Shackles of Honor by Marcia Lynn McClure Page A

grand chamber. There she beheld her first vision of the man that was father to her betrothed. He was an enormous man! The great expanse of the bed on which he lay did nothing to dwarf him. He was grandly handsome, the image of Mason, only with silvered hair and the deepest of green eyes.
    “Cylia!” the man boomed in greeting, throwing his arms wide. It was utterly astonished that Cassidy found herself when her mother fairly threw herself into the man’s bold embrace. “Cylia, my dove! You look as if you drink from none other than the fountain of youth, girl.”
    Cassidy’s eyes widened as her mother kissed the man soundly on one cheek, holding his face rather adoringly in her small hands as she smiled at him. Cassidy glanced quickly at Devonna, fully expecting her to have one disapproving eyebrow raised at the scene. But again, to her astonishment, Devonna stood, tears welling in her eyes, her hands clasped together as in a prayer of thankfulness, smiling joyously at the scene. Cassidy brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, feeling for a moment as if she might faint dead away at the confusion of it all.
    “LaMont, you fool,” Cylia sighed. “H ow dare you worry Dev like this. ” Cassidy’s attention returned to what was transpiring.
    “I am a fool, and well you know that.” The man chuckled for a moment before looking past Cylia to Cassidy. His eyes were piercing, not unlike his son’s, only warmer and approving, as they studied her. “And is this vision who stands ashen as if at death’s door…is this she who would make my son’s life whole?”
    If his eyes studying her hadn’t nearly been her undoing, his words certainly were! Releasing Cylia then, the large man held out his arms, beckoning that Cassidy should come to him. Devonna nodded reassuringly at Cassidy, and Cassidy knew that it was important to the woman that she accept the man’s embrace eagerly. With what courage she could muster, Cassidy let her feet carry her forward , and she soon found herself tightly enveloped in the great man’s arms. Cassidy was instantly bewitched somehow by him. He smelled of medicine, yes. But also of masculine soap, pipe tobacco , and cinnamon. He hugged her tightly for a long moment and then held her away from him, taking her chin firmly in one still- powerful hand.
    “The dove,” he whispered as his eyes met with hers , and a curious thought passed through Cassidy’s mind.
    For a fleeting moment , she thought, I would have loved you too . There was something alluring about him, enchanting. What is it? she wondered.
    He seemed to read her thoughts, for he spoke quietly, “He and I are cut from the same stone, d ove. I was once as thickheaded, stubborn , and impetuous as you find Mason to be now. But Dev softened me up a bit, didn’t you, darling?”
    “A bit,” Devonna answered.
    “Sit just here, pet,” he commanded, patting a spot next to him. Cassidy felt suddenly warmer and more secure than she had since the day Mason arrived at Terrill. This man would let nothing hurt or harm her if it were within his power to protect her from it. She sensed it instantly. “Now,” he continued, “tell me of the atrocious treatment you’ve suffered at the hand of my pigheaded son.” He smiled bewitchingly , and Cassidy smiled in return. “Come now, pet. Tell me. It’s well I know him.”
    “None to speak of, milord,” Cassidy answered.
    The great man wrinkled up his nose and frowned as if he’d only just smelled something unpleasant. “Milord?” he repeated. “We’ll have none of that. You may call me Father, Papa , or even LaMont. But, please, not milord.”
    “You’ll find her very formal, LaMont. She is, after all , well bred and brought up,” Devonna offered with a smile.
    “Yes, of course. Now,” he continued, “specifics please. What kind of folderol has the brute put upon you?”
    “She answered you already, Father. ‘None to speak of.’” All eyes in the room turned to look at Mason