Shackles of Honor

by Marcia Lynn McClure

  Devonna did not scold him for his tone toward her but rather continued, “The point is, when is the last time she drew her own strength from you, Mason? When did you last endeavor to comfort her? To reassure her that she is safe, welcome, and, yes, wanted here?”

  “She does not need me so much as you imagine, Mother,” he muttered in a somewhat dejected manner.

  “Does she not? Then you’ve not been watching her as have I.”

  “I watch her continually, Mother. How could I do otherwise?”

  “You have been watching her, yes. I’ve no doubt of that. But have you been observing her from an emotionally calm viewpoint? Do you remember her confidence when she first came? Her graceful carriage? She had an expression of strength and security in who she was. But now…now she enters a room, and her eyes often dart this way and that so as to avoid looking directly at anyone. More of the time than not she stands back against the wall in any given room…has her arms tightly entwined with each other around her waist…fidgets self-consciously with her hair or clothing. I’ve seen the tears filling her eyes several times a day. Please tell me you have not missed all these changes.”

  “She’s unhappy. Of course her manner would have changed,” Mason offered.

  “She’s unhappy, yes. But not for the reasons you still justify. In her own home she was loved, and she knew it. She was embraced, most likely several times a day, by loving parents or her brother. Encouraged so that she knew she was a good person, a desirable companion. Human beings need affection, Mason. Without it they grow sad and cold within. Cassidy is frightened of being the cause of your lifelong unhappiness. She is devastated with the knowledge that she must ever love you and never have that love returned.”

  “What nonsense you women talk!” he suddenly exploded. “You sound like Gabrielle! Ever going on and on about how miserable the girl is! Forcing upon me books of poetry in hopes of inspiring me toward the girl. What about me, Mother? Has my well-being ever once crossed your mind? Do you spend many a sleepless night over the fact that I—”

  “For twenty-three years I’ve had sleepless nights borne of worry for you, my love. Do not patronize me.” Devonna’s tone was firm. After a moment, she continued, “I know that Cassidy…that she is a temptation to you, Mason. Do not suppose that I do not pity you as much as I do her. But you are a strong and moral man. You will not…act inappropriately. Furthermore, this is your house. You are in familiar, secure surroundings.”

  “She tempts me beyond that which mortal man should be tempted, Mother. Fear not, for I would never falter and compromise her virtue. But I can never again weaken toward her in the least. For then…then my life would leave its organized state immediately as every deed I need perform would be put second to my preoccupation with a woman! Is that what you wish, Mother? To see me conquered?”

  “Do not be ridiculous, Mason. Of course not! And well you should know that a woman can be a man’s strength…”

  Cassidy could listen no more. Hurrying away from the door, she wondered how many other conversations had taken place in Lady Carlisle’s sitting room that concerned her. Many, many more than she ever cared to know about, it was certain. To have heard the lady trying to convince her son to give attention to his betrothed—Cassidy was humiliated! And had she really changed so much? Surely she had. She knew it to be true. How often, if ever, did she in fact smile? she wondered. How could a man find a woman attractive who wore a sour expression at all times, whose brow would be prematurely wrinkled from frowning and torrents of tears?

  The hour was late, and she would retire. It was her only respite. Sleep. Escape from conscious heartache and loss, though her dreams often mirrored the events in her life. Sleep would comfort her.

  But where was Mathias? Each night since Mason had ordered it, Mathias had slept in Cassidy’s chamber, ever the faithful protector. Yet now, he did not come when she called for him. He seemed to be nowhere in the house. And even when she called for him outside, pausing to note the beauty of the stars in the sky, he did not come. Cassidy could only assume that whatever had kept him from her company in the daytime was responsible for his absence this night.

  For a moment, a deep sense of foreboding began to rise within Cassidy. However, having heard the conversation between Mason and his mother, she did not desire to appear weak before him. Surely she would be safe for one night without Mathias near. Besides, Mason would be across the hall, and there had been no disturbing incidents for some time…since Lord Carlisle’s death.

