don’t hold well to taking orders from certain people.”
“Nor do I,” Cassidy retorted through clenched teeth.
Releasing her face rather roughly, he said, “ ’ Tis obvious.” Then after the impatient circling of his mount yet again, he rode away at a stiff gallop.
“You must break bread with him, so to speak, Cassidy,” Calvert grumbled angrily. “Your mother is beside herself at having to prepare to travel so quickly.”
“Break bread with him, Father?” Cassidy cried. “He is a beast! Cruel, unfeeling, and selfish!”
Cassidy had hoped that when she informed her parents of Mason Carlisle’s pompous orders to her to inform her family that they would leave the next day, her father and mother would recognize his controlling, dictatorial manner and stand up to him. It was chagrined she found herself, mouth gaping open, when upon her mother’s argument regarding Cassidy’s situation, her father insisted that they conform to Mason’s wishes.
“I suppose he is a beast of sorts,” Calvert agreed.
“At last!” Cassidy exclaimed, relieved at finally gaining his support.
“And I suppose it is our fault that he is so.”
“What? How can you constantly defend him, Father? I’m your own daughter! And yet you side with him at every turn.”
“Lower your voice to that of respect to your father, child,” he scolded calmly yet firmly. “He is a wounded lion backed into a corner. How else should we expect his behavior to be? I have no doubt that he recognizes his anger and impatience. As well he recognizes that it should improve once he’s at home, in his own ranks.”
“Yes. And I shall be alone among the enemy.” Cassidy was angered greatly by her father’s continued support of Mason’s cause. Couldn’t he see what kind of a brutal man in whose hands he placed his daughter?
“LaMont and Devonna are far from your enemy, Cass,” Calvert retorted. “And I suspect you’ll find that Mason will be quite different in disposition once he feels less like your executioner.”
The early spring flowers were fragrant, their colors soothing , as Cassidy sat quietly in their midst in the west gardens in the late afternoon. Her eyes had long since depleted themselves of tears. She had no more to cry. She sat contemplating the fact that in the past twenty-four hours her life had changed utterly. Reversed completely. Yesterday she had lingered in the gardens with Gavin Clark, gazed into the beautiful blue of his eyes , and thought she had known love. Yesterday she knew that her own parents would never enslave her to a man simply because of wealth and title as Marietta Longswold’s parents had sold her to Lord Rapier. Yesterday life seemed wonderful, the future full of hope, beauty , and promise.
But today, today reality had captured her. Today she had come to realize that her parents were, in a manner, no different than Marietta ’s. Today she knew that she did not love Gavin Clark. She knew her feelings for him were fondness of some sort, but not love. Yet she could not blame that on her new situation, for it had begun to reveal itself to her in the stable when he had kissed her. That revelation would have come about anyway. Still, there was Mason Carlisle. And to be sure he was no Lord Rapier. No, indeed not!
Mason was in all aspects inspiring to look upon , i n all aspects masculine, nearly to a fault. He was young yet matured and powerful. He was attractive —m agnetic in his being. Cassidy had no doubt that she would be the envy of all women that knew him. Still, there was this Gabrielle , and her mere existence vexed Cassidy nearly beyond endurance, for hate him or love him, Cassidy would be faithful to him and the vows of marriage. But if Mason Carlisle appeared at her own father’s threshold demanding his betrothed when his lover awaited his return at his home, then what kind of a man was he in other character?
All these things battled against one another in her mind and heart as she
“Nor do I,” Cassidy retorted through clenched teeth.
Releasing her face rather roughly, he said, “ ’ Tis obvious.” Then after the impatient circling of his mount yet again, he rode away at a stiff gallop.
“You must break bread with him, so to speak, Cassidy,” Calvert grumbled angrily. “Your mother is beside herself at having to prepare to travel so quickly.”
“Break bread with him, Father?” Cassidy cried. “He is a beast! Cruel, unfeeling, and selfish!”
Cassidy had hoped that when she informed her parents of Mason Carlisle’s pompous orders to her to inform her family that they would leave the next day, her father and mother would recognize his controlling, dictatorial manner and stand up to him. It was chagrined she found herself, mouth gaping open, when upon her mother’s argument regarding Cassidy’s situation, her father insisted that they conform to Mason’s wishes.
“I suppose he is a beast of sorts,” Calvert agreed.
“At last!” Cassidy exclaimed, relieved at finally gaining his support.
“And I suppose it is our fault that he is so.”
“What? How can you constantly defend him, Father? I’m your own daughter! And yet you side with him at every turn.”
“Lower your voice to that of respect to your father, child,” he scolded calmly yet firmly. “He is a wounded lion backed into a corner. How else should we expect his behavior to be? I have no doubt that he recognizes his anger and impatience. As well he recognizes that it should improve once he’s at home, in his own ranks.”
“Yes. And I shall be alone among the enemy.” Cassidy was angered greatly by her father’s continued support of Mason’s cause. Couldn’t he see what kind of a brutal man in whose hands he placed his daughter?
“LaMont and Devonna are far from your enemy, Cass,” Calvert retorted. “And I suspect you’ll find that Mason will be quite different in disposition once he feels less like your executioner.”
The early spring flowers were fragrant, their colors soothing , as Cassidy sat quietly in their midst in the west gardens in the late afternoon. Her eyes had long since depleted themselves of tears. She had no more to cry. She sat contemplating the fact that in the past twenty-four hours her life had changed utterly. Reversed completely. Yesterday she had lingered in the gardens with Gavin Clark, gazed into the beautiful blue of his eyes , and thought she had known love. Yesterday she knew that her own parents would never enslave her to a man simply because of wealth and title as Marietta Longswold’s parents had sold her to Lord Rapier. Yesterday life seemed wonderful, the future full of hope, beauty , and promise.
But today, today reality had captured her. Today she had come to realize that her parents were, in a manner, no different than Marietta ’s. Today she knew that she did not love Gavin Clark. She knew her feelings for him were fondness of some sort, but not love. Yet she could not blame that on her new situation, for it had begun to reveal itself to her in the stable when he had kissed her. That revelation would have come about anyway. Still, there was Mason Carlisle. And to be sure he was no Lord Rapier. No, indeed not!
Mason was in all aspects inspiring to look upon , i n all aspects masculine, nearly to a fault. He was young yet matured and powerful. He was attractive —m agnetic in his being. Cassidy had no doubt that she would be the envy of all women that knew him. Still, there was this Gabrielle , and her mere existence vexed Cassidy nearly beyond endurance, for hate him or love him, Cassidy would be faithful to him and the vows of marriage. But if Mason Carlisle appeared at her own father’s threshold demanding his betrothed when his lover awaited his return at his home, then what kind of a man was he in other character?
All these things battled against one another in her mind and heart as she
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