“With your leave, papa, I shall see to our other guests.”
Both men watched her go, and each was troubled in his own way.
“I cannot fathom this young generation,” Trahern fussed. “I fear they do not have common sense.”
He halted a passing servant and bade the man fetch rum and bitters for both himself and Ruark.
Shanna had placed herself as far as possible away from Ruark and smiled her thanks as Milan brought her a cup of tea. As she sipped it, she mentally regathered her scattered forces. She had lost the first encounter but was far from ready to yield the battle. She espied Madame Duprey with her husband, animatedly chatting with several of the Spanish officers. Aye, Shanna thought, she would launch her campaign here. Let the fool Wyvern know that she was not chattel he could claim exclusively.
Shanna took another sip of her tea then set it aside, spreading her fan before her as she approached the group.
“Dear Fayme,” Shanna smiled. “How lovely you look.” And indeed, Madame Duprey was beautiful. Shanna could not understand Jean’s infatuation with other women when such a rare jewel waited at home for him. Shanna thought Jean looked a trifle nervous, and well he should, the cad.
“Shanna!” Fayme greeted her brightly with that intriguing accent of hers. “And how perfectly wicked you look!”
“Why, thank you,” Shanna laughed and nodded to the Spanish men who were all smiles and teeth and roaming eyes. “Won’t you share the company, Fayme?”
Fayme tossed her head back with careless grace. “Ah, Shanna, we will talk of ze less fortunate. Ho-ho, but you are not one of zem. But seriousment, I was so sorry to hear of your misfortune.” She sighed heavily. “Ah, so soon a widow! But come, let me present you to zese men. Zey do very eager to catch your eye.”
The officers and their captain responded with zealous enthusiasm and long-winded compliments as to the beauty of the women on Los Camellos.
“Shanna,” Fayme spoke in a pause. “Oo‘ eez zat man over zere? Ze ’andsome one oo‘ kiss your hand?”
Shanna knew well the one. “Mister Ruark, my father’s bondsman.”
“Such a man!” Fayme exclaimed, causing her husband’s eyebrows to raise. “And a bondslave you say?”
“Oui, cherie,” Jean broke in. “We brought him back on the December voyage last year. Purchased from the debtor’s block, I believe.”
“But Jean, the clothes! Certainment he eez not still—”
“Oui, ma petite,” the Frenchman responded, annoyed that his wife should find another man fascinating. He could not know the ploy she used to spur his jealousy; she was a loving wife but she had had enough of his meandering. Jean straightened his scarlet coat and testily brushed the cuff. “The bondsman has gained the squire’s favor and some say he’s earned it, though rumors have a way of being wrong. Why, some would even go so far as to claim he eez a man of letters and a skilled engineer. Do not believe everything you hear, ma cherie.”
“Ah, but strange, Shanna,” Fayme mused aloud. “How a man of much talent eez being a bondslave. He eez magnifique!”
Jean Duprey chafed and grew a bit red-faced. Shanna watched him with satisfaction and freely joined the conspiracy. Perhaps he would be a little less free-footed if aware that his wife might also be tempted. For revenge’s sake and because she had been so lenient with the man before, Shanna felt a desire to heighten Jean’s qualms.
“Aye, Fayme,” she whispered behind her fan, just loud enough for Jean to hear. “And I’ve heard it rumored he has a habit of sleeping without any clothes.”
Fayme sucked her breath in through her teeth. “Such a man!”
Jean blustered and cleared his throat. He beckoned a servant near and took a fresh glass of champagne, eyeing his wife carefully as he sipped it. Suddenly he saw her in a new light and realized that the title “wife” had not detracted from her beauty.
“Capitán Morel,” Shanna said, smiling graciously at the tall Spaniard, “Tell me of Spain. It has long been my desire to go there, but, alas, I have found so little time to bring that dream into reality.”
The man, thin and swarthy but not overly handsome, turned his full and appreciative regard upon her. “Señora, I would take you there myself. If you but speak the word, I shall go to prepare my ship. But,” he spoke aside to his young lieutenant, “we must cover every man’s eyes lest the beauty of this princess blind them or distract them from their duties.”
Shanna laughed behind her fan. “You are enchanting, Capitán, but you flatter me overmuch I fear.”