Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(248)
Shanna bounced from the bed and stretched like a contented feline. “Aye, very. But I am starving.”
Hergus looked at her suspiciously. “That, lass, is an awesome sign.”
Shanna shrugged innocently. “Whatever do you mean?”
Hergus busied herself laying out garments from the trunk. “I think ye know. The way ye’ve taken pains to avoid me seeing ye in the altogether, I think ye ought to be telling Mister Ruark he’s going to be a father.”
“He knows,” Shanna replied quietly and met the woman’s astounded stare. “You guessed rightly. I’m going to have his child.”
“Ooooh, naaaay,” the servant groaned. “What are ye going to do?”
“The only thing that can be done. Tell my father.” Even now, the thought of doing that brought a chill of dread to Shanna’s heart. “I hope he will not be too angry.”
“Huh,” Hergus grunted. “Ye can bet he’ll see yer Mister Ruark gelded good and proper.”
Shanna whirled and faced the woman with green lights of rage in her eyes. “Say no more to me of what’s good and proper. What’s good and proper is me loving Ruark, having his child.” She stamped her foot to emphasize her words. “I will not stand for another slur against my Ruark, from no one!”
Hergus knew when she had reached the limits of Shanna’s patience and carefully changed the subject. As she helped her mistress dress, conversation seemed appropriate and she found it hard to keep her silence.
“The men have eaten breakfast and gone, all except Sir Gaylord. He seems much attracted to Miss Gabrielle.”
Shanna scoffed. “The greedy fop. He’ll find himself a rich wife yet. I must warn Gabrielle.”
“No need,” Hergus giggled behind her hand. “She set him back on his heels. She told him that she wouldn’t have his hands on her and to mind where he put them in the future.”
“Then I suppose he’ll be after me again,” Shanna heaved a disheartened sigh. “Perhaps we can find him some doddering old widow with a heavy stick to keep him in line.”
Hergus raised her shoulders in a shrug. “He doesna seem to like the older ones. But a fine eye he has for the bonnie lasses. Why, passing through Richmond he nearly broke his neck craning it out the coach to watch a pretty young thing skittering across the road.” She sniffed loudly and lifted her nose primly in the air. “I wouldna have him.”
Shanna’s lovely brows drew into a thoughtful frown. “I wonder if he’s convinced the Beauchamps to put money in his shipyard. They might agree just to get rid of him.”
“Not likely,” Hergus chuckled. “I passed the knight in the hall this very morn talking with that fine Captain Beauchamp. The captain didna seem to be too taken with the idea.”
“Good,” Shanna smiled. “Perhaps he’ll soon leave, then.” It would be better if he weren’t around when she spoke to her father.
When Shanna descended the stairs Amelia called to her from the drawing room door. “Come join us, Shanna. I’ll have a tray fetched for you here and a pot of tea.”
Charlotte and Gabrielle played a last tinkling melody on the harpsichord before they rose and came to sit in the chairs beside the settee where Shanna took a place.
“The men left early this morning to show your father around, and it’s been so quiet in the house with them all gone,” Amelia laughed. “I think I could hear a feather drop.”
A loud crash seemed to punctuate her words, and the ladies turned to stare in amazement at the cause. A serving girl, standing at the door of the drawing room, gaped down in horror at the spilled tray at her feet. Beside her, Gaylord testily dusted his satin coat and lacy jabot.
“Addlepated twit! Be more careful next time,” he snapped. “Rushing about like that you could have ruined my coat.”
Helplessly the girl looked at Mrs. Beauchamp and twisted her thin hands in distress, her small chin beginning to quiver and her huge eyes brimming with a rush of tears.
“No need to fret, Rachel,” Amelia soothed kindly and went to help the tiny maid pick up the shattered pieces of the china teapot and plate. Handing her the last piece, Amelia dusted her hands on her handkerchief and watched the servant make her way very carefully across the hall toward the small dining room. Then the mistress of the manor turned with a deliberateness that bespoke of her authority.
“Sir Gaylord, while you are in this house you must remember not to display your criticism of the less fortunate. I will not stand for it. Rachel was indentured before she came to work for us and abused. She has not been with us long, but she is a good girl and as her services are valuable to me, I wouldn’t want her to leave because a guest of ours was needlessly harsh to her.”