Shackles of Honor (62 page)

“Oh, help me!” she cried out in a whisper, knowing full well that if she threw back her sheets at that moment, she would be met with the further terrifying knowledge that her bed was also alive with the creatures.

Suddenly, the door to her chamber flew open to reveal Mason, his deep voice booming, “What goes on?”

Katie appeared at his side, gasping as she looked to the floor and saw the armies of eight-legged creatures carpeting it.

“Mason!” Cassidy squeaked, afraid that consciousness would forsake her and leave her at the mercy of the attacking creatures. “Mason!” she cried again, louder this time, reaching out to him with one hand as panic began to cause her body to tremble uncontrollably. “Help me, Mason!”

“What devil’s work is this?” he shouted as he too saw the floor and bedding alive with horror. Then, giving not a moment’s pause, he stormed into the room, the sound of hundreds of spiders being crushed beneath his heavy boots all too audible. Cassidy reached out for him frantically as he neared, and within moments she was cradled warm and safe in his arms. “Havroneck!” he shouted as he carried her from the room. “Now, Havroneck!”

“Sir! What commotion is this?” Havroneck asked as he rushed up the stairs toward them.

“Get everyone up here at once! At once! Do you hear me?” Mason shouted, anger and something akin to panic evident in his voice.

Havroneck paused to look inquisitively at Cassidy
,
who wrapped her arms tightly about Mason’s neck, burying her face against it and sobbing bitterly. Then Havroneck, always in control and void of emotion, gasped as he looked to see the spiders now fleeing into the hallway toward escape. Katie began stomping madly and Cassidy could hear the heavy footsteps and questioning shouts of other servants as they climbed the stairs hurriedly.

“Rid the house of every last one of the pests
,
and send someone for Doctor Pratt! Now, Havroneck!” Mason shouted as he made his way with Cassidy to his own chamber and slammed the door quickly behind them.

By the time Mason made his way to his bed, Cassidy was slipping into a panicked shock. “Help me, help me, help me,” she whispered over and over again.

“I have you. I have you now,” Mason whispered in return, still cradling her in his arms, her arms remaining tightly bound about his neck. “You’re safe, Bliss. I have you. Let me lay you
—
”

“No! Please, no!” Cassidy cried out, looking down to his bed expecting to find the same terrors lurking between Mason’s sheets as there were in her own.

“Very well. Very well,” he mumbled, raising his foot awkwardly and kicking at the blankets. He shoved them back with the heel of his boot to reveal that the sheets were free of any invading creatures. “Look there. Bliss, look! There’s nothing here to harm you. Look there,” he whispered in a soothing voice.

Cassidy looked down once more at the bed to see that indeed all seemed safe. Her wits were momentarily about her enough to realize Mason could not simply stand there holding her forever. In a gesture of trust, she removed her arms from about his neck and let him set her gently on the bed. Immediately, she pushed the coverings to the floor and looked about quickly, ensuring that nothing harmful or frightening lurked in their concealing folds.

“Were you bitten?” Mason asked rather less than calmly.

Cassidy could only continue to cry and shake her head. She didn’t think she had been bitten.

“Are you certain?” he asked, bending toward her and running his hand the length of her exposed left calf as he looked carefully for any sign of harm.

Cassidy tried to control her sobbing
,
which threatened to break out of control as she saw the remains of spiders
’
legs and innards covering the bottoms of her feet. Instantly, Mason turned, retrieving a pitcher of water from the table nearby. Taking his cravat from where he had discarded it at the foot of his bed, he plunged it into the water. Wringing it haphazardly, he made a hurried effort to clean her feet.

At once, Cassidy snatched the cloth from him and shakily went about removing the mess herself. The expression of concern mingled with anger was blazoned in Mason’s eyes, but Cassidy was too undone to take note of it immediately. He let her finish cleansing her feet. Then he calmly took her hands, which now had remnants of the mess on them, gently pushing them into the pitcher of water. She still sobbed and shook with every essence of her body as Mason tugged at his shirt, pulled its corner from his trousers, and used it to dry her trembling, cold hands.
Grasping them tightly, he raised them to his mouth and blew warm air from within his body onto her fingers in an effort to warm them. He closed his eyes for a moment and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Cassidy was still in shock and sobbing, but she discerned on his face and from his voice that he was blaming himself for this horrible nightmare. Still, she could only cry. Her voice seemed to have been taken from her fully, and she had no words with which to reassure him. No words to let him know that she knew him to be her deliverer, not her tormentor
.

“You’re cold,” he mumbled, squeezing the bareness of her shoulders with his powerful hands. “Let me find something for you to wear.”

All Cassidy could convey to him was her fear of putting on anything
that
came from a drawer or a wardrobe by shaking her head fiercely and forcing a frightened whimper from her throat.

“But…but you’re so completely chilled.” As he turned from her, she reached out and took hold of his arm frantically. He looked at her with understanding but tried to convince her still. “One of my shirts will surely do.”

Cassidy released him and buried her face in her hands as she sobbed bitterly. She heard his heavy sigh of discouragement. She felt the weight of his body as he stepped up onto his bed and braced his back firmly against its large headboard. Sitting thus, he stretched out his legs, boots and all, on either side of her trembling body. She melted to him as she felt his hands on her arms, pulling her against him and into the warm safety of his embrace. Drawing his legs up so his knees were bent on either side of her, he firmly braced them against her body to help warm and comfort her. With her back resting against his chest, she watched as if in a dream as his arms folded around her own
,
which were clasped tightly at her bosom. His breath was warm in her wet hair
,
and with one final
,
muscle-wrenching shiver, she felt her trembling begin to lessen as Mason’s body began to warm hers. Slowly
,
her still
-
trembling hands slid down to rest atop his arms, which held her firmly at her waist. She would be safe now. She did not doubt it for an instant.

