“Yes,” Cassidy said, smiling as Lady Carlisle kissed her affectionately on the brow.
But so weakened was she still by Mason’s kiss, she wondered if her own legs could carry her to her chamber. Once in bed, however, she enjoyed reflecting on the moments in the library with Mason. Oh, he was divine! In every manner! And she could not help but think that he favored her somehow. Perhaps there was hope. He could not have kissed her so were he entirely loath toward her. Could he?
Chapter Fourteen
Cassidy was relieved when the presence of Mathias in her chamber at night stopped the distressing incidents. Her spirits were also lifted in the knowledge that Ellis would soon join her at Carlisle Manor.
Ellis would arrive in the late afternoon, his message to Lady Carlisle had stated. Since Mason was nowhere about, Cassidy made busy in various endeavors when she arose the next morning. At last, and as always, however, she found herself on the banks of the lake in the afternoon. She informed Havroneck where she was bound and was not so startled as she may have been to see Mason approaching after awhile. Her heart began to beat madly as she watched him stride toward her. All the physical and euphoric sensations, which blissfully drowned her the night before as he held her in his arms, returned anew, and she nearly turned from him as the heated blush of delight at the memory rose to her cheeks immediately.
He offered no greeting but simply said, “He arrives at any moment then?”
“Ellis?” Cassidy stammered.
“Is someone else due to arrive of whom I am ignorant?” he asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.
“No. No, of course not,” Cassidy answered. It was clear his defenses against being flirtatious or otherwise amiable were as solid as granite this day.
Rain had fallen in the night and left in its wake a large muddied area close to where Cassidy stood. “It’s wise you would be to be careful so near to such muck,” Mason mumbled. “You wouldn’t want to taint your pristinely polished slippers.”
“Why do you make to be so cruel in your tone toward me?” she asked. He truly tortured her in toying with her emotions.
“You mean after my less than torturous exhibition toward you last evening?” he teased, turning from her and looking back toward the gardens.
How Mason did vex her at times! He was completely spoiled. So entirely sure of himself and used to his every whim being adhered to, he thought he could simply manipulate her daily. He had held her in his arms and given up a passion to her from which she would never recover. He held her in his complete control, and the knowledge of it angered her. Without thought to further consequence, Cassidy reached down and drew up a handful of the mossy, mucky mud at her feet. Before she could think, she watched her own arm betray her good sense and send the mess hurling through the air to land solidly at the back of his neck.
The splatter the muck created was even worse than she could have imagined. It soaked his neck, stuck in his hair, spotted his shirt, and ran down his collar onto his back. He stopped, not turning at first to look at her, and raised a hand to the back of his head. He looked at his mud-covered fingers casually. He turned, slowly, glaring at her with intense, angry eyes. “This is my favorite shirt, girl!” he growled, stomping through the mud toward her.
“Hold there, sir!” Cassidy warned, bending and filling her hand once more with the liquefied earth. “You’re a spoiled brat of a boy! How can a man with seventeen thousand shirts to his name deem one his favorite?”
He stopped cold in his tracks and looked daringly at the handful of mud she held. “I will take you down in this mess, girl. You need a mud bath to squelch that high opinion you have of yourself!” he shouted.
He took two steps more toward her, and she let go of the slop in her hand. It hit him squarely in the chest, soaking his perfectly white shirt and splattering into his face. His chest rose and fell heavily as he glared at her and stripped himself of the soiled shirt. Throwing it down into the mud behind him, he began to walk toward her.
“Hold your ground, sir!” Cassidy screeched, though a giggle borne of the sight of him in such a state threatened to escape her lips. Bending down, she began flinging mud at him with both hands, screaming as he then lunged at her, pushing her back into the muck. She laughed as she felt her hair soaking up the slop. The back of her dress was soaked the full length of her body, and she heard Mason’s amused chuckle as he slipped and now sat beside her fully covered in mud from his waist down.
“I told you it was my favorite shirt,” he chuckled.
