Shanna by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
“Get out of my way,” Ruark growled. He was not in a mood to allow interference.
The maid was firm. “Mister Ruark, ye will not do this here!”
“Woman, you stand between me and my wife!” He almost matched Trahern’s tone and moved forward menacingly. “Get out!”
Hergus gaped at him, her jaw sagging. Very meekly she moved aside and left the room, shaking her head and mumbling to herself.
“Shanna!” Ruark began angrily, but he realized full well the hurt she had suffered. “Shanna?” His voice was softer, then softer still. “Shanna, I love you.”
“Beauchamp! Beauchamp!” She stamped her foot with each word. “I should have known.”
“I tried to tell you last night, but you would not listen.”
Shanna, faced him, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “Then I am Madam Beauchamp of the Virginia Beauchamps. I am no widow, nor have I been. I shall be the mother of a Beauchamp, and my father shall have all he wished for.”
“To hell with your father’s wishes.” Ruark took her in his arms. “You shall have all you wish.”
“You played me the fool from the first,” she accused, resisting his embrace. She kept her arms folded between them as she stared up at him. “You could have told me and spared me much.”
“Remember, my love, on Mare’s Head when you told me you could accept me if I were rich and came from a family well-named?” he questioned softly and then stated without waiting for her answer, “I wanted you to love me, Shanna, whether bondsman or Beauchamp. Had I told you, I would never have been sure.”
“ ‘Tis all yours, isn’t it? This room? The high valley? The cabin there and the bed where we made love? The horses? Even Jezebel was your gift to me, wasn’t she?”
“Whatever I have I gladly yield to you,” Ruark murmured.
Shanna’s brows drew together as a new thought struck her. “How did you come to know so much about mills?”
His hands slipped up her back as he tried again to bring her closer, but still she refused him. He answered quietly, “I have built three of my own on the James and a big one at Well’s Landing above Richmond.”
“And ships?” She raised her gaze and contemplated him suspiciously. “It always puzzled me about the schooner, how you handled her. You seem to have a talent for sailing ships as well as all your other accomplishments.”
The pins escaped her hair beneath his fingers, and the tresses tumbled free of the sedate coil.
“My family has six that ply the coast.” Ruark’s eyes softly caressed her face. “I own two, three now with the schooner.”
Shanna groaned in despair. “You’re as rich as my father.
He gave a low chuckle. “I doubt that heartily, but I can afford whatever gowns you wish.”
A hot blush stained Shanna’s cheeks as she was reminded of their quarrel and her own denials of him. “You laughed at me all the while,” she moaned disconcertedly. “How you must have ached, being unable to lay hold upon some of your wealth so you could free yourself and flee Los Camellos.”
“I told you once, money was not my problem.” He stepped to the music box and much to Shanna’s amazement slid open a concealed door at the end of it, revealing a chamber that ran the length of the base. From it, Ruark removed several wadded pieces of oiled buckskin and then two small leather bags. A very solid “clink” sounded as he hefted them in his hand. “I’ve had this ever since Nathanial came to Los Camellos. He even sent me the box to put it in. There’s more than enough here to pay my bondage and my fare to Virginia. If I hadn’t wanted to be with you, I could have left.”
He returned to her, and his hands smoothed her hair before they moved to cup her face, lifting it up so their eyes met.
“I love you, Shanna. I want you to share my life and that which belongs to me. I want to build you a mansion, as your father did for your mother, as my parents did here. I want to give you children, with dark hair and light, and watch them grow, bathed in our love. I have properties on the James. The land is good, and ‘twill nourish our offsprings. It only waits your word to say where the house will be.”
Shanna sniffed. “I rather entertained the idea of living in a cabin with you.” Ruark’s embrace tightened about her, and she murmured against his chest, “I should have your scalp, you know that.”
“Will not my baby do as well, madam?” he asked tenderly.
“Captain — pirate — John — Ruark — Deverell —Beauchamp. How shall I call you?” Shanna brushed at her tears.
