Cassidy looked away as she struggled to comprehend it all. Her father had loved Mason’s mother? Had wished to marry her? “But…but I’m certain my father loves my mother. Truly loves her!” she blurted out. If she were to find out her father had loved another woman for the past twenty-five years, if she were to understand that her own mother had not been in his heart…
“Calvert does love Cylia, Cassidy. As I love Devonna. There was no deceit when it came to their sincere affection and feeling for each other, my dear. Your mother was understanding, patient, and compassionate, as was I. Perhaps that is why Cylia and I have our own unique bond of friendship.” He paused before asking, “You know my wife’s full name as it stood before her marriage, do you not?”
Cassidy could not understand the relevance of the question. What did Mason’s mother’s name have to do with the situation at hand? “No, sir. And I do not understand why—”
“Devonna’s full name is thus: Devonna Sabine Bliss. She is Devonna Bliss Carlisle, my dear.”
Cassidy slumped forward in her chair, burying her face in her hands. “You’re telling me that my father named me after Mason’s mother?” she asked, looking up to him.
“No. Your mother named you, child—to show your father that she held no bitterness against him for loving another before her.”
“Why was I never told this tale? Why, even when Mason appeared at Terrill and I was expected to return here with him…to wed him? Why was I not told?” she asked, tears streaming down her lovely cheeks.
“I suppose to avoid the sense of insecurity…the sense of doubt in your parents’ affections for each other you are now having. They do love each other, dove. I do not pretend that perhaps Devonna and Calvert would not have known happiness as well. But Devonna loves me, and your father loves and cherishes your mother. The gold band…the bracelet your father wears. Do you know of its origin?” He struggled to sit upright, and Cassidy helped him to do so.
“No, sir. I admit I do not,” she stated. “But I know it is his most valuable earthly possession.”
“A token of devotion, my dove. Of love undeniable. I myself had it crafted for him. We had by then become quite amiable friends, soon after he and Cylia were married. If you were to chance hold it, you could gaze at the inner circle and read the inscription there…a pledge of eternal love to your mother. Her name is also engravened in the pledge. He had me commission someone to craft it, for I have a friend who is an extremely gifted jeweler, and he presented it to her the night he confessed that Devonna had long since departed from his heart and there was only Cylia there. He told her that it represented his soul and how it was a prisoner to her will, her heart, forever. Have her tell you of it sometime. It was more imaginative than my pledge to Devonna,” he said, smiling and pointing to his chest where Cassidy knew his tattoo to reside. “And more vividly reminding.”
Cassidy sat in silence, unable to fully comprehend all he was telling her. How could their families, hers and Mason’s, be so completely intertwined and she never guess at any of it?
“Now,” he continued weakly, “I tell you this for the simple reason that you deserve to know. For the reason that I now leave the choice to you. I grant you your freedom, Cassidy Shea. Freedom to return to your family and choose for yourself with whom you will spend your days. If you choose to go, I will tell Mason and the others…your parents and Devonna. I have nothing to lose this close to death.”
“Do not say that! Please! You cannot die! You…you’re Mason’s father!” Cassidy exclaimed, suddenly panicked. It appeared to her that the man was living his last hours. The loss, she knew, would be devastating to Mason.
“You must accept, my dear. But let me finish before we discuss…me. I am offering you a way out, child. The chance to avoid being forced into marriage with my son.” He smiled and took her hand once more. “Tell me if I’m wrong. Truly tell me. You do not want freedom from him, do you?”
Cassidy brushed the tears from her cheeks with her free hand. “What I want does not matter, sir. I do not want to condemn him to a life—”
“Life with you, my dove…would not be considered condemnation by any man ever born.”
“But he harbors no love for me. Though I think he is accepting me as his fate…even possibly in a manner of friendship…still, he does not love me.”
Lord Carlisle smiled understandingly. “You’ve been here two months, my dear. You know Mason well by now. Or at least part of him. Do you really believe he would marry you if he had no desire to do so?”
“Yes! Because you wished it, and he is respecting of you, honors you without question.”