  

  Cassidy leapt up from her bed, terror being her only motivation, and dashed out of her chamber and across the hall to Mason’s. Without even knocking and asking permission to intrude, her trembling hands struggled with the large latch of the door, finally freeing it. She pushed open the great slab of oak and stumbled into the room, closing the door quietly, but securely, behind her. Immediately she saw Mason asleep on the bed. He did not wear a nightshirt but had obviously fallen asleep in his trousers. Going quickly to the bed, she tried to calm herself with the knowledge that he was near.

  Should I wake him? she mused. Surely she should. After all, someone had come into her room only moments before—not a ghost, but a stranger. Someone who may have meant to harm her!

  She had wakened suddenly, with an oppressive sensation of foreboding, to see a dark figure standing in one corner of her room. When the figure then moved, proving itself more than an imaginary manifestation, she did not pause to be stricken paralyzed with fear.

  She reached out and pushed gently on Mason’s leg. He was lying the width of the bed instead of its length. His feet hung off its side in her direction. “Mason?” she prodded in a whisper, glancing nervously at the closed door to ensure it still served as protection. He did not stir, however, and her fear and uncertainty overtook her.

  She did not touch him again nor call out in a louder voice. Rather she began to weep with anxiety and, turning from him, sat down on the rug on the floor next to his bed, drew her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly, and buried her tear-stained face in her nightdress as she wept quietly. Again she glanced quickly at the door and imagined for a moment that the latch was slowly turning. Shaking her head and closing her eyes for a moment, she looked again to see that it remained unmoving. She wondered, as she had earlier, what had become of Mathias, for he would surely have heard the intruder enter her chamber and would have alerted his master to the danger.

  “What are you doing in here?” So startled was Cassidy at the sound of Mason’s voice that a quiet gasp escaped her lungs. Brushing the tears from her cheeks quickly, she turned to see him sitting up on the side of his bed, hair tousled, blurry-eyed, and frowning down at her. “What’s the matter?”

  “I…I…” she tried to explain. But her fear caused her words to be lost somewhere between her brain and her lips, and she could only sit, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks.

  Immediately he seemed to become fully alert, and his frown deepened. “Tell me!” he demanded, reaching down and taking hold of her arm.

  “There…there was someone in my room,” she managed to spit out. “Someone standing in the corner near the looking glass!”

  “Who?” he asked.

  Cassidy shook her head and tried to force out her words. “I…I do not know! I do not know. But he was there. I swear it to you! It was not my imagination. He moved toward me!”

  Mason pulled her to her feet and studied her face until she could stand his scrutiny no longer and turned her head from him. He still held her arm firmly.

  “Stay here,” he ordered, striding toward the door. Before she could argue in defense of his safety, he was gone, closing the door behind himself and leaving her alone in the room. It seemed an eternity that he was gone, but Cassidy knew it was only moments. Still, she looked about the room, expecting at any moment to see someone lurking in one corner. Mason returned shortly, closing the door behind him once more.

  “There is no one there,” he said flatly.<
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  “Someone was there. I swear it to you,” she assured him.

  Suddenly she felt foolish for panicking and running to him. Perhaps it had simply been her imagination that had conjured up the apparition. His scrutinizing gaze was too much to tolerate, and she pushed past him quickly, making for the door and escape. But he caught hold of her arm, hampering her attempted departure.

  “Hold here for a moment, Cassidy,” he mumbled. She turned to look at him, feeling foolish as a child being scolded for irrational fears.

  “You don’t believe me. You think I only dreamed it. But someone was there! I was wide awake when I saw him,” she defended herself.

  “I didn’t say that I don’t believe you. I simply said there is no one about in the room now. Further, where is Mathias? Why isn’t he with you? And how did someone gain access to your chamber when you have a bolt therein? Did you not secure it?”

