Shanna

  “Mister Ralston?” Ruark asked gently. “Where did you get that ring?”

  Ralston raised his hand to stare at the ring and answered sharply. “ ‘Twas payment for a debt. What of it?”

  Ruark shrugged and mildly stated. “It has been in my family for several generations. I believe it was stolen from me.”

  “Stolen? Nonsense! I lent a man some money, and he had no means to pay. He gave me this instead.”

  Ruark half faced the major and spoke as much to him as to Ralston and the others. “My mother gave me the ring to present to my wife when I chose one. I wore it on a chain about my neck, and there it was when I went to the wench’s chambers in England. That was the night she was murdered. Whoever took it had to have been in the room that night.”

  Ralston’s jaw sagged as he realized the full implication of what Ruark had said. The major’s hand came to rest upon his pistol, and a horrified expression crept over Ralston’s features as once more he became the center of attention.

  “Nay! ‘Twas not me! I did not kill her!” He began to sweat. “You cannot lay this to me. Here, take your damned token.” He twisted the ring from his finger and flung it across the room. His eyes grew wild as he stared back at them all. “I tell you—I did not kill her!”

  His voice grew pleading as he turned to Ruark. “How can you accuse me? I never did anything to hurt you. Good lord, man. I paid the money to save you from the hangman. Is that worth nothing?”

  Suddenly Ralston remembered the chains on the man, the threats he had heaped upon him. No mercy would be found here. He faced Pitney to present his plea.

  “We traveled together.” But Ralston recalled the bloody quirt and knew the hulking man suspected him. No help from this quarter. He stared at Trahern and saw the angry gaze in return and heard the words gritted out.

  “You brought me men from the gaol and pocketed the balance?”

  Panic! Fear! Ralston’s world was collapsing around his ears. He fought to still his trembling hands and a quaking in his knees. Then Ruark spoke calmly.

  “Who gave you the ring, Mister Ralston? Sir Billingsham, perhaps?”

  The agent stopped and gawked. Then he laughed in sudden, overwhelming relief. “Of course. He repaid me for some moneys I had lent him.”

  “And where did Sir Billingsham say he had gotten it?” Ruark questioned above the murmurs of surprise.

  “Why, from a Scotsman, he said. For a debt the man owed him.”

  “Jamie is a Scotsman,” Pitney offered, frowning. “He could have taken the ring from Ruark.”

  “Where is Sir Gaylord?” Ruark asked, his voice flat. “Riding still?”

  “No one has seen him,” Amelia replied.

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this when he returns,” the major stated.

  “How much did you pay for Ruark?” Trahern broke in to question his agent.

  Ralston’s relief turned abruptly to distress, and he gulped out the answer. “Two hundred pounds.”

  “Fifteen hundred you told me. I can only assume you cheated me before.” Trahern hefted the bag of money before he tossed it back to Ruark. “There was never any fair debt of bondage against you, and your services have more than repaid my investment in you.” Without turning, he added, “Mister Ralston’s accounts on Los Camellos shall go as repayment for what he’s cheated me of.”

  Ralston stammered in outrage. “That’s everything I have in the world!”

  “You’d best have enough to live on here in the colonies for a time,” Trahern said, fixing Ralston with a cold stare, “for you are no longer in my employ.” Then the squire continued almost jovially. “Perhaps Mister Blakely will accept your bondage. Whoever your next master is, I urge you not to cheat him.”

  The thin man’s shoulders sagged. He had lost more here than he had ever gained through trickery. It was a cruel blow, indeed, if he should have to live out the rest of his days in. the colonies. If Gaylord couldn’t repay him, then he was truly in dire straits. The room grew still as Ralston slumped into a nearby chair.

  With much of the excitement passed, Shanna felt a sudden weariness sweep over her. It had been a long morning beginning with the stable fire. And then there had been the fear of Ruark being taken by the redcoats. As all the tensions ebbed from her, she realized she was nearly exhausted. Murmuring a word to Ruark, she let him make the excusal. He escorted her up the stairs and closed the draperies over the windows. She smothered a yawn and sagged on the edge of the bed. He smiled as he came around to lean a shoulder against the massive post at the end, and his eyes spoke above the silence as he gazed at her.

  “The door won’t close,” she reminded him impishly and laughed as she flung herself back across the bed. “Do you realize that we won’t have to sneak around anymore?”