“Mason is honorable, a profound rarity in men. He fills my bosom to swelling with pride. But he is independent as well. He would not take you to him if he did not wish it.”
“No. You are wrong, sir. I am merely a burden for him to bear. He has no—”
“Quiet your doubts, my girl. I’ve seen the man undone with my own eyes since you have come here. There is the matter of his sleeplessness, his near constant agitation. And…and I will reveal something else, though he would strike me down with his own hand if he knew I had done so.”
Cassidy’s attention was indeed arrested, and she looked to him, waiting anxiously for him to speak.
“There was a young man at Terrill. Gavin was his name, I believe.”
“Yes,” Cassidy admitted. What would this man know of Gavin? she wondered.
“This suitor of yours…this Gavin. Mason paid the man to leave you.”
“No. No, he offered. He tossed twenty thousand at his feet, but Gavin refused it.”
“No, he did not.” Lord Carlisle was founded in his conviction. There was no reason for Cassidy to disbelieve him. But she had seen with her own eyes Gavin’s refusal of the money—seen Gavin profess his love for Cassidy, not Cassidy’s money. “Prior to your meeting in the woods, Mason intercepted him, paying him thirty thousand to behave as if his love for you were greater than any price.”
She did not think he was lying. Yet why? Why would Mason pay Gavin to feign true love when it would have been easier for Cassidy to leave her home had she known Gavin’s true intent? “Why then?” she asked. “Why would he pay him to act so when it would have been so easy to—”
“To protect you, my dear.”
“Protect me from what? Why would such a thing protect me?”
“Would it have hurt you to know the boy had been wooing you for your position? Your wealth?”
Cassidy thought for a moment and then answered honestly. “Yes. I would have been hurt. My trust in people would have been damaged beyond repair.”
“Honest girl that you are. Another quality I admire in you, Cassidy—a quality I have always admired in my son as well. That is why I was so astonished when he confessed his deed of deception to me. But he did it out of concern…out of growing care for you, my dear.” He drew in a deep breath, and it seemed difficult for him. “I ask you again, Cassidy. And please, answer quickly, for I feel my time is short. Do you want your freedom from this arrangement to marry Mason?”
“No,” Cassidy answered truthfully and without pause.
“Do you indeed love my son, Cassidy?”
“Yes,” and her tears began again.
“Then I tell you now, I know you will be happy. As blissfully and blessedly happy as I have been with Devonna.”
“But wait. You must offer to Mason this retreat. You must. Though my heart will ever be owned by him alone…you must not force him to live with someone whom he does not wish to, sir.” The words burned fiery hot in Cassidy’s throat as she forced them from her lips. Mason would run from her when offered the chance from the man he most admired and wanted to please. He would send her home and be done with her. And she would be left with the pain. The bitter, bitter heartache. Unlike Calvert and Cylia, unlike Devonna and LaMont…she would never love another with the full, deep love of her soul. Mason was her love. She found her one true love, and she must lose him to save h
im.
“He will not waver, Cassidy. He will not release himself from his promise. Nor does he desire it.”
“But…but you must offer, sir. You must! I cannot—”
“I fear I must see Mason and Devonna, my dear.” His breathing became labored and raspy. “Please, my pet…knowing that I love you…knowing I leave Mason in your hands and heart…leave me to my final moments, and send in my beloved, Devonna. Let me have my true bliss in her arms one last time.”
Cassidy could not pause, for she sensed the very shadow of death hovering over the man. Recognizing the uncomfortable heat of his fevered body, she laid her head on his breast for a moment as his weak arms embraced her. “Please, Father. Do not leave me to bear your son’s pain of loss like this,” she whispered softly through her tears.
Taking her face between his hands, Lord Carlisle turned her face toward his own. “I would have loved you too, my dove.” Cassidy saw the moisture heavy in his eyes as he looked lovingly upon her. “Now, kiss me quickly and send in the others.”
Cassidy reached out, took the man’s face in her hands, and kissed him lingeringly on his forehead, which was moist with perspiration, and whispered, “Thank you, sir, for helping to bring such a man to life on this earth. For loving your wife enough to contrive this planned betrothal and being the means of delivering the object of my unfathomable love into my arms even for a short time.”
