Kathleen E. Woodiwiss(77)
Shanna chewed her lip, fighting to stem the flow of words that threatened. It was rare she remained mute beneath a rebuke, for she could well wield a tongue lashing whenever she chose to anyone, the only exception being her father.
“If he hasn’t done the deed already, ‘twill only be a matter o’ time before he gets ye with his babe. Will ye stop this foolishness afore ‘tis too late? If ye canna help yerself, then I’ll go for ye and ask him to leave ye be. Though I doubt that he will, stricken that he is with ye, him risking his life and not carin’. Nay, ‘tis best ye stop it now. He’ll be the one to suffer the most should yer pa find out.”
Hergus pressed the heels of both hands to her temples and laying her head back, moaned to the heavens.
“Ah, the shame of it all! And ye so newly widowed. Yer own poor husband barely cold in the ground, an‘ ye’ve taken to foolin’ with a common bondsman! Oh, the shame of it.”
“ ‘Tis done with!” Shanna cried and flung out her hand sharply. Was there no peace from this woman? “I won’t be seeing him anymore.”
Hergus contemplated her mistress narrowly. “Ye say that, but do ye mean it?”
Shanna nodded her head passionately. “Aye, ‘tis the truth. I won’t lie with him again. ’Tis done with.”
Hergus straightened, satisfied. “ ‘Tis best for the both of ye. Ye’ll find a man yer pa will let ye marry and have his wee ones. Ye’ll forget about Mister Ruark.”
Shanna stared after the woman long after the door had closed behind her, wondering if this thing with Ruark were truly done with. Aye, that fire-breathing Ruark, so confident in his own abilities. He had known the secrets of her woman’s body better than she. How many unsuspecting maidens had he bedded to make him so knowledgeable? The vulgar cad! Was this the sugar she was meant to nibble from his hand? Did he think she would fly to nuzzle him gently when he whistled?
Her mind rebelled. She was not some dumb beast to hold herself at any man’s beck and call.
“Does he think to have some handy hold upon me,” she hissed to herself, “that I will come begging his favors like one of those simple doxies he found so willing in bawdy inns?” Suddenly she thought of Milly, who drooled with mouth agape, seeking any tiny tidbit of his attention. How many other wenches of the island had he entrapped?
“Aye, bronze dragon, if you think to lead me on a leash, you’ll see the set of my own fangs upon your scaly hide.” Her eyes narrowed with venomous thought. “Come hither, my dragon Ruark, and I will show you what entrapments the thorny rose can twine. I will have you groveling at my feet before this night is out, begging some morsel of my kindness.”
Her determination set, her goal in mind, Shanna readjusted the neckline of her gown again and dabbed a touch of fragrance in the deep hollow between her breasts and behind each earlobe.
“Perhaps I will let him touch me,” she mused shrewishly, and, at the thought, a hot, searing excitement shot through her breasts. “Aye, I will wander on the porch alone and knowing the lusty wretch, he will join me on some flimsy excuse.” She savored the imagined scene, and a slow smile curved her lips while her eyes sparkled like those of an impish elf. “I shall appear willing—for a time, then grow annoyed and reject him. Then he’ll plead for some kinder consideration.”
But first, she would shame him to the core for his savage garb before the officers of the Spanish frigate that was in port so he would never wear those disgraceful breeches again without remembering the shame he had to bear. Cloddish colonial. She would teach him a stern lesson on the simple grace of the genteel!
At her father’s breakfast table, he had comported himself well enough, but this would be the first time he would attend a dinner, a formal occasion. Ahhh, no doubt the young ladies would find him attractive. There would be women enough to admire him, for most of the ship captains of Los Camellos had sailed, and their wives and older daughters would be attending. But the matrons were generally older than he and their daughters somewhat giggly. But then, there was no accounting for tastes, and he had gone after that wench at the inn quickly enough. He might enjoy another virginal conquest or two.
Shanna passed through the formal dining room, gazing over the table arrangements. The room was aglow with the dazzling, dancing lights of myriad candles, setting asparkle the crystal prisms in the chandeliers, as well as the goblets and china on the long table beneath them. Bouquets of flowers gave off a delicate fragrance that seemed to be magnified in the soft breezes lightly laden with the promised scent of rain sweeping in through the open windows. It had long been the squire’s custom to treat the people of his island, when they dined at the manor, with all the decorum of lordly peers. Sometimes it was just overseers and their wives, but they would have a feast set before them worthy of royalty. Tonight there would be an assorted group; though Ruark was to be the only bondsman in attendance, a few of the senior overseers had been invited. When dining at the Trahern table, one never knew just who their seating companions might be, and it could just as easily be a slave as a duke.