Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  “I’m sorry, Bliss. I cannot believe I nearly lost you. What a fool I was to make the pretense of having left. I thought it the only way to draw Havroneck out. I…I should not have. Forgive me. Can you forgive me?” he asked, his breathing still heavy from the exertion it took to scale the cliff wall.

  “But you are in danger!” she gasped, releasing him from her embrace and taking his face in her hands. “Havroneck means to…” Her words were stopped—forgotten for a moment by the warmth in his eyes, the haggard expression of fear and self-blaming on his face.

  “I love you,” he said simply, moisture apparent in his eyes, his voice deep and soothing. “I’ll be a fool no longer in restraining the admission. I love you, Cassidy.”

  Cassidy was lost in the moment, wanting it to last eternally. She studied each line in his face, the way his wet, mud-splattered hair clung to his forehead, the raindrops that streamed down his face to his mouth, dripping finally from his lips onto her own face. She let the fingers of one hand trace his lips for a moment. Had he really spoken it to her? Now? When all was so life-threatening still?

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  She had barely finished her confession before the delicious heat of his mouth captured her own—the first kiss given her of him with all revealed. All secrets were gone between them: the secret of why she had been given to him, the secret of why so many tragic deaths had haunted Carlisle Manor, and the secret of love. So many secrets had plagued them. Now they were free—free to love, to admit love, unbridled and confidently. Mason’s kiss was even further uninhibited. And Cassidy worried not about the smothering rain that poured down upon them, cared not that Havroneck still roamed the earth. She cared for nothing other than her lover in her arms.

  But wise Mathias still had his wits about him. At the first feel of his cold, rough tongue against their cheeks, Mason broke their kiss and stood, pulling Cassidy to her feet. “We must return to the manor. Ellis should be there with Mother by now. I—” Mason began.

  “Ellis?” Cassidy asked, still lost in the warmth of his eyes.

  “It was why I left, though I did not go to Haggarty,” Mason said, stripping himself of the rope that had been tied about his waist.

  Cassidy realized, as she looked to Mason’s mount standing nearby, that the horse had pulled them up. The whistle and call to Mathias must’ve been Mason’s signal to the animals to pull them up.

  “I had to send word to Ellis,” he continued, “because—”

  “I knew it. I told you. She is like a cat, that one! Nine miserable lives about her!” Cassidy gasped at the sound of Syndle’s voice.

  “You’re a dead man, Havroneck,” Mason shouted, stepping in front of Cassidy as Havroneck and Syndle approached.

  “Correction, sir,” Havroneck mocked. “You are a dead man! You miserable Carlisle! I killed your sister, your father, and now…I will kill you.”

  “Have at me then,” Mason growled.

  “No!” Cassidy gasped, distracted when she heard the same exclamation simultaneously escape Syndle’s lips.

  “No, Blythe! You cannot!” Syndle cried unexpectedly.

  “Don’t be a fool, Syndle. Do you think he would have you now?” Havroneck shouted at her. “The wench owns him completely! Heart and soul! Just as I told you she would. Do not be an imbecile! Accept what is and what must be. Do you not care for me? For what should be mine?”

  Mathias began to growl ferociously as he crouched down and approached Havroneck. “Stay, Mathias,” Mason ordered, but the dog continued. “Mathias!” Mason shouted, and the dog stopped, looking with confusion to Mason.

  “Come now, Mason. Let the beast at me. It will be my pleasure to finish what I failed to do last evening and slit his cursed throat!” Havroneck chuckled.

  “Come at me, Havroneck,” Mason coaxed. “Come at me. Give me the chance to rid this earth of a devil such as you.” Havroneck only smiled sarcastically, and Mason continued, “Coward, to attack women because you’ve not the courage to face me. Had you rid the family of me to begin with…but no. Cowardice is your coat of arms!”

