“Madam, are you taking me to task for my manners?” Gaylord inquired in astonishment. “Madam, I come from one of the finest families in England, and I know how to deal with hirelings.” He looked down his nose at her. “The magistrate, Lord Gaylord, you might know of him. He is my father.”
“Indeed?” Amelia smiled tolerantly. “Perhaps, then, you know the Marquess, my husband’s brother?”
Gaylord’s jaw dropped sufficiently, and much satisfied with his reaction, Amelia swept around with a swish of silk and moved to take her place again among the three smiling ladies.
“The Marquess!” Gaylord stammered and came a step nearer. “The Marquess de Beauchamp of London?”
Amelia raised her eyebrow lazily and regarded him. “Is there any other? I wasn’t aware of it.” She motioned Rachel in; the girl cautiously made a wide path around Sir Gaylord. “Now, ladies, where were we?”
“You were marvelous, mama,” Gabrielle cried with delicious enthusiasm when the man had retired from the room.
“It was a wicked thing I did,” Amelia confessed. She shrugged girlishly, and her laughter sparkled in the room. “But just the same, it felt good. The way Gaylord ordered Mister Ruark away from our table last night, a body would think he’s made himself squire here.”
“Nathanial said he heard that Sir Gaylord’s father was in Williamsburg visiting,” Charlotte announced, taking a cup from Amelia. “I wonder if he’s a boor like his son.”
Then her dark eyes turned, almost worried-looking, to Shanna, who had suddenly stopped stirring her tea. Beneath the woman’s stare Shanna quickly bent her attention to her plate, afraid her distress might be noted. She could only consider how she might escape the house to warn Ruark that Hanging Harry was close enough to be dangerous.
“My goodness, Shanna, that was rude of me,” Charlotte apologized. “I should allow that you might like the man. Gaylord did say this morning at the table that you and he were close to being betrothed.”
Shanna choked on a buttered muffin. “Me?” She swallowed some tea to help the crumbs go down and shook her head in a definite manner. “I assure you ‘tis his own wishing. I gave him my answer,”—she rubbed her wrist with the memory—“and it was most certainly a refusal.”
“Then why should he continue to press you, Shanna?” Gabrielle asked. “He hasn’t even cast a glance toward me since this morning, which truly relieves me, but for a few moments today one might have sworn he was ardently in love with me. If you have told him nay, then why does he speak of your betrothal?”
Shanna could only shrug. Then Charlotte broke out into amused laughter.
“Perhaps Shanna was a little more delicate with her refusal, Gabby dear. ‘Tis rather deflating to any gentleman to be told by a young lady that he’s old enough to be her father and to be reminded of his paunch besides.”
Shanna giggled in her cup. “And I thought my answer was brutal. If his cheek doesn’t smart, my hand still does.”
“Oh, gracious,” Gabby beamed. “Did you really? Good for you, Shanna. But why does he still pester you? You would think he’d give up?”
“I suppose Mister Ralston informed him that my father wanted me to marry a man of title,” Shanna replied. “No doubt Gaylord still hopes I will be influenced by his knighthood.”
“But the squire doesn’t seem to care for the man, either,” Amelia responded. “In fact, he became quite angry when Gaylord told Mister Ruark to leave and eat with the servants. You missed something of a row, my dear, with your father declaring he’d take his dinner with his bondsman, and George telling everyone he’d be master in his own house and invite whomever he would to our table, and there was poor Nathanial trying to soothe everyone’s temper and not accomplishing much at that. ‘Twas a full quarter-turn of the hand before any of us realized Mister Ruark had gone. But George and the squire haven’t given Gaylord a civil word since.”
“Then, perhaps, ‘tis best I left when I did,” Shanna remarked wryly.
It was a short time later when Shanna found herself alone with the eldest Beauchamp woman and wondered at the excuses the two others had given as they hurried from the room. Through the front windows Shanna could see Gaylord stalking across the yard, his hands folded behind his back, his head down, as if he pondered some deep subject.
“I suppose, Shanna, that you’ve heard many tales that impress you with the idea that Virginia is a savage land.” Amelia chuckled at her nod. “Aye, ‘tis savage, but I’ve never regretted coming here to build our home. We lived in a log cabin until we could clear the land and build this house. We only had Nathanial then, and we were but children ourselves. My parents were fearful. They wanted me to stay behind in England until George could make a home for us. They thought he would give up and come back. And he has often said that he might have if I hadn’t come with him.”