Shackles of Honor (44 page)

“Did the fearsome brute frighten you, milady?” Gregory asked. His expression was terribly serious
,
and he stood so chivalrous as Cassidy looked down upon his youthful face that she could not suppress a delighted smile.

“Frighten me, yes, kind sir. But he had not the time to put me to harm…for you have championed me most expediently.” Cassidy smiled as the young boy rather blushed.

“
’
Twas merely my duty, milady,” Gregory mumbled.

“Oh, but, sir…so daring an act certainly must be rewarded! What? Oh, what reward would you ask, Captain, that I could grant this day…as thanks for my life and virtue being spared at your hand?” Cassidy glanced pointedly at the dead pirate, Rogue Blood, as she emphasized the word
virtue
and was gratified to see him glare at her somewhat perturbedly through narrowed eyes.

She was most astounded as the boy answered, “No greater reward could be bestowed, milady…than one kiss from your ruby lips!”

A delighted grin spread across Cassidy’s face as the eyes of the supposedly dead pirate widened and one of his eyebrows cocked curiously.

“You flatter me, Captain. Far more than I
deserve. But if it is your wish,
” she said as she bent down, placing a tender, perfumed kiss on the boy’s cheek.

“Blast,” Martin exclaimed. “To the victor the spoils.”

“
’
Twas a grand game we had today, was it not, my boys?” Mason asked, sitting up suddenly.

“Oh, yes! Very grand!” came the resounding general consensus.

“But…all good things must come to an end. Duty calls,” Mason grumbled as he uncuffed his trousers and went in search of his stockings and boots.

“Ah, but, sir…” Martin began.

Mason shrugged his shoulders defeatedly as he sat down in the grass and began to pull on his stockings. “I am sorry, Martin. But my mother will have my head if I do not get something productive done this afternoon. As will each of your own, I imagine. And besides that,” he continued, “the good ship Swash
’
n Blood is belly-up in the lake!”

With disappointed farewells, the youngsters, roughly carved wooden ships tucked safely under their arms, disappeared into the nearby woods. Cassidy watched them go, feeling rather melancholy and disappointed along with them. When at last she turned to see Mason standing behind her, watching their departure as well, she gasped so startled was she by his more familiar appearance. He had unrolled his sleeves, donned his vest
,
and efficiently retied his cravat and now stood looming up before her, ominous and somber.

He simply stood glaring down at her. It was such an awkward moment
,
and she wished
he would speak
—
say anything to break the odd silence. But he only continued to stare at her
,
and she suddenly stammered, “I…I was afraid I had spoiled your game at first.”

“So was I,” he mumbled.

Instantly Cassidy felt the all too familiar defensive emotion of indignation welling up within her bosom.
“I only happened upon you all on accident. I was simply out trying to find a peaceful moment and
—
” she began.

“I didn’t say that you did ruin our game, Miss Shea. Actually, the young lads seem quite smitten with you. They don’t go in for females as a rule.
Yet
.” She didn’t mind his interrupting her, for she suspected that this was as close as he would ever come to confessing some sort of approval. “Would you prefer that I escort you back to the house or not?”

“I…I…”
S
he again could not speak confidently. In reality, she realized that she would much prefer to be in his company. Simultaneously, however, she knew that he much preferred not to be in hers. “No. Thank you. I would like to walk awhile longer.”

“Very well.” He nodded, strode quickly to the lake
,
and retrieved his own wooden ship, dubbed
Swash
’
n Blood
with red paint at the tiny helm. He promptly went to a nearby tree where he placed the toy in a large
,
hollowed
-
out hole. “Good afternoon then, Miss Shea,” he bid his farewell. Moving past her, he walked away.

Cassidy’s mouth gaped open, her eyes widened
,
and then she instantly clamped her hand over her gaping mouth to suppress the waves of giggles that verged there. For, as Mason walked away, Cassidy’s attention was arrested by two severe grass stains squarely on the seat of his trousers. Taking mental note as to where her eyes were lingering, she turned around quickly, still suppressing the tickling giggles trapped in her throat. When he was safely out of range of hearing, she let one tiny snicker escape. But even it was abruptly stifled as her eyes fell to the indentation in the tall grasses near the lake. This had been the very spot where she had fallen backward, Mason falling with her, when the boys endeavored to beat the dreaded pirate Rogue Blood after he mishandled Captain Gregory’s fair maiden. It took no more than a second for the scene to change dramatically in her mind’s eye.

Suddenly, instead of her in the grass with Mason awkwardly lying the length of her while two small boys pelted his body with tiny fists, there were no small boys. Cassidy’s mind concocted an image of isolation. There in the grass she lay, Mason the length of her
,
and he did not hold her wrists to the ground. Rather, her own arms embraced him lovingly, as his hands caressed her hair, her forehead, her cheeks. Then he, Mason Carlisle, began placing lingering, impassioned kisses about her neck and face.