“Doctor Pratt will have something to calm you,” he whispered into her ear.

She wanted to whisper,
I have all that I need to calm me…here…in your arms
. But if she had found her voice, she could not have spoken the thought to him.

Cassidy felt the roughness of Mason’s whiskers brush the back of her neck as he endeavored to move her hair to one side. She felt the warmth of his breath on the flesh of her left shoulder and then the left side of her neck. A warmth began within her bosom and fanned out slowly, helping to further warm her body and nerves. Slowly he ran the breath of his mouth from her earlobe down her neck, over her shoulder and back again. Once or twice his lips brushed her skin
,
and she was able to put aside for long moments the horror she had just endured. Her body and mind were tired, sore from the experience of terror. Slowly Cassidy let her head tip to the right as Mason continued to caress her skin with his breath, placing a soft kiss here and there, now and again.

Cassidy was astounded when she realized his soothing manner was indeed calming her, calming her to the point that she felt blessed sleep only a breath away. Turning in his arms, she laid her face softly on his chest, one hand sliding around his waist to his back and the other resting gently near to her face. His arms bound her tightly to him at once
,
and though her eyes were heavy with the sleep of exhaustion, she looked up. He bent, kissing her tenderly on the forehead. Slowly her hand resting on his chest slid up over his shoulder, along his throat to his chin, her fingertips caressing lovingly his strong lips. She knew he read in her eyes the need for his kiss, for complete comfort, before she could let her consciousness rest. He did not hesitate. He slid his hand caressingly up her back, coming to rest at her neck as he held her. Thus he supported her head, his mouth descending upon hers like a warm and celestial drink of pure molten rapture.

Hot was his kiss, the blessedly familiar taste of his mouth intoxicating. Power radiated from him through it. His intense masculinity was perfectly apparen
t. His kiss gave her everything: s
afety and comfort. The soothing mingling of his kiss with her own him told of the unspoken passion between them. Yet he did not press her. He did not force the affection to continue, for he knew of her fatigue. Breaking from her slowly, he pressed her face to his chest and sighed heavily. No harm would come to her now, not here in his arms.

The deep sleep caused by complete emotional exhaustion enveloped her then. So deeply did she sleep that, although she sensed Mason’s body moving and felt him slip awkwardly from her, lying her gently on the bed, though she felt the moist, warm bliss of his kiss on her back just above the linen toweling, though she sensed this all, knew it to be real and not a dream, she did not stir. Sleep owned her
,
and she could not but let it.

Not until she felt cold hands on her ankle, calf, and the back of her knee, not until this unfamiliar and unnerving touch, did she wake. Yes, something was on her leg. She squealed as memories of the horrid creatures in her room flooded her consciousness. She turned over violently only to find Doctor Pratt, Devonna
,
and Mason standing at the foot of her bed. It was Doctor Pratt’s hand she felt on her leg.

“Only looking for bites, Miss Shea,” Doctor Pratt assured her, holding up both of his hands in a gesture of integrity. “Just ensuring that you were not bitten.”

Cassidy looked to Devonna
,
who nodded reassuringly, tears welling in her already red and swollen eyes. Then she looked to Mason. His angry eyes darted away from her as his jaw clenched tightly and his arms folded stiffly across his chest.

“Were you bitten to your knowledge, Miss Shea?” Doctor Pratt asked Cassidy. Cassidy shook her head and shrugged her shoulders simultaneously. “I…I would like to be sure, my dear,” the
d
octor said, lowering his voice rather guiltily. Cassidy looked to Mason once more. He seemed so different than he had been when she found safety in his arms only a short time ago. He looked at her, frowning—his eyes falling to the bareness of her leg, which had slipped through the opening of the linen.

“Mason,” Devonna muttered. It was an indication he should leave the room. Mason looked to his mother, scowling boldly. But his mother simply straightened her posture and repeated
,
“Mason.” Angrily he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Havroneck!” Cassidy heard him shout. “Everyone is to assemble in the main hall. At once! There is malevolent chicanery about in my house, and I will not rest until whoever is at the base of it has had his neck stretched!”

“That will, no doubt, ensure someone’s confession,” Doctor Pratt mumbled, shaking his head understandingly at Mason’s rage.

“He’ll beat the devil to death if he does find out who has done this to my dove,” Lady Carlisle said, smoothing Cassidy’s hair from her brow.

“If you’re certain you’ve not been bitten, Miss Shea,” Doctor Pratt proceeded, “would you then like a tonic to help your nerves?”

“No,” Cassidy said, shaking her head. “I…I will be fine. I would like to dress properly, however, and rest. If…if that is acceptable to you, milady.”

Lady Carlisle smiled as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Darling, anything you would ever do would be acceptable to me.”



Lady Carlisle insisted Cassidy wear some of her clothing so she would not have the fear of finding some horrid arachnid still infesting her own. And Cassidy did rest well, all through the following day, in fact. She knew Katie and Lady Carlisle and even Mason had come into his chambers several times to make certain she was not in need. She heard the door open each time someone entered the room, but it was from the foggy mists of deep sleep
,
and she did not stir
—
only felt safely protected where she lay.