Shackles of Honor (23 page)

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Authors: Marcia Lynn McClure

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

BOOK: Shackles of Honor
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He was leading her to further anger
,
and she knew it. Furthermore, she was even more greatly angered
,
for she did know it
,
and he had succeeded.

“Can she not enter the room without lavishing you with her tender caresses? Am I to endure this disrespect, this disregard of my good reputation always? You boast so pridefully of your honor
,
and yet you expect me to forfeit mine for the sake of a woman who you title your friend. Were I to threaten her as you did my own friend, it would not reflect well on me! I would be the fool. What a twisted world we live in where men can threaten to kill other men over touching a woman and yet women are expected to endure unfaithful husbands as if it were no more than a horse’s sneeze.”

“As yet
I am not your husband. If I were
, however, unfaithful would not be a word that you or anyone else could use in referring to me!” He nearly shouted at her, though he kept his voice to a whisper. She had vexed him completely and regretted it at once. Why did she strive to anger him? She could’ve said nothing
,
and all would have gone on normally. Then in his next breath he answered the question in her mind. “If it’s my attention that you crave, Miss Shea…then let me assure you that you full well have it with such accusations! Whatever in this world gives you cause to accuse me so? To be so vexed with my friendship of the Ashmore family?”

She couldn’t tell him of the conversation she had heard between him and Gabrielle. She couldn’t tell him that something in her was drawn to him with an immeasurable attraction! She couldn’t tell him that, truly, the only way she had found to hold his attention was in vexing him…provoking him. “It’s improper,” came her weak answer. What a weak excuse it sounded indeed, even to her own ears.

“I don’t deem owning friends improper.”

“It’s not in the owning of them as friends
. I
t’s in her owning you! Her claim on you is embarrassingly obvious!”

“And how so?” He seemed suspicious
,
and Cassidy felt panic rising in her throat.

“Are you truly unaware? Did you not feel her hand at your thigh at dinner? Her fingers toying with your hair as she sat next to you? Her caress on your shoulder? Surely you, the most honorable and well-educated, wise
,
and wonderful Mason Carlisle, are not imbecilic enough for those things to escape your notice
.

“Is that what vexes you so?” he asked, calmer and lowering his voice. “That she touches me?”

“It is her manner that concerns me!”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing, and then he whispered, as if to himself, “You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Cassidy exclaimed. “Jealous? Of what? I may be guilty of pride, Mr. Carlisle. Perhaps I’m too prideful and cannot bear my reputation to be blemished, but to name my fault in pride as jealousy is…conceited
,
if nothing else.”

“Claim me then,” he mumbled through clenched teeth.

“What?” she asked, taken back by his command.

“Lay claim to me. If a certificate of marriage in the months forthcoming is not valid enough for you…then lay claim to me now. Here.”

“What do you mean? You speak in riddles.” She turned to escape him, for at his command that she claim him, her heart, which was already beating furiously from their confrontation, changed its course and beat even more furiously within her bosom at the prospect of acting on what he had said.

Roughly he took hold of her wrists, glanced about quickly as if to ensure their privacy
,
and then proceeded to lead her to the outer wall of the house nearby. Pressing her firmly back against the wall, he growled, “Claim me as you will, Miss Shea. You say that Gabrielle caresses my shoulder, toys with my hair,
handles
my legs. Very well. Take something from me that she, in your eyes, has not. Or give me something. Something that you perceive she has not given me.”

Immediately Cassidy’s attention was drawn to his mouth. His teeth were firmly clenched. It was obvious by the slight purse of his perfectly masculine lips. Cassidy was confused by the sudden moisture and warmth in her own mouth. She could think of nothing else for a moment than what a glorious ex
perience would be his kiss. But
closing her eyes tightly against his attractive face before hers, she returned to her provocation.

“Is there something? I doubt that anything I could offer…or would offer…would be new to you.” He literally growled like an angry animal
,
and she opened her eyes to meet his furious stare. “I am sorry!” she exclaimed suddenly, desperate to save herself from his further hatred. “
I…
I shouldn’t…I’ve no right to accuse and provoke you as such. I…please just release me to my own shame at my behavior.”

“No. This issue must be met and mollified here and now! What say you then, Miss Shea?” he growled in a whisper. He released her wrists but pressed his powerful legs against hers so solidly that she could not move from between his body and the wall. Angrily he stripped himself of his dinner coat. “Has she touched me then? I answer, yes!” Fairly ripping his cravat from around his throat, he threw it to the ground. Then, tugging at the back of his shirt, he stripped it from his body, pulling it over his head, and threw it to the ground as well. Cassidy’s breath was taken away by the indecent act as he then took her wrists once more, holding them firmly against the wall at her back on either side of her head. “Have I kissed her?” he breathed in an angry whisper, his mouth a mere inch from her own. “I confess it!” Cassidy closed her eyes tightly as the sting of his confession somehow tore at her heart. “Then what have you to give, as you imply, that she has not already given? What have I to give to you that she has not already taken before you? Here! Here I am! I have never stood thus…stripped before her! Stripped of my pride as well as my attire!”

He hung his head before her for a moment, seeming to gain control of his te
mper once more. Then
he raised his head
,
and Cassidy saw, though somewhat more calm, he was still very angry.

