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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Erotica, #Historical

Shackles of Honor (61 page)

BOOK: Shackles of Honor
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“No!” Gabrielle argued. “I am repentant…oh, so very repentant of the things I wished for you. I…I want only Mason’s happiness. And yours. For reasons that I myself did not fathom…I must see you confess your love to him and he to you. And I have seen it this night.” Cassidy looked to Gabrielle as the embers of believing began to glow within her bosom.

“For reasons that you cannot yet understand, for so many reasons, I had to know that my harsh words against you were lost in the wind. That you would not lead the torturous life I had once desired for you. It’s why, like a thief, I intruded on your privacy…on your intimate moments with him.” Squeezing Cassidy’s hand tightly, she leaned forward and spoke determinedly. “What I saw this past moment was proof that I am, thankfully, thwarted. It did not escape my knowledge that were this a room of more privacy instead of the study at my father’s home…Mason would have surely battled with his honor this night.” Cassidy looked away, blushing, for she too suspected that Mason’s self-control was in a weakened state for obvious reasons. “Well you know I speak the truth,” Gabrielle whispered.

“Mason would never falter,” Cassidy reminded her. She had slept in his chamber with him, she in his bed, he in a chair, and he had never moved to touch her inappropriately. His resolve was too strong. His duty to honor too firm.

“I have believed the same for all of my life. I still do. But my assurance was waning this night as I watched him with you.”

“Why do you try to comfort me?” Cassidy cried out suddenly. “I cannot but wonder if you have some further diabolical torture in mind for me.”

Gabrielle cast guilty eyes downward for a moment. When she looked to Cassidy once more, tears still flowed freely from her lovely eyes. “I…I want your forgiveness, Cassidy. Mason gave his to me long ago. But it is yours that I crave, for many, many reasons.”

“In my worst of nightmares…you are there. Always placed between Mason and me. I live in fear that after we are wed
,
he will quickly grow tired of me and turn to you,” Cassidy whispered.

“Then you do him profound injustice, for he would never turn the infidel, even if he w
ere
wed to Medusa herself,” Gabrielle stated rather angrily.

“I know. I know he is far too good a man.”

“It’s your forgiveness I ask now
—h
oping that your understanding of how a woman would love Mason Carlisle with her very soul will rain compassion onto your heart in regard to me. I have many
reasons for asking this of you, t
he first of which is that I am truly repentant of ever having such animosity toward you. I wish you to know that I’m happy for you…happy for Mason. Truly. I…I need to believe that you could one day accept me as…as a true friend. That you will be able to forgive me, to look upon me with no hatred or envy at the fact that I once loved your husband.”

Cassidy looked away from Gabrielle for a moment. “I understand your pain at having to give him up. No one would understand more than I. I could not love another after having lost him.”

“Then I now believe that you truly love him even more than did I.”

Cassidy looked quickly to Gabrielle in astonishment. “Do you mean to say that you have already lost your heart to another?”

Gabrielle smiled, yet the pain of loss was still evident in her countenance. “No. Mason still lingers in my soul. But…I have met a patient, compassionate man
—a man who knows my heart, w
ho says he is glad to have at least my attention. He is not powerfully overwhelming like Mason, and that is good. Still, he is very strong in body and mind, very handsome in feature
,
and very, very wise. He has become, if not my lover, my very dearest of friends. With him I can discuss anything, go to him for hope and wisdom and comfort.” She paused a moment and giggled softly. “He has the most marvelous sense of humor and makes me laugh often.” Cassidy felt a smile of gladness for the heartbroken girl that sat before her. There was a twinkle, a spark of life in Gabrielle’s eyes that Cassidy had never before perceived. Gabrielle continued, “He knows all of Mason…of my heartbreak, and yet…he is there. Always there whenever I need him.”

“He must be a man above men,” Cassidy commented honestly.

Smiling, Gabrielle whispered, “Yes. He is.” Then, pausing, she added quietly, “He begged one kiss of me the last time we met. I was more than hesitant, but the darling said he wanted to assure me that I could love him one day. That he could send a thrill through me to surpass any Mason had left within.”

“And did you consent?”

“I did.”

“And?” Cassidy asked, hopeful for her own reasons and for Gabrielle’s sake that the beauty’s head and heart could one day be turned from Mason.

“And…his understanding and care of me was profound. His kiss was the most tender and yet most demanding I had ever had. Mason never loved me to the depths that would allow him to pour out his passion upon me. This man’s kiss did indeed thrill me. And though I still struggle to give my heart to him, for I believe that fear of not being able to endure its breaking a second time gives me pause as well as lingering thoughts of Mason…I believe in my soul that he will be the love of my life. He will be the keeper of my heart forever one day. Though Mason will ever be there in treasured memory…this man will be my one love.”

Cassidy smiled. At last she could be glad for Gabrielle. At last she could inwardly admit she understood the woman’s harsh words born
e
of pain. There was no loathing left in her concerning Gabrielle. “You’ve no cause to ask my forgiveness, Miss Ashmore, for I would have wished no less to befall you had our roles been the reverse.”