  Ruark went to the armoire and opened it to draw out a fresh shirt. “Now that I can claim my room, I’m going to claim everything else in it.”

  He leered at her, drawing a playful giggle from her.

  “Not with that door open. Cool your lusts, sir, until it’s repaired.”

  “I’ll see it done posthaste, madam.”

  Shanna watched him remove the leather jerkin and draw the shirt over his head, and her eyes were soft with love. “There is that which bothers me still, Ruark,” she said quietly. “Who tried to kill you?”

  “I have strong suspicions,” he replied and spoke through the linen shirt as he pulled it over his head. “And I intend to find out for certain.”

  Stuffing the shirttail into his breeches, he came back to the bed. He bent down, bracing his arms on either side of her, and his mouth found hers, then savored its eager response.

  “I love you,” Shanna whispered, looping her arms around his neck.

  Smiling into her eyes, Ruark repeated the words as his hand slipped downward along her body in a soft caress. Abruptly his wandering fingers halted just below her knee, and he frowned his bemusement.

  “Have you grown lumps of a sudden, madam?”

  Shanna giggled and raised her skirts and chemise to show him the sheathed dagger stuck in her garter. “After this morning I decided you needed protection.”

  Ruark was more intrigued with the display of shapely limbs and continued his fondling along her naked skin. His kisses grew bold, and hot blood surged within his loins. Breathlessly Shanna whispered against his parted lips.

  “The door. Someone might see us.”

  “We seem to have a problem with privacy,” Ruark returned huskily and dropped a kiss upon her velvet-smooth belly before pulling down her billowing skirts. “I’ll go see what I can get to fix the door. Don’t go away.”

  “I won’t,” she assured him.

  As she listened to the sound of his footsteps hurrying down the hall, Shanna smiled to herself and snuggled against the pillow. He had not bothered to silence his steps. It was a long moment, and her eyelids sagged as her bliss gently sailed her into peaceful slumber.

  Chapter 28

  SHANNA CAME SLOWLY into full awareness. A small, furtive sound had disturbed her sleep, yet it was not one that aroused apprehension or fear. She lay still, gathering her wits and teetering on the precipice of slumber. The light scraping noise came again. It was the branch of the oak tree brushing against the windowpane. Shanna rolled her head on the pillow and in the muted light of the room made out the figure of a man just stepping into the chamber from the windowsill.

  “Ruark?” she murmured sleepily. “What game are you playing now?”

  The dark form straightened and turned. Shanna gasped and sat bolt upright on the bed, a scream hovering at the base of her tongue. The man came toward her, a smirk etched across his lips.

  “Gaylord!” Shanna was surprised, but her trepidation waned. Surely this foppish knight was harmless. She snapped angrily. “What are you about, sneaking into my chamber?”

  “Why, my dear Shanna,” the knight sneered. “I was imitating what I’ve watched your gallant husband do. Am I not at least as handsome
as he is?”

  “Certainly not!” she stated bluntly. She shook her head lightly. Her mind was still heavy with sleep. But—he had not been present when Garland arrived. Indeed, he had been absent for the entire furor. How could he have known of their marriage? There was something in this that gnawed at her and stirred both her suspicion and her curiosity.

  “Before I call the servants and have you cast out, I ask again, Sir Gaylord. What is your purpose here?”

  “Rest easy, my lady.” He leaned a long-barreled musket against the back of a chair and took a seat, propping his muddy boots on another. “I have been about business of my own and only sought to have a word with you in private.”

  Shanna rose and smoothed her velvet gown and sleep-mussed hair, conscious of his roving eyes upon her. She tucked her feet into her shoes and glanced at the clock on the mantel. The hour was shortly past noon. She had only slept a few brief moments after all, and Ruark would be returning soon to repair the door.

  “I cannot imagine what topic we have in common, Sir Gaylord,” Shanna declared haughtily as she folded the quilt and laid it neatly at the foot of the bed. If the boorish dolt was bent on renewing his courtship, she would put short shrift to it. She had no intention of staying to listen to his panted endearments.

  “Ah, my lovely Lady Shanna.” Billingsham leaned back in the chair and pressed his fingertips together, forming a steeple over his belly. “The ice queen! The untouchable one! The perfect woman!” There was an evil echo in his soft, wheezing laughter. “But not so perfect. My dear, you have practiced deceit and now the debt falls due. The time has come to pay.”

