Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(252)

A light tapping on his chamber door interrupted his musings, and Shanna’s voice called softly, “Papa, are you awake?”

He dropped the papers on the desk and urged, “Come in, Shanna, come in.”

The door opened, and Shanna slipped in, closing it behind her. She came across the room to press a kiss upon his brow and saw his amused smile.

“Is something wrong, papa?” she asked wonderingly.

“Nay, child. I was just remembering.” He gazed at her with fondness. She seemed tiny within the loose, flowing velvet folds of her dressing gown. “You sounded frightened, just as you did when you were a child and the storms came. You would tap on our door and call and then come and snuggle between your mother and me.”

Shanna cringed inwardly and sought a chair to ease her shaking. She could only sit and look at her trembling hands, though she knew his eyes were on her and that he waited.

“Papa, I—” Her voice was low and thin, almost tremulous. She drew a breath and blurted it all out in one rush. “Papa, I’m with child, and the father is John Ruark.”

A moment of dead silence followed, and Shanna could not lift her eyes to see the shocked anger on her father’s face.

“Good lord, woman!”

Shanna jumped as his voice roared out. Orlan shot out of his chair and in a step was standing in front of her. Shanna braced herself again, but his voice came lower, even though it still sounded coarse and loud in the quiet room.

“Do you know what you have done?”

Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and tears hung on the thick lashes, threatening to fall as she hunted for a way to express her feelings. Then his words fell on her ears and filled her mind.

“You have solved for me, dear child, a problem which has soured my stomach every day these weeks past. How could I, with all my prattling of blood and titles, ask my daughter to wed a bondsman?” He bent and took her hands from her lap and lifted her chin until he could look into her face. “If you would have given it to me to choose, I would have begged you take the man, Ruark. But as I vowed, ‘twas your choice to make, and I would interfere no more.” He searched her face. “Do you love him?”

“Oh yes, papa.” She rose and, throwing her arms about his neck, hid her face against his shoulder. “Oh yes, I love him.” Her whisper was soft and happy.

“Does he love you? Will he see you properly wed?” He gave no pause. “By damn, he will!” His voice began to raise in anger. “He will, or I will see him—”

Shanna’s fingers went across his lips, hushing him. It was in her mind to blurt out the whole story, but the truth of her deception might well cause harsher feelings to stir. A little at a time was better than pressing good fortune.

“Papa, there is a difficulty. I will tell you all in good time, but there is a reason we cannot bring it to light for a while.” She saw his frown and begged him. “Trust me, papa. It will come out for the good. Trust me?”

“I suppose you have good cause,” he yielded reluctantly. “But it must not be too long. I would spread the word of my offspring.”

“Thank you, papa.” She kissed him and fled the room, returning to her own. There she closed the door behind her and strolled deep in thought toward the bed, smiling and tearful at the same time. A shadow rose from the chair across the room, and she gasped before she recognized Ruark. She flew into his arms and laughed against his chest, holding him tightly.

“I told him, Ruark. I told papa about us.”

“I guessed as much.” His lips touched her hair. “I heard his bellow of pain.”

“Oh, nay!” She leaned back and looked up at him. “He approves, Ruark. He was happy with it.”

Ruark’s brows lifted in surprise.

“Oh, I didn’t tell him we were married, only that we had made a baby together.”

Ruark threw up his hands and groaned. “Thanks a lot, madam. Now I am a molester of widows.”

“Cad!” Shanna danced away from him, and gazed back coyly over her shoulder. “Were I in truth a widow, that might be true. Of course,”—she faced him with an angry pout well freigned—“there is that hennaed widow. Is that the one you refer to?”

“Nay, madam. Rather a young, tawny wisp of a woman who tempts my ardor overmuch.”

Coming to a conclusion of his own, Ruark grew serious. “Shanna, love, since the night seems one to bring out the truth, I, too, have something to confess.”

“Ruark, I have no fear of your former loves,” Shanna laughed. “Ply me with no secrets now. My nerves are still aquiver.” She went to the door and turned the lock. She glanced about the room, somewhat puzzled. “How did you come here? David was about below. I saw him from the stairs. Have you grown wings of late?”