Trahern looked almost longingly toward Pitney’s stalwart back in time to see him disappear through the doorway of the tavern. Heaving a sigh, he gestured with his hand.
“Lead on, Mister Ruark. I suppose a father has some duties toward his offspring that cannot be avoided.” He paused in reflection then added ruefully, “Still, there are times when I wish the lass would have been born to a pair of breeches.”
Ruark was exceedingly glad she hadn’t been, but did not offer any answering comment. Shanna, however, felt the heat of his eyes upon her, and they warmed her more than any verbal reassurance.
Nearly an hour later the driver of the first coach came to tell Ruark that all was ready and that they could be on their way whenever it pleased the squire.
“I’ll fetch Pitney,” Ruark offered, rising to his feet. He fished in his purse for coin. “I did say I’d buy the first.”
The tavern was a noisy place nearly bursting at the seams with seagoing men and common laborers. It was here in the midst of the bedlam that Pitney quietly quaffed his ale, leaning against the bar beside a red-haired man who appeared very emphatic about whatever it was they were discussing. Ruark could not hear above the din, but the man shook his head, hammered the bar with his fist, and jabbed a finger at his companion’s chest.
“Nay, I’ll not speak me piece now,” Ruark overheard, as he inched his way between the brawny chests of several tars who were imbibing close by. “I’ve got to find the mon meself and know for sure he’s the same and only one. Then I’ll have it out with ye and the rest who need to know. I’ll not be putting a noose about me own neck to save the hide o‘ a mon I ne’er met.”
Ruark grabbed Pitney’s arm in a hearty greeting and slapped his coins down on the bar. “Keeper, give this man another to see him through the day and one for his friend besides.”
“None fer me,” the Scotsman declined, shaking his head. “I’ve got to get back to me work on the docks.”
“Before ye go, Jamie, me friend, I would have ye meet a good man. This is John Ruark,” Pitney rasped with a twisted smile. “Or have the two of ye met before?”
Ruark frowned. Now that he looked at the man closely, there was something oddly familiar about him. But Jamie quickly got to his feet and avoided meeting Ruark’s gaze. He hastily jammed a stocking cap over his red hair and with a mumbled farewell was gone.
“Should I know him?” Ruark asked.
“Aye, but as long as I know where to find him, I’ll let it go for now.” Pitney sipped the ale and lifted the mug in thanks to Ruark. “A good brew. Have one for yerself, laddie. It’ll stiffen yer spine for the ride home.”
Warily Ruark studied him. “From the way you talk, I would say you’ve had enough for the two of us.”
With a roar of mirth the hefty man clapped Ruark on the back. “Drink up, John Ruark. Ye’ll be needing a bracer to keep yer mind off that fine filly ye wed.”
When Ruark returned to the coaches, Shanna was already seated in the first one, and as Pitney joined Trahern on the dock, Ruark adjusted Attila’s saddle so that he could gaze at the one he most adored.
“Will you be riding, Mister Ruark?” Shanna asked quietly, watching him.
“Aye, madam. With this rain I’ll have to check the roads ahead to see if they’re fit.”
Shanna leaned back against the cushioned seat and drew a thick fur over her lap. A smile of contentment slowly took possession of her face. At least he wouldn’t be far.
The interior of the carriage was not richly appointed, but rather gave an air of sturdiness and homey roominess. Piles of fur robes almost filled the seats, and a small iron warming pan was on the floor, giving off a welcome heat against her feet.
Gaylord returned, and it was with some amazement that Ruark watched him assuring the safety of several large trunks into the wagon.
“Sir Gaylord will be traveling with us?” Ruark questioned Trahern.
“Aye,” the squire grunted. “ ‘Tis to our discomfort that he has chosen to present his plans and need to the Beauchamps. And by the amount of baggage he fetched from the warehouse, he’ll be their guest for some time.
Pitney chuckled and nudged Trahern with his elbow. “At least the good knight will not be your guest. Someone else will have to feed him.”
Ruark snorted and rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. “What makes you dislike these Beauchamps so much?”
Pitney guffawed aloud at the offhanded remark, drawing a chuckle from Trahern.
“If you will take to the carriage, sir,” Ruark said, “I shall see that your chests are properly loaded beneath Sir Gaylord’s baggage. I’ve an idea that the Beauchamps should have sent two wagons along. But if all is right, we can be on our way.”