  Cassidy pulled her arm from his grasp and cast her eyes to the floor as the hot sting of tears moistened her eyes. “I confess to you that I could not find Mathias when I sought him, and the bolt would not secure properly,” she responded in a meek whisper.

  “Why didn’t you come to me immediately when Mathias was not to be found?” he growled. Without allowing her to answer, he demanded, “And when you discovered the bolt would not lock, why didn’t you inform me even then?”

  Cassidy, no longer able to endure his chastisement in addition to the lingering terror engulfing her, sobbed, “You were in private conversation with your mother. I did not feel I could presume to interrupt.”

  “Foolish girl!” he shouted. “Did you not realize the possible ramifications of suffering yourself to retire unprotected? Truly you cannot think me callous enough that I would consider anything of greater importance than your safety!”

  Cassidy buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly, unable to respond to Mason’s outburst. Mason sighed heavily and drew Cassidy into the warm comfort of his protective embrace.

  “You tremble even yet, girl,” he mumbled compassionately. “I’m sorry I spoke so harshly. This…that someone would intrude on you, that you were in danger, unsettles me beyond your willingness to comprehend.”

  He held her tenderly, providing solace for long moments before he released her, strode to his door, and drew the bolt. Cassidy’s eyes widened in astonishment at his next words.

  “You will sleep with me the remainder of this night,” he ordered, returning to stand just before her. “And on the morrow we will fully investigate your chamber for some indications as to what has happened.”

  “Stay here? With you?” She nearly choked on the words so surprised was she at his suggestion. Her previous distress was subjugated by utter astonishment. “I cannot possibly stay the night in your chamber! It just is not done.”

  He grinned amusedly and answered, “Oh, believe me, sweet pudding, when I tell you that it is done. And often, in other residences. You and I are just from families with a different moral ethic.”

  “How dare you speak of such…things to me! You know perfectly well that I cannot stay here with you.”

  “Your virtue is in no danger. If that is what sparks you to such prudence…do not let it worry you,” he said mockingly.

  “I know perfectly well how safe my virtue is in your presence.” A dull aching had begun in her bosom at the admission, yet she strove to defend herself still. “But should anyone witness this…my reputation would be tarnished in the least.”

  “If your precious reputation is of utmost importance to you, why then did you come to my chamber in the middle of the night?” he nearly shouted, suddenly angry.

  “I didn’t intend to worm my way into your bed, if that is what you are implying!” she cried out.

  “Indeed, Miss Shea?” he taunted, raising one eyebrow.

  “Indeed, Lord Carlisle!” she averred. “I apologize that in a cursed moment of weakness I turned to you. Believe me, sir, when I say that it will not happen again.”

  Turning and dashing to the door, she began to struggle with the bolt, but it was a difficult contraption, and in a moment Mason’s large hand covered hers that struggled with the awkward contrivance. “You must always come to me for anything you need, Cassidy,” he mumbled lowly from behind her. She placed her palms on the large door before her and laid her forehead defeatedly to it as well. “You must trust in the knowledge that I am nothing if not your protector—your provider and champion.” His breath was warm on her neck as he bent to speak the words quietly and more directly into her ear.

  She turned to face him as he straightened to his full height. Again she noted that he wore only trousers, and it unnerved her greatly to be locked in his chamber, alone with him, she in her nightdress and bare feet and he in nothing but his trousers. She leaned back against the door in a vain attempt to distance herself further from him. His gaze was intent on her, and she noticed that his eyes traveled the length of her body and up once more, an entertained grin spreading across his features.

  “There was someone in my chamber,” she told him firmly.

  He nodded and chuckled slightly. “I know that for certain. For never would you have appeared thus before me in my chamber had there not truly been some threat.” He reached out and took a strand of her hair loosely in his hand, caressing its length with his fingers. “You look…inviting. I’m thus further encouraged in my expectations of those intimacies between us that will come to pass.”

