Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(76)
Shanna shrank inwardly. That would be all she needed, for Ruark to be made her advisor, and should he ever be given the right of approval of her suitors, she would most certainly see out her days as a wasted widow.
She sighed mentally, but the sound slipped out.
“You seem distraught at my suggestion, daughter. Why do you dislike the man so much?”
“Papa,” Shanna laid a hand on his and gave him a quick, rueful smile, “I only seek to be the mistress of my own fate. I have no intention of going in bondage to that one.”
Trahern opened his mouth to enforce his mandate, but she leaned forward and gently placed a finger on his lips. Her eyes smiled into his angry ones, and beneath that steady gaze, the elder Trahern softened. Shanna spoke in not much more than a whisper.
“Papa, I will not argue with you, nor will I ever speak on it again.”
She placed a fleeting kiss upon his forehead and with a quick flurry of silk was gone. Trahern sat in his chair, his lips working as he wondered in amazement how it had become possible for him to lose an argument and yet enjoy it.
Chapter 9
THE WIND CHURNED UP the promise of a storm in small, confused whitecaps as the sun settled on the surface of the water and darkness invaded the day. Night descended with its cloak of black, and cooling breezes settled upon the island, stirring the delicate scents from the flowering vine at Shanna’s balcony. She gave herself a last, critical appraisal of her mirrored image, frowning slightly at the thought of having to appear witty and charming for their dinner guests when her mind was in such a turmoil. Everything displeased her, and even the flawlessness of her own beauty, regally gowned in rich ivory satin and costly lace, did not change her mood of discontent. Dispassionately she stared into the looking glass while Hergus affectionately smoothed the elaborately coiled tresses twined with ropes of pearls. Shanna gave a slight adjustment to the square décolletage edged with the same lustrous pearls. The gown was cut deep across her full, swelling curves until it seemed that only some strange sorcery held it from revealing the soft pink crests of her bosom.
“You look grand,” Hergus beamed.
Shanna’s was that rare beauty which was almost never at a loss. Even early in the morning, with her hair tousled and her eyes blurred with sleep, she wore a sensuality that would have stirred a husband’s heart to burgeoning pride if not open lust.
The Scotswoman grunted disapprovingly. “Mister Ruark’ll be hard pressed to keep his eyes off ye, and there yer pa will be, betwix ye. Aye, ye’ll warm the man’s blood a mite.” Hergus gave a rather forlorn sigh. “But that, I suppose, is yer aim, choosing that gown when ye know he’s to be about.”
“Oh, Hergus, don’t preach,” Shanna begged of the woman. “Ladies attend the French salons wearing much less than this. And I’m certainly not wearing the gown to please Mister Ruark!”
“O‘ course! Why should ye?” Hergus needled.
Shanna set her hands on her hips and in exasperation faced the woman. “Out with it, Hergus. You’ve beaten about the bush ever since I bade you fetch Mister Ruark to the cottage. You might as well speak your peace.”
Hergus nodded firmly. “Aye, and that I will. I’ve been with ye since ye were a babe, and I tended ye then though I weren’t any more than a babe meself. I watched ye grow into the loveliest thing a man can imagine. I’ve been with ye through the thick and thin of it. I’ve taken yer side when yer pa would have ye marry a name rather than a man. But I canna understand ye sneaking off like a little trollop, meeting Mister Ruark on the sly. Ye’ve had the best schooling, ye’ve had the best care. We’ve all wished the best for ye, even yer pa, stubborn man that he is. Can ye na see that ye need to marry and have wee ones? Oh, I can understand love. There was me own Jamie when I was a girl, and we pledged our troth, but he was impressed onto one of his majesty’s warships. Me folks died, and I had to find work to feed meself, and I never saw me Jamie again though it be a score of years since. And I can see why ye’re taken with Mister Ruark, handsome he is, and more of a man than any oo‘ dared to court ye. But ’tis wrong what ye’re doing. Ye know it. Give him up ‘fore yer pa finds out and marries ye off to some driveling lord.”
Shanna groaned her frustration and strode across the room. She could not confide in the woman lest her father find out and have them all sent away for the conspiracy. But Hergus’s chastening pricked her.
“I’ll speak no more of Mister Ruark,” she declared over her shoulder.
The maid followed her, determined to talk some sense into the lovely head. “And what if ye’re carrying his wee one? Pray tell what would yer pa say to that? He’ll have yer Mister Ruark gelded, and ye willna have a word to say on the matter. Aye, ye’ll be the mother of his babe, but ye have na thought of that, have ye? Why?” Hergus persisted. “Ye’re hoping ye willna get caught with his seed. Ah lass, ye’re fooling yerself. He’s a bold man. He’ll plant his best in ye, and there ye’ll be plump as any melon and with no husband.”