  Mason reached behind him, taking Cassidy’s arm and throwing her to the ground an instant before Havroneck lunged at him, drawing a large knife from his waist. Mason skillfully caught Havroneck’s wrist, avoiding the knife’s blade. But as they struggled, Cassidy knew anger and hatred would make Havroneck strong, while the physical exertion of rescuing her added to Mason’s fatigue. Though Mason succeeded in causing Havroneck to drop his weapon, Havroneck dealt a seemingly lethal blow to Mason’s jaw. Cassidy screamed as he fell to the ground. He struggled to regain his balance. He did so only a moment before Havroneck’s hands were tight about his throat. Mason’s elbow delivered a breath-ending impact to Havroneck’s midsection. Havroneck doubled over, releasing his hold on Mason. Without pause, Mason grabbed Havroneck’s hair, bringing his knee up to solidly meet with the villain’s face, causing Havroneck’s face to turn red with the blood that flowed from his nose, mingling with the rain.

  As they struggled, Cassidy was powerless to help. She knew that trying to assist Mason would only distract him and give Havroneck an upper hand. Looking to Syndle then, she could see the battle raging within her. Could it be that Syndle had fallen too deeply in love with Mason to see what her brother’s original plan had been? Syndle had never meant for Mason to die. She had meant to wed him, to be the bride of Carlisle—while Havroneck had planned to do away with the Carlisle line all along.

  Havroneck and Mason were dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, and Cassidy could not help but shout, “Mason, the cliffs!”

  Both men stood on the cliff’s ledge, the rain battering its edge just at their feet. Both men were physically spent. Havroneck lunged in an attempt to throw Mason over the edge, but Mason was faster and stronger and resisted Havroneck’s strength. The two men wrestled brutally for what seemed an eternity. Then, to Cassidy’s horror, as Mason struggled to pull the knife ever hidden in his boot, somehow Havroneck gained control of the weapon. Laughing maniacally, Havroneck stood. Mason, still lying on his back, exhausted, looked up at the villain.

  Havroneck panted, “Now you die, Carlisle. Like your blessed sister and your cursed father before you!” Then, wielding the knife high over his head, he lunged down toward Mason, but Mason caught his wrist, planted a boot firmly to his midsection, and lifted him upward and over his body. Mason’s strength, coupled with Havroneck’s furious momentum, propelled Havroneck over the edge of the cliff. There erupted a scream from Syndle’s throat as Havroneck disappeared, his screams becoming fainter and fainter until they silenced abruptly as his body met violently with the rocks below.

  “Blythe!” Syndle screamed, rushing to the edge.

  “No! Syndle, the mud…” Mason began. But she was too overwrought and did not think of the slick, quickly eroding ledge. She began to slide over the edge, screaming for help.

  Mason caught her by the hand, nearly going over with her, but he hung onto her with everything left in him. Cassidy rushed to his side. Looking down, she saw Syndle struggling and heard her screaming as she looked at the rocks below.

  “Do not resist me, Syndle! I cannot help you if—”

  “Take my hand,” Cassidy shouted, reaching down to help Mason support the girl’s weight.

  Only momentarily did the irony of it all pass through Cassidy’s mind. Could it truly be she and Mason labored to save a soul that had been a murderer’s accomplice? Arm flailing, Syndle did at last grasp Cassidy’s hand. Then her countenance changed. Instantly, she quit struggling. Her eyes—her hateful gaze—were intent on Cassidy.

  “It’s all your fault! And you shan’t have him!” she screamed. She began to pull on Cassidy’s arm. Cassidy screamed as the unexpected act caused her to lurch forward.

  “Let her go!” Mason shouted at the girl.

  But Syndle continued to pull forcefully on Cassidy’s arm. Cassidy’s body began to slip over the edge. Mason’s free arm caught her about the wa
ist. Then Cassidy felt Mathias tugging at her skirts in an effort to stay her.

  “Release her!” Mason shouted as he tore his grasp from Syndle’s and began trying to pry her hand from Cassidy’s arm.

  Syndle now clung to Cassidy’s arm with both hands. Cassidy felt her arm might be ripped completely from her body! Mason’s strength at her shoulders and waist would keep her from falling. Syndle’s weight would surely pull off her arm!

  “She is coming with me, Mason! She’ll not have you!” the woman screeched an instant before Mason wrenched Cassidy free, and Syndle joined her brother on the rocks below.

  Cassidy was in Mason’s arms—warm and safe. “It cannot all be real,” she sobbed as Mathias lay down in the grass next to them, panting with pain.

  Mason said nothing. He too struggled for breath. His energies were spent. Cassidy held him as tightly as her body allowed. She clung to him—felt of his face to hers. He was safe! At last, he was safe! She was safe, and Devonna was safe. And he loved her! He had confessed it.