Cassidy pushed at his hands as he began smearing mud all up and down the front of her skirt and bodice waist. “Stop!” she cried out, still laughing. But he only chuckled, and she felt cool, gritty mud as he wiped it on her face and throat. “You are two times my size. You are not playing fair!”
“It would do you well, my little mud pie, not to pick on the big boys then,” he laughed.
Cassidy sat up, pushed hard, and sent him backward into the sludge as well. Her clothes were heavy with mud, and she awkwardly struggled to her feet, lifted her skirts, and quickly ran from him. Almost immediately she felt his arms around her waist, pulling her up short of her escape. He held her back against his chest as she giggled and struggled to get away.
“You shall pay for my favorite shirt, imp,” he chuckled softly into her ear. The feel of his warm breath on her neck sobered her a bit, and she ceased her struggles. Mason released her, and still laughing, she turned to face him. He was smiling, white teeth flashing through the brown mess of mud that covered his face. “You are a mud-coated treat,” he noted.
“And you are unclothed and uncouth,” she giggled.
“Really?” he mumbled. Reaching out, he tugged lightly at the shoulder of her bodice, which had somehow torn severely in the pother. Cassidy looked down at the destroyed shoulder seam and gasped as the back of Mason’s mud-caked hand caressed her shoulder slowly, smearing mud on her pristine, soft flesh.
“Oh, sir! May we join in your game?” Martin and Gregory asked, stepping from behind the hedges with small ships tucked neatly under their arms.
“Well,” a familiar voice spoke, and Ellis suddenly appeared as well, “I’m glad to see the two of you have found means of relieving your frustrations.” He too tugged at the limp piece of cloth at Cassidy’s shoulder. “At least you did not murder, maim, or molest one another. Mud—a good moral choice, though I do have to raise my brow at finding you both only half attired.”
“I’m fully attired, Ellis Shea, and well you know it!” Cassidy scolded him, her face turning crimson beneath its mask of mud.
“Alas, I fear she is right,” Mason sighed dramatically. “Though as you can well see, Ellis…” He pointed to his muddy handprint blatant on Cassidy’s bare shoulder. “I did try to remedy the fact.”
Cassidy’s mouth dropped open as both men and two small boys looked at her and chuckled with pure mirth evident in their eyes. “You’re both…all of you simply…monstrous!” she exclaimed. Lifting her skirts, she trudged awkwardly toward the house.
“May we expect you back to play later, Miss Shea?” Gregory called. But she simply waved a hand and continued plodding toward the house.
“Come now, Cass, do not act so vexed. It was plain by the veritable twinkle in your lovely eyes that you were elated by his attentions,” Ellis said, catching up to her and matching her stride.
“His attentions?” she fairly screeched at him. “This dress is ruined! I am head to toe in mud!”
“But Lady Carlisle said you had only left to walk down to the lake minutes before I arrived. And he followed shortly. So how is it that you are both found dipped in mud so very soon after your rendezvous?”
“Ellis Shea! It is glad I am to see you. But, please, I need no more teasing manner from anyone just now. Can we not just visit?”
“Of course, darling, after you have bathed. Mason’s handprint blatant upon the bareness of your shoulder might so distract me, due to my feeling of obligation to report it to Father
, that I may not be relaxed and comfortable during our visit.”
“You are the most exasperating man,” Cassidy scolded him.
“Are you certain, darling, that I’m the most exasperating? I think there is another who now gives me some competition in that regard,” he chuckled.
“And to think, I was looking forward to your visit,” Cassidy grumbled to him over her shoulder as they neared the house.
Once bathed and appropriately attired once more, she found Ellis on the veranda with Lady Carlisle.
“Darling! Are you presentable once more?” he greeted as she approached.
“I’m uncertain. What think you then?” she teased him, no longer vexed at his intruding on the moment of humor she and Mason had shared earlier.
“I’ll leave you two to your visit,” Lady Carlisle said. “LaMont will be glad for my company.” She left quickly. Cassidy had learned it served no purpose to argue with Lady Carlisle in asking her to stay. Her desires were ever toward her husband.
