Shackles of Honor (46 page)

The doctor confirmed Cassidy’s ankle was not broken. Yet it was badly sprained and caused her some discomfort for near to a week. There was nothing to do to keep busy except read and talk with Devonna and Lord Carlisle. Mason was gone most of each day on business. So Cassidy busied herself with needlework and books and conversation with his mother. She received letters from her father, mother
,
and Ellis, feeling warmed by their concern and diligence in writing.

She tried to ignore the hand mirror that had been broken somehow as it lay on her vanity. She ignored the sound of breathing in a corner of her room one dark night and the ever-increasing feeling she was being watched. She brushed the worries from her mind or, at least, tried to.

One day, Cassidy sat in the library looking out through the open doors that led to the veranda. She so relished the warmth of the sun and blue of the sky. Suddenly Havroneck appeared, startling her. He
was
rather ominous
-
looking at times
;
his eyes seemed to see into the very depths of her private thoughts.

“Mr. Havroneck!” Cassidy exclaimed. “You startled me!”

“A letter arrived for you, Miss Shea,” he explained, handing her the letter.

“Oh, thank you for bringing it so promptly, sir,” she said, smiling. She at once recognized the seal as Ellis’
s
.

“Ever at your service, miss,” he said, bowing and striding away.

Frantically Cassidy opened the letter. She could always depend on a letter from Ellis to entertain and lift her spirits.

Darling Sister,

What are you about this fine day there at
Carlisle
Manor? You must know, though it pains me terribly to admit it…that I do miss you, Cass. I think on you always, wondering if you are well…knowing that you are safe, for you have one such as Mason as your protector. Still, I am your brother and do wear my shirt more formally than he…if not less broad-shouldered.

I have reacquainted myself with your old friend Gabrielle Ashmore on my recent trip to Haggarty. She is quite the beauty, if I do make so bold as to vex you. I think her heartbreak at losing Mason Carlisle to one so beautiful and dark-haired as you does indeed show in her countenance. I have heard it said that she is not the bright, confident, full-of-life young woman she was some months ago, and I think you can take this to mean that there is truly, truly no reason for you to further concern yourself over whether Mason has indisputably given her up.

You should hear the buzzing that goes about here on that subject! The very subject of Mason Carlisle and his bride-to-be is all the rage
.
People speculate endlessly on your beauty, which I affirm as being unsurpassed, of course! In fact, I am led to believe that
,
other than myself, of course, Mason Carlisle was the most sought
-
after bachelor ever born in our great land.

Father and Mother are faring well. Upon my last visit, Father was fairly leaping about, giving Mother fits of worry over his well-being! They miss you, dear Cass. It is more difficult than you perceive, darling, for them to give you over to Mason.

Which reminds me…is he quite the attentive lover yet? I am certain you know more of his skills in this area than you are willing to disclose to me! Still, I want to see my brat of a sister happy in the arms of the man she loves…even if he cannot ever measure up to her brother’s handsome countenance.

You must tell all, darling…when I arrive a week hence for a short visit. I must behold your well-being with my own eyes. Mason must understand.

All my love,

Ellis

“Tomorrow,” she spoke out loud. The letter was dated a week before. Ellis would arrive on the morrow! Smiling, she refolded the letter and was delighted, if not sent into a fit of nerves, as Mason entered the room very unexpectedly. She rose and made ready to leave the room, but even further surprising were the first words he uttered to her.

“Will you read to me then?” Mason asked unexpectedly.

“The letter from Ellis?” Cassidy exclaimed in a voice of panic. She could not in any instance read him the true contents of Ellis’
s
letter.

“If you wish. Though I was hoping you would choose something less personal, such as Whiting or Collins. I’ve such a pounding in my head as to shatter the pillars of
Greece
.” He placed a hand across his eyes and seemed to squeeze his temples tightly. “My eyes hurt
,
and it must be that I finish the Whiting
.
”
H
e pointed to a small book lying on the table near the sofa. “It’s on loan to me
,
and I’ve promised to read it cover to cover and return it within the week.”

Cassidy took a deep breath, greatly relieved that he did not wish to hear her letter, and picking up the book, she looked about for a suitable place to seat herself. “Sit just here,” Mason said, motioning to the footstool just before him. Cassidy sat herself properly on the footstool and looked up at him for a moment. His eyes were closed now, and he sat forward, elbows on knees, head hung as if a great fatigue had only just overtaken him.

“I am sorry for your discomfort. May I fetch anything for you?” Cassidy asked. She was concerned at his lethargy. It was quite unlike him.

