Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(261)

“Oh, yes, indeed. Here.” Garland beamed with pride and placed her daughter into the waiting arms. Almost fearfully Shanna accepted the bundle which was light as a feather and soft as thistledown. The cherubic face looked up with curious wonder at this stranger’s visage, and Shanna, who had never even been close to a small baby before, was just as awed. Ruark’s arms came around Shanna as he silently admired his niece.

“She’s so tiny,” Shanna said in amazement.

“Oh, but they all are at the beginning.” Garland assured her. “You’ll see.”

Orlan Trahern sat back with a smug smile of satisfaction. There were many things that had to be explained yet, but he was confident that that would come in all due time. What mattered most was that his daughter had far exceeded his expectations in finding herself a husband and, to top it all, had gotten herself with babe. He was a happy man, and even the pain in his foot could little dim his joy.

So it occurred that in the aftermath of disaster, a great happiness was found. Ruark had taken his bride on his arm and presented her to the world, daring any to dispute his claim or to disparage her in any way, though none present would have. They were an impressive pair, he as handsome and proud as a man could be, and she as beautiful, loving and content as a woman ever. Both sides of the parentage looked upon the couple and had no doubts that this was a fine mating.

It was a joyous time for everyone. Even the maid, Hergus, suffering for so long under the weight of her secret, smiled from the doorway as she watched Shanna and witnessed her joy. Pitney, too, was proud of his sometimes questionable role in the marriage. Still, he knew a nagging uncertainty, for not all the questions had been answered and many remained to be asked. All too soon, his unease was extended to the others.

Ralston returned, and almost immediately an oppressive air settled over the formerly happy group. The thin man handed his long cloak to the doorman and came into the drawing room. With a puzzled frown on his face, his eyes roved over the normal-appearing assemblage as if he searched for some clue and then settled on Trahern with his singed hair and bandaged foot.

“I—” He began hesitantly, staring at the squire’s foot. “I would have taken my mount to the stable, but I could see no trace of the place from the road.”

Trahern gave a low chuckle. “To find the stable, one must look low on the ground.” As Ralston gave only blank wonder to his statement, he explained. “It went up in smoke early this morning, and only ashes remain.” Orlan paused and considered his agent for a long moment “Now that I think on it, I saw no sign of you. Where have you been?”

“Your pardon, squire,” Ralston hastened to reply. “I had news of an acquaintance who lives in Mill Place, and I took myself hence to seek him out. But you say the stable burned?”

“Aye,” Pitney answered gruffly. “ ‘Twould appear you missed the whole of it.” He let his statement hang so it was almost a question.

Ralston shrugged. “By the time I found my man, it was too late to come back, and he pressed me to stay the night. I did not think it to be unusual. Did you have need of me, squire?”

Trahern waved away the man’s apprehensive inquiry. “No harm done. I did not know you had friends among the colonials, ‘tis all.”

Ralston sniffed. “A friend of the family, nothing more. A reckless chap, given to unwise speculations. Hardly one to appreciate the finer points of good English manners.”

Ruark’s brows lifted dubiously. He could well imagine the gaiety of an evening with Ralston.

“You seem to have misplaced your riding crop, Mister Ralston,” Pitney commented casually.

“Misplaced! Huh!” Ralston sneered a trifle angrily. “I put it down while my mount was being saddled yesterday, and, when I was ready to leave, I could find neither hide nor hair of it. I had no time to question the stableboy as I was in a hurry, but rest assured I shall see that he returns it or suffers for his thievery.”

George Beauchamp’s brows drew together at the suggestion that his man was responsible, but Amelia rested her hand on his arm and caught his attention with a small, almost imperceptible, shake of her head.

Trahern diverted Ralston away from further accusations. “Enough! There has been too much ado about the fire and that mangy Hun who has the gait of a plow horse and as little care whereon he plants his hoof.” He prodded his bandaged foot with the butt end of his staff and winced. “Should I ever touch that mule again ‘twill be with the heavy end of my cane.”

“Come now, papa,” Shanna chided in defense of Attila. “ ‘Tis well said that he who would contredanse with a horse must be exceptionally light of foot.”