“Gaylord Billingsham,” he named himself and almost daintily extended his hand. “Knight of the realm and gentleman of the court. I sent you a letter some months ago when I learned Squire Trahern would be traveling here.”
“Aye, I remember,” Nathanial responded. “But ‘tis no time to speak of business. Let us see to the amenities.”
Guiding the gentlemen to his parents, Nathanial began the introductions. It was not felt by anyone but the knight when he was presented last, or at least nearly so, for Ralston was the only one who followed him.
The sun had touched the hilltop to the west, and the day was growing darker. It was the senior Madam Beauchamp who put an end to the conversations that were beginning on the lawn.
“Good sirs and ladies,” she chided. “ ‘Tis unseemly that we should take a chill when a fine, warm house is close at hand. Come.” She took her husband’s arm and caught Shanna’s with her other. “We shall have a table set after a while. The gentlemen would no doubt enjoy a libation before we eat, and I, for one, am cold.”
Amelia led them all within, and soon the men were enjoying well-aged brandy. A light sherry sparkled in Shanna’s glass, but she took care only to sip a tiny bit, for since Gaitlier’s wedding her stomach had formed a slight aversion to intoxicants. Her eyes smiled at Ruark, who had trailed along and stood watching from just inside the door.
Gabrielle sidled close to Nathanial and nudged him with her elbow then inclined her head toward Ruark. “Who’s that?”
“Oh, of course.” Nathanial seemed embarrassed for a moment. “This is—ah—John Ruark, another associate of Squire Trahern.”
“Oh, the bondslave!” Gabrielle spoke over her shoulder with childlike innocence. “Mama? Should he be in the house?”
Shanna held her breath in shock. Would the Beauchamps take offense? She had not even considered it.
Gaylord did not miss the exchange. “A bright young lass, quick to grasp the nuances of class. She would go far at court.”
He caught Shanna’s cold glare but smirked at his own cleverness.
“Hush, Gabrielle,” Amelia Beauchamp sternly commanded.
The young woman stared boldly at Ruark, who returned her regard with a frown that hinted of violent thoughts. Gabrielle’s voice came just loud enough to be heard as she spoke aside to Nathanial.
“How could anyone be so witless as to let themselves be sold for money?”
Gaylord was, as usual, ready with an explanation. “A lower class of people, young lady, unable to handle the simplest affairs of life.”
Tense silence greeted his observation before the eldest Madam Beauchamp reproached her offspring.
“Gabrielle! Hush your prattle! Mister Ruark cannot help what he is.”
Gabrielle wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Well, anyway, I wouldn’t want a bondsman for my husband.”
“Gabby!” George Beauchamp spoke softly but with such a tone as to brook no disobedience. “Mind your mother. ‘Tis not Christian to bait the less fortunate.”
“Yes, father,” Gabrielle meekly complied.
Shanna caught a glimpse of Pitney laughing into his cup and mused in sudden rancor, “For an uncle he’s not too bright. He has sipped himself into a stupor with his jug of ale and guffaws like a mindless idiot while they poke fun at Ruark.”
But when she glanced at her husband, Shanna grew puzzled, for he seemed relaxed and not at all angry as his gaze followed the young woman, Gabby. Indeed, there was something akin to pleasure in his face until Gabrielle turned and, catching his attention on her, flashed him a smile of pure innocence. His eyes narrowed threateningly.
Setting her glass aside, Shanna found Gabrielle’s deep brown eyes upon her and wondered at the sudden worried frown that marked the young woman’s brow.
“Squire Trahern was kind enough to the man,” Gaylord continued imperiously. “Took Mister Ruark into his own house and treated him like a member of the family. Too good for him, I say. The slaves’ quarters will do for him. No need to trouble you good people further with the likes of him.”
“ ‘Tis no room there,” Amelia snapped. As her husband dropped an arm about her shoulders, she continued in a softer tone, “He can stay in the house.”
“As I’ve said before, the chap is fond of horses.” Leisurely the knight took a pinch of snuff. “Let him make his bed with them.”
“I’ll not—” Amelia began in a burst of heated ire, but Ruark interrupted.
“I beg your pardon, madam, but I’d just as soon sleep there, if you have no objection.” He leaned back against the door frame and folded his arms as Gaylord glared at him.