Shackles of Honor (29 page)

“Away from that edge!” a strong voice boomed from behind her.

Startled, Cassidy whirled around. Her heart pounded fiercely as she beheld none other than Mason dismounting his horse, an expression of intense fury blatant on his face. “Are you deaf, girl?” he shouted angrily. “Come away from that edge, now!”

“Mr. Carlisle!” Cassidy exclaimed. She seemed to have forgotten how striking he was in person. Her knees weakened as she looked up to him. He strode toward her but, looking down at his feet once, stopped midstep and glared at her.

“I said
n
ow, Miss Shea!” he shouted, but his sheer dominating force had frozen Cassidy
,
and she felt her feet were firmly adhered to the ground. For if she moved away from the cliff’s edge, the only direction she could take was toward this angry, alluring man. This choice seemed unfathomable in her present state of awe.

Mason’s next action quite perplexed Cassidy. He dropped to his hands and knees, crawling toward her, an inch at a time, until he was close enough to reach out and take hold of the hem of her dress. Clenching the fabric of her dress tightly, he wrapped the garment around his fist until his hold was such as to be anchored.

“I said to come away from that edge, Cassidy,” he growled. But Cassidy noticed that the strong, capable arm
that
reached out toward her shook unsteadily. Furthermore, his calling her by her first name was astonishingly uncharacteristic of the man. Still, she could not move toward him, for though she knew not his purpose, she felt a violent reprimand would meet her.

As he wrapped his fist ever tighter in the fold of her dress, she noticed her stockinged legs were revealed nearly up to her knees. “For pity’s sake, Mr. Carlisle, you threaten my modesty!”

Without another word of warning or command to her, the strong arm
that
anchored her to the powerful man pulled at her dress mercilessly, propelling her legs forward with alarming force, causing her feet to give way beneath her. Momentarily she found herself landing firmly on her backside, her body being dragged away from the edge of the cliff.

Sitting up and glaring at the man who now sat back on his heels glaring at her fiercely, she shouted, “How dare you treat me with such disregard for my well-being!”

“Disregard for your well-being?” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Another step and you would have been dead on the rocks below!”

“I was safely back from the edge, sir! As you could easily have discerned!”

“Safe distance from the edge is a matter of perspective!” he shouted. “And intelligence!”

“You impertinent brute!” she exclaimed, making to slap him soundly across the face, but he caught her hand easily in his own.

“You will not come here again, do you understand me?” he growled, moving his face close to hers.

“But…it is beautiful here,” Cassidy told him. Could it actually be that he needed reminding?

Truly it was a place of beauty. Mother Nature had spent her time embellishing this scene, adorning it with trees of greens that were more perfect than any imagining. The smell of the sea was crisp and refreshing, and the black of the rock formations here and there was restful, not foreboding. The grass beneath them was plush and fragrant
,
and the call of the gulls overhead was melancholy. The sky was beautiful. She imagined it was magnificent to behold as each evening the sun sat low in the horizon, readying itself to disappear into the depths of the sea.

Then, gazing into the depths of Mason’s furious eyes, Cassidy saw…fear. It was an odd thing to discern in the eyes of such a powerful man. Yet it was there
,
e
vident to the onlooker if time w
ere
taken to see it. Could it be? she wondered silently. Could it be that this man
—
this impervious, powerful, granite man
—
was afraid of the cliffs themselves?

“Hmm,” Mason only muttered. “Beautiful, you deem it? I deem it evil.”

“Evil? Such beauty in nature cannot be possessed of essence of evil, surely.”

“Beauty can be deceiving,” he growled. Cassidy was surprised when she witnessed the color gone from his face and large beads of perspiration apparent on his forehead though the air was cool and there was still a breeze about. “You must never go too close to the edge. It…it isn’t safe, especially after the rains. The cliffs’ edges erode alarmingly fast during the rains
,
and…and…and one could easily slip.”

“But it’s not raining now. The ground should be firm enough beneath my feet. I only wanted
—
” she said, standing awkwardly and turning back toward the cliffs.

“No!” he shouted, and Cassidy was astonished when she felt him take her hand tightly in his own. As he stood, still holding her hand tightly in his, Cassidy did not miss the slight tremble momentarily in his jaw.

“It makes you nervous then? Are you indeed affected adversely by great heights?” she asked before she thought better of it.

His eyes were again defensive and angry. “You’ll not go near the edge. That is the end of it.” He seemed to calm himself slightly. Looking away from her a moment, though he did not release his now uncomfortably tight grasp on her hand, he added, “It…the height…it causes me to experience a slight vertigo. I’ve never…appreciated the cliffs as does everyone else. Furthermore, there are several histories of death connected with them. I, therefore, feel quite justified in my estimations of their questionable safety. I…I ask that you consider my presentiments…unfounded as they seem
—
my fears, if you do not believe my concerns to be justified
—
and avoid going too near the edge.”

She was near to arguing further with him, but his expression was almost pleading. She said, “Very well,” thinking she would return at some later date alone to amble along the cliffs’ edges and appreciate more fully their magnificence, their beauty.

