Shackles of Honor (34 page)

She began preparing herself far in advance, for it was important to her that she appear at her very best. She knew there would be gossip of the same cruel caliber that her mother had endured at her very age. She would not have them saying that not only did Mason find himself shackled to this strange, unknown, childish girl but that she was plain and homely to boot. Katie helped Cassidy into the beautiful brown gown, arranging the folds of the skirt and laces meticulously. Then her dear, blissful-in-heart friend did indeed dress her hair perfectly, curling it c
arefully with the hot curl iron and
then pulling it back and pinning the mass of gathered curls to the crown of her head. Her hair hung in brilliant cascading curls down her back. Several softer curls adorned her forehead and temples, causing that she should look just the least little bit imperfect and adding a “desirable subdued appearance,” as Katie explained.

Cassidy heard the carriages arriving all afternoon and the joyous voices of congratulations and inquiry raised jubilantly. And now, as Katie helped her pull on her gloves, ensuring the seams were straight, a knock came at the door
,
and Cassidy startled violently.

“He’s come for you,” Katie said, smiling.

“He has come to escort me to the guillotine,” Cassidy stammered nervously. Then, glancing at herself one last time in the looking glass, she said, “I cannot, Katie. I cannot face these strangers
,
all of them knowing…where is Mother? She didn’t even come to
—
”

“No doubt your parents and Mr. Mason’s are already seated for dinner, Cassidy. Remember, you are on display. Your entrance must be magnificent.”

“Thank you for your encouragement,” Cassidy said sarcastically as there was another knock on her door. “Don’t let him in yet, Katie. I’m not ready.”

“Nonsense,” Katie scolded, going to the door and opening it wide to reveal a dashing, immaculately groomed, magnificently handsome Mason Carlisle.

Instantly Cassidy’s stomach began to tumble
,
and her legs felt weak. He stood before her dressed in the blackest of trousers, tight-fitting so that every line of each fabulously developed muscle in his legs was strikingly defined. His boots were polished to a perfect sheen, his coat
was
magnificently cut to boast his broad shoulders
,
and his collar stood stiffly beneath a perfectly arranged white cravat.

“Come along then, Miss Shea,” he muttered. “Are you ready for the gawking frenzy?”

His words of encouragement, rather discouragement, nearly undid her
,
and she felt like shouting,
No!
But she did not and merely nodded.

“Stay with Katie, Mathias. Stay,” Mason commanded as the dog began to follow them toward the stairs. “Take my arm then,” he instructed Cassidy, offering his arm. Reflexively Cassidy linked her arm with his, noticing at that moment that he wore no gloves himself.

“No gloves,” she mumbled as her mind began to drop into some sort of astonished, frightened panic. “And I cannot believe that neither Mother nor Father nor even Ellis came to accompany me. I
—
”

“I detest gloves. My palms are perspiring enough as it is. Stuffing them into hot, ridiculous gloves would not serve,” he grumbled.

“You’re…you’re nervous at this?” she asked. She could not believe it! Was it possible?

“What mortal man would not be nervous, Miss Shea? I’m to walk into a room of friends, business associates, strangers,
and
noblemen and present my troth to a girl who would rather have my dog than me! All the while creating an appearance of serenity, friendship
,
and attraction between us. By all that is, girl, yes, I am nervous.”

She was more startled by his revelation of making to pretend that they were amiable than his confession of nerves suddenly. He wouldn’t forsake her then? Wouldn’t subject her pride to being trampled upon? Just as he had taken care of Thomas and dear Katie, he would not fail her. She had to believe in him, then, or else simply perish.

“I’m certain to be as pale as death,” Cassidy mumbled, feeling no color remained in her face, for it had certainly sunken to the depths of her sickened stomach with the rest of her feelings.

“The color is little in your face,” he agreed. “Of course, I could redden your lips for you…in my own manner. And I’m nearly certain that the result would then be the addition of color to your face as well.”

But it wasn’t necessary that he kiss her as he obviously intimated, for the implication itself coupled with the pure delight she felt at the rather flirtatious remark caused the heat to rise to her cheeks immediately.

“There now. I’ve caused you a blush…and with less effort than I expected.” She could not believe his teasing. Yet it was so very encouraging! He would not abandon her. She was certain of it. Somehow, due to his championing her, she would be able to endure the prying eyes, the gossiping whispers
,
and the disapproving stares.

As Mason led her to the door of his father’s chamber
,
she felt the warmth of comfort that always pervaded the air in
Lord Carlisle’s
presence even before she had entered the room.

“What vision is this?” Lord Carlisle remarked, a broad smile upon his face as they entered.

“We go now, Father. To fulfill your wishes,” Mason told him rather formally.

“Ah! Not as yet, boy. My wishes will remain unfulfilled until the day you marry and that marriage is consummated finally. Then will my wishes be fulfilled,” Lord Carlisle stated. Cassidy’s warm blush turned to flaming heat at his remark.

“I take her from you then, Father…before she melts in a puddle of embarrassment before your very eyes,” Mason said, grinning mischievously.

“If you’re going to melt, my dove,” the great man began, taking Cassidy’s gloved hand in his and kissing the back of it tenderly, “be sure it’s in my son’s arms and not in a puddle on the floor.”

“Yes, sir,” was all Cassidy could manage. “I mean,” she began, realizing how agreeable her answer had sounded, “I mean…I will. No, no! I mean…”

“Take her to the ball, Mason, and away from discomfort,” Lord Carlisle chuckled, kissing her hand once more.

