Home>>read Kathleen E. Woodiwiss free online

Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(123)

By:Shanna


Ruark raised a hand as if lifting her hair and let it fall.

“And would I add a visage that would haunt me in my loneliness like a nightmare in my dreams, most certainly it would be yours. If beneath my trembling quill a woman’s form takes shape, it is that one I have known once warm and living in my arms and that one which brings me chilled and shaking from the deepest sleep.”

Shanna’s breast ached, and her eyes were soft and moist as she heard words that set themselves like tiny, swift barbed arrows into her flesh.

“You are the one whom I fear to meet each day, and yet I cannot wait until I do. I know the pain will come. I know the choking in my throat of the words that are never spoken. I know your beauty and seek it out, though the slightest taste will leave me weak and mindless. I have no other world but you. Your smile is my sun. Your eyes, my stars. Your face, my moon. Your touch and warm caress, my earth and food. Yea, this is Shanna,” he whispered, “as I have never said before to anyone.”

Shanna sat mesmerized, enthralled by the stirring warmth of his words. As if she came from a daze, she realized he stood close before her. The stool was tall and gave her added height, but still she had to raise her eyes to meet his, which gazed down at her gently. Confused, Shanna could only stare back at him. There was a part of her that yearned to take him to her and return like tender words of love. There was within her, too, that part which reeled beneath the shock of their near discovery a few hours past and was not yet prepared for surrender and, indeed, feared the slightest touch from him. And his manner set her at odds with herself, for she had no way of knowing if he spoke from the heart, or merely recited some memorized verse he had used oft before. Shielding herself, she took refuge in lighthearted banter.

“Good sir, your tongue is smooth and doth plead your cause worthily. But I am reminded of one who seized the bridle of my mount and threatened me with anger in his eyes and of another who plagued me sorely until I yielded myself to his pleasure. Your pardon, milord, but he does not seem the same as the one who vows me his ideal of womanhood. The words ring falsely when taken in the light of what has passed. I fear this to be but another ploy designed to please my ear but somewhat departed from the truth.”

Ruark’s grin was devilish. “I beg milady to hasten in her decision. Your father has spoken of a dozen offspring to please him, and even so young a maid as yourself needs time to accomplish the task.” He rested his hands casually alongside her thighs and leaned close to leer into her face. “Do you not think we should be about it?”

Shanna carefully lifted his hands and placed them aside. “ ‘Twould no doubt please you should my belly grow with child each winter and then in spring find me laboring to add another to your house until your proof of potency exceeds the most prolific of the princely heads at court.” She turned away and then back again to confront him with a further reproof. “But tell me, sir, should I bear you a score or more, by what name shall they be called?”

“The choice be yours, my love. And upon your choice will rest the comfort of your conscience.”

“You are impossible,” Shanna chided. “You offer little in the way of solution and much in the way of confusion.”

“Then let the problem lie.” Ruark was little put aside by her reasoning. “In time and by the grace of God, all will be solved.”

“You simply refuse to comprehend.” Shanna, thumped her knees with her fists in frustration. “Why can’t you see my plight?”

“I understand perhaps more fully than you realize,” he said tenderly. “ ‘Tis the same problem every woman faces: when to give up the dreams of childhood and face the realities of life.” He lifted a shining lock of her hair from her shoulder and devoured its luxuriance before he let it fall again. His golden gaze found the sea-hued depth of hers and held it in a gentle bond which roused again the warmth Shanna had felt with his speech of avid admiration. It was like some strange spell he wove around her, and it was a struggle to free herself.

“Stand clear of me.” Her command was sudden, but it lacked in firm conviction. “Keep your distance, knave. I see through this simple assault. Once again you contrive to toss me on my back and mount me like some horny stag.”

His lips were close to hers, but Shanna was not yet ready for a quick surrender. She ducked beneath his arm and flew her perch, finding another on a saddle rack near the door but remaining ready for further flight.

Ruark seemed to discard his intent, and, lifting a long-handled wood-tined fork, he began to clean wisps of straw and hay from the stable floor.