Gabrielle smiled and, with tear-filled eyes, spoke softly, “Thank you. Thank you, my friend.” Cassidy nodded
,
and Gabrielle sighed. “Now, let me help you tidy yourself. The rake has made a mess of your hair.” They helped each other to stand, and Cassidy felt a great sort of relief wash over her as she gazed forgivingly at the young woman who now labored to fix her hair. “My goodness! He has nipped you here as well, the brute.” Gabrielle exclaimed, rubbing at a small red mark on Cassidy’s shoulder, the result of Mason’s attentions. “Let us give him some of our own consequence for mussing you so. Let us walk in together…arm in arm. Let his mind concoct what it may concerning what you and I may have discussed in his absence.” Cassidy nodded and smiled conspiratorially in response to Gabrielle’s smile of the same mind.


Late that night, as Cassidy sat in the carriage with Lady Carlisle and Mason, she could not but let her eyes wander to him again and again. His frown was deeply furrowed, his jaw tightly clenched
,
and he only glared out the window.

“You have stolen every heart in attendance, my dove,” Lady Carlisle commented, reaching over and patting Cassidy’s hand lovingly.

“I appreciate your encouragement, milady, but

” Cassidy began.

“Please, spare us the modest humility pretense, Miss Shea. It does not become you,” Mason grumbled unexpectedly.

“Mason!” Lady Carlisle scolded.

But he was undaunted
,
and his frustration exploded in Cassidy’s direction. “It is well you know, Miss Shea…that the attention of every man in that room tonight was arrested by you…you in that red frock! Do not pretend that you are not aware of it, for it serves only to infuriate me! Were I already this moment your husband, I would forbid you to wear that dress in public again! A gown such as that should be saved for the privacy of your husband’s bedchamber!”

“Mason Carlisle! Cease this behavior this instant!” Lady Carlisle nearly shouted. But Cassidy was far from angered or hurt, for there was nothing more evident in his manner than possessive jealousy.

Mason pounded fiercely on the inner wall of the carriage to signal the d
r
iver to stop. Suddenly he dropped to one knee before Cassidy, taking her chin firmly in one powerful hand
. H
e pulled her face to his, meeting her mouth with his own in a wonderfully thorough kiss that nearly suffocated her. As the carriage lurched to a halt, he opened the door and stepped out of the conveyance.

Pausing before closing the door, he ordered, “Wear that dress once more, Miss Shea…and I promise to rip it from your delicate little form with my bare hands and


“That is enough, Mason!” Lady Carlisle commanded. “You are wise, young man, to take to your legs to convey yourself back to the manor.”

Mason simply slammed the carriage door shut and shouted to Fieves to drive on. The carriage lurched forward. Lady Carlisle sighed heavily. Then, to Cassidy’s astonishment, a delighted smile spread across the great lady’s lovely face.

“What a deliciously narrow escape, my darling. Was it not?”

“Milady!” Cassidy exclaimed. Yet she too was far more than encouraged. The barricade Mason had built around himself since his father’s death was beginning to weaken. She’d captured his attention entirely once more.

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

The warm
,
rose-scented water felt soothing, healing, as Cassidy rested in its liquid embrace. How grateful she felt to Katie for sensing her discomfort, her nervousness
,
and how fatiguing the Ashmore affair would be and having the foresight to prepare a bath for her. Even for the lateness of the hour, Cassidy lay still in the bath basin for long minutes, near to half the hour, before the need for sleep and the cooling of the water gave cause that she should remove herself from it. Her arms and legs felt like they were made of marble or some other heavy substance, for she found it an effort even to step from the basin and wrap herself in the warmth of the heavy toweling drape Katie had so thoughtfully left hanging before the fire. As she wrapped the warm linen tightly beneath her arms and around her body, she smiled to herself, thinking on the expression of absolute horror that would don her mother’s face were she to find her daughter bathing without a bathing garment.

“Nude bathing is for heathens and the French
—w
hich are actually one and the same, my darling,” her mother once told her upon finding her thus. But Cassidy never understood the reason for a bathing garment. After all, one bathed in complete privacy
,
so what was the matter whether one bathed in a garment or not?

Tucking one corner of the linen into its own wrapping securely under one arm, Cassidy gently rubbed at her wet hair with the smaller linen, which was hung before the fire. Then, replacing it neatly on its hook once more, she left the small room used for bathing and entered her adjoining bedchamber.

“Something warmer tonight,” she mumbled to herself, feeling a bit chilled because of her wet hair as she opened the drawer of the bureau that housed her underthings. As she began rummaging through the chemise, pantaloons
,
and other intimate apparel, she felt something tickle the back of her hand. In the next instant, she cried out in ter
ror as a literal swarm of large
brown spiders began crawling up seemingly from the bottom of the drawer and over her lingerie, hand
,
and arm. Frantically she shrieked as she brushed them madly from her body. There seemed to be hundreds upon hundreds of them! Suddenly they were everywhere, blanketing her clothing inside the drawer and the handle and wood outside. They dropped at her feet as they scrambled madly every which way about the floor. Shrieking again, she ran to her bed, hearing the sound of crushing arachnid bodies beneath her feet as she fled and feeling their sticky innards on the bottoms of her feet.

“Help me! Help me!” she screamed, leaping to her bed and watching in horror as the spiders, hundreds and hundreds of them, began to stream from beneath the bureau. She looked to the other side of the room to find a route of escape and saw that they now ran from beneath her wardrobe in herds as well.

“Help! Mason! Katie! Someone help me!” she sobbed, and then she gasped as she felt movement at her feet. Looking down, she saw several spiders of different varieties near where she stood on the bed. Nearly her heart stopped its life-giving beat as she noticed an eerie movement beneath the blanket of her bed. It was barely discernable but existent.

BOOK: Shackles of Honor
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