  “Tell me once more, Mason. Even now…in this horrid place and moment. Tell me again that—”

  “I love you,” he breathed. “I love you.”

  At that moment, Ellis unexpectedly arrived. Instantly dismounting his horse, he called, “Cass!” Dropping to his knees beside Cassidy and Mason, still fiercely embraced in each other’s arms, he asked, “Cass, are you well? Mason?” The rain began to lighten, and a piece of sky peeked through the dark clouds above as Ellis said with concern, “My man, you look near to done in. Forgive me, Mason. I rode my mount into the ground getting here. I could not arrive faster.”

  “It is over, Ellis,” Mason breathed. “She is safe. She is well. It is blessedly over.” Cassidy let Mason hold her for long moments, secure in the knowledge that he had delivered her from harm, he loved her, and his heart belonged entirely to her.

  Epilogue

  Cassidy smiled as she made her way to the lake. It had all been so very long ago. It seemed somewhere off, far off, in the past. Yet at times it seemed as though it were only yesterday that Blythe and Syndle Havroneck had met their deaths on the rocky beaches below the Carlisle cliffs. The tragedy and the grief that they had inflicted upon those at Carlisle would never end—never disappear. But healing had come about. With healing came comfort and happiness. And the love…the love had been there all along. It had been the secrets that kept Cassidy and Mason apart—kept them afraid to confess their love to each other.

  Cassidy, for some reason, thought now on those long-ago days. Thought of returning to the manor after Havroneck and his sister met their fates. Remembered that same evening as she and Mason spent long hours in each other’s arms, confessing, laughing over their trials before confession came. Mason gifted her that night with the contents of the drawer in his study—the pages and pages of words he’d written of her—a treasure she still kept ever at hand, ever cherished. He had gifted her a confession of having himself commissioned the gold bracelet he wore, for he had wanted to belong to her—wanted her to know how completely she held him captive. He gifted her the knowledge that his father, on his deathbed, offered Mason his freedom as he did Cassidy. Mason had refused, caring not for anything save her.

  As she made her way now along the path that led to the lake, knowing full well what would greet her there, she smiled. Leaving the hedges that trimmed the lake and stepping out toward its bank, she felt great, heavy tears of joy fill her eyes at what she beheld. Stretched out in the grass was Mason, barefoot, trousers pushed up past his knees, and shirt wildly unbuttoned. A peaceful expression was on his face as he dozed among his children, scattered here and there about him, also dozing in the warm sunshine of summer.

  Serenely, she studied them—her husband, as handsome and powerful as ever, and then LaMont, who would soon turn sixteen. For pity’s sake! she thought. Sixteen! The very age Mason had taken to the sea in search of piracy. She thought of the portrait hanging in the grand hall and marveled at how much LaMont looked like his father, as did Saxon. Cassidy sighed at the thought of their second son. He would soon turn fourteen and was nearly as large in stature as his brother already! She smiled happily, for Saxon reminded her of Ellis in character. Her thoughts turned momentarily to her beloved Ellis, his lovely, cherished wife, Gabrielle, and their four children, who would arrive at any moment for a visit.

  Dear Sarah and Keefe lay entwined in each other’s arms. The twins would soon be six and maybe a bit more calm, for they did give their Grandmother Carlisle cause to be very tired at the end of the day.

  She was glad as she looked to Jill, stockings gone, petticoat hems drenched, that in all her primping and worry about her appearance as the age of twelve demanded, she still saw fit to romp around merrily with her father and siblings. One of the new puppies slept in her arms. Roarke, Jill had named him, a canine namesake in honor of her latest romantic interest, a fine young man from a neighboring county.

  As Cassidy gazed upon the puppy, she thought of dear Mathias. Following the healing of his wounds sustained during the battle with Havroneck, he lived a long life for a dog. Cassidy and Mason mourned him bitterly, as had the children, when he succumbed to old age several years ago. He died one beautiful spring day on the banks of the lake, watching his newest litter play there. He had gone quietly, simply fallen asleep and ceased breathing. There would ever be his posterity at Carlisle. Roarke was his grandson. Already he was dark and vibrant as Mathias had been when first Cassidy arrived at Carlisle so many years ago. The tears flowing down her cheeks increased as she thought of the dear, departed friend.

