But a gentleman, heir to his own title and fortunes. I truly pitied her, for it did break her heart at first to leave him…to fulfill her duty. She married me. She left the man of her dreams and married me.”

  “But Lady Carlisle has told me herself, sir, that you are the man of her
dreams. That she loves you more purely and deeply than—” Cassidy began.

  “Oh, I know that, my dear. I know that she loves me—that we did fall in love—that we have had a beautiful life of perfect companionship and affection. But she did love another before me, dove. Truly loved him. And her heart did break when she was forced to leave him, and he her. For it was quickly revealed that he, her beloved first love, was the pawn in an arranged marriage as well. He was to be wed only three days after we to a girl he had known but never had intention to marry.”

  Cassidy felt the back of her neck prickling, and the sensation soon covered her entire scalp. The revelation was emerging, and her mind was beginning to guess at it already.

  “I pitied my sweet, young wife, for I knew that, though she was coming to love me—liked me, in fact, and enjoyed my company—even as the midwife laid our beautiful son in her arms, some part of her regretted it was not her first love sharing the moment instead of me.”

  “I am certain that is not true, sir. You must not believe that—” Cassidy began.

  “She loves me now, sweet. Loves me like she never loved him, and that is my comfort. But during Mason’s first years, she still had heartache. And so, one day, when a message came from the man she had so long loved…” He began to stumble over his words. “The man that had so long loved her…when the message came that a daughter had been born to him and his wife…it was decided that Mason and this girl baby would one day marry.” Cassidy felt the blood fairly draining from her face and limbs as she looked in disbelief at the man. “I agreed, as did Cylia, to the arrangement, both of us feeling that maybe the promise of the children to wed would heal Calvert’s and Devonna’s wounds somehow—none of us thinking that our lives had been so intervened upon at our parents’ exact actions in our lives.”