“Yes, sir,” Mason agreed.



An uproarious applause erupted upon their entering the dining hall. All the men were standing behind the chairs on which wives, daughters
,
or other female companions were seated. “Smile, Miss Shea,” Mason whispered as a broad and very definitely alluring smile spread across his face. Cassidy forced the corners of her mouth to turn upward and nodded at her father and mother
,
who had tears evident in their eyes.

“Please, be seated friends,” Mason announced, his voice booming audibly throughout the expanse of the room. “We welcome you and beg that you enjoy an enormous feast in honor of our special guests at Carlisle Manor, Lord and Lady Shea and their family.” There was more applause as Cassidy’s father and Ellis bowed to all present. “Miss Shea,” Mason said, motioning that she should sit next to his mother and beside him where he sat at the head of the table in his father’s absence. He manipulated her chair with ease
,
and she, for all her jitters, found herself able to sit elegantly as he slid it beneath her.

Once all were seated, the attendants began to serve the first course of the meal. Cassidy knew she would not be able to put one bite of food into her mouth for fear her churning stomach would force it back out again.

“You look a dream in that brown, Cass,” Ellis whispered from across the table. She could only nod, especially when she noticed that Gabrielle Ashmore sat directly across from her, next to her brother and Mason.

“Yes, Miss Shea,” Gabrielle chimed. “Quite the dream. Don’t you agree, Mason?”

Cassidy’s indignation burned. Gabrielle was far too familiar with Mason’s sharp tongue and knew her asking about Cassidy’s appearance would bring forth a remark to dampen Cassidy’s already disappearing confidence. To make matters worse, all other conversation at the table within hearing distance of Gabrielle’s remark ceased
,
and everyone looked to Mason, waiting for his response. Cassidy looked to him hopefully
—h
er eyes pleading for salvation.

Without pause
,
he said, “Miss Shea is all essence…the very marrow of my dreams.” Poignantly he reached over to where Cassidy’s hand lay in her lap. Placing his own over hers encouragingly, he winked reassuringly, surprising her with the gesture.

“Bravo, my boy,” an older man who sat some way down the table commented, and all the women in attendance sighed heavily, flashing smiles of approval at Mason. Cassidy gave him her own smile of thanks—thanks for salvaging her pride for the moment. As she glanced across the table at Gabrielle, it was to find not an angry, hateful expression, but more that of confusion.

The meal went forth, and Cassidy noted Ellis often distracted Gabrielle from staring longingly at Mason. She knew her brother was ever her champion. And several times when her courage would begin to fade, she glanced at Mason, and he grinned supportively, sometimes winking at her as well.

But all too soon the meal ended
,
and Mason asked everyone to gather in the main dance hall so the ball might begin, stating that he had an important announcement to make. Everyone, already fully aware of the announcement that he intended, smiled and began chatting amongst themselves as they made their way to the grand ballroom.

“Miss Shea?” came Mason’s voice as Cassidy paused in rising from her chair. Mechanically, she rose and took his arm, feeling the heat of a horrid blush rise to her cheeks and her entire body begin to tremble uncontrollably. Once everyone assembled in the ballroom, Havroneck cleared his throat
,
and Mason at once had everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends,” Mason began, a smile blazoned across his face, “I have wonderful news to deliver to you this grand evening. No doubt, all of you, especially you gentlemen, noticed the strikingly beautiful daughter of my acquaintance, Lord Shea.”
Masculine chuckles erupted in the room. “Lord Shea has graciously entrusted his daughter to my care…to my protection…to my adoration. It is with a greater pride than my stumbling words can proclaim and it is my honor to present her to you now…Miss Cassidy Shea…my betrothed!”

Exclamations and all manner of applause followed at a near deafening roar
,
and Cassidy forced a smile and a nod in the three main directions before her.

“I shall die before this is through,” she said quietly.

“You shall not,” Mason commanded. “You’re my betrothed now…officially. You’ve not my permission to die,” he said, smiling while nodding at the assembly. “Please. Everyone,” he continued, raising his voice. Once the fanfare had died away
,
he added, “Please…join me in my celebration at this most blessed of evenings as Miss Shea and I begin the dance.” Motioning to the musicians, he led Cassidy, still half dazed, into the midst of the multitude, which moved away as a wave, leaving a large empty expanse of floor in their honor.

As Mason took Cassidy in his arms, one at her back
,
the other supporting her hand, she whispered, “Too close, sir. Far too intimate!” For she was somewhat shocked and very self-conscious at the proximity to his own body at which he held her.

“Nonsense, Miss Shea,” he mumbled. “There’s no such thing.” As the music began, he led her skillfully in the dance. It seemed eons that she danced with him, gazing into his eyes, a false smile of delight upon her face, before her parents and Ellis with, of all women, Gabrielle joined them on the floor, signaling that all could participate.

The music seemed to go on forever
,
and with every measure Cassidy’s body weakened in Mason’s arms. Now that everyone’s attention was not fully focused on them, she was able to consciously realize that she was dancing with Mason. He was not a graceful man in the dance, nor would she have him be so. He moved with rather a heaviness, a stiffness
,
that told her this was not his favorite activity. As if reading her thoughts for a moment, he muttered, “Someday I shall show you the only enjoyable way to dance.”