In a calmer moment Ruark drew away and leaned back against the massive headboard, fluffing his pillow behind him and drawing Shanna up beside him. He poured a glass of Madeira from the bottle on the bedside commode and handed the goblet to her.
“We’ll share a glass,” he breathed, kissing her throat.
Shanna placed a hand on his chest to stop her reeling world and answered him as his lips found hers and played upon them, his tongue lightly caressing them, his teeth gently tugging.
They sampled the wine as lovers, sipping from the same spot on the rim and then kissing as the taste lingered in their mouths. His eyes devoured her, drinking in her beauty, touching her everywhere. His hand wandered upon her boldly, stroking her thighs, drawing intricate patterns on her stomach. Her ripe breasts, pink-tipped and tantalizing, trembled beneath his soft caress.
Shanna’s regard of him was just as inquiring. Her finger followed across his belly where light skin was separated by dark. Ruark held his breath as she traced the thin line of hair that trickled downward from the light furring on his chest, and again the coals of passion were fanned and flamed.
For a time they slumbered, and for both it was a natural untroubled sleep. Shanna had no dreams of what she might have missed, and Ruark had no nightmares of what he was sure he had missed. Feeling the manly warmth beside her, Shanna roused from the depths of sleep and rolled her head to gaze at Ruark. He lay on his back, one arm across his waist with the other thrown wide, his chest rising and falling with his slow and even breath. She could not resist the temptation and, reaching out, ran her hand through the light hair on his chest. With something akin to wonder, she felt along the lean ribs and was more than mildly amazed at the hardness of the muscles at his waist. Then a finger touched her chin and raised it until she looked full into those soft amber eyes. They were not smiling now; they were intense to such a degree that she was almost startled. She was surprised at her own abandon, for she came to him again, pressing to him, answering his every passion with her own. She sighed as his lips found her breasts and held his head to her, moving so her bosom caressed him softly, stirring him until his lips parted in the agony of it. His hands were beneath her hips, lifting her to him, and again they tasted the full joy of their mutual union.
Much later Shanna lay on his chest, her cheek resting against his neck. The windows of the room opened on the east, and there they both could see the first rosy glow of the predawn light. With a sigh of reluctance, Shanna rose. Ruark watched silently as she slipped into her gown and pulled her robe over it, tucking her feet in a pair of slippers. In the doorway, she leaned against the sill and looked back at him.
“The bargain is fulfilled, then.” Her voice was so low Ruark barely heard it.
Quickly Shanna turned and fled. Ruark swung his long legs over the edge of the bed and sat listening to the sound of her footsteps hurrying through the house, then fading as they went onto the porch. His voice, too, softly broke the quiet.
“Aye, Shanna, my love, the bargain is fulfilled. But what, then, of the vows we exchanged?”
Shanna was again her bright and cheerful self, though in the night past the amount of sleep she had gotten had been meager indeed. It was as if a great burden had been lifted from her, and truly she conceded the fulfillment of the bargain and the restoration of her honor had accomplished wonders. Ruark could demand no more of her, no matter how twisted his reasoning. The affair was past. Done! She was free. It had been a delightful interlude, but now it was over. She could set her mind to more important matters.
In the press of the day, Ruark faded from her memory. She was gay, lighthearted, and efficient. In the afternoon, her father sat as judge for some of the squabbles that arose among his people. Shanna was at his elbow, recording and advising. Then there was a tour of the warehouses, and the reports of the various managers were duly noted. The harvest had been rich, and huge kegs of black rum and the lighter tans and whites were stacked high, ready for shipment. Bales of raw hemp brought in from other islands filled several storehouses. There were kegs of indigo, valuable for the rich blue dye it offered, and a wide assortment of tobaccos, native cotton, flax, and other raw material which England needed for its factories.
Shanna and her father had a late, quiet supper together, and she retired, a much-eased conscience bringing her quickly to restful sleep. The next day passed much the same, and her night of surrender was all but forgotten in the rush.
