Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(253)

“Nay, my love.” Ruark gestured to the window. “The oak that grows beside the kitchen makes a good enough ladder. I thought you might have need of company.” He set his hands upon her narrow waist and drew her to him. “But, Shanna, there is a thing I would tell you. This is my—”

Shanna silenced him with her lips and pressed herself tightly against him.

“Come, tell me of your love, Sir Dragon,” she murmured. “And afterwards let me see some proof of it.”

“I love you,” Ruark whispered as his arms slipped around her beneath her robe. He felt the heat of her soft body under the thin silk of her gown, and all other thoughts fled his mind. “I love you as the earth must love the moon which climbs like a silver goddess in the night and brings light to the tiny creatures of the dark.”

Pulling him to the bed, Shanna purred against his chest and caressed its hard, bare firmness.

“I love you like the flowers love the rain and spread their petals to bear their tender hearts before its gentle touch.” His mouth sought hers. “I love you, Shanna, love, beyond all else.”



Shanna came awake with a start and then lay still, wondering what had intruded into her sleep to shatter it so completely. The clock on the mantel delicately chimed the third hour as she listened. She felt Ruark’s naked body snuggled against her back, his arm thrown across the cover over her hip. Then she realized that he, too, lay tense and rigid, his breathing subdued. She rolled her head on the pillow and in the dim glow from the fire could see that he was propped on an elbow, staring across the dark room toward the door. Then Shanna heard it, the rattle of the doorknob as it was twisted and slowly eased back in place; the locked portal gave no entry. Her eyes turned questioningly to her husband.

Ruark placed a finger across his lips, signaling her to silence. Slipping carefully from the bed, he reached for his breeches and pulled them on. With a quick, noiseless stride he crossed the room as Shanna snatched her gown over her head. If he was going to confront anyone beyond that door, she was not going to be caught naked.

Very gently Ruark turned the key until a soft click freed the bar from the jamb. Then with a swift movement that made Shanna start, he stepped back and flung the portal wide.

No one was there. Nor in the passageway outside her chamber. The hall was dark with deep shadows and, though Ruark wandered noiselessly along it, peering into the shadows, he could find no one. Frowning, he returned to the bedchamber and closed the door, locking it again.

“Who could it have been?” Shanna whispered as he sat beside her on the bed.

“I’m beginning to have my suspicions,” Ruark replied. After a few moments he rose and shucked his breeches, climbing beneath the covers again.

“You’re cold,” Shanna shivered, snuggling to him.

Abruptly Ruark sat up, leaving Shanna staring at him in surprise.

“What the hell is that?” He canted his head to listen better. In the silence of the room the faint but angry whinny of a horse could be heard.

“Attila,” Shanna whispered, sitting up beside Ruark. “Something is disturbing him.”

Ruark threw back the covers and snatched up his breeches again, jerking them on. “I’ll see.” He tugged his shirt over his head and spoke through it. “Lock the door behind me. If anyone tries to get in, scream. Someone should hear you.”

Shanna was suddenly fearful. It seemed too much of a coincidence to be awakened from a sound slumber and then to hear Attila. Had they been asleep they wouldn’t have heard him at all with the windows closed and the stable a goodly distance from the house.

“Ruark, don’t go,” she pleaded. “I don’t know what, but I sense something wrong here.”

“I’ll be careful.” He kissed her lips quickly. “Keep my side warm. I’ll be cold when I come back.”

Shanna frowned with worry and followed him to the door. “Please be careful.”

The portal was locked behind him, and Shanna began to pace the room uneasily, chewing on a long fingernail. Only the red glow of embers gave her light, and with the chill of the room she shivered in her nightgown. Kneeling before the fireplace, she stirred the hot coals until a tiny flame appeared and then placed upon it two heavy chunks of oak from the woodbox. Afterwards she could not have said how long she sat watching the fire blaze up again and enjoying its warmth. But cold dread was brought sharply to her heart as a scream pierced the night, and she heard Charlotte shriek from a bedroom down the hall.

“The stable! The stable is burning! Nathanial, wake up. The stable’s on fire!”

Shanna came to her feet with a cry. A brief, fearful glance to the window showed her a light flickering on the drapes.