When she left, Shanna slowly sank onto the edge of the bed where she stayed for a very long time. She hadn’t realized her emotions were so apparent that they could be read without flaw. And if they were readily visible to Mrs. Beauchamp, then Orlan Trahern might soon recognize that his daughter was in love with his bondsman.
The sound of a door slamming somewhere in the house brought Shanna wide awake. She lay across the bed, still in her shift, but now a fluffy comforter was spread over her. A small clock on the mantel indicated it was half-past eight.
Shanna sat up with a start. She had only meant to rest for a few moments, but hours had gone past instead. They could not have waited dinner for her this late, and she was suddenly aware that she was intensely hungry. Nearly ten hours had passed since she had eaten and no sight of a tray. But then, she had told Mrs. Beauchamp she would be down.
Finding a heavy velvet dressing robe in her case, she slipped into it, fastening it high at her throat. Even if she had to go to the stables to fetch Ruark to help her, she was going to find something to eat. Never in her life had she known such a plaguing hunger.
“It must be because of the babe.” She smiled in wonder, realizing the change in her body, and her spirits soared. Suddenly she was impatient to hold a wee nestling form close in her arms. Lass or lad, it mattered naught. It seemed in that moment she could have loved every baby in the world. What a difference a year had made in her thoughts, for then she had, worried for fear she was with child by Ruark. An innocent she had been to believe there was even a chance. He was a bold man to have taken her virginity in the coach. But then, it had taken a bold man to win her respect—and her love.
Restraining her lighthearted step, Shanna went carefully down the stairs. All was quiet within the dinning room and parlor. Only a dim lantern burned there. But voices came from the back of the house. Servants, perhaps? Would they fetch her food? It was a chance worth taking.
Down the hall, through a smaller dining room, she went quietly, following the sound of voices. Then the aroma of food hit her, and she forgot everything else. She set her hand to push open the door. This had to be the kitchen, and the fact that it was attached to the house seemed not unusual in this frigid clime. A burst of laughter greeted her as she swung open the door, and she saw Nathanial guffawing beside his father, who wore a wry smile.
“Shanna!” Charlotte’s voice came from beside her, and Shanna turned to see the woman standing with Amelia and Jeremiah. At the table Gabrielle rose to her feet in some surprise, and the men’s humor fled as they stared, too.
“I’m sorry,” Shanna murmured, half embarrassed, realizing there was only family here. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
She started to leave when Amelia raised her hand.
“Wait, child. Come in,” she beckoned and turned to her daughter. “Gabrielle, fetch her the plate.”
“But, mama—”
“Never mind. Do as I say. Hurry with you. Can’t you see the poor girl is hungry?”
“I’m not dressed,” Shanna smiled lamely. “I’d better go back.”
“Nonsense. We kept a plate warm for you. Come sit yourself down,” Charlotte urged, sliding back a chair.
A whistling came from outside the house, and the back door burst open to admit Ruark with a load of wood in his arms. Seeing Shanna, he stopped then glanced around at the expectant faces.
“Well, set the wood down, boy,” George directed after a tense moment of silence. He gestured to the wood box. “You did say you were hungry, didn’t you?”
“Aye, sir,” came the reply, and Ruark deposited his load, catching Shanna’s confused glance. “ ‘Twas the least I could do to repay these good people for supper.”
“Hmph!” Amelia raised her eyebrow sharply, and Jeremiah hastened forward, rubbing his hands nervously on his breeches.
“Mister Ruark, how would you like to go hunting along the ridge tomorrow? I saw some big tracks up there. Early in the morning, if you can manage it.”
“I’ll have to ask the squire,” Ruark replied, tossing a couple of logs onto the fire and giving Shanna a glance askance.
More worried about her own intrusion, Shanna took the seat Charlotte had offered and folded her hands self-consciously. Gabrielle rushed to set a heaping plate before her and hurried back to the hearth to slip another one from the brick oven.
“Mister Ruark, sit down please,” she said, placing the platter.
Two large glasses of cold milk were poured by Charlotte and placed beside their plates as Ruark slipped into the chair next to his wife. As they ate, the conversation warmed again until Shanna found herself laughing with the rest of them. Ruark’s easy wit joined theirs, and to Jeremiah’s delight, he was soon relating the riotous tale of a Scottish hunt. It was a pleasant time, and, strangely, Shanna felt a part of the family. She wondered yet if it could not be true. Perhaps Ruark was some distant cousin, some kin? Captain Beauchamp had denied the fact. Or had he? It was something to think on.