“He’s much worse, is he not?” Ellis asked. “It’s apparent in her countenance and in Mason’s.”
“He’s daily worsening, Ellis. He’s such a wonderful man! To strip the earth of him, to strip his family of him, seems so unfair,” Cassidy said.
Ellis took Cassidy’s hand and kissed it lovingly. “The impending loss is evident in you as well. I’m sorry that you’re having to endure so much.”
“So,” Cassidy sighed, forcing a smile and trying to seem more joyful, “how was your business in Haggarty?”
“All went well,” Ellis answered. “And I told you that I had seen your good friend Gabrielle Ashmore. My, she is a beauty, that one.”
“You do know how to lift my spirits and feed me encouragement, Ellis,” Cassidy grumbled.
“I’ll have you know that you should be encouraged, for I sense an abundant sweetness and honesty about her. She will give you no further grief.”
“You’re siding with her? Against me?” Cassidy asked in wonderment. Hurt was throbbing in her bosom. Her own brother!
“Darling, she is no threat. I only reassure you that you should put her out of your mind…forget Mason’s dalliance with her…realize that your jealousy borne of her is a waste of energy.”
“I…I’m doing better in that regard. Still, her name haunts me. It seems to be everywhere I turn. Only yesterday there was a book of poetry from which Mason had me read. The nameplate within indicated that it belonged to her…and I—”
“You’re reading poetry to each other now?” Ellis asked, amused.
“Quit being so dramatic, Ellis. I read to him, yes. He asked me to and—”
“And was it verses of a romantic nature?”
“Well…yes. But that is completely irrelevant. I—”
“Irrelevant my backside!”
“Ellis Shea!”
“Did the evening of reading end in a mud bath, or did the both of you bathe in the warmth of each other’s embrace and—”
“You were born to vex me!” Cassidy exclaimed.
“Deny it then, Cass. Deny to me that you’re not so completely convinced of his disregard for you. I tell you, Cass…you have him completely. He is a wreck! Look at his manner of dress! Completely unattended to. A perpetual frown on his face.”
“What would you know of it?”
“What would I know of a man in love with a woman and trying to convince himself otherwise? More than you know.” The seriousness of Ellis’s tone and the lack of mirth evident on his face gave Cassidy cause to pause.
“Ellis? Is there something…someone you’re not telling me about?” she asked. There had never been a woman to take the smile from Ellis’s face. Never.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Cass. How your mind does conjure,” he mumbled.
Still, Ellis was very reserved for the remainder of his visit. He and Mason talked a great deal about business, politics, and horses. Cassidy began to understand that something was bothering her beloved brother. Always before he had confided in her, but not this time—never a word about anything amiss in his life. It saddened Cassidy that her relationship with her brother had changed. It was yet another thing to worry her. Because of his obvious anxiety, she chose not to burden him with her own fears that either she had been tormented by someone of a mischievous nature or that she was leaning toward madness.
Mason was indeed suddenly more attentive to Cassidy—more apt to wink or smile at her and not always so argumentative. Still, he was away most of the time on business, and Cassidy began to feel further disturbed for wondering that, even if she did win him somehow, would he ever be at her side? Or would business keep him away always?
It was a cloudy afternoon, and Mathias was nowhere to be found. Cassidy had long ago settled on the assumption that the great black Lab had a female companion somewhere that kept him away of recent. With him gone again, she decided to ride to the cliffs. She had Nobel saddle a mount for her and rode away from the house toward the cliffs. There was a fairly strong breeze, and rain seemed imminent. Still, the ride and wind were exhilarating.
Having reached the cliffs, she tethered the horse to a nearby tree and walked toward the edge, intending to enjoy a peaceful hour of reflection. It had not been a quarter of an hour when Mason appeared astride his violent bay, dismounted, and, dropping the reins of his own horse, strode angrily toward her.
“You notified no one of your intended destination, Miss Shea! It is very predictable that I should find you here after I specifically forbade you to come here. Further, I have no doubt that you frequent this hellish place as often as you can sneak away! Havroneck is beside himself trying to keep Mother calm about you!” he shouted.