“Lover! Husband! Father to your children! Love of your life. You will know me by whatever name.”
“Father Beauchamp?” Shanna shook her head in distaste. “Husband Beauchamp?” She wrinkled her nose. “Ruark? Lover?” Her arms slipped about his neck, and her mouth raised to meet his. The kiss blended their lips in joyous love.
It was a long moment before they parted and were brought to full awareness again by a polite clearing of the throat which came from the doorway. This time they turned with no fear of discovery and met Nathanial’s grin.
“I always seem to be intruding,” he chuckled.
Shanna giggled as she snuggled happily within Ruark’s embrace. “I shall not ask for your discretion, sir. Tell whom you may.”
Ruark beckoned his brother in. “What is on your mind?”
Nathanial scratched his cheek thoughtfully, and his brown eyes were warm with humor. “I was afraid Shanna might think me a liar for not claiming you as my brother, and I just wanted to set the record straight now that the secret is out.”
Impulsively Shanna pressed a kiss upon Nathanial’s cheek. “I forgive you. No doubt Ruark swore you to silence.”
“Aye, that he did,” Nathanial responded. “When we put into port at Los Camellos, Ruark sought me out. I gave him money to pay for his bondage, but he refused to leave or have the story out. I thought him mad or beguiled by a witch.” The captain gave a humorous laugh. “Then I met you, and I could understand at least a part of his reasoning. With all due respects, madam,”—he bowed slightly in apology—“I had indeed accounted for all my brothers when I talked with you. ‘Twas no lie I gave you.”
“But how came you to be there?” Shanna questioned. “Surely it was not coincidence.”
“When I put into port in London, I made inquiry as to the whereabouts of Ruark. I learned he had been accused of murder and hanged for the deed. The Newgate records reflected that his body had been delivered to the servant of one Madam Beauchamp. At the docks I was informed that that same lady and her retinue had sailed to an island called Los Camellos. My curiosity was stirred, so I made it a stop on my return voyage. I should also tell you another thing that may ease your mind somewhat. I hired barristers in London, and they promised me a most serious investigation into the matter of the girl’s death, although as yet I have received no encouraging word.”
“But surely it will come,” Shanna said. “It must! Ruark didn’t kill the girl. And we don’t want to spend the rest of our lives hiding from the world. There will be more children after this one. They’ll need a home and a name.”
Ruark moved close behind his wife and folded his arms about her. “Aye, there’ll be many more,” he agreed. “Beauchamps all for the world to know.”
“Have you told your father yet about the baby?” Nathanial peered at Shanna.
She leaned back against the long form at her back and caressed the lean, brown hands resting at her waist. “Aye, last night.”
Nathanial nodded in satisfaction. “Then that, too, has ceased to be a secret.”
“Forgive me, my love,” Ruark spoke. “I bore the news to my family before I brought you to them. I came down to greet them from the trail.”
“And I thought Gabrielle a little twit for taunting you,” Shanna laughed.
“They were all reluctant to play the game, but Gaylord’s presence convinced them of its importance. Mother would have had it out right away but for him,” Ruark explained. “She doesn’t tolerate dece
“It was terrible of you,” Shanna pouted, but her eyes danced as they turned askance to meet his. “I could have left, you know. I was that angry.”
“I would have followed you,” Ruark assured with a flash of white teeth. “You have my heart and my baby. You would not have escaped.”
“Aye,” Nathanial chuckled. “And you can believe that, Shanna. He was determined to win your love, and I would guess he’s gotten that.”
“Oh yes, truly,” Shanna responded radiantly.
“Then I will leave you two alone.” At the doorway Nathanial glanced back with a grin, indicating the damaged portal. “Though I suppose there’s no cause now with so little privacy.”
Chapter 27
THE FAMILIES BELOW, now joined into one, were congratulating each other and truly had not long to wait before Shanna and Ruark came down. As Nathanial had surmised, when one’s bedroom door is permanently ajar, not even a very amorous couple has much to do. Ruark went to Trahern, took the squire’s hand, and placed within it a long, slim bag.
