Shackles of Honor (68 page)

At that moment, Cassidy felt the earth beneath her feet begin to give way. Screaming, she reached out, taking hold of Havroneck’s arm, her only means of escape from the fall.

“He’ll hate these cliffs all the more now, will he not?” Havroneck chuckled. Then he tore Cassidy’s hands from his body and held them away from him. As the ledge beneath her feet gave way, he released her. She slid down and away from him.

Cassidy screamed
, and
her arms flailed madly, reaching in vain for anything that might stop her fall. There was nothing but mud and rocks and rain. She was dying
—f
alling to her death as Jillian had. “Mason!” she cried out. And then nothing. But something! She stopped falling. She couldn’t possibly be to the beaches below, for she was still living and unharmed. Even in the darkness, she could see she had been saved. A small ledge further down from the one above still resisted the eroding rains. It was small, for she nearly rolled off trying to stand.

“Can you see her, Blythe?” Syndle’s voice echoed from above.

“No. No. She is gone. It is done, my darling,” Blythe laughed.

Cassidy resisted the urge to scream. They did not see her. In her dark clothing, combined with the evening dusk and the rain, they could not see her clinging to her saving ledge. She would wait, for there was naught else to do. Simply wait. She clung to the muddy wall of the cliff as the rain poured down upon her, nearly smothering h
er in its heavy intensity. Dare
she call out? What if Havroneck and Syndle were waiting
—s
till waiting to make certain of her demise? She had begun to tremble with cold and from being wet. How long she had been clinging to her lifesaving, yet slowly eroding, ledge she knew not. All she could think of was living—living for Mason. Living to complete her promise to him—her promise of confession. Her promise that she would tell him of her love for him when he returned.

“Mason,” she whispered. “Mason, Mason, Mason,” over and over and over until the
whisper turned into a cry. Then
she cared not whether Havroneck and his evil sister heard her, for no one would if she did not cry out. She began to scream, praying for her voice to be heard above the torrent of rain. “Mason!”

She paused, for she heard something
—s
omething wonderfully familiar
yet impossible!
She wondered if indeed her senses were quickly leaving to make way for madness to enter her mind. It was Mathias’
s
bark she fancied she heard. Over the torrential beating of the rain, she thought she heard the bark of her friend. But that could not be, for she knew he lay at home gravely injured. She surmised that it must be her imagination. But as she ceased in her own cry, she could hear the bark coming ever closer until it sounded as if it were just above her at the crest of the cliff.

“Mathias?” she screamed. “Mathias!”

The dog’s answering bark inspired hope within her. Merciful
h
eaven, Mathias had found her! A moment later, above the wind came another voice, more beloved than any other!

“Cassidy?” Mason shouted. Though she could not see him, she could hear his blessed voice. “Cassidy? Are you there?”

“Mason!” she cried, sobs wracking her body with anticipated rescue and relief.

“Cassidy!” he shouted
,
with relief heavy in his voice.

“Help me, Mason. The ledge is melting beneath my feet!” There came not another word from him. And she again called, “Mason?”

A few moments passed before she saw see a dark form coming toward her from above. And
,
oh, so quickly, Mason was at her side, a rope tied around his waist.

“Mason!” she cried. “Oh, Mason! They tried to kill me! It was Havroneck! All this time! And your father…”

“In good time,” he commanded. “Now put your arms about my neck,” he instructed as he awkwardly put an arm about her waist. His other hand held securely to the rope
;
his feet were planted solidly into the muddy side of the cliff.

But Cassidy’s body would not obey her mental commands. “I…I cannot let go. I…”

Mason did not argue or scold
.
H
e simply ordered, “Here then…turn and put your arms about my neck.” The authority in his voice
and
the power of his arm about her gave her unconscious courage. She did indeed turn, throwing her arms about his neck and clinging to him helplessly. “Don’t look down. Simply sit on my legs…astride as a man would sit his mount.” She obeyed, awkwardly, for her skirt and petticoats were cumbersome. Once she was somewhat secure against him, she startled as he whistled sharply and shouted, “Mathias!” The rope began to slowly pull them up the cliff, Mason walking its face by planting his feet solidly in the cliff’s wall as they moved upward. Again Mason shouted, “Mathias!” and whistled sharply. The thought floated swiftly through Cassidy’s mind that Mathias was not strong enough to pull them up. Who then was at the other end of the rope? In the next moment they reached the top. Mason stumbled onto solid ground, collapsing on top of Cassidy as they fell to the wet, grassy meadow floor.

Cassidy could not release him! Her arms continued to hold him tightly about the neck as they lay there in the grass. She cried fiercely, her fear, her relief, her fatigue, her love overtaking her in that moment. She would never let him go again. Never!

“Mason! Mason! I knew you would come for me. I knew you would,” she sobbed, pressing her cheek firmly against his.

“I’m sorry, Bliss. I cannot believe I nearly lost you. What a fool I was to make the pretense of having left. I thought it the only way to draw Havroneck out. I…I should not have
. F
orgive me. Can you forgive me?” he asked, his breathing still heavy from the exertion it took to scale the cliff wall.

“But you are in danger!” she gasped, releasing him from her embrace and taking his face in her hands. “Havroneck means to…”
H
er words were stopped
—
forgotten for a moment by the warmth in his eyes, the haggard expression of fear and self-blaming on his face.

