Shackles of Honor (60 page)

Then, as if struggling with some inner conflict, he hung his head before her for a moment
,
and she begged, “Mason. One word, please. I beg you.”

“No!”

Cassidy could no longer restrain the moisture in her eyes that threatened to expose her anxiety. Closing her eyes tightly, she allowed several tears to trickle uninhibited down her cheeks. She opened her eyes quickly, however, when she felt Mason’s surprisingly gentle touch at her throat. He took her hand, which still clasped her throat protectively and placed it against the wall and at her side. Then his own hand covered the area where once hers had been. He caressed her throat tenderly, causing no discomfort in his manner of touching her. As his hand lingered there, he allowed his thumb to stroke the delicate curve of her jaw, finally pushing at it coaxingly so she followed his wordless direction and turned her head to one side.

She was beginning to understand that the intense emotion emanating from him was indeed anger
—b
ut anger bred from frustration born
e
within his own soul, not at something she had done. When she felt his breath on the bareness of her shoulder, moving slowly across to her neck and upward to her ear, she was further assured that she had misread his intention. His hand cupped her chin tightly
,
and he turned her face to his own once more.

At last he spoke, his voice deep and impassioned in its quiet booming. “You are real then?” he asked.

She knew not how to answer such a question. She was uncertain of his meaning.

Her silence urged him further. “Real? Not some imagined fairy that my tormented mind has concocted to ease the suffering at my loss? A mere vision that will vanish at my touch?”

“By no means,” she stammered in a whisper, suddenly delirious at the thought of his touch, his arms about her, his longed-for kiss. It seemed an eternity since he had spoken to her in such an intimate tone—since his hands had conveyed the promise of a passionate exchange.

His kiss was sudden, hard to nearly uncomfortable, and insistent. There were no soft kisses on her neck, no teasing, tender kisses at the corner of her mouth, no taunting breath on her cheek. Fully ripened passion exploded from him instantly. His hand released her chin at once upon his lips capturing hers, and she sensed his tightly clenched fists against the wall on either side of her again. His arms slackened for a moment, letting his body press firmly against her own. Breaking the kiss and closing his eyes to frown deeply, he shook his head, again battling with his own resolves. Pounding one fist on the wall at the side of her head and still shaking his head in resistance and desire, his arms worked to push his body away from her for a moment, going slack the next and allowing him to caress her cheek with his own over and over again.

Cassidy’s tears flowed with compassion for the man who fought such a battle of torment with his mind against his desire. What uniquely good man was this before her that battled so, mind and body? Her primping, her profound attention to her appearance
,
had done more than she had wished. It was obvious she had captured the attention of the great brooding man
—c
aptured his attention yet sent his mind into confusion. Guilt settled into the pit of her stomach as his cheek lingered against her own a moment longer than it had before. What cruelty had she inflicted upon him
,
causing him to find himself raging with desire for a woman he loved not? And still, the small grain of corruption within her delighted that she could capture his attention so.

Putting her hands at his shoulders, she endeavored to push him away, to release him from the spell she had managed to work about him. But her gesture only served to further agitate him
,
and at once, her face was held firmly between his two hands.

“You bewitch me!” he growled through clenched teeth.

“Forgive me,” Cassidy whispered.

“Never,” he grumbled a moment before his kiss was fierce and thorough on her mouth once more.

His hand was at the back of her neck, holding her head in position for his own reasons. His other slid around her waist, pulling her flush with his powerful body. Cassidy felt her own hands leave his broad shoulders and find their way to the back of his neck, her fingers unable to deny themselves the pleasure of being lost in the softness of his hair.

After long moments, his mouth broke from hers, finding the fragrant flesh of her neck upon which to rain softer, less driven kisses. Cassidy’s arms encircled his neck, pulling her body closer to his, allowing her own face to brush tenderly against his hair. She wanted to whisper her love for him, to confess her impious attentions to her own appearance so she might capture his notice, but she dared not. Then his kiss was hers once more, a less brutal passion emanating from it this time. His embrace of her slackened, his hands resting at her waist, yet still holding her possessively somehow.

Such kissing Cassidy had never fathomed before having been given to Mason Carlisle. How this man could own her so completely tortured her mind. How his smile, his very face, his delicious kiss could fill her every thought was evidence of her heart’s being slave to him. She thought, as she felt the cool of the gold bracelet brush her neck, that it should be she who wore it…for it was she who was enslaved to him. Again, his kiss traveled to her neck
,
and she thrilled as she felt him nip her playfully before he broke from her suddenly and completely.

“It must needs be that I take my leave now, lest I sacrifice all that you and I are in moral character,” he told her plainly. Cassidy’s knees weakened at the lingering sensations of his embrace and kiss
,
and she leaned back against the wall for support. “Remain here for a time. Were anyone to see you now, my true nature would be revealed to all, for you are yet flushed and ruffled.”