“They’re fifty-pound gold pieces, sir,” he announced. “You’ll find thirty of them in it. The price of my bondage. Fifteen hundred pounds.” Ruark waited a moment while Trahern hefted the bag with a merchant’s skillful hand. “If you would be so kind as to sign my papers and mark them paid in full.”
Trahern reached into an inner pocket of his velvet coat and withdrew a packet which he gave to Ruark without opening it. “They’ve been signed since you brought back my daughter.”
“A poor judgment, squire,” Ruark smiled. “Now I take her from you again.”
“Damn!” Trahern fussed in mock fury. “ ‘Tis unjust that I should lose my daughter and my most valued bondsman at the same time.”
“You’ve lost nothing, squire,” Ruark assured him. “You will never be rid of either of us.” He caught Shanna gently against his side and gazed down warmly into her smiling eyes. “And God willing, we shall lay a host of smaller troubles at your door, sir.”
George sighed in audible relief and removed his broken spectacles. “I was warned not to take these off lest you discover the resemblance between my son and me, and I’m glad the secret is out so I can view the world clearly once again.” His golden eyes twinkled as he smiled at Shanna and took her hands into his. “My son has made a fine choice. You do the family proud, Shanna.”
Garland came forward rather hesitantly, holding her sleeping daughter in her arms. “I am sorry for the disturbance I caused, and I hope you will forgive me for bursting in like that.”
“At the time I was tempted to take you across my knee” Ruark grinned. “But having the matter out in the open is a great burden removed, so I suppose I should thank you.”
“You are Gabrielle’s twin?” Shanna inquired uncertainly and glanced back and forth between her husband and his sister, wondering if there might be more surprises yet to come. The close resemblance was startling.
Garland laughed gaily. “Of course, but Ruark and I have always looked more alike than the others. And that has really confused people when they know I’m Gabrielle’s twin. Ruark and I resemble father, while the rest favor mama.”
The baby stirred in Garland’s arms, and Shanna watched in fascination as the infant yawned and stretched her tiny limbs.
“I wonder if I might hold her?” Shanna asked softly.
“Oh, yes, indeed. Here.” Garland beamed with pride and placed her daughter into the waiting arms. Almost fearfully Shanna accepted the bundle which was light as a feather and soft as thistledown. The cherubic face looked up with curious wonder at this stranger’s visage, and Shanna, who had never even been close to a small baby before, was just as awed. Ruark’s arms came around Shanna as he silently admired his niece.
“She’s so tiny,” Shanna said in amazement.
“Oh, but they all are at the beginning.” Garland assured her. “You’ll see.”
Orlan Trahern sat back with a smug smile of satisfaction. There were many things that had to be explained yet, but he was confident that that would come in all due time. What mattered most was that his daughter had far exceeded his expectations in finding herself a husband and, to top it all, had gotten herself with babe. He was a happy man, and even the pain in his foot could little dim his joy.
So it occurred that in the aftermath of disaster, a great happiness was found. Ruark had taken his bride on his arm and presented her to the world, daring any to dispute his claim or to disparage her in any way, though none present would have. They were an impressive pair, he as handsome and proud as a man could be, and she as beautiful, loving and content as a woman ever. Both sides of the parentage looked upon the couple and had no doubts that this was a fine mating.
It was a joyous time for everyone. Even the maid, Hergus, suffering for so long under the weight of her secret, smiled from the doorway as she watched Shanna and witnessed her joy. Pitney, too, was proud of his sometimes questionable role in the marriage. Still, he knew a nagging uncertainty, for not all the questions had been answered and many remained to be asked. All too soon, his unease was extended to the others.
Ralston returned, and almost immediately an oppressive air settled over the formerly happy group. The thin man handed his long cloak to the doorman and came into the drawing room. With a puzzled frown on his face, his eyes roved over the normal-appearing assemblage as if he searched for some clue and then settled on Trahern with his singed hair and bandaged foot.