“Come along now,” he urged, still grasping her hand tightly. “You’
ve thus seen the infamous c
liffs of
Carlisle
and the profound weakness in the heir to the title of the lands on which they dwell.”
He turned, walking away from the cliffs and pulling her along behind him as he held ever to her hand.

Mathias came bounding up then
,
and it was only when he appeared that Mason released Cassidy’s hand to greet the great panting creature with a thorough scratch behind the ears. “There you are, my man! I cannot fathom why you allowed your mistress to venture so near to danger.”

Cassidy felt an odd delight trickle about her body at Mason’s reference to her as his dog’s “mistress
.
” It was almost as if he didn’t mind sharing his dog’s affections for that moment.

“Actually, he did not wish to accompany me…and in fact did, I believe, try to deter me,” Cassidy offered.

“Well, good man that he is, he did a sad job of it,” Mason said, crouching down to meet the dog eye to eye with a smile. Cassidy was mesmerized as Mason began to speak to the dog as if he truly would understand his words. “Now, Mathias…you’re a good man. Yes, you are. But you cannot let Miss Shea go to the cliffs. And I’ve no doubt that she intends to do so as soon as she is rid of me on some occasion.” Guilt pecked at Cassidy’s mind for an instant. “So, see…” Mason said, reaching back and taking hold of the hem of Cassidy’s dress once more. “Mathias! She must not go to the cliffs without me! Mathias!”

He put the fabric of Cassidy’s dress in the dog’s mouth and snapped his fingers, pointing in the direction opposite of the cliffs. Instantly the dog began to growl and dug furiously at Cassidy’s skirt. She could do no more than go in the direction in which he dragged her.

“He’ll tear the dress to shreds!” she exclaimed to Mason.

“He will! And then you would have to walk all the way back to the manor in your undergarments,” he stated boldly. “Therefore, I suspect that you will think twice, perhaps thrice, before venturing here again.”

“Why do you make to control me so completely?” she asked angrily as the dog at last released her with one motion of Mason’s hand.

“I do not make to control you, only to protect you from the danger of the cliffs.”

“I wondered if you would return,” she then blurted out. She was immediately angry with herself for once more speaking her thoughts aloud.

“You entertained doubt in me?” he asked, his manner again angry.

“You…you left so…so unexpectedly and angry with me…not that you’re not ever and always angry at me
. B
ut it is the very day prior to our official…official…”

“Announcement?” he finished for her.

“Yes. And not a word had we heard from you since you left. I
—
”

“Not a word had
you
heard from me, you mean to say. I surmised that you would prefer not to be pestered with news of me. After all, you didn’t have to banter with me for nearly two weeks. You did enjoy your last days of freedom, didn’t you?”

“Why ask you? Did you indeed enjoy yours?” Her suspicion was immediately aroused once more. Even Ellis’
s
assurances that Mason had no dalliance with Gabrielle while he was away did not comfort her then.

“I always enjoy business,” is all he said.

Cassidy stood staring at him, her attention suddenly drawn to his mouth. Had other women…had Gabrielle been enraptured by his kiss since the night she had tasted so briefly of it? Oh, how desperately she wanted him to reach out, taking her in his arms, holding her to his powerful body, and drenching her mouth with the heavenly essence of his full and able kiss.

“Has your brother arrived to make your life whole once more?”

“Ellis arrived at the beginning of the week, yes. He speaks very highly of you.”

“Well
,
he should, for it has come to my attention that he has made every effort to find reason to speak otherwise. And before you start spitting hateful defenses of him at me…I would’ve expected no less. He has thus proved himself a true gentleman, a brother who cares fully for his sister’s well-being.”

“He’s a wonderfully good man,” Cassidy affirmed.

“Yes. So I hear. It’s no wonder you find such multitudes of fault in me with him as your comparison.”

Cassidy was dumbfounded at his statement. As Mason began walking toward the manor, leading his mount by the reins and slapping his thigh in a familiar gesture that Mathias should follow him, Cassidy could not believe his rather humble statement. Surely he meant it in the spirit of sarcasm, but the sarcastic tone that so often accompanied his remarks was not evident, and it surprised Cassidy.

But before she could respond, he changed the subject yet again. “What is it that you and your mother have decided upon as my engagement gift to you?”

“I beg your pardon?” she stammered.

“Your gift. What have you decided to ask of me as your gift for our engagement?”

“Why…I had not thought of it. I…why
,
nothing, sir,” she answered in earnest.

“Go on with you, girl. Shed the humble
‘I ask nothing’
attitude and confess it to me now so that I may make preparation.”

“But I have truly put no thought to it, sir. I…I…”

He stopped and turned, looking at her, his frown deep and perplexed. “Are you indeed serious, Miss Shea? For I have had my requested gift from you in mind for some time.”

Cassidy was horrified. She had never considered the exchange of gifts, though she knew it to be tradition. Never, never would she be able to think of something dynamic, perfect enough to present to Mason Carlisle.

“You have?” she squeaked out.

“I have,” he answered plainly.