Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(256)
“ ‘Tis a fine lot you are,” she chuckled.
George examined his broken eyeglasses with a rueful smile. “Aye, warriors from the field.” He heaved a sigh and matched her smile. “Now I can have the stable on the oak hill where I’ve always wanted it.”
“Good fortune, then,” Amelia returned gently. “Except, of course, for the squire’s foot, Mister Ruark’s head, and your spectacles. Whatever happened?”
“Your youngest son, madam, mistook me for thin air. In the fray he tried to run right through me.”
His dry humor brought responsive laughter from the tired men and a much reddened hue to Jeremiah’s face.
“Mister Ruark,” Amelia said over her shoulder as she left the room. “You may use Nathanial’s old room. ‘Tis next to Shanna’s. I think you can find it.” She gave the smallest of laughs. “That poor old tree is stunted enough being so close to the kitchen.”
A bustle of activity pervaded throughout the house as the servants rushed to prepare baths for the Beauchamps and their guests. Ralston’s bed had not been slept in, and he was nowhere to be found. Gaylord snoozed peacefully, his snores echoing loudly from his chambers.
It was a late hour when the rest of the household took their morning meal. Orlan hobbled into the dining room on a bandaged foot. Despite Shanna’s pleas Ruark had refused a bandage for his head and quietly took a place beside her at the table. No one questioned his right to sit there, and in the absence of both Gaylord and Ralston the dining was a warm and hearty affair. As the tale was retold, Shanna was amazed at how quick the Beauchamps were to laugh at themselves, as if the loss had not affected them in any manner. With rich enthusiasm they began to plan the new stable, and the ease with which Ruark offered his advice almost made Shanna wonder.
Gaylord appeared, and his bland, bluish-gray eyes surveyed the group around the table before he consulted his watch in some bemusement. “Hmm,” he minced genteelly, tucking the timepiece away. “Is it some local holiday I have missed?”
“You slept the whole night through?” Shanna asked, her own amazement showing.
“Of course,” he sighed. “I read from a volume of sonnets until a late hour, but from then on—” He paused and scratched his cheek thoughtfully with an immaculate forefinger. “It seems there was some disturbance, but after a while the house quieted, and I much assumed I had dreamt the whole of it.”
He seated himself in a chair and began to fill a plate. For a man of much leisure, his appetite never seemed to flag.
“Why do you ask?” he questioned. “Is aught amiss?”
“You rest exceedingly soundly, sir,” Ruark observed, only mildly satirical.
“Mm, yes,” Gaylord smiled as he spooned a liberal serving of fruit perserves on a slice of hot bread. “A trait of the breeding, I assure you. An honest mind is a peaceful one.”
He fixed Ruark with a jaundiced stare, taking note of his proximity to Shanna.
“I believe you have forgotten yourself again, bondsman. No doubt these good people are too polite to remind you of your place.”
Ruark snorted derisively. “But you will, of course.”
Beneath the table Shanna’s hand lightly squeezed her husband’s thigh, cautioning him to be careful. It was best to avoid any confrontation with the man that might somehow bring Lord Harry’s notice to Ruark. Soon Gaylord would be gone, and the truth could be revealed to her father. Then, perhaps, they could set about clearing Ruark’s name. Ruark’s thin, brown fingers slipped over Shanna’s beneath the tablecloth, tightening briefly to quietly assure her, and remained to hold them.
George had lowered his teacup and now spoke firmly. “Mister Ruark is welcome at my table, sir.”
Gaylord shrugged. “ ‘Tis your home, of course.”
They were leaving the table when the knight asked of his host, “I say, would you have a servant fetch a gentle steed for me from the stables? I’ve a yen to see this country you boast of so much, to try, if possible, to find some merit in it.”
Casting him a dubious glance, Ruark inquired with a hint of sarcasm. “Can you find your way alone, or do you need a guide?”
Pitney hid a smile of amusement as the knight glared his contempt at the bondsman.
“Whatever, I shall not need you to fetch me,” Gaylord sneered.
“The stable burned to the ground this morning,” Amelia interrupted the two men, eyeing each and appearing somewhat worried.
Gaylord’s eyebrows lifted. “The stable, you say? And the horses as well?”
Pitney rasped gruffly. “We saved them all. As it appears, someone set the fire off after locking Mister Ruark inside. But of course ye were asleep and wouldn’t be knowing ‘bout that.”