The fifth day dawned as the rest, but became cloudy with fleeting mists and fitful breezes. Shanna and her father, riding in the barouche, ranged high in the hills checking sites. Abruptly Trahern decided to swing by the site of the new cane mill to see the progress there.
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 numbe
rs 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.
“Aye,” her father snorted. “But no need to trouble yourself, daughter. He’s gone. In fact,” Orlan wiped his lips on a large napkin, dusted his lap, rose, and took his cane and hat from the hands of Milan, “his shall be the first business of the day. I have given him another increase in pay, and as I deem that I need him closer at hand, I gave him the choice of cottages.” Trahern chuckled lightly. “He took the best, the far one under the trees.”
Trahern regarded her for a moment, and his voice was only slightly more firm when he continued. “As mistress of my household you will, of course, see that it is presentable.”
Shanna could only stare at him, half afraid as he spoke, trying to find some hidden meaning in his words. Seeing none, she nodded and conceded, “I shall send the servants there.”
Her father fixed his hat with some show of irritation. “I will expect no further slight of the man. Your dislike of him is apparent, but he is extremely valuable to me, and I hope to persuade him to stay on with us after his debt is paid. I should be home for an early meal this evening.”
Trahern paused in the doorway and looked back at her, almost smiling as if to soften his words. “Good day, daughter.”
For a long while Shanna sat staring after her father, but in her mind she saw only Ruark’s lean, tanned form stretched upon the bed.
He’ll be there in the bed we shared! He’ll use the bath again! A full rush of visions filled her mind with one brighter than any, that of the tall canopy towering above them as the full measure of pleasure burst within her.
Had Milan turned then from his preparation of her breakfast, he would have seen her face flushed, her eyes distant and dreaming.
The cottage was readied, and Ruark moved his spartan belongings into it that very same night. He made use of the brass tub and enjoyed a steaming bath, lingering in it as illusions of Shanna in a gossamer veil of white swam about him—Shanna bending to whisper in his ear, standing childlike beside the bed, then naked and writhing in splendorous ecstasy beneath him.
Donning again his brief breeches, Ruark restlessly prowled the rooms, poking in empty chests and armoires, leafing through books, seeking some diversion to settle his mind. He failed abjectly, for there was naught he could put his thoughts to that fascinated him more than Shanna.
Dawn broke clear and bright. Rays of light invaded her bedchamber, waking Shanna from her fitful slumber. As it was her custom to rise at a later hour, Hergus was not in attendance, and pensively Shanna stroked her own tousled curls into some semblance of order. She could not name her mood, but she paused often in her task, the brush threaded through a soft tress while she stared unseeing into the mirror. A wistful sigh escaped her as she donned a dressing gown, belting it loosely about her narrow waist. When she left her chambers, she had no destination in mind and made her way slowly down the curving stairway, pondering the undulating motion of her robe as the opening parted and closed about her long, naked limbs. She had descended halfway when she heard men’s voices in the entrance hall and recognized Ruark’s deep chuckle in reply to the doorman’s jovial greeting. Shanna paused. Her eyes lost their distant look, and attentive now to the world about her, she listened to the rich, confident timbre of Ruark’s voice and the precise clip of Jason’s articulate speech.
“The squire will be down directly, Mister Ruark. Will you have a chair in the dining room and rest yourself while you wait?”
“Thank you, Jason, but I’ll wait here in the hall. I’m early, anyway.”
“Master Trahern would want you to make yourself at home, Mister Ruark. He shouldn’t be but a moment or two. There is hardly a body who will get up earlier than the squire. He has worked hard all his life and does not appear to be in favor of slowing any. I will be in back, Mister Ruark. Call if you should want me.”
Shanna listened to the sound of Jason’s retreating footsteps then leaned against the balustrade, peering down toward the hall. Garbed in his usual attire of white shirt and short pants, Ruark stood before the portrait of Georgiana, staring up at it, and Shanna wondered at his thoughts. There had been much similarity between daughter and mother, though Georgiana’s hair had been paler and her eyes a soft, smiling gray. Did Ruark see her there within the oil-painted image of her mother, Shanna wondered, or was he just admiring, like so many others before him.