“No. Just begin. I’ve marked the page. I don’t go in for certain authors. But this is not too torturous,” he mumbled, still not looking at her, still with eyes closed.

Cassidy sighed and opened the book. Immediately the small nameplate within caught her eye.
Miss Gabrielle Ashmore
was written elegantly there. Now Cassidy knew whose book this was—who had lent it to Mason and to whom he planned to return it. She chose to say nothing and simply let her anger burn within her for the time being. A small blue ribbon marked a particular page. She opened the book and began reading. Immediately her anger increased
,
for the verse was nothing more than a vow for lovers. She wanted to throw the book at the man before her, screaming hateful things about Gabrielle, and run from the room. Instead, she struggled to keep her composure and began to read aloud.

It was truly a beautiful collection of verse, however simple. She read on, not lifting her eyes to look at Mason, for the poem engrossed her attentions, if somewhat against her will. Then, as she read, one particular verse struck something within her
,
and she took its meaning, its description,
and
its vision fully to her own heart—not noticing that her voice had dropped, her words soft and quiet as the poem’s heart.

Then breathe of me…my charming one
.

Breathe not of any other.

Breathe not her words amid the air,

Nor perfumes on her skin so fair,

Nor redolences of her hair
,

Or of her sigh, the fragrance there
…

For false are they…

False means to smother.

Breathe thus of me…my cherished one.

Breathe thus of me forever.

Breathe words of love…love spoken true.

Breathe of my eyes, my spirit’s view,

Breathe of my kiss as moist as dew.

Breathe of my soul’s delight in you.

For truth am I.

I am your lover.

Cassidy paused, strangely disturbed by the irony of the poem when compared with her own feelings. Glancing up, she was startled to see Mason’s eyes were narrowed and studying her intently. He still leaned toward her, elbows resting on his knees, but now his head was raised and his focus fully on her.

“Read on. Is that the end of it then?” he asked
,
and the low, provocative intonation of his voice gave rise to goose bumps on Cassidy’s flesh.

Swallowing hard, she returned her gaze to the book and read on.

And breathe of me…my secret told.

Breathe breath of me, my lover.

Breathe soft
,
caressing fingertips

That brush your face and trace your lips.

Breathe deeply of my lover’s kiss
…

The sweet, the spice of ardor sip.

Breathe of me breath…

Breathe me…forever.

It took great courage for Cassidy to raise her eyes to Mason. “It’s done,” was all she managed as she looked up to find him still leaning forward, still staring directly at her.

He was motionless for a moment
,
and she shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. Then, somewhat insinuatingly
,
he inhaled a long, deep breath before finally leaning back to rest his massive body and arms on the sofa. “And what do you think of it?” he asked unexpectedly.

“It’s…it’s quite…intimate,” she managed to sputter.

“Do you deem it inappropriate?” he inquired, and she caught a look of amusement forming in his dazzling eyes.

“I…I suppose that would depend on the company. On the situation.” Cassidy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

“Elaborate,” he demanded simply.

“I mean to say…it’s not the sort of verse someone would feel comfortable reciting at the dinner table or in a gathering of light acquaintance. But…to one’s self or with a friend or intimate companion of sorts. It’s obvious that it’s meant to be read to one’s…to one’s…”

“To one’s lover,” he finished for her. “And this is why you have done such a splendid job of reading it to me then?”

“What do you imply?” Cassidy exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

“I imply nothing. What did you suppose I implied, Miss Shea?” His eyes danced with merriment at her discomfort
,
and though she knew he meant to imply she read it with him in her own mind as subject, she turned his amusement at her expense to something else.

“I am not as naive as you like to think, Mr. Carlisle. I know very well from whose book you have had me reading and why it is in your possession. I know why she wanted you to peruse it. Thoughts of what—rather thoughts of whom—she intended to evoke!” She slammed the book down on the table. He rose to his full height to stand before her questioningly. “I’m not in ignorance as to what your alternative relationship with her may be, considering that I’ve spoiled your honorable plans toward her. But she is wrong in her assumptions that I will be so sorely smitten by your charms that I…” Instantly Cassidy gasped, drawing herself up too late. Mason glared down at her, fury evident in his eyes. She had said too much. Her anger and growing frustration had gotten the better of her
,
and now she had said far too much.

“You speak of matters that were discussed in, at the very least, privacy and seclusion. Are you so lacking in manners as to belittle yourself enough to be found eavesdropping at every turn? If I’m not mistaken…you reference a conversation that existed long before the one you so rudely eavesdropped upon the night of our engagement!” he growled.