“I love you,” he said simply, moisture apparent in his eyes, his voice deep and soothing. “I’ll be a fool no longer in restraining the admission. I love you, Cassidy.”

Cassidy was lost in the moment, wanting it to last eternally. She studied each line in his face, the way his wet, mud-splattered hair clung to his forehead, the raindrops that streamed down his face to his mouth, dripping finally from his lips onto her own face. She let the fingers of one hand trace his lips for a moment. Had he really spoken it to her? Now? When all was so life-threatening still?

“I love
you
,” she whispered.

She had barely finished her confession before the delicious heat of his mouth captured her own
—
the first kiss given her of him with all revealed. All
secrets were gone between them: t
he secret of why she had been given to him, the secret of why so many tragic deaths had haunted Carlisle Manor
,
and the secret of love. So many secrets had plagued them. Now they were free—free to love, to admit love, unbridled and confidently. Mason’s kiss was even further uninhibited. And Cassidy worried not about the smothering rain
that
poured down upon them, cared not that Havroneck still roamed the earth. She cared for nothing other than her lover in her arms.

But wise Mathias still had his wits about him. At the first feel of his cold, rough tongue against their cheeks, Mason broke their kiss and stood, pulling Cassidy to her feet. “We must return to the manor. Ellis should be there with Mother by now. I
—
” Mason began.

“Ellis?” Cassidy asked, still lost in the warmth of his eyes.

“It was why I left, though I did not go to Haggarty,” Mason said, stripping himself of the rope that had been tied about his waist.

Cassidy realized, as she looked to Mason’s mount standing nearby, that the horse had pulled them up. The whistle and call to Mathias must’ve been Mason’s signal to the animals to pull them up.

“I had to send word to Ellis,” he continued, “because
—
”

“I knew it. I told you. She is like a cat, that one! Nine miserable lives about her!” Cassidy gasped at the sound of Syndle’s voice.

“You’re a dead man, Havroneck,” Mason shouted, stepping in front of Cassidy as Havroneck and Syndle approached.

“Correction, sir,” Havroneck mocked. “
You
are a dead man! You miserable
Carlisle
! I killed your sister, your father, and now…I will kill you.”

“Have at me then,” Mason growled.

“No!” Cassidy gasped, distracted when she heard the same exclamation simultaneously escape Syndle’s lips.

“No, Blythe! You cannot!” Syndle cried unexpectedly.

“Don’t be a fool, Syndle. Do you think he would have you now?” Havroneck shouted at her. “The wench owns him completely! Heart and soul! Just as I told you she would. Do not be an imbecile! Accept what is and what must be. Do you not care for me? For what should be mine?”

Mathias began to growl ferociously as he crouched down and approached Havroneck. “Stay, Mathias,” Mason ordered, but the dog continued. “Mathias!” Mason shouted
,
and the dog stopped, looking with confusion to Mason.

“Come now, Mason. Let the beast at me. It will be my pleasure to finish what I failed to do last evening and slit his cursed throat!” Havroneck chuckled.

“Come at me, Havroneck,” Mason coaxed. “Come at me. Give me the chance to rid this earth of a devil such as you.” Havroneck only smiled sarcastically, and Mason continued, “Coward, to attack women because you’ve not the courage to face me. Had you rid the family of me to begin with…but no. Cowardice is your coat of arms!”

Mason reached behind him, taking Cassidy’s arm and throwing her to the ground an instant before Havroneck lunged at him, drawing a large knife from his waist. Mason skillfully caught Havroneck’s wrist, avoiding the knife’s blade. But as they struggled, Cassidy knew anger and hatred would make Havroneck strong, while the physical exertion of rescuing her added to Mason’s fatigue. Though Mason succeeded in causing Havroneck to drop his weapon, Havroneck dealt a seemingly lethal blow to Mason’s jaw. Cassidy screamed as he fell to the ground. He struggled to regain his balance. He did so only a moment before Havroneck’s hands were tight about his throat. Mason’s elbow delivered a breath-ending impact to Havroneck’s midsection. Havroneck doubled over, releasing his hold on Mason. Without pause, Mason grabbed Havroneck’s hair, bringing his knee up to solidly meet with the villain’s face, causing Havroneck’s face to turn red with the blood that flowed from his nose
,
mingling with the rain.

As they struggled, Cassidy was powerless to help. She knew that trying to assist Mason would only distract him and give Havroneck an upper hand. Looking to Syndle then, she could see the battle raging within her. Could it be that Syndle had fallen too deeply in love with Mason to see what her brother’s original plan had been? Syndle had never meant for Mason to die. She had meant to wed him
,
t
o be the bride of Carlisle
—w
hile Havroneck had planned to do away with the
Carlisle
line all along.

Havroneck and Mason were dangerously close to the cliff’s edge
,
and Cassidy could not help but shout, “Mason, the cliffs!”

Both men stood on the cliff’s ledge, the rain battering its edge just at their feet. Both men were physically spent. Havroneck lunged in an attempt to throw Mason over the edge, but Mason was faster and stronger and resisted Havroneck’s strength. The two men wrestled brutally for what seemed an eternity. Then, to Cassidy’s horror, as Mason struggled to pull the knife ever hidden in his boot, somehow Havroneck gained control of the weapon. Laughing maniacally, Havroneck stood. Mason, still lying on his back, exhausted, looked up at the villain.