Shackles of Honor (15 page)

“Now you must reward him for obeying you,” Mason told her.

“With what?” Cassidy asked, for she obviously had no morsel of food or anything else to offer him.

“With your touch, girl,” Mason answered rather impatiently. “And remove your gloves, for he will otherwise take it as a sign of rejection.” Dutifully Cassidy removed both of her gloves, laying them on the floor as she reached down to pat the dog gently on the head. “He’s a man, Miss Shea! Please treat him as such. Don’t coddle him as if he were an infant.”

Cassidy startled at the sound of Mason’s voice but did as he instructed—for she had some great inner desire to win the dog’s affections for her own. Boldly she took the dog’s face in her hands, scratching roughly beneath his jowls. Then she moved her fingers nimbly to repeat the motion at the back of his ears. Almost instantly the dog’s left foot began to pound the floor delightedly, his tail beating the floor mercilessly.

Cassidy could not withhold her enraptured smile at pleasing the dog. “He has a friendly and happy demeanor,” she thought to herself out loud.

“They say a dog will closely resemble his master, do they not?” At Mason’s words, Cassidy stood and looked at him disbelieving. “Do you mean to convey that my own demeanor does not parallel that of Mathias?” His expression was that of entire severity, but his words and tone sounded almost playful. She wasn’t certain of his intent.

“I meant only to say that, upon first appearance, he seems so…almost dangerous,” she explained, “but his demeanor is that of a loving puppy.”

“Yes,” Mason said, again extending his arm to her. “So I resemble him,” he continued as she retrieved her gloves from the floor and took his arm. “At least in the first condition. Is that so?”

“In the first condition, yes,” Cassidy told him.

They spoke no more as they walked to the dining hall, Mathias at their heels. “Mathias, stay,” Mason commanded as he led Cassidy inward to their meal.

Upon entering the splendorous hall, it was apparent to Cassidy that she and Mason were the last to arrive to dinner. In fact, there were others present besides her mother and Mason’s
,
whom she had expected. There was an older man perhaps her father’s age, a woman perhaps her mother’s age, a young man apparently of an age not far older than Ellis or Mason, an astoundingly beautiful young woman who appeared to be somewhat older than Cassidy, a younger girl that Cassidy judged to be in early adolescence
,
and a boy of perhaps age eight or nine. The strangers resembled each other in some manner, the younger girl in attendance looking much like the older woman and the young man not unlike the more matured man. It was apparent that this was a family seated at the table with Cassidy’s and Mason’s mothers.

“You look radiant, darling!” Devonna exclaimed, rushing to Cassidy and pressing one lovely cheek against hers.

“Thank you,” Cassidy managed to sputter a moment before Mason spoke.

“Lady Ashmore. Lord Ashmore. It was good of you to come.” The elder man and woman nodded toward him in response and spoke their greetings. “Corbel, Denay,” Mason nodded at the young man and youngest girl. Cassidy was then astounded as Mason reached out and tousled the young boy’s hair saying, “Martin, my good man.”
Then crouching to meet the boy face
-
to
-
face and lowering his languid voice, he added, “How fares the good ship Intrepid?”

“Well, sir,” Martin answered, a smile of delighted pride capturing his expression.

“Excellent,” Mason chuckled as he rose to his full height once again and turned his attention to the remaining member of the Ashmore family. Cassidy was captivated by the dazzling sparkle that leapt to the beautiful young woman’s eyes as she approached Mason, who, taking her hand and kissing the back of it formally, said, “Gabrielle.”

A large knotted feeling began to contort the inward parts of Cassidy’s stomach as Mason uttered the name. This then was Gabrielle. Mason’s lover! The woman of whom he had spoken to his horse the day she overheard him, the day he drove Gavin from her life.

In fact, a somehow pain-stricken “Oh!” squeaked from Cassidy’s throat, causing every eye in the room to turn on her. Placing a hand at her throat momentarily, she said, “I…forgive me. I’m just overwhelmed. So many new faces all in one day.” Mason’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked to her. The eyes of the beauty before him cut sharply into Cassidy’s soul, though it was a perfect smile that she wore on her face.

“Of course you would be overwhelmed, such a long journey and dinner guests all in one day.” Cassidy did not miss the sarcasm in the young woman’s voice as she addressed her. It was as thick as syrup. “I am Gabrielle Ashmore,” she said, offering her hand.

“Cassidy Shea,” Cassidy forced out, placing her own hand in the woman’s for a moment.

Gabrielle was a unique beauty. Her eyes were the brightest blue Cassidy had ever seen, her hair perfectly fair and golden in its tints. She was taller than Cassidy, slender, and her carriage was that of great confidence and grace. Her gown was the softest of pinks with white laces
,
and Cassidy at once felt dry and dim in her copper. Quickly Cassidy glanced to Mason
,
who tipped his head and frowned at her slightly as if trying to discern the reason that she appeared so unsettled.

“Daniel Ashmore, my dear,” Gabrielle’s father offered, taking Cassidy’s hand and raising it to his lips. “This is my wife, Vesta.” The pure resentment in Vesta Ashmore’s eyes was all too apparent and sent a sinking feeling through Cassidy’s body, giving her cause to have to concentrate fully for a moment on merely maintaining her posture.