“How can you accuse me of what you do accuse?” he asked furiously through still clenched teeth. “Have I doubted your morality? Your word? Your commitment? Had I had reason to doubt you, I would not have abducted you from your family and agreed to this…this mockery of marriage! Have you not one kind word for me? Not one shred of trust and faith?”

“I…I well know you are what you say you are. A man of honor and duty,” she managed to whisper, tears streaming down her face. He released her wrists and stood erect before her.

“Why then provoke and accuse me? Why then accuse Gabrielle?” Cassidy could say nothing and simply shook her head as she continued to cry. Stepping back from her, Mason held his hands out to his sides. “Look at me.” She shook her head. “Look at me, Cassidy Shea!” he demanded. “You have stripped me of who I am. You have confused and vexed me so that I no longer know which way to turn when you are in the room. You talk of pride? I ask you, where is a man’s pride when the woman who is to be his wife has no faith in his character?” Then the power of his form was flush with hers once more. “You do not wish to touch me…for she who went before you has already done so. You do not desire my kiss…for I have given it, though not fully, before.” His hands cupped her neck with a surprising tenderness as he spoke. “You strip me of my pride. And that is my gift to you—my pride.”

Instantly her hands began to push him away. So tightly did he press against her that she could not escape him. To touch the bareness of his chest, his waist, his shoulders as she tried to struggle free was unthinkable, yet at the same time so intimately wonderful that she did not truly want escape.

“Claim me as you will, Miss Shea. I’ve no pride left to give you. I do not mean to molest you…for even you know that is not within me. I meant only to frighten you…as you have so vexed and accused me. And now I tell you, lay claim to me. If it will ease your mind where this entire situation is concerned,
I give leave to command me in any action so you may take comfort in your claim on me and mine.”

She had won the battle. Cassidy knew that his symbolic stripping himself of his shirt, as his pride, had broken him. There could never be a doubt in his mind now that he would have to give up Gabrielle. Still, she felt guilty, hateful
,
and shallow all at once. With her own ears she had heard him spurn Gabrielle’s offer of mistress to him. With her own eyes she had seen him push the girl from his arms. Why then could she not just accept that he was in earnest? Why did she feel the need to confront him further?

“I…I ask only your respect to this arrangement. Please don’t expect me to live as an outcast because I’m unwanted…everyone knowing it.”

He said nothing, but his hands slid from around her neck with some sort of a defeated caress along her shoulders until they rested finally at the sleeves of her gown, which capped each shoulder lightly. Unexpectedly, he pushed one sleeve cap downward, exposing the round softness of her shoulder. She gasped as he bent, stroking the delicate flesh there with the side of his face, causing that her shoulder should tingle with the sensation of his abrasive, roughly shaven whiskers against her tender skin. His movements were slow and deliberate as he caressed her neck and cheek with his face, his breath warm and sensational on her hair and ear. Her flesh tingled delightedly at his touch and the closeness to him.

He had been right. Jealousy had driven her to vex him in order that she may take his attentions from Gabrielle. Now her tears streamed in profusion down her cheeks out of shame and sadness for herself. The smell of his hair filled Cassidy’s senses as he bent before her, held her, caressed her skin with his face, overwhelming her with compassion and desire for him. Suddenly, for fear that she might reveal her ever-increasing feelings toward him, she frantically began to push at his shoulders, neck
,
and ribs with her own shoulders, arms
,
and hands. His skin was warm and scented with an aroma
she suspected was unique only to him. The fragrance of Mason Carlisle filled her lungs
,
and she had to escape him or weaken completely in his arms.

Finally, he straightened, his glare somewhat softened. Stepping back, he said, “There you have it. A claim on me that
no other woman has experienced. I have held no other woman when I was in such a state of undress. Caressed no other woman’s fragrant shoulder in this manner. Let no other woman’s hands rest against the bareness of me. And still
,
” he continued, “you are the only woman of my acquaintance who does not want of my mouth on hers.”

All of his seemingly well-intentioned efforts were for naught with his final words. Though Cassidy scolded herself inwardly for believing in his sincerity and compassion for her, she had. Soundly she slapped him across the face and fled. He let her go this time. There would be no pursuit
,
and she was devastated by the flood of emotions and frustration that enveloped her. Would she never smile again? Would she never laugh? Would her heart ever be completely her own? How would she vanquish the vision of him standing before her in such a state, so astoundingly sculpted? How would she cease the tingling that persisted on her shoulders and neck where he had caressed her? How would she keep the wonderful, romantic dreams of him at bay?

Quietly she entered the house through the doors that led to the kitchens and made her way up the back stairs toward the bedchambers. Rounding a corner, she stumbled as Mathias darted out in front of her seemingly from nowhere. He jumped up, resting his paws firmly on her thighs, his hind legs on the floor, tail wagging and tongue panting away happily.

“Mathias! Come!” she heard Mason’s voice command.

He was approaching from somewhere ahead of her. Cassidy pushed the dog gently from her skirts. Without thought of consequence, she opened the nearest door, not heeding to which chamber the door led, and stepped in, closing it nearly completely behind her. She peered out through the small opening that remained.

Mason did indeed come striding into the hallway where Mathias was. “Mathias!” he commanded, and the dog fell into step beside him. Mason’s frown was deep. He held clutched in one hand the very garments he had discarded outside only minutes before. He disappeared into the darkened corridor.

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