Shackles of Honor

Shackles of Honor
by Marcia Lynn McClure

www.marcialynnmcclure.com

All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, the contents of this book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any part or by any means without the prior written consent of the author and/or publisher.

Published by Distractions Ink

P.O. Box
15971
 

Rio
Rancho
,
NM
 
87174

©Copyright
1998, 2002, 2009,
2012 by M. L. Meyers

A.K.A. Marcia Lynn McClure

Cover Photography by ©
Flexflex
/
Dreamstime.com
,
©
Shamtor/Dreamstime.com
and
©
Moreenblackthorne
/
Dreamstime.com
Cover Design by Sheri L. Brady/MightyPhoenixDesignStudio.com

Third
Printed Edition: 2012

All character names and personalities in this work of fiction

are entirely fictional, created solely in the imagination of the author.

Any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

McClure, Marcia Lynn, 1965—

Shackles of Honor
: a novel/by Marcia Lynn McClure.

Print Book
ISBN: 
9780985280741

Print Book
Library of Congress Control Number: 
2001012345

Printed in the
United States of America

For the laughter that made our backs ache

And the shared and shed tears of our broken hearts.

And…

For being part of my soul…forever.

Chapter One

Life had always been that of immense privilege for Cassidy Shea. Her father, Lord Calvert Shea, was a dominant figure in society.
He was popular in the most desirable of circles not only because of his fantastic wealth and titled position but also for his profound physical attractiveness and unique good nature. Cassidy’s mother, Cylia St. Martin Shea, was also immeasurably well
received. She was of excellent breeding, an erudite and magnificently gifted hostess
,
and also very beautiful. Cassidy’s elder brother, Ellis Martin Shea, was well educated, quite astoundingly handsome
,
and groomed to perfection, ready to accommodate his father’s mantle of title and position at any given moment. It was obvious and often said that the Sheas of Terrill were the finest of families—from all outward appearances well bred, happy
,
and content.

For Cassidy Shea, life could not have been
more perfect from birth through her present seventeen years. Everything was delightful, every need provided for—every day without major tragedy or other undesirable incident. Her coming
-
out, for instance, had been glorious, grand
,
and indescribably successful. And she had immediately been bombarded with a barrage of handsome and worthy young suitors in the year and few months since.

Still, in spite of the family’s popularity and glory,
the perfections of the house, stables
,
and gardens of Terrill,
and
all her father and mother’s attentions—the like of which many wealthy children were stripped, having been laid in the arms of nannies and governesses since the days of their births—it ever seemed to Cassidy that something lurked among the quiet corners of life at Terrill. It felt eerie, as if all truths were not perfectly tangible.
For there had been times, especially of late, when she came upon her mother, a woman renowned for her command of emotions, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief or her needlework.
Times when her father stood at the library window gazing out across the gardens, book in hand and open, yet never reading one solitary word upon its pages.

It appeared to Cassidy that these times of unrest, of secret sorrow or worry, had increased since her own coming
-
out. It seemed that each time a young suitor was admitted into the parlor with her and her mother for a short visit, her mother glanced almost regretfully at Cassidy
,
as if she were somehow pitying her young daughter.

Ellis went about his life as casual and carefree as ever. He had no greater concern at times than whether his stallion w
ere
the fastest in the county. He never seemed melancholy, and Cassidy wondered if perhaps he was ignorant to whatever it was that seemed to unsettle her parents in rare and quiet moments.

The incidents of concern apparent in her mother’s countenance gradually escalated. As a result, one cool, late afternoon in spring
,
Cassidy found herself standing before the large looking glass in her chamber studying her appearance—the color of her skin and form of her body—wondering if perhaps she w
ere
stricken with some ghastly disease of which her parents had kept her ignorant.

She didn’t appear to herself as if she were disease-stricken. She had her father’s rather plain, unexciting hue of brown hair. Still
,
it was long, soft
,
and tinted with red highlighting when the sun caught it just so. Her complexion was her mother’s—porcelain smooth, fair
,
and flawless, save for the small and subtle brown mole just above her upper lip on the right corner of her mouth. Her nose was of normal shape and size, her chin not too pointy nor too flat, her cheekbones high with just the right amount of pronunciation. Her eyebrows matched the color of her hair, and her eyes were a rather common shade of hazel.
Her eyes were one of her glories, for they were perfectly almond-shaped and shaded by long, dark, almost ebony
-
black eyelashes. Feeling satisfied with her head, for she had heard it said in quiet whisperings that she was considered nothing less than at least very pretty, she turned to study her shape and form at a sideways angle in the glass.

It was true—she was not overly tall. Neither was she too short. Her height measured five feet three inches
—
a height to be proud of, her mother told her. And her figure, though rather more buxom than she would have preferred but by no means abnormal, was quite well
proportioned. Her hips were small but well curved
,
and her waist measured an enviable eighteen inches.

Turning to face the glass straight on once more, she frowned and sighed. She looked normal, but each time her parents studied her of late, there came an expression of regret of some sort across their faces.

Cassidy had only just stretched out her arms to her sides to assure herself regarding the straightness of her bones when Ellis stepped into the room. He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest, studying her with an amused grin.

“Go away!” Cassidy ordered, irritated at his intrusion.

Ellis ran a confident hand through his rather mussed auburn hair and asked, “Are you simply drowning in vanity, dear one? Or can you offer some other explanation for your infatuation with that looking glass?”

Cassidy rolled her eyes exasperatedly and shook her head. “I said
g
o away.”

“But I have news. And I think you will want to hear it.” Ellis smiled mischievously at his sister, his eyes fairly twinkling with the flicker of a secret cached.

“Let me guess. Is it something astoundingly profound, dear brother?” Cassidy asked, turning from the glass to look at him.

“Oh, astoundingly,” he teased.

“Such as
…
you have found a more efficient way of combing your hair?” she mocked.

“No. Not quite so important as that,” he answered. “And anyway, my hair is in perfect order as always, dear one.”

Cassidy sighed. She loved Ellis, dearly loved him. But he sometimes seemed so incredibly shallow.
So…so lacking in brute masculinity. Not that he was feminine by any means, but he was too polished somehow.

“However,” he continued, “you will have to cut short your little tête-à-tête with Gavin Clark, for we are having the most important of visitors in to dine with us this evening.”

Cassidy’s eyes blazed with aggravation toward her brother. She absolutely despised the way he teased in such a condescending manner about Gavin.

“Gavin Clark is more of a man than you or your lavender-scented friends will ever be, Ellis!”

Immediately Ellis dropped his mocking expression, replacing it with that of apology for teasing his sister. “I am sorry to tease you, Cass. I know how well you think of him
,
and he is a fine young man. But…but, Cass…you know that Father would never approve of it. Gavin is common, after all. They will marry you to a titled man and no other. You know that.”

“I do not know it,” she argued. “
You
carry the weight of expectation, not I. I often pity you, Ellis, for I know what is expected of you. But surely Mother and Father would not present me to some elderly, bald, red-nosed old lord simply because of title
s
…which, by the way, are becoming more outdated and less important by the moment. They would not subject me to the same hopeless fate as Marietta Longswold’s parents did her.”

“Perhaps not. But they will not allow you to be given to a common fellow such as Gavin all the same.”

Cassidy knew that Ellis truly loved her and cared for her feelings. She appreciated his efforts to prepare her for life.
“I have not said that I wish to be given to Gavin Clark, now have I?” she reminded, smiling reassuringly as she took her brother’s offered arm. “Now, do tell me
—
as you escort me out to the east lawns to meet my common beau
—
who is this astounding visitor who will be joining us this eventide as we sup?”