Trahern nodded once and gave a small smile. “I do.”
Once upon the road, the conversation was mostly about the lands they passed and the wealth of the countryside. The relentless motion combined with the brevity of sleep in the night past made Shanna drowsy. Her eyelids sagged, and with a stifled yawn she yielded to slumber, bracing herself back against the cushion, but it was a natural place in sleep to rest her head on her husband’s shoulder, and soon she was snuggled close, her arm flung across his hips. Ruark welcomed her nestling weight, but under that more burdensome one of Trahern’s stare, he shifted uncomfortably.
“Did you say you had something to discuss with me, sir?” he questioned, clearing his throat.
Trahern pursed his lips thoughtfully, regarding the sleeping face of his daughter. “In actuality little enough, but there was much I would rather not have discussed with Gaylord.” He paused as Ruark nodded and then inquired, “You seem distressed, Mister Ruark. Is she heavy?”
“No, sir,” Ruark replied slowly. A smile twisted his lips. “ ‘Tis just that I have never held a woman with her father across from me before.”
“Relax, Mister Ruark,” Trahern chuckled. “As long as it goes no further, I will deem it your kindness to be my daughter’s pillow.”
Pitney lowered his tricorn upon his brow and peered at the younger man from beneath it, which lent considerably to Ruark’s unease. He began to sense the huge fellow knew more about them than either he or Shanna had ever offered.
At the noon hour they stopped alongside the road and feasted upon a box lunch packed at the tavern. Soon after, they resumed the journey. The teams labored up a long incline from the valley floor and the rolling foothills and green forest were left behind. Here the trees bore little hint of green but rather were garbed in a splendorous riot of color and only an occasional sheltered oak still raised its arms in summer color, or a rare tall pine or spruce.
Finally all the coaches stood in Rockfish Gap. A magnificent panorama spread out beneath them in all directions. The mountains ranged north and south, their brilliant autumn colors dimmed by the bluish haze that clung to the peaks. The sheer beauty of the view took one’s breath away. Shanna stared in awe of the countryside, which was gilded with dark coppery hues and where the late afternoon sun touched, bright golds and brass. Even the memory of soft, misty evenings in Paris or the lush, tended fields of England dimmed in contrast with this wild untamed kaleidoscope of color before her. She respected the soft pride that rode in Ruark’s voice as he drew their attention here or there. When she would turn, she would find him watching her closely, almost expectantly, as if he waited for some reaction from her. Then, at her wondering look, he would just smile while his eyes glowed with intimate warmth.
“The rains may have washed out or softened some of the roads,” he explained as Trahern climbed into the coach again. “I’ll ride on ahead and leave sign for the drivers. They know the way and from here ‘tis mostly downhill. I’ll either join you again or be waiting.”
Tipping his hat, he strode away without pausing for a reply. A quick thud of hooves rang out, and he was gone.
The drivers shook out their reins, clucked to the teams, and the coaches began to move again. A quick series of sharp bends, and they left the ridge to ease out across a low shoulder, then traveled southward as the way straightened out in a slow curve around the hip of a mountain. They crossed a narrow trail where a small tavern and a trading post squatted beside the road. Further on, a wider road crossed, and here the coaches slowed to make the turn, now heading northward along the mountains. The horses galloped loose in the traces as if the coach were only a light weight behind them. The brake shoes whined as the coachmen rode with one foot on the long brake lever and slowed the headlong plunge as the hard-packed road dipped ever lower into the valley.
Wide fields began to show on the left where the valley fell away. Shanna’s heart rose in her throat as the carriage dipped and careened downward almost on the horses’ heels, and now the fields stretched out on either side. Still the valley floor rolled with hills and vales, a copse of woodland here and a broad field there.
Suddenly a horse was dashing alongside them, and Shanna recognized the gray of Attila. The coachman talked and sang to his team, slowing the carriage to a halt. As Trahern leaned out the window, Ruark reined Attila close.
“We’re almost to the Beauchamps‘, sir. Only a short distance further. I was wondering if Madam Beauchamp would care to ride the rest of the way on horseback.”
Trahern turned to ask his daughter, but Shanna was already pulling on her gloves. She leaned forward from the door, and Ruark swept her from it, onto Jezebel’s back. Soon the caravan was rushing on. The two riders led the way, and, as Pitney could see from his window, they drew ever further ahead.