  “They’re here! They’re here! Oh, blessed day!” came Devonna’s joyous call from beyond the hedges. Mason opened his eyes and sat up. He smiled lovingly at Cassidy as she stood gazing down at him.

  “They’re here?” Sarah and Keefe exclaimed simultaneously as they fairly jumped to their feet.

  Devonna stepped from behind the hedges, placing a dainty hand to her heart as she labored to catch her breath. “Ellis and Gabrielle have arrived at last! Oh, how the children have grown!”

  “The cousins! The cousins!” the twins exclaimed, running off through the hedges, careless as always of their shoes and stockings.

  “They cannot possibly!” Jill whined. “Mother,” she said to Cassidy, “I am a fright! Simply a fright!” Frantically Jill pulled on her stockings and began lacing her shoes.

  “Simply go the long way around to the back entrance, darling,” Cassidy said, smiling understandingly. “But do hurry in freshening.” Sighing heavily, Jill stomped away poutily.

  “Come along, Grandmama,” LaMont said, rising and brushing the grass from the seat of his trousers. Striding to his mother, he kissed her affectionately before turning his attentions to his grandmother. “Saxon and I shall escort you back to the house. Why ever did you not send Uncle Ellis or one of the cousins to fetch us? You’ll overexert yourself and be too tired for the fun.” Saxon and LaMont linked their arms, forming a cradle, and scooped up their beloved Grandmama.

  “Mother? Father?” Saxon called as they began to walk toward the house.

  “We’ll be along shortly,” Mason said, standing straight and strong and tall and brushing the grass from his trousers. “What?” he asked as Cassidy brushed a tear from her cheek, all the while smiling at him.

  “You grow more handsome with each sunrise, Mason,” she answered. “And each day I’m amazed because I love you more than the day before, and each day I think that it is impossible to love you more than I do.”

  “Ah, my Bliss,” he said, his voice low and warm, honeyed, and smooth like molasses. “What a blessed man I am to open my eyes each morning and behold such as you beside me.” Embracing her tightly for a moment, he asked, “What causes the tears in your eyes? You know how it eats at me to see you cry.”

  “I was only just thinking. Just remembering…the day at the cliffs. Havroneck, Syndle, Mathias, everything. How grateful I am that you were spared that day. That you saved me. That�
�”

  “That all of it was at an end. All the secrets, all the sinister secrets, were over that day,” he mumbled.

  Cassidy smiled. “Even Ellis…the pompous rogue.”

  Mason chuckled. “Even Ellis. I shall never forget the look on your face when he told you that evening, after everything had been sedated…that he intended to marry none other than Gabrielle Ashmore! Remember our surprise?”

  Cassidy nodded, her head resting against her husband’s still well-defined and muscular chest. “I do. I had been so distraught over my own love…that I had failed to see his. For even for his secretive manner, I should’ve guessed at it.”

  Mason took Cassidy’s face between his strong hands, and she gazed lovingly up at him, savoring every feature of him—his now-graying temples, the tiny wrinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. As his thumb caressed the small mole near her mouth, a grin spread across his face, prompting her own smile to begin.

  “And I shall never forget the look on your face on our wedding night,” Cassidy giggled.

  “Ah, yes,” Mason mumbled, an impish expression revealed in his charming smile, “when you appeared before me in that infamous red dress. I loved that dress. And in the end…it proved to be my final undoing.”

  He chuckled and kissed her lingeringly a moment. “What did I do to deserve you, Bliss?” he asked. “For I’ve done nothing to merit such happiness and love.”

  “You were born, sir,” she told him.

  Even now, after all the years of being together, of having her dreams come true, of being held in his strong arms each night, she thrilled as his kiss met her lips firmly. Sighing, she took hold of his wrists, intending to coax his arms into embracing her. She paused as she felt the cold gold bracelet beneath her palm.

  Mason delayed their kiss for a moment, asking, “What?”

  “Your shackle,” Cassidy answered.

  “Were it about my neck and a chain from it held tightly in your hand, I could be no less glad of it than I am now,” he chuckled. Cassidy threw her arms about her husband’s neck, never wanting to release him. Never wanting for him to release her.