Shanna (77 page)

“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 deceit in anyone.”

“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.”

T
HE 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 foot.”

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.”

“Whatever you can spare, sir.” The major relaxed a bit. “I would not inconvenience you in any way.” He cleared his throat. “Now, as to my business here. I have been informed that an escaped murderer is here. According to an unsigned letter I received from Richmond, the man goes under the name of Ruark. John Ruark.”

Silence fell like a shroud over the room. A feather falling to the carpet would have raised a din by comparison. Only Ralston did not give way to absolute surprise. Shanna dared not move, though her eyes went
discreetly to Ruark. With a sigh of resignation, Ruark turned from the fireplace and met the major's eyes boldly, a laconic smile on his lips.

“I surrender myself to you, Major Carter. I shall make no effort to escape.” Ruark nodded toward the soldiers. “No need for violence here.”

The major's eyes slowly roamed the room and the tense, waiting faces of the others present “I believe I shall accept your promise. You realize, of course, you are under arrest?”

Ruark nodded, and the officer dismissed the two men by the door. He returned his gaze to Ruark, and a smile began to play about his lips.

“Beauchamp! I should have guessed.” The major repeated Shanna's words unwittingly and rubbed his jaw in reflective memory. “Ruark Deverell Beauchamp, as I recall.”

Now Ralston showed the surprise that had been absent earlier. His mouth sagged open, and he stumbled a step toward the officer. “Wha—” His tongue was no lighter than his feet. “Him? Beauchamp?” His finger stabbed at Ruark repeatedly. “Him? But—”

His dark eyes moved to George and then to Amelia, Gabrielle, Shanna, Jeremiah, and Nathanial. His longest stare of all was at Garland, who smiled sweetly back at him.

“Oh!” He swallowed. He toyed with the glove on his left hand and finally pulled it off as he retired to the fireplace and took his turn at regarding the coals.

“You were a captain the last time we met.” Ruark gestured to the officer's rank.

“Aye!” The major rubbed his chin again. “I remember very well. Mister Beauchamp, and I am much relieved that I have brought more men this time.”

“I'm sorry about that, major,” Ruark replied and did seem genuinely apologetic. “I can only suggest that it was being so roughly aroused without explanation that stirred my ire somewhat.”

Major Carter chuckled. “'Tis my earnest desire that I never be present when your ire is fully roused. I beg you, however, not to worry overmuch about the broken jaw. These times of peace make promotions come very hard.
It was the injury which brought my name to the fore and assured the rank to me, preventing at the same time my being cashiered Good luck it was, albeit rather harsh.” He surveyed the room. “You seem to be a member of the household.”

“My son.” Amelia's voice was sharp and tight as she took her husband's arm. “This has all been a terrible mistake. I am certain Ruark is not guilty of that hideous thing. And we intend to lend our full efforts to proving it.”

“Of course, madam,” Major Carter returned gently. “You may rest assured that a full investigation will be conducted into this matter. We have much to look into here.” He peered at George. “Sir, it has been a long ride from Williamsburg, and I believe it nearly tea time. I see you have some brewing. I wonder if I might beg a cup.”

“My hospitality has slipped,” George responded. “Would you prefer something stronger? I have some excellent brandy.”

“Sir, you are overkind to a poor servant of the crown.” The major grinned as a snifter was pressed into his hand and closed his eyes almost in ecstasy as he rolled the first sip over his tongue. “'Tis a boon to the weary.” He took another sip and enjoyed it no less than the first.

“Good heavens!” the major suddenly exclaimed. “I'll be forgetting my boots next.” He fumbled in the inner pocket of his coat before drawing forth a packet of envelopes. “Is a Captain Nathanial Beauchamp present?”

Nathanial came forward and identified himself.

“They seek to make the best use of an officer's time these days,” the major said ruefully. “These be dispatches from London bound to you through the postmaster at Williamsburg and myself. At least one of them bears the royal seal.”

Taking the letters, Nathanial withdrew to the window where the light was better.

Shanna came to Ruark and slipped her arm through his, hugging it close. Having witnessed her graceful movement across the room. Major Carter stared at them somewhat uncertainly. He had taken note of the beauty soon after his entry and heaved a sigh of disappointment as Ruark gave the introduction.