“I am ever careful when I come here, sir. And further, I am not your slave. I may go where I please!” she shouted back.
“My only concern is for your safety, and well you know it,” he told her. She could see the large beads of perspiration apparent on his forehead, even for the cool weather and breezes. Instantly she felt guilty. He had some horrid fear of the place, some uncontrollable anxiety, that overtook him when he was near it. It was disrespect in his eyes that she should insist upon going there.
“I am sorry, sir. Of course you’re right. You’ve good reason, no doubt, for concern, and I’m wrong to defy you,” she admitted. “But…but can I not sit here in the meadows if I stay far in from the edge?” she pleaded. “It’s such a beautiful and peaceful place to me.”
“Peaceful as a graveyard,” he mumbled, looking out toward the sea. “I’ll stay with you. I know it’s not what you planned, that your peaceful solitude will be destroyed…but it is the only way I can agree.” He smiled then and chuckled unexpectedly. “Can you not see Havroneck trying to calm my hysterical mother?”
Cassidy thought of the expressionless, always somber butler and smiled at imagining his trying to be a comfort to anyone, let alone Lady Carlisle, and nodded her agreement.
“We cannot tarry, for mother will worry for your safety,” Mason told her.
“He seems quite young to hold such a high position in your household,” Cassidy ventured. She had always wondered how a man apparently not much older than the young master of the manor himself was deemed qualified and experienced enough to be headman.
“Indeed, he is but three years older than myself,” Mason admitted. “When I became old enough that Father felt it was needed for me to have a valet, Havroneck was hired for the position. But I think a man who must have another man help him attire is no full-grown man in my own mind. So, I told Father that I didn’t want a valet. Father felt responsible to provide employment for Havroneck, considering the fact he had ensured him a position at Carlisle Manor. So Father quickly put Havroneck into apprenticeship with our headman Robert.” Mason smiled a moment as if relishing a fond memory. “Old Robert is what we always called him.”
Mason paused for a moment. “In fact…it was not two years hence that Old Robert died, and Havroneck s
tepped into his boots as smoothly as the river runs. Never have I known him to make a mistake or forget an important task. He’s quite efficient…if sometimes lacking in personality.” Cassidy smiled in agreement. Havroneck was definitely not what one might call a lively character. “Why do you ask? What is this sudden interest in Havroneck? Have you formed an infatuation for him?”
“No!” Cassidy exclaimed, completely astonished at his inquiry.
“What then?” Mason coaxed. It was apparent he was devoutly interested in why Cassidy should ask him of Havroneck.
“Well…if the truth be told…” she stammered.
“Tell the truth for it to be told, girl,” he demanded.
“Well…I…I’m somewhat untrusting where Havroneck is concerned. He…he gives my skin cause to prickle at times when he looks at me with those piercing, disapproving eyes. He gives me the sensation that I should be suspicious toward him,” she confessed.
Mason was silent and only stood frowning down at her as if carefully considering her remark. After long moments, he asked, “Has he acted inappropriately toward you in any manner?”
“Oh, no!” Cassidy responded quickly. “No. It is just my own…”
“Insecurities,” Mason finished for her.
“Yes, I suppose,” she admitted.
“Would it comfort you to know that I regard him in very high esteem? I’ve never known him to give any cause to feel him untrustworthy.”
“I know how highly you regard him. That is why I’m certain my discomfort is unfounded,” Cassidy muttered, regretting having mentioned her concerns to Mason. It was obvious he held far more faith in Havroneck than in her.
“Still, I’m prudent enough to recognize that women often have a great power of comprehending a man’s spirit. Men in general, through my experience, are ruled by surface appearances—what the flesh maintains—while women often perceive greater knowledge of character and intention.” He reached out and took hold of her arm. “I take your concerns to heart and at the same time offer encouragement and security in the knowledge that I’ve never known Havroneck to give me any cause for disconcert.”
Shackles of Honor Page 31
