“Addled indeed!” He smiled at her and sighed. “Must I forever bear the barbs of a disappointed bride?”
Shanna traced a finger in the crisp hair of his chest. “In your madness you said you loved me,” she murmured shyly.
His humor fled, and the smile left her lips as she continued, “You said it before, too. When the storm struck, I asked you to love me, and you said you did.” Her voice was the barest of whispers.
Ruark’s gaze turned away from her, and he rubbed the bandage on his leg before he spoke. “Strange that madness should speak the truth, but truth it is.” He met her questioning eyes directly. “Aye, I love you.” The pain of longing marked his face with a momentary sadness. “And that is madness, in all truth.”
Shanna raised herself from his side and sat on her heels, staring down at him. “Why do you love me?” Her tone was wondrous. “I beset you at every turn. I deny you as a fit mate. I have betrayed you into slavery and worse. There is no sanity in your plea at all. How can you love me?”
“Shanna! Shanna! Shanna!” he sighed, placing his fingers on her hand and gently tracing the lines of her finely boned fingers. “What man would boast the wisdom of his love? How many times has this world heard, ‘I don’t care, I love.’ Do I count your faults and sins to tote them in a book?” He gazed at the timid candle flame. “I am thinking of a mouse-haired girl of plain face, one whose virtue was destroyed before she knew of its existence. Then there is a man of some account who was abused as a slave. Good Gaitlier and his Dora.” He looked upon Shanna’s face, but she would not meet his eyes. “They stand hand in hand against the taunts of all and tightly close their eyes and shout aloud, ‘It makes no difference. We love!’ Do men step forth and declaim upon the clever way they chose the object of their devotion? Or if asked, would the young swain more likely shrug and spread his hands with an unminded grin and softly say, ‘I love her!’ ”
Ruark moved his leg onto the pillow and touched the bindings as if he would ease the ache of his wound.
“I dream of unbelievable softness. I remember warmth at my side the likes of which can set my heart afire. I see in the dark before me softly glowing eyes of aqua, once tender in a moment of love, then flashing with defiance and anger, now dark and blue with some stirring I know I have caused, now green and gay with laughter spilling from them. There was a form within my arms that I tenderly held and touched. There is that one who has met my passion with her own and left me gasping.”
Ruark caressed Shanna’s arm and turned her face to him, making her look into his eyes and willing her to see the truth in them as he spoke.
“My beloved Shanna. I cannot think of betrayal when I think of love. I can count no denials when I hold you close. I only wait for that day when you will say, ‘I love.’ ”
Shanna raised her hands as if to plead her case then let them fall dejectedly on her knees. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she begged helplessly, “But I do not want to love you.” She began to sob. “You are a colonial. You are untitled, a murderer condemned, a rogue, a slave. I want a name for my children. I want so much more of my husband.” She rolled her eyes in sudden confusion. “And I do not want to hurt you more.”
Ruark sighed and gave up for the moment. He reached out and gently wiped away the tears as they fell. “Shanna, love,” he whispered tenderly. “I cannot bear to see you cry. I will not press the matter for a while. I only beg you remember the longest journey is taken a step at a time. My love can wait, but it will neither yield nor change.”
His voice took on a lighter note, and his eyes twinkled with golden flecks of mischief.
“You should know by now that I am a willful man. My mother called me determined, my father called me spoiled.”
Shanna sniffed and managed a weak smile. “Aye, I admit that as fact.
He chuckled at the gibe. But come, my love, worry no more. Lie here beside me and let me feel that warmth and softness. If you cannot declare your love, at least humor a sick man.“
Shanna complied and cuddled close to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She heard laughter deep inside his chest and glanced up in wonder.
“I cannot rest, for I fret sorely on which is worse.” She raised on her elbow to frown at him until he explained. “The ache in my leg or the one in my loins.”
“You lusty ape,” she giggled, dropping her head again into the crook of his arm. “No man is ill who rouses so quickly at the slightest smile.”
Ruark held her close for a moment, kissing the softness beneath her ear before searching out her lips. There his mouth stayed long and enjoyed heartily the honey sweet taste. The room grew quiet, and for Shanna it was a most natural place to be, held close within the circle of his arms. Still, many in the house would have raged to find them thus entwined and in one bed.