Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(41)

There were few on the island who did not drop whatever they were doing at the sound of the cannon and rush to the dock to greet the new arrival. There would be trinkets to exchange, special favors long awaited and, more importantly, the latest news and gossip from the world at large. Orlan Trahern himself was still much the merchant rather than planter, and it was a dire chore indeed that could stay the squire from mounting to his carriage and coming down to see how fortune favored him. If it was a strange vessel, there would be dickering and bargaining which he welcomed for the challenge and played as if it were a game.

Impatiently Shanna waited as the sails were dropped and the Marguerite coasted to an easy berth at the pier. Several other ships in the harbor were withdrawn from the dock and anchored aside. Through the winter months the larger ones would be careened and repaired, while smaller ones would ply the islands south and west, trading the goods of the Continent for the raw material of the Caribbean.

The gangplank thudded down as the hawses were winched snug. Shanna’s heart nearly soared as high as the sea gulls cavorting overhead, and eagerly her eyes searched the crowd gathering below for the familiar face of her father.

Pitney appeared at her side, two of her lesser trunks tucked beneath his arms, and trailed behind as she descended. As Shanna stepped from the plank, Captain Duprey was there to offer his assistance, having made sure his wife was nowhere in the crowd. His dark eyes begged for some show of warmth in the exquisite oval face, but he was much disappointed, for Shanna hardly noticed him in her haste to be off the ship. As if he were only a servant fit for menial tasks, she thrust a frilly parasol into his hand and glanced anxiously about. Beyond the throng Trahern’s open barouche stood empty. But then the crowd separated as the squire came forward, almost hurrying to meet her. A wide grin parted his lips as he saw her, but he quickly squelched that show of pleasure.

Orlan Trahern was slightly shorter than the men around him, but his shoulders were broad, and his body was square. He moved with a deliberate stride, his weight carried easily, for though he was wide of girth there was a great strength in him. Shanna had seen him best Pitney in an arm wrestle for a mug of ale. When stirred to laughter, his whole frame would shake, though the mirth itself would be muted.

With a glad cry Shanna flew to her father and threw her arms about his stout neck. For a brief moment Trahern’s arms encircled her slim waist, then he thrust her gently away to lean on his long, gnarled walking stick and give her a sober perusal. With a clear, tinkling laugh Shanna raised her wide skirts of pale blue lawn, danced in a slow circle before him, and then faced him again with a low curtsy.

“Your servant, squire.”

“Aye, daughter.” He pursed his lips and contemplated her as if seeing her anew. “ ‘Twould seem you’ve outdone yourself and grown even more beautiful in the year past.”

He half turned, settling onto his head the broad, low-crown hat he affected as his eyes fixed on Captain Duprey.

“And as ever you have men trailing after you to do your favors.”

Jean Duprey shifted the parasol in his bands as if he would have liked to find someplace to throw it but then finally handed it back to Shanna. Making the excuse of seeing to his ship, he rapidly retreated before Squire Trahern’s amused countenance.

“Have you become more tolerant of hardships, girl? I would not have guessed it in you to lower yourself to travel on such a humble vessel. ‘Tis more your wont to enjoy the luxuries of life.”

“Now, papa,” Shanna beamed. “Be kind. I was anxious to be home. Will you deny that you’re happy to see me?”

Orlan Trahern cleared his throat sharply then peered at Pitney who seemed to be having trouble maintaining a sober face. The squire thrust out his hand to the man as the trunks were set to the ground.

“Aye, you’re fit,” Trahern nodded. “No worse the wear for escorting this lass about for a year. ‘Twas oft I questioned my judgment in just sending Ralston to guide you both, but you’re here safe, and I suppose that nothing unduly disastrous has happened.”

Nervously Shanna opened her parasol and, twirling it above her head, managed a brilliant smile for her father.

“Come along, daughter,” he half ordered. “The noon hour is at hand, and we shall share a bite together while you give me news.”

Orlan clapped Pitney upon the back.

“You’ll be wanting to see yourself home I would guess. Cool your ale, and I’ll be along later to best you in a game of chess. Let me get this twit settled properly first.”

The squire led his daughter along without fanfare though the people closed around them to shout greetings to Shanna and thrust out hands in welcome. Word had been passed with the first sight of her, and even now stragglers joined the edge of the crowd. In sheer enjoyment Shanna laughed as old friends and favored ones pressed forward. Women from the village jostled close if only to stare at her gown and coiffure, seeing there the latest of fashions, while children fought to touch a finger to the hem of her skirt. Men were present as well, but those not familiar with Trahern’s daughter were given to hanging back to stare in awe at her fabled beauty. It was slow passage but filled with excitement and the renewal of fond acquaintances.