He strode from her toward the door leading to the veranda yet paused before unlatching it to take his leave. Turning to look at her once more, he said, “Two things.” His hesitation in saying anything further gave her cause to believe he had changed his mind about expressing what was in his mind, but then he continued, “First, I cannot endure seeing you in the arms of another man any longer this evening. You will please keep yourself to me alone for the rest of it.” He somewhat glared at her, obviously waiting for an argumentative response. She could only swallow hard and nod in agreement. “Second, I know what is in your mind…that little self-persecuting thinking of yours. Let me assure you, Miss Shea…’twould not have mattered were you just fished from a pond looking like a drowned kitten in place of wearing that accursed red gown and looking as you do. My reaction to you this night would have been no less explosive.” With that
,
he turned from her and exited through the veranda door.

Cassidy stumbled from the footstool, the pedestal on which Mason had placed her in order to make love to her. If only it could have been love and not just wanton frustration. She crumpled to the floor in a weakened heap of sobbing. The pain in her heart wracked her body, and she wondered how she would endure a lifetime of loving him so achingly.

She gasped when the door to the veranda unlatched. Someone was intent on entering the study where she now sat in a state of complete dishevel. Her heart and hope further sank when she saw that none other than Gabrielle Ashmore was entering the room. Gabrielle said nothing at first
—
simply latched the door behind her. Cassidy looked away, knowing there was no hope in pretending to be merely resting where she sat. But Gabrielle came and gracefully sat down on the carpet before Cassidy. Cassidy furiously brushed at the tears on her cheeks, but they continued to escape her eyes. Gabrielle reached out and placed a dainty hand on Cassidy’s knee.

“I…I cursed you to love him, Miss Shea,” Gabrielle spoke softly.

Cassidy looked to her at once. “What did you say?” she asked, unable to believe what she had heard pass from the beauty’s lips.

“I cursed you to love him,” Gabrielle repeated. “Shortly after you came to
Carlisle
…I openly cursed you to love Mason. I…I told him that I hoped you would fall desperately in love with him so your heart would break every time he…every time he took you in his arms. So you would live a life of misery being that you would love him so completely and know he did not reciprocate.” Instantly Gabrielle’s own tears escaped her lovely eyes.

Cassidy was fatigued and far past being angry
with
Gabrielle. Still, she muttered, “Then you, sorceress that you are, should revel in the knowledge of the certainty of your power. For I know that you recognize the complete success of your curse upon me.”

Gabrielle buried her face in her hands and sobbed bitterly for some time. Finally, she whispered, “Oh, to think that I should find such great joy mingled with sorrow still to know that my harsh wishes did indeed
fail
. For love him you do, as deeply if not more so than I. And yet, as I knew that day I cursed you, he loves you the same.”

The ever-present spark of hope Cassidy carried in her heart, the spark of almost knowledge that Mason did feel something akin to love for her, kindled momentarily. But she squelched it, trying to save herself further pain by saying, “Mason loves no one, save he loved his father, loved his sister, loves his mother and…and you.”

Gabrielle shook her head violently. “No. No. You are blinded to it by so many things—by his manner, by your perception of yourself, your perception of me.”

Gabrielle drew a deep breath and closed her eyes as she spoke. A painful frown puckered her brow
,
and Cassidy felt sympathy for the girl who had lost her heart so completely to Mason Carlisle. “I…I followed him here and watched you by way of the windows. There, where the drapes failed to
e
nsure your privacy,” she whispered. The words were painful for her to speak. “I…I had to see for myself what I knew to be true. The night of your engagement ball at
Carlisle
Manor…when…when I found him there with you in the g
ardens, you thought it was make-
believe…his intimate attentions to you there.” Her voice cracked with emotion
,
and she paused before continuing. “I tell you what you already know dee
p in your soul. It was not make-
believe to save your pride before everyone in attendance. Mason is chivalrous, yes. He felt your pain that night at wondering what everyone was assuming your relationship with him was. I know he did. But…but further, he wanted you. Wanted an excuse to taste the berry of your lips…to feel your gentle curves in his arms.”

“Why would you say such painful things to me? Your curse is complete! Just as you wanted! I love him with all that I am and beyond! And he cares not for me other than occasional desire to satisfy his needs of affections, small friendship perhaps
,
and compassion at my situation here,” Cassidy cried out.

“No! No. Mason is not so shallow
,
and you know it!” Gabrielle argued emotionally. “Never did he hold me as such. Not once did his eyes look on me the way they do on you! Never did his kiss hold such promise of love and passion for me.”

“I cannot bear that image in my mind,” Cassidy sobbed, putting her hands over her ears. The thought of Mason taking Gabrielle’s lips was unendurable.

“You must listen to me. For the sake of your soul’s survival!” Gabrielle pleaded through her tears, taking Cassidy’s hands in her own. “I have tasted of Mason’s kiss, Cassidy. Yes. Neither of us will lie about it, for it is true.” Cassidy winced at her words. “But never…never did he kiss me the like of what he did you that night in the garden.”

“He did not kiss me that night in the garden! He only toyed with me so that you
—
” Cassidy began.

“Then you were not paying heed to him,” Gabrielle whispered. “
’
Twas love he was making to you that night…the first time he dared to touch you. I know y
ou think on those moments daily,
for I would do no less. Think on it now. Let your heart believe…let it admit what it knows in its depths.”

Cassidy shook her head. “This is just your way of inflicting further torture upon me,” she cried.