Shackles of Honor (10 page)

Within the hour
,
the coach stopped before a small, rather ominous
-
looking establishment. A man came out into the rain to greet them. Mason dismounted before him immediately, handing the reins of his own mount to a rough
-
looking man that appeared from around a nearby corner. Though Cassidy could not hear their words, she assumed the rather frightening man was a stablehand and the other man the innkeeper. Nodding and turning toward the coach, Mason opened the door, reaching inside and offering Cylia his hand.

A person could not lie to oneself forever about the fact that Mason Carlisle’s manners were impeccable. Cassidy watched as he politely and protectively escorted her mother to the inn, helping her remove her dampened coat as soon as they crossed the threshold. He was ever the perfect gentleman, bowing slightly as her mother obviously thanked him, though Cassidy could hear no words from them above the storm. His attention then turned back to her, for she remained seated in the coach, not out of expectation of his doing the same for her but rather because she had been so entranced in watching him assist her mother that all thought of her own comfort had been obliterated.

As he approached, walking tall and straightly erect even for the heavy downpour upon his head and mud beneath his feet, she felt herself shake her head quickly and put up a gloved palm toward him, indicating that she did not want his assistance.

“I am perfectly capable of…” she began. But no sooner had the words escaped her trembling lips, for it was ever so damp and cold, that she gasped as he rather roughly took hold of her arm, pulling her from the doorway of the coach, gathering her none too gently in his arms, one placed firmly around her back, the other beneath the bend of her knees. Never since she was a child had anyone carried her in such a manner. She was angry with him for his boldness, yet pleasantly disturbed by being so completely in his power.

“Come along, Fieves,” he shouted over his shoulder to the coachman. “Get within and warm yourself with something.”

Cassidy, trying to gracefully spit out the rainwater that had found itself into her astonished and gaping mouth, reached up, securing her hat to her head, and looked back to see Fieves climb down from the coach and begin to follow them. It was in looking back that she noticed her other arm lay firmly on Mason’s shoulder, her hand resting at the back of his neck. She thought of moving it, for it certainly gave the appearance that she was embracing him somehow, but there was nowhere whatsoever for her arm to go save across the broad expanse of shoulder. He stopped abruptly in the next instant and turned to look directly into Cassidy’s face.

At once Cassidy was mesmerized by him. Never had she been so close to him
;
never had her face been an expanse of mere inches from his handsome features. In that very brief yet somehow lingering moment, Cassidy studied his face, his very countenance, with more scrutiny and detail than ever before. His eyes were truly fascinating, for the dark of their brown was deep and rich
—
filled with secretiveness and something else hidden. Cassidy checked herself immediately when her eyes fell to his lips, moist with the rain.

She was startled when a grin spread across his face and he mumbled, “A poignant moment, perhaps.” The richness of his voice was soothing and yet unsettling at the same time.

“I beg your pardon?” she stammered. Realizing that she still struggled not to stare at his mouth, she tried to look indifferent and somewhat fierce.

“I suggest that this moment may in reality be of some significance,” he said in a lowered voice.

“How so?” She felt his hand tighten at her rib cage as he held her and scolded herself inwardly as her entire body tingled with some newish pleasure.

“Significant in that this very threshold will be the first over which I pass with you in such close proximity as this, Miss Shea.” His mocking grin broadened as Cassidy gasped with indignation.

“I should slap your face for such a remark,” she scolded him as he stepped over the threshold and into the inn.

“Why so?” he inquired, letting her feet drop to the floor and then releasing her.

“Because…because…”

“
’
Twas a true enough observation, was it not?”

She had no response to him. No quick wit would inspire her mind
,
and she simply stood glaring up at him.

Grinning once more, he removed his hat and coat, handing them to a rather largely curved woman who appeared.

“Come now,” he said to the woman, still looking at Cassidy triumphantly. “We need warming, and something for our…appetites.”

The woman giggled flirtatiously
,
and Cassidy, though knowing there was something of a riddle in his words, was lost to the meaning of it. Obviously, the serving woman was not.



“He’s a fine figure of a man, that one,” the serving girl who had previously taken Mason’s hat and coat whispered as she sat down in the chair across from Cassidy. Gesturing toward Mason, who sat in conversation with Cylia and Fieves at a table some ways across the room,
the serving girl asked,
“Is he yours then?”

Cassidy wished her mother had not chosen that moment to inquire about Fieves’
s
well-being. They had been sitting for some time, she and her mother
,
having enjoyed a warming broth and sweetly buttered bread. And now she found herself in unwelcome conversation with the repugnant female. She was completely shocked by the question and took several moments too long to answer. “I…I have no claim on him to speak of,” was all she could mutter. The girl smiled, obviously well
pleased with Cassidy’s answer. Cassidy was immediately angry with herself for some odd reason for not telling the girl that Mason Carlisle was bound to her by a promise.

“That news makes me gladder than I’ve been in a year,” the girl whispered. Cassidy watched as the young woman rose and walked, rather provocatively, toward the table where Mason, Fieves
,
and Cassidy’s mother sat.

“Anything I can get for you further, sir?” the girl asked Mason.

