Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(158)
Facing the swamp again, Ruark spoke over his shoulder as his eyes ranged far, his voice gentle. “You’ve called our outing pointless, Shanna. And so it must seem to all of them. But ‘tis out there that we might find our escape.” He bent earnest eyes upon her. “The Spaniards cut a channel through the swamp, but Mother hid the entrance and will not yield its secret.” He nodded with his head toward the tangled growth. “You hear the birds?” he asked There was a constant murmur of sound from the swamp. “There are birds, my love, but then there are other things. Caimans, lizards, all sorts of snakes. ’Tis impossible to cross on foot, and if we could, there is open sea beyond. We shall need a boat, a fairly large one, though the Good Hound is too much for the two of us to handle.” Then Ruark shrugged. “But ‘tis useless to prattle on. We’ll find what we need if we must. Perhaps your father will pay your ransom and see you safe before too many days are passed. The bondsmen the pirates sent back will reach him tonight or early on the morrow. He will surely come apace.”
Ruark gazed down at her, knowing well that if he managed to get her back to Los Camellos, it might very well mean a severe punishing for himself. Trahern would take his leaving amiss, as he no doubt already did, and Ruark wondered if Shanna would see him thrashed rather than offer the truth to her father. Whether she did or not, his only concern at present was getting her out of this hellhole.
He took out his knife and knelt beside her.
“Poor Shanna.” He smiled softly, though she turned a still heated glower upon him. He lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “I only meant to spy out the lay of the land should I need to know.” He reached toward her and as she drew away his tone became brusque. “Hold still.”
His command brooked no refusal. The knife bit into the sleeve of the gown, cutting it off at the elbow. Then he split the seam on the underside so that a small capelet hung from her shoulder, demure but loose and cool. He repeated the operation on the other sleeve and then sat back on his heels, considering her tightly pressed bosom for a short time before leaning forward again. The starched yoke sailed off into the brush, startling a flock of birds with its flight. Lopping the loose end from his sash, he rolled the soft silk beneath the neck of her gown, frowning as he saw the raw skin there.
“I’ll not have you abuse my property, madam. I command you to take better care.”
Shanna sniffed at his attempted humor, but, somewhat ashamed of her own foolishness, she held her tongue and submitted herself further to his ministrations. As he plied his blade to the outer stitches of the seams, she could feel the binding bodice loosen in stages across her breasts. His hushed voice came to her ear.
“I’ve sought to find an alliance with you, Shanna, and in my search I have tried to conduct myself with wisdom and make the best of whatever is offered. ‘Tis my aim to see you safely back to your father, and to that end I beg you cease this self-abuse and lend yourself to seeking out whatever will serve our welfare. That same is common to us both, my love. At least for a time. There!”
He rose to his feet and stepped back a pace, staring down as Shanna took the first deep breath she had been able to draw since donning the garment.
“What is left of the seams,” he remarked, indicating the bodice, “should hold until we are in our room again. Are you comfortable now?”
“As much as can be expected,” she replied, much sharper than she had intended.
Ruark presented his back, and his own voice was gruff as he spoke again. “If you are able, we can return now.”
Shanna tested her heel, amazed to find it without pain. She was more surprised to find Ruark’s arm waiting to assist her. Taking it, she leaned against him until they came in sight of the village and then dropped back in her usual place. He whistled and swung his stick again, appearing for anyone who cared to take note as if he were out for a lighthearted stroll. But now his stride was shortened and his pace more considerate; his gaze wandered around now and again to take notice of Shanna’s progress.
They had passed through the village and were approaching the inn when Ruark left the well-traveled path, exploring along a narrow trail which wove a way through grass-tufted dunes and low, scrawny brush leading them eventually to a small, clear pond. A herd of goats scattered at their approach and fled into the scrubby bushes that hid the oasis. It was a vale well hidden from the casual eye. A small, seeping spring fed the pool which in turn gave its moisture, through a shallow rift, to the sea. The air hung motionless in the hollow, and the sun beat down mercilessly, lending it the warmth of a kiln.