Quickly then, she dashed to the door, flinging it open to see Devonna and Mason in each other’s embrace. “Quickly now, milady. He is in need of you.”
“Mason!” she heard Lord Carlisle’s call weakly from the room. “Devonna! Mason! Quickly!”
Cassidy covered her mouth with a trembling hand, and tears flooded her cheeks as she watched Mason and his mother hurry into the room, closing the door behind them. She collapsed against the wall, sobbing bitterly as several more servants came bounding up the stairs wondering at the commotion. It was a long, drawn out quarter of an hour that the large hall clock counted away as Cassidy sobbed grievously against the hard stone wall. The servants dabbed at tears with their aprons, and Mathias whimpered now and again.
Cassidy’s entire being startled viciously when there came a profoundly anguished scream from Lady Carlisle within the room. “No! No! LaMont? Please, LaMont! Do not leave me here alone! No!”
Cassidy watched the large oak door, waiting with trepidation for it to open and reveal the stricken widow and her son. Sobbing wracked her body nearly beyond which was endurable while conscious. The servants began sobbing as well, taking comfort in the embraces of each other. Mathias barked twice and then, with a defeated whine, stretched out on the floor, resting his head on his front legs. He too watched the door to the chamber with great trepidation, no doubt.
Cassidy gasped as the door that held her attention swung open violently, revealing Mason, pale at having faced death, standing grave and angry at the threshold. He strode angrily across the hallway until he stood before Cassidy, glaring down into her tear-filled eyes. He was silent for a long moment. It was apparent he was fighting to control his emotions.
In a voice that was deeply angry, yet hurting, he said, “He is gone. Do not think my father’s death will free me or you from our obligation!” His voice cracked and faltered several times with emotion. “And do not think a period of mourning will delay our marriage. For he told me, as he drew his last breath…that he wished it to take place as prearranged.” Turning from her suddenly, he strode away, pushing his way through the sobbing servants, down the stairway, and out of the house. Even his faithful dog knew better than to follow his stricken master.
After Cassidy watched him leave, her body still trembling with anxiety and sorrow, she looked to Lady Carlisle, who knelt beside her husband’s bed. She was still holding his hand as she pleaded quietly with him to awaken and return to her. Cassidy closed her eyes—envisioned her own pain had it been her kneeling on the floor and Mason dead before her in his bed. At once she rushed to the woman’s side.
“Please, please, please, LaMont. Please. You cannot possibly expect me to endure this!” Lady Carlisle sobbed. She looked up as Cassidy knelt beside her on the floor. “Only a moment ago he was telling of our love! Calling me ‘dove’ as he loved to do and assuring me that all would be well. He cannot possibly have left me, Cassidy. He cannot have left me.”
“It…it was not his choice to leave, milady,” Cassidy soothed, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on the woman’s knee. “You know he would never leave you given a choice.”
Lady Carlisle closed her eyes and seemed to compose herself slightly. When she looked to Cassidy once more, she opened her hand and showed Cassidy the large gold locket that rested in her palm. “His last gift to me,” the widow sobbed. “Himself.” The locket was open, and Cassidy beheld a perfect miniature likeness of Lord Carlisle. Releasing her husband, Devonna reached out, taking Cassidy’s face in her hands. “You must help Mason through this time of grief, Cassidy. He does not deal well with loss. I am weakened…acutely lost in this, and I will not have it in me to carry myself and my son through.”
“But it is not me he will want now! He will not want my interference. I am not…I am not…” Cassidy stammered.
“Leave me now, dove. Leave me with my beloved. Perhaps he will yet awaken again. Perhaps he is simply greatly fatigued.” She paused then, shaking her head and whispering, “No. You must send word to your mother and father that LaMont is gone.” Lady Carlisle rose from her knees and threw herself across the peaceful body of her husband as sobbing again wracked her body. Cassidy rose and rushed from the room, looking back once at the irony of Lord Carlisle free from his pain and his wife’s only just beginning.
