Angrily he tossed the wine down and shoved away his plate.
“But how could you not remember?” Shanna asked softly.
Ruark sat back in his chair again and shrugged. “Oh, I’ve given much thought on that myself, and I have not quite laid it all out yet.”
A guilty man always declares he’s innocent, Shanna mused derisively. It was not likely he was telling the truth, for only a madman would forget a murder, and she did not believe that Ruark Beauchamp was mad. However, she thought it best to change the subject as she sensed his pensive mood. She accepted his refill of Madeira in her glass and sipped it, letting it ease her tensions. She could almost congratulate herself on the success of the day. Everything this far had worked as she had planned. She began to feel almost cheerful.
“And what of you, my lovely Shanna?” Ruark’s regard had turned full upon her again with all the warmth a man could have for his bride.
“Oh,” she laughed nervously. In this public place where Ralston, when he returned from his trip and learned of her marriage, could check about the newly wedded couple, she did not dare be anything but pleasant. “What would you care to know?”
“Why you felt you had to marry me when you could have chosen from any man who met your fancy.”
“Met my fancy?” Shanna scoffed lightly. “None did. And my father is stubborn to a fault. He would have seen me wed and bedded by the one he chose. Why,” she swept her hand in a graceful gesture, “he didn’t even ask my mother to wed him.”
She giggled suddenly as Ruark peered at her dubiously, a carelessly charming smile spreading across his lips.
“Oh nay, ‘tis not what you think. My father is much a commanding person. He told my mother she would marry him and threatened her with ravishment if she refused. I was born quite properly a year after they wed.”
The disarming smile remained. “What had your mother to say of it?”
“Oh, she was convinced the sun rose and set just for Orlan Trahern. She loved him deeply. But he still was a rogue. My grandfather was hanged for a highwayman.”
“At least we’ll have something in common,” Ruark remarked dryly. A moment of silence passed. Then, “Do you plan to keep the bargain?”
Shanna fumbled for a reply, shaken by the abrupt question after she had tried so hard to avoid it. “I—I—”
Ruark placed an arm behind her chair, resting his other on the table as he leaned toward her. Kissing her ear, he whispered softly. “Could you just for this night pretend you have a bit of care for me, Shanna?” he cajoled.
His warm breath stirred shivers along her flesh, and a curious excitement tingling in her breast. The wine had certainly had its effect on her, she thought in astonishment, for her senses reeled in drunken pleasure.
“Is it too hard to imagine that we’re lovers just wed?” Ruark asked, breathing against her throat. His arm came around her shoulders, and Shanna had to fight to keep her world upright as his mouth, moist and parted, warmly tasted hers. She struggled to push him away and free her lips. Had she drunk so much wine that she was now giddy from it? What was the matter with her? She was neither a tippler nor a woman of easy virtue. For heaven’s sake, she was a virgin! And if much was made of it, a tea drinker on nearly all accounts!
“I’ll be gentle with you,” Ruark sighed as if he read her mind. He pressed his lips to the tempting corner of her mouth. “Let me hold you, Shanna, and love you as I long to do. Let me touch you—have you—”
“Mister Beauchamp!” she gasped breathlessly and avoided his kiss. “I certainly don’t intend giving myself to you here in the common room for the amusement of all. Let me go,” she begged, and then more sternly, “I’ll scream if you don’t—”
His embrace relaxed somewhat, and Shanna rose to her feet in a rush, announcing shakily, “We’d best be on our way.”
Shanna fled to the door as Ruark paused to fetch his cloak and tricorn; and when he tried to rush after her, Pitney and the guards were there at his elbows. Heedless of the downpour and the puddles that marked the way, Shanna dashed from the inn. Ruark would have followed after her, but there was some delay as the keeper, fearful that the cost of his meals would be lost, began to argue sharply with Pitney, who was more interested in keeping Ruark at his side. A hefty purse tossed to the innkeeper silenced further debate, and at last Pitney allowed Ruark to precede him to the carriage.
The rain was now a steady drumbeat upon the roof of the Briska. Drenched and shaking with the cold and her own emotions, Shanna had slid tightly in a corner of the seat, giving the greater portion of it to whomever would take it. She had managed with trembling fingers to strike the flint and light the small tallow lantern that hung from the inside wall of the carriage.