Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(263)

“My son.” Amelia’s voice was sharp and tight as she took her husband’s arm. “This has all been a terrible mistake. I am certain Ruark is not guilty of that hideous thing. And we intend to lead our full efforts to proving it.”

“Of course, madam,” Major Carter returned gently. “You may rest assured that a full investigation will be conducted into this matter. We have much to look into here.” He peered at George. “Sir, it has been a long ride from Williamsburg, and I believe it nearly tea time. I see you have some brewing. I wonder if I might beg a cup.”

“My hospitality has slipped,” George responded. “Would you prefer something stronger? I have some excellent brandy.”

“Sir, you are overkind to a poor servant of the crown.” The major grinned as a snifter was pressed into his hand and closed his eyes almost in ecstasy as he rolled the first sip over his tongue. “ ‘Tis a boon to the weary.” He took another sip and enjoyed it no less than the first.

“Good heavens!” the major suddenly exclaimed. “I’ll be forgetting my boots next.” He fumbled in the inner pocket of his coat before drawing forth a packet of envelopes. “Is a Captain Nathanial Beauchamp present?”

Nathanial came forward and identified himself.

“They seek to make the best use of an officer’s time these days,” the major said ruefully. “These be dispatches from London bound to you through the postmaster at Williamsburg and myself. At least one of them bears the royal seal.”

Taking the letters, Nathanial withdrew to the window where the light was better.

Shanna came to Ruark and slipped her arm through his, hugging it close. Having witnessed her graceful movement across the room, Major Carter stared at them somewhat uncertainly. He had taken note of the beauty soon after his entry and heaved a sigh of disappointment as Ruark gave the introduction.

“My wife, sir. Shanna Beauchamp.”

The major bowed before her. “You are most beautiful, madam! A light in the wilderness as it be. I am indeed pleasured.” He straightened and regarded her carefully. “The name? Shanna? Would you perhaps be—or rather were you—Mistress Shanna Trahern?”

“Aye,” Shanna replied graciously. “And this is my father, Orlan Trahern.” She swept her hand to the seated one.

“Lord Trahern!” The major was obviously impressed and hurried to Trahern’s side. “I have heard much about you, sir.”

“Humph!” Trahern refused the extended hand. “Mostly bad I’d wager, but my temper will be greatly improved when this foolishness about young Ruark is done with. You may inform your superiors, major, that my influence and moneys will also be lent to his cause.”

The officer was ill at ease. If there were two names and two fortunes that could more upset the peace of the crown, he was not aware of them.

Nathanial left off his reading by the window and rejoined them. “I believe no moneys need by expended today.” He extended an official-looking document, replete with seals, toward the major. “This is to be delivered to the nearest officer of the crown, sir. Will you accept it?”

Heaving a reluctant sigh, the major took the letter from Nathanial’s hand. He began to read, his lips moving with his eyes. He glanced at Ruark, set down his glass, and read further. He began to speak the words aloud.

“… Thus in view of new evidences and in light of a petition made by the Marquess de Beauchamp, all proceedings in the case of Ruark Deverell Beauchamp are herein set aside until such time as further investigation has determined the facts in this matter.”

Major Carter lowered the paper and spoke to the room at large. “It bears the seals of both the Marquess and the Court of Peers.” He looked to Ruark and Shanna, a much-relieved smile spreading slowly across his face. “It seems that you are free, Mister Beauchamp.”

With a happy cry, Shanna flung her arms about Ruark’s neck and nearly strangled him in her excitement. Relieved sighs were released about the room.

“Do you mean to say”—Ralston’s strident voice cut through the immediate gaiety, and everyone turned as a body to stare at him—“that an escaped murderer can be set free by a”—he stalked forward and flicked the corner of the document before the major could move it beyond his reach—“by a piece of paper? ‘Tis injustice, I say! A gross miscarriage!”

The major drew himself to his full height. “This letter explains it all, sir. The woman had a husband and was seeing other men besides. There had been complaints before from men she had robbed. They claimed that after visiting her, none could remember anything but waking up to find themselves dumped a goodly distance from the inn. Further, several gentlemen in Scotland acknowledged Mister Beauchamp’s arrival from the colonies. He could not have fathered her babe as she was well along, and they now suspect the husband of killing her in a jealous rage.”