“No. Thank you,” he answered kindly, smiling pleasantly at the girl.

“Well, let me know if we can provide you with anything else refreshing.” With a smile that made Cassidy’s skin crawl, the girl let her hand rest for a moment on Mason’s shoulder before she walked even more suggestively into the kitchen and out of sight.

Cassidy angrily stripped off her shawl. She felt hot—fiery hot—as if she were indeed taking ill.

“Did you see that revolting display?” Cassidy’s mother inquired as she returned to the table. “That trollop fairly drooled over Mason just now! And whatever could she possibly be talking with you about, sweet?”

Cassidy fought to keep her expression to that of indifference as she answered. Still, her blood was virtually boiling with anger and jealousy. “She asked if he were mine.” Cassidy knew at once that, though her expression was steadfast, her voice had betrayed her.

“And you answered what?” Cylia’s tone was already reprimanding.

“I told her I had no claim on him to speak of.”

“Cassidy Shea! Did I raise you to be such an ignoramus as that?” Cylia sighed heavily and attempted to calm herself when several guests at a nearby table glanced at her curiously. “For pity’s sake, my girl! He is to be your husband!”

“Yes! How well I know it! And again I say that I do not know why!” Cassidy struggled to keep the tears from freeing themselves of her eyes as she whispered angrily, “Yet I have no claim on him, Mother! No claim to his family, home, heart, desire…none whatsoever! How can everyone possibly expect me to act as if he is my property somehow? For he is most obviously not mine.”

“In the very least you have claim over his name! Over his honor!” Cylia again calmed herself, straightened her posture
,
and smiled sweetly, nodding her head at the guests nearby that once again glanced her way. “I love you, Cassidy, more than my own life. And I know you as well as I know myself.” Her mother’s eyes captured Cassidy’s own with an intense understanding. “I’ve seen him piercing your heart already, darling. Already he’s there causing you discomfort and doubt as your growing attachment, your promise of love for him, increases.”

Cassidy’s eyes widened with indignation. “What utter rot are you going on about, Mother? I despise the beast,” she claimed, though she knew that she had only just spoken the most enormous lie of her lifetime.

“Do not make to deceive me, Cassidy, for you fail miserably at it. You always have.” Cylia reached for Cassidy’s hand that lay on the table and squeezed it reassuringly with her own.

“What shall I do then, Mother?” Cassidy asked. “Do you desire that I go to him now, my skirts swaying this way and that? Shall I plant myself promptly in his lap? Perhaps I should offer myself to him just now. Perhaps I should ask him to share my room and
—
”

“That is quite enough, Cassidy,” Cylia interrupted firmly. “I did not mean that at all
,
and I’m sorry to reveal to you my understanding of your feelings toward him. But
—
”

“I have no feelings toward him. He is a dragon demanding sacrificial appeasement
,
and I’m the virgin being offered to him.”

Cylia shook her head slightly. “There’s no reasoning with you when you’re in this present frame of mind. I will say this to you plainly then
.
I know you’re falling in love with him, Cass…if you’ve not fully fallen already. And you must champion yourself…for your own sake. Claim him as he has done you. You agreed to this arrangement
,
and I know with all my heart that never would you have done so had you not had your own motivations toward him. He is yours as fully as you are his, your very own dragon. But you’ll no doubt find…that he’s not a dragon but a knight. Honorable, worthy
,
and ever your protector from the true dragons of the world.” Cylia, being the grand lady that she was, regained her composure instantly. “Now…would you like to sit up by yourself awhile? I intend to retire immediately.”

Cassidy glanced to the table where Mason sat with several other men. She was completely unnerved when she found that his attention was entirely upon her and not the conversation at hand. His eyes were narrowed with a taunting look of triumph somehow
,
and she looked away quickly and back to her mother. His manner was indeed changing as they neared his home. He had been unwelcome and uncomfortable at Terrill. But now, now that he neared his own property, his own family, his confidence was rising as his temper seemed to calm itself.

“No. I will go up as well.”



Hours passed, hours in which Cassidy struggled to find the venue to sleep. But as her body tossed and turned in the bed next to her mother, her mind was in a state of far more turmoil. She could not get the vision of Mason Carlisle out of her mind. His astounding face and form kept appearing before her tightly closed eyes no matter what her brain endeavored to think on.

At long last she crept quietly from the bed, shivering as her feet touched the cold slate floor as they searched for her slippers. Rising and going to stand before the fire, she added another enormous log to it, jabbing at the glowing embers with the poker. It was an oddly cold night
,
and she longed for sleep.

In that moment, she heard the scuffling of feet just beyond the chamber door in the corridor and, she thought, a quiet
,
feminine giggle. Mason’s chamber was just across the corridor from hers
,
and immediately she thought of the tart serving maid that had made such vulgar insinuations to her concerning Mason earlier that evening. Quietly, she went to the door of her chamber and rested her ear to it for a moment. She could hear voices, hushed in secretive tones just beyond—a man
’s
and a woman’s. Immediately her heart began to pound angrily. Yet everyone had assured her that Mason Carlisle was a man above others in moral character.