Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(73)

A strange sound trembled the air as they neared the spot. A heavy thud came every minute or so, and as they rounded the last bend they saw the source. The smoothed trunks of trees were being driven into the ground by a huge rock raised on pulleys by a span of mules then released to fall on the butts, driving the piles deep.

The carriage halted and Trahern stared, somewhat awestruck. The mechanics of the rig were simple enough. It had only needed a good mind to make it work. Shanna could have named the man before the foreman came to meet them, bringing him along. Ruark approached the barouche on her father’s side and at the squire’s inquiries began to explain how the piles would bear the weight of huge rollers when the mill was done and how the rollers would be geared to crush the juice from the harvested cane.

“ ‘Tis only that the smithy is a bit pressed to make the ironware like Mister Ruark told him, squire.” The overseer waved his hat toward the works. “If the man’s on time, we’ll have her ready when the new batch comes in.”

Trahern was listening to the taskmaster enlarge upon the explanations when Shanna raised her eyes and found herself staring into those amber ones of Ruark. A slow smile spread across his lips, and it bore a strange note of confident knowledge yet with no threat, no smirk, no leer. Just a simple smile that somehow disturbed her more than it should have. She nodded the briefest of greetings and turned away from him in what she hoped was a pointed rejection. Her father asked a question, but Ruark’s answer was lost to her as her mind retreated from this contact.

A few moments later they resumed the ride back to the village, then to the manor house. The incident was submerged in detail, and she was again carefree by the time dinner was served. Pitney joined them, and afterwards he and the squire engaged in a game of chess.

Feeling a good sense of accomplishment for the day, Shanna retired to her chambers and found restful slumber quickly. It was past the hour of midnight when she came fully awake in an instant and lay staring blankly in the dark of her room. A steady drizzle pattered on the leaves outside, and the clouds were low and heavy, giving an unnatural blackness to the night. Then she realized what had awakened her. She had known the heat of a body close beside her, warm lips parting hers and arms holding her tightly. There had been the touch of a hand on her breasts and a gentle caress along her thighs and, the thrust of a man, hard and hot, between them.

Her confusion came from the haunting sense of pleasure which now ebbed from her body. What spell had Ruark cast upon her that she should desire again that joining with him? She was alone in the room, but was just as sure that had he been there she would have yielded, nay, clung to him and demanded he give again that for which she yearned. She had never felt so fully a woman as when she played his wife. Even now, as she lay on her bed in the dark room, she was amazed that no guilt or shame rose to condemn her for that night or for this one in which she longed for him to come to her. Allowed to age and ferment in the flask of her woman’s body, the heady memory of his lovemaking was now all the more intoxicating. She could not shake the exhilarating illusions and grew dizzy with the remembrance of what they had shared.

“He is but a man,” she whispered in the dark. “He has no special gift beyond other men. I’ll find a husband, and we’ll share the same.”

Faceless numbers of suitors Shanna had cast away in disgust loomed upward before her consideration. They could strike no spark of fire in her blood, yet when in the midst of those forgotten ones Ruark’s tanned visage appeared, her heart thumped with a sweet wildness that stirred her very soul.

“Why must that colonial be the one I should rouse to?” she hissed to the ebony shadows. She was angry with herself for letting him come into her mind again. “Nay, I will deny him! The bargain is done! There will be nothing more between us!”

As much as she forced all her determination behind her vow, it had an empty ring, and the weakness of it echoed though her brain. When sleep came again, it was not the peaceful slumber she had enjoyed before.



Late the next morning, Shanna joined her father in the dining room, and she saw by the remains of dirty dishes that two others had been with him for breakfast. Trahern greeted her and seemed in a hurry to finish his own meal.

“You need not come with me today, Shanna,” he informed her as he sipped thick, black coffee.

Shanna said nothing but glanced around the table. She felt an odd presence in the room, and then she noted a small porcelain dish beside one of the plates whereon lay a black ash as from a pipe.

“Mister Ruark was here again,” she stated bluntly, sure of the fact.