Cassidy worked silently to prevent her body from trembling as the obviously vexed woman approached her slowly. Standing just before her, the woman studied her from head to toe with long, calculating looks. “She…she’s…lovely, Mason.” The woman stumbled over the words as if they left a foul flavor in her mouth.

“Thank you, milady,” Mason responded. He took Cassidy’s left hand in his own left and placed his right at her waist in directing her toward the table. It was as if he knew she would be unable to take the steps to do so on her own and needed extra strength. “I am sorry to make you wait for your dinner, only Mathias delayed us just now in the hallway.”

“That infernal hound of yours again,
Carlisle
,” Daniel Ashmore chuckled. “Does he never leave your side?”

“Mathias will have to reconcile himself to Mason’s heel now that Cassidy has arrived at last,” Devonna offered teasingly. Cassidy stumbled slightly as she reached the table. Mason withdrew a chair for her
,
and she allowed him to seat her.

“Whatever is the matter with you?” he whispered quietly in her ear as he slid in her chair. The sudden warmth of his breath on her neck gave rise to hundreds of goose pimples over her neck, shoulders
,
and arms. Thankfully they vanquished quickly w
ithout notice from anyone else.

Cassidy heard nothing of the dinner conversation. Rather, she registered nothing, although her ears certainly must have heard it. The only thing occupying her mind was Gabrielle’s apparent effort to dominate Mason’s attention. She laughed beautifully, throwing back her head now and again
,
sending her lovely flaxen ringlets dancing at her shoulders and flaunting her slender neck and satiny shoulders. And after dinner, as they all sat in the drawing room talking of this and that, Gabrielle’s hands often found reason to rest on Mason’s shoulder or brush a breath of lint from his cheek.

To credit his character, Mason did not give Gabrielle any more encouragement than he did her younger sister, or her mother for that matter. For all outward appearances, he seemed indifferently friendly to them all.

Then the horrifying situation grew worse when Devonna commented, “I hear that you’ve quite the voice of a lark, Cassidy, darling. Would you bless us with the melody of it?”

“Oh, yes, darling!” Cylia exclaimed. Cassidy knew she was anxious that her daughter display her talent, but Cassidy herself was sickened at the thought. Not once in her entire life had she felt less like singing before people. How could she possibly sing in listening distance of Mason? In listening distance of his lover
, who sat not two feet from her?

“Oh, coax her, Mason! Please do,” Devonna begged of her son, putting an anxious hand on his knee as he sat in a large chair to Cassidy’s left.

“Mother, if she doesn’t wish to sing…I see no reason to force her to do so,” Mason mumbled.

“You’ll do it for me, won’t you, my dove?”

“LaMont!” Devonna exclaimed as all in the room turned to see Lord Carlisle, though underdressed for the occasion in a heavy robe and slippers, standing, apparently strong, in the doorway.

“Father!” Mason too exclaimed, fairly leaping to his feet and going to assist his father to a chair. “You shouldn’t be about this late.”

“Nonsense. I cannot be without these loveliest of ladies for long periods of dreary, dreary time. Come now,
d
ove,” Mason’s father spoke to Cassidy as he seated himself with difficulty near her. “A song for me. Your newest friend, eh?”

How could she refuse him?
H
ow could she refuse this handsome older version of Mason
,
a
iling and capturing her heart
,
his request? It was obvious that Mason held no interest in hearing her sing for them, but she was assured within her bosom that his father did.

“Of course, for you, sir,” she relented. “Mother, will you play?” she inquired of her mother, knowing full well that she herself had not the emotional strength to carry both playing and singing.

“Instantly!” her mother chirped, nearly dashing to the piano in one corner. As if walking through the most terrible of nightmares, Cassidy followed her, though more slowly, finally standing near to the piano as her mother played several scales in limbering her fingers, and all others in the room gathered nearer to her.

“But
,
no, Mother!” Cassidy then begged as she recognized the tune that her mother had begun to play.

“Please, darling! It is your best,” Cylia prodded, beginning again as Cassidy’s mind whirled. Closing her eyes for a moment and praying inwardly for strength to endure this nightmare that was upon her, Cassidy began her song.

As the wind is thy breath
,
so live I by thee.

As the sun, thy embrace, gives sight and doth warm me
,

As the waters refresh, quench my thirst, and revive me
,

As the meadow with color and fragrance delight me,

So live I…by thee.

For without thee is breathing and warmth thus denied me.

Without thee is beauty, refreshment refused me.

Without thee my heart may beat not within me.

So live I…by thee.

Touch not my heart falsely, for live I for thee.

Give not careless your kiss, taste not mine own simply.

Embrace me with purpose
,
hold me not vaguely.

Gift me love of your spirit that I may love safely.

For live I for thee.

For without thee is tasting of rapture denied me.

Without thee is feeling of strength thus refused me.

Without thee my heart may beat not within me.

So live I…for thee.

Live thou as such…for me?