Cassidy audibly gasped at the vision and shook her head violently to dispel it. “Why?” she wondered irritatedly. Why did her mind persist in weaving romantic fancies about Mason? In an effort to divert her thoughts, she looked to the nearby woods. A walk there might be refreshing, “And with plenty of reality to view,” she whispered to herself.



The woods were distracting. They were beautiful, holding many wondrous varieties of flora and fauna. Enormous vine maples rose upward toward the sky. All manner of pines joined them
,
and plush, green ferns of several varieties covered the ground like thick green carpets. Nature mesmerized Cassidy, and in exploring it she had always demonstrated a weighty flaw in her character. When nature surrounded her, especially something new, she forgot that such a thing as time existed. It wasn’t until she noticed the sunlight streaming through the treetops was not as bright as it had been when she first set out that she realized how long she must have been about. She had neglected to bring her timepiece
,
and yet she knew the hour must be well past that when Lady Carlisle normally served dinner. Furthermore, if she did not hurry, the sun would surely set
,
and the woods would be as dark as moonless midnight. Dark and unfamiliar woods did not make the best company.

So with not just a bit of concern, Cassidy began making her way back along the path she had traveled. It was when she made to step onto and over an enormous, uprooted tree trunk
that
barred the path that her first inconvenience visited her. She felt her boot slip and lodge tightly in a deep furrow in the bark, and she heard an odd crackling noise of sorts accompany sharp pain in her ankle.

“Blast!” she exclaimed in a whisper as her hands struggled to free her foot. With a heavy sigh, she sat on the tree trunk and endeavored to remove her foot from the place in which it was wedged. But it was stuck tight
,
and she knew the only way to free herself was to unlace her boot and remove her foot from it first. As she began tugging on her lace, however, she again sighed with frustration when a terribly bothersome knot developed in it. Completely aggravated, she grumbled as her fingers fumbled unproductively with the knotted lace.

Suddenly something caught her attention. It wasn’t exactly a noise—but something caused an eerie fear to begin within her. She looked about. She had the oddest sensation that someone stood watching her—that she was some poor, defenseless animal that had happened upon a hunter’s trap. Surely, it was the lateness of the hour—the fact that the forest was darkening because of the arrival of dusk. Still, she felt panic begin to rise within her
,
and she struggled frantically to free her foot.

“For the love of Pete, girl! What are you about?”

A small shriek escaped her throat, so startled was she at the sound of Mason’s voice. She sighed and shook her head. Why, oh
,
why had she tarried so long? She looked up to where Mason approached her, a deep frown all too apparent on his brow. On his heels were two other men. Havroneck was one
,
and Cassidy recognized the other as one of the stablehands, Nobel. Immediately she felt her face turn crimson. How utterly humiliating that someone, Lady Carlisle doubtless, should feel the need to instigate a search for her in light of her obvious and quite rude absence.

“I’ve only just wedged my boot here. I’ll be out in a moment,” Cassidy assured Mason. But he reached her in the next moment and bent down to investigate the situation. Immediately, for propriety demanded it, Cassidy dropped the hem of her skirt, in an effort to hide her exposed ankle. She had pulled it up to nearly mid-calf in struggling herself with the criminal boot.

His frown deepening, Mason pushed the bothersome fabric back up her leg. She in turn dropped it again.

“How is it then that you expect me to assist you if you insist on obstructing my view of the problem?” he nearly shouted as he pushed the hem of her dress up again.

Once more Cassidy endeavored to return her skirt to its proper length. As Mason sighed heavily and looked up at her angrily, Cassidy glanced quickly at Havroneck and Nobel standing nearby.

Through gritted teeth
,
Mason growled, “Nobel…Havroneck, would you please avert your attention
?
The girl proves modest to a fault.”

Obediently the two men turned their backs to Cassidy and Mason. Then, rather too defiantly, Mason took hold of the hem of the skirt, pushing it up and up until it came to rest shockingly on her knee. His expression was that of daring
,
and Cassidy would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how fully astonished she was. There, for all the world to see, was Cassidy’s leg, bare to the knee save for the stocking.

“You have knotted the lace too tightly,” he mumbled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then,” he grunted as he placed his powerful hands into the wooden crevasse, “we will not bother with it.” The aged bark crackled as Mason broke it away from Cassidy’s foot.

Standing erect and dusting the bark off his hands, Mason concluded dominantly, “I believe you should be escorted at all times from now on.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cassidy argued. “It could’ve happened to anyone. I would’ve freed myself had you not been here.”

“Is it broken?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

“No. Just bruised a bit.”

“Can you walk then?”

“Yes, of course!” She was miffed that he assumed her to be so weak.

“Then make yourself modest once more
,
and let us be off.” His expression was angry, but Cassidy thought she caught a hint of amusement in his manner.

Dropping the hem of her skirts to cover her ankles once more, Cassidy stepped down from the tree stump. The pain was so intense upon putting her weight on the ankle that she crumpled to the ground. Instantly, Nobel and Havroneck turned around, each offering her a hand in assistance. But Mason’s hand was at her elbow at once
,
and he pulled her to her feet as she favored the injured ankle.