  Cassidy moved to slap his face for his implicative words, though she relished his attention, for it had been absent for so long. But he easily caught her hand, retaining it with his own.

  “But it must be that I should save my role as your lover for another night and reconcile myself to being merely your protector on this one.”

  Cassidy’s jaw dropped and her mouth gaped open slightly in astonishment at his words. “How dare you!” she breathed.

  He continued to be amused by her reactions, and placing his palms on the door above her head and on either side of it, he leaned forward and whispered, “It has been far too long since we have had any dalliance together. Is that not true?”

  “You have your life, I have mine,” she stammered. However desperately she craved his attention, his glance, his kiss, the weeks that had passed since his father’s death had caused her to doubt his interest in her. She felt the need to provoke him as she had before.

  “‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ he will say. ‘You may kiss the bride,’ he will instruct me.” Cassidy tried to press her body back harder against the door, for Mason’s face was merely a breath away from her own now as he talked lowly to her. “Then I will kiss you, Miss Shea. Oh, but not thoroughly, you understand, for there will be too many prying eyes there. So I’ll kiss you quickly but well. Then we will exit the church and ride away in our magnificent wedding coach, which will carry us to whichever place we choose to be our blissful retreat. Then I’ll lead you by the hand, no doubt kicking and screaming, into that chamber that we will share. And I’ll bolt the door solidly behind you, as I have done this night.”

  His voice was deep, sultry, and Cassidy felt her breathing quicken though she tried to retain the anger she held for him at his mocking her.

  “You will, of course, be as afraid and untrusting of me as you are now…more so, no doubt. But it is then that I’ll kiss you thoroughly…proving to you that you have nothing to fear at my hand…yes, thoroughly kiss you, for a length of time to be later determined, before I take you in my arms, thus.”

  Cassidy was mesmerized by his words, by his expression and profound good looks, so that in that next moment, when he gathered her into his arms and began walking toward his bed, she could do no more than struggle slightly and stare hypnotically into his eyes.

  “And cradling you as such,” he continued as he stood next to his own bed, “I will carry you, as I’ve only just done, to whatever bed in the world we choose to be our first…and I’ll place you there, tenderly, of course…for, though you
look skeptical, I can show tenderness. And there, my Bliss, you will learn.”

  Mason dropped Cassidy rather abruptly onto his bed and stood looming over her for a long moment. He then leaned over, placing a fist at either side of her waist, and supporting himself on muscular arms, he bent toward her, whispering, “There you will learn just what a superior lover you have captured for yourself.” Cassidy’s mouth gaped open once more at his far too intimate verbiage. But he only smiled and said, “A good-night kiss, you ask? Certainly. I am happy to oblige you in any way that I can.”

  Before she could move to escape him, his mouth had taken her own in a warm and passionately driven kiss. After several long moments, however, Cassidy recalled the conversation she had overheard in Lady Carlisle’s sitting room. Again, a woman had instructed Mason to comfort her. Again, he did not do so of his own volition but at the urging of his mother. So with everything she was battling between wanting his kiss more than anything on the earth, wanting his arms around her eternally, yet striving to stay afloat in reality, she placed her hands to his cheeks and pushed his mouth from her own.

  “Please do not tease me so,” she whispered.

  His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, and in the next instant, he stood tall and straight at the side of the bed once more. “Sleep there in my bed tonight so that you may indeed rest,” he commanded. “You must always place your trust, your confidence, in me, Cassidy. For care for me or not…I will ever be your means of protection and strength, as I’ve expected and do expect your strength to be mine in time of need. We will live a long and sadly empty life together if you cannot finally and at last completely place your trust in me.” He settled himself in the large upholstered chair that stood near the hearth.

  “I…I do trust in your ability to protect me. In your desire to serve duty and do so,” she began. “But don’t think me such a fool as to believe that my simply trusting you will prevent your life with me from being a long and sadly empty one, sir.” He did not offer any response other than to glance at her once more before sighing deeply and closing his eyes.