“I—” He began hesitantly, staring at the squire’s foot. “I would have taken my mount to the stable, but I could see no trace of the place from the road.”
Trahern gave a low chuckle. “To find the stable, one must look low on the ground.” As Ralston gave only blank wonder to his statement, he explained. “It went up in smoke early this morning, and only ashes remain.” Orlan paused and considered his agent for a long moment “Now that I think on it, I saw no sign of you. Where have you been?”
“Your pardon, squire,” Ralston hastened to reply. “I had news of an acquaintance who lives in Mill Place, and I took myself hence to seek him out. But you say the stable burned?”
“Aye,” Pitney answered gruffly. “ ‘Twould appear you missed the whole of it.” He let his statement hang so it was almost a question.
Ralston shrugged. “By the time I found my man, it was too late to come back, and he pressed me to stay the night. I did not think it to be unusual. Did you have need of me, squire?”
Trahern waved away the man’s apprehensive inquiry. “No harm done. I did not know you had friends among the colonials, ‘tis all.”
Ralston sniffed. “A friend of the family, nothing more. A reckless chap, given to unwise speculations. Hardly one to appreciate the finer points of good English manners.”
Ruark’s brows lifted dubiously. He could well imagine the gaiety of an evening with Ralston.
“You seem to have misplaced your riding crop, Mister Ralston,” Pitney commented casually.
“Misplaced! Huh!” Ralston sneered a trifle angrily. “I put it down while my mount was being saddled yesterday, and, when I was ready to leave, I could find neither hide nor hair of it. I had no time to question the stableboy as I was in a hurry, but rest assured I shall see that he returns it or suffers for his thievery.”
George Beauchamp’s brows drew together at the suggestion that his man was responsible, but Amelia rested her hand on his arm and caught his attention with a small, almost imperceptible, shake of her head.
Trahern diverted Ralston away from further accusations. “Enough! There has been too much ado about the fire and that mangy Hun who has the gait of a plow horse and as little care whereon he plants his hoof.” He prodded his bandaged foot with the butt end of his staff and winced. “Should I ever touch that mule again ‘twill be with the heavy end of my cane.”
“Come now, papa,” Shanna chided in defense of Attila. “ ‘Tis well said that he who would contredanse with a horse must be exceptionally light of foo
The round of chuckles was a bit subdued and died out quickly. Ralston gave no smile, but checked his timepiece against the mantel clock. Conversation became stilted, and the drawing room knew long periods of uneasy silence. Ralston’s presence brought a decided dearth of merriment.
It was in the hush of one of the long, quiet times that Trahern sat restlessly drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. He stopped and slowly raised his hand to stare at it. The drumming continued, and all eyes in the room came to rest upon him. The sound resolved into hoofbeats drawing near, and Charlotte went to the window as a stentorian voice bawled out a series of unintelligible orders, and the thundering of hooves ceased.
“Redcoats,” Charlotte informed from the window. “A dozen or so.”
In the excitement of the arrival, it was only Pitney who noted that Ralston wore a smile of satisfaction and glared with open hostility at Ruark. A knock came upon the door, and shortly the doorman ushered an English officer into the drawing room. Ruark had been standing with his backside to the hearth, but at the man’s entry he immediately presented his back to the room, bracing a hand against the mantel as he stared down into the flickering flames. Two soldiers with muskets followed the officer in and took up stations on either side of the door.
“Major Edward Carter, Virginia Detachment of His Majesty’s Ninth Royal Fusiliers,” the officer announced.
“Squire George Beauchamp.” George stepped forward and offered his hand, which was taken briefly by the other. “Master of this house and lands by royal grant.”
Major Carter nodded but remained stiff and formal. “I am about His Majesty’s business,” he informed George. “I respectfully request that my men be allowed to water and stable their mounts. Since we will remain the night, I also request shelter for my men.”
The eldest Beauchamp smiled ruefully at the man. “We seem to be short one stable, major. But there are other barns, and as for your men I am sure some arrangements can be made.”