Chapter Fifteen
Somehow Cassidy found her way to her room. She sobbed until her body could stand no more physical exertion, had no more moisture to lend her eyes as tears, and then she fell asleep. When she awoke, hours into the night, it was to the sound of sobbing servants yet again. Of crashing noises that seemed to be close at hand. Rising from her bed, she went to her basin and pressed a moistened cloth against her face, which still felt swollen as a result of such deep crying. She poured herself a glass of water. As she was emptying the contents of the glass, she was startled by another loud crash that she realized came from the vicinity of across the hall, from the direction of Mason’s room.
Quickly she went to her door and out into the hall to see several female servants sobbing with fright into their aprons. Havroneck looked on as two of the menservants stood outside Mason’s door, ears pressed firmly to it. Mathias leapt and paced, completely agitated.
“He is in a fit of anger, miss,” Havroneck stated as Cassidy approached.
“Has he locked himself in then?” Cassidy asked.
“No, miss. But he has destroyed every vase in the house, and we thought it unwise to follow him in when he went into his room.”
“And Lady Carlisle?” Cassidy asked.
“The doctor gave her something to help her sleep. I did not want her disturbed,” Havroneck explained.
Cassidy jumped involuntarily as something else seemed to crash against the inner walls of Mason’s room. At that moment, the fear that he might injure himself somehow gave rise to sudden courage, and she pushed open the door to Mason’s room and stepped inside, closing it and blocking the view of the curious domestics. Mason, who had been standing with his back to her staring out the window, intent, no doubt, on smashing its glass panes as well, whirled around wrathfully to face her.
Cassidy was startled by his complete state of dishevel. His cravat had disappeared, his shirt hung fully open, and his hair, normally brushed back so perfectly, was entirely mussed. “Get out!” he shouted at her, and she winced at the fury in his voice, fury borne of pain and suffering.
“Please, calm yourself, sir. You are frightening everyone,” she said calmly, though her heart hammered like a thousand horses’ hooves in a mad gallop.
“Who? Who am I frightening
? You?” he shouted.
“The servants, sir. And…and though your mother is resting now…I know you do not wish to disturb her further.”
Mason stood glaring at her. Cassidy took the uncomfortable moment to survey the room quickly. The basin and pitcher, the full-length mirror that had been in the corner, everything breakable had been broken.
“I…I know the pain you are feeling, sir,” she ventured. “But please—”
“You know nothing of the pain I am feeling, girl!” he shouted suddenly. “You have not had to stand helplessly by as you lose a parent. Nor a sibling. You have lost nothing! Nothing but your freedom perhaps! Which maybe I never possessed!”
“You are right. I’ve not had to suffer as you are now suffering. And I’m so sorry. So deeply in agony for your sake that—” she began.
“Ha!” he burst out in a laugh of deep sarcasm. “So you suffer with me, is that it? You are experiencing my pain! Is that what you profess?”
“Please, sir. You have to—”
“There is nothing that I have to do! My father is dead! Miss Shea, I am lord of the manor now! My word is law here! My every demand met! My every need attended to! There is nothing that I have to do!” He looked about the room and stretched his arms out to his sides. “All this! All this is mine! I can break everything in this house if I so desire. If it helps me to feel better!”
“But it does not,” Cassidy muttered.
Immediately she began to tremble, for he glared at her hatefully. He was enraged with grief, and she knew it. As he began to stride toward her with the full wrath of a madman evident in his eyes, his open shirt caught on his bedpost, deterring him, and he literally tore the garment from his body and flung it to the floor. Stopping directly before her, his hot breath feeling like the wild breath of a mad stallion on her forehead, he asked, “How do you know? How do you know what helps me? What I want?”
Cassidy began to wonder how wise she had been to intrude upon his emotional outburst. He took hold of her shoulders firmly, and the expression in his eyes changed dramatically as he looked down at her. “If you knew what I want…as you profess…you would not come into this room when I am in such a state of loss of self-control.”
Shackles of Honor Page 33