If she made a sound, Shanna was not aware of it, but in the narrow space of time she watched, something passed between them, and Ruark turned, glancing up toward the stairs as if he knew she would be there. Shanna was caught and could not flee in dignity. She waited as he crossed with measured stride to the first step, there resting a sandaled foot on it while he gazed at her, his eyes touching her everywhere. The pale aqua robe flowed in fluid lines about her body, molding itself against her as if reluctant to be parted, showing the womanly roundness of her breasts and the graceful curve of her hips, while openly displaying a long, sleek limb. She looked cool and serene, like a high priestess descending the temple steps.
“Good morning,” Ruark murmured, and his voice was like a gentle caress.
“Good day, sir.” Her own tone was bright and cheerful, almost laughing. “Will you stay for breakfast?”
“Will you be coming down?” His brow arched questioningly, but it seemed more a plea than inquiry he made.
Shanna glanced down at her attire and indicated it as she replied. “Papa wouldn’t approve, not with you here.”
“Then change,” Ruark urged. “But come. Will you?”
Shanna gave silent assent, and a smile slowly spread across Ruark’s face, showing his even, white teeth. He looked rakishly toward the dressing gown, and her breath held while his eyes boldly appraised her.
“Heedless of your father’s opinion, madam, I do approve most heartily. I’ll be waiting.”
Abruptly, without giving her time to reply, he turned and went back to where he had stood before. A moment later her father’s voice rang from somewhere in the bowels of the mansion, and Shanna hastily ascended the stairs again.
Once more in her bedchamber, Shanna hurriedly searched through the armoire for a suitable gown. Happily she snatched a garment out, frowned in displeasure at its wilted folds, and tossed it carelessly on the carpet, completely forgetting her usual neatness. A short time later Hergus entered to find her beneath a billowing skirt as it floated down around her, heaps of discarded gowns at her feet. Shanna thrust her arms through the fluffy sleeves, settled the endless yards of delicate yellow lawn over the hooped panniers, and then urged Hergus to lace her tightly and quickly. The long, gold-veined hair was pulled from her face and left to fall down her back beneath trails of yellow ribbon.
Shanna entered the dinning room like a fresh sp
ring breeze sweeping in through the open door. Ruark quickly came to his feet in appreciation of her dazzling beauty and smiled into her radiantly glowing face. Trahern’s greeting was more abrupt. He had spent his lifetime toiling for substance and wealth, missing the lightheartedness of youth. He had not known a frivolous moment, and he saw a purpose or an advantage in everything. This caused him some difficulty in understanding his daughter. In his mind, she had no apparent goals for her life, appearing content to be without a husband and, therefore, childless. Indeed, she seemed to find more pleasure riding like the wind upon Attila’s back or bobbing effortlessly on a swelling wave.
“I’m about business, daughter. Give me none of your airs. Sit yourself down.”
Ruark hastened to assist her with her chair, pulling it out and holding it while she slipped into it. Shanna smiled her gratitude, and when Ruark resumed his place, Trahern muttered grumpily, “Bah! Young men! Heads turned at a moment’s notice! Any pretty filly!”
Ruark arched a brow at him and remarked, “Sir, if she were any but your own daughter, I do not doubt your head would also be turned.”
Shanna replied sweetly. “You flatter me overmuch, Mister Ruark.” She cast her eyes toward her father and raised her lovely nose in the air as if sorely injured. “ ‘Tis rare indeed I hear words of praise spoken of me here.”
“Hah!” Trahern barked. “Should I add coals to that fire, the whole island would be ablaze. Now, with your permission, daughter, may we progress with business?”
“Why, of course, papa.” The comers of Shanna’s lips lifted upward deliciously as the blue-green eyes twinkled with mischief. “Heaven forbid that I should interfere with business.”
“Damn, if you haven’t done just that!” Trahern scolded.
Ruark hid a smile behind his cup of tea and after a moment managed to present a serious face to the man. “Your question again, sir? I fear I have lost the thought.”
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