  Shanna frowned at the knight. “What are you saying?”

  “Your marriage to John Ruark, of course. You don’t want anybody to know about it, do you?”

  So, he did not know that the secret was out. But he knew about the marriage. She led him on.

  “Sir? Do you mean to extract money from me?”

  “Oh, nay, my lady,” he averred, his eyes following her with undisguised hunger as she moved a bit away from him.

  Gaylord came to his feet and, with a seemingly casual stride, positioned himself between Shanna and the door. He faced her abruptly and struck that inane pose with his cocked knee as he fixed her with a glowering gaze.

  “Nothing at all so devious,” the good man smirked. “ ‘Tis only that I need your assistance and have something to yield in return. If you will convince your father and the Beauchamps to invest a goodly sum in my family’s shipyard, I shall say nothing of your marriage to this Ruark chap, nor will I inform the authorities that your husband is, in fact, an escaped murderer.”

  Shanna’s face was carefully blank. “And how do you know that?”

  He snorted. “The fool Ralston, told me on the Hampstead of his dreaded secret, that he had bought a murderer from the gaol and that that same one was John Ruark. I had followed my father’s writings very carefully on your husband’s trial. Of course, he was Ruark Beauchamp then. What bemused me most was how you came to be married to the rogue. I understood that he had been hanged, and when you portrayed yourself his widow, I was surprised, for I had thought the man unmarried, or so my father’s documents stated. I had never seen Ruark Beauchamp, so I couldn’t name John Ruark as the same until Ralston informed me of his misdeed, and I could only surmise that John Ruark and Ruark Beauchamp were one and the same. You did marry him in the gaol, didn’t you?”

  Shanna gave a slow nod. “Aye. And what will you do should I submit to your demand?”

  “Why, I am off to London, of course,” he replied with an offhanded gesture, “to see to my affairs there.”

  “Back to London, you say.” The faintest glimmering of a notion began to tickle at the back of Shanna’s mind. She had thought to ridicule the man with the truth, but she decided now to further satisfy her curiosity. She kept her voice in the same half-angry tone she had used but asked a different question. “It occurs to me, Sir Gaylord, that you have been much in need of coin. You plead your poverty but comport in a most splendorous fashion. You were friends with Mister Ralston. You might have borrowed a few pounds from him—”

  “And what if I did, madam?” He was at once nervous and almost angry. “Is it any affair of yours?”

  “Of course not.” Shanna smiled to allay his fears and continued more casually. “Tis only that he had a ring of much value, and he insisted it was payment for a debt.” She urged him to reply. “A cameo one? Of some age?”

  “Oh, that!” the knight seemed relieved. “Most of my jewelry and some coin were in the baggage sent to Richmond. I borrowed a bit from him until I could reach the port and repay him.”

  “And the ring? How did you come by it?”

  He looked at her narrowly. “I paid out some coins to a Scotsman, and I took that piece for his debt.”

  “ ‘Twould seem there are many debts in this world.”

  “Aye, but why this interest in the ring, madam?” His voice betrayed an aroused suspicion. The idiot Ralston had taken on that one piece and insisted upon it for payment.

  “There is another thing I would ask.” Shanna tried to shift the topic to one less sensitive. “How is it that you came to know that John Ruark was my husband? You were obviously the one who told Ralston.” She tipped her head and mused aloud as he gave no sign of an inclination to answer. “Many people knew parts of the secret, but few knew of the marriage between John Ruark and myself. I cannot guess who—”

  A coldness coursed in Shanna’s veins, and she went to the window to draw aside the heavy drape, blinking as the bright sunlight invaded the room again.

  “There was only Pitney—and Milly. As I trust Pitney, it had to be Milly. Poor Milly, she was with child . . .” Shanna’s voice slowed, and she stared openly at Gaylord. “Ruark could not wed her, and she must have gone to—” Her jaw sagged as it all came together.

  “You!” Shanna choked out in horror. “And Milly! You killed her, too!”

  Shanna began to realize her own danger as Gaylord’s eyes narrowed and his face set. She knew she must flee and darted suddenly toward the door. Gaylord caught her easily, his long, bony fingers locking firmly around her arm. With a snarl he flung her backwards, and she sprawled upon the bed. His tall form towered over her, looming ominously as if he would throw himself down upon her. Her mind screamed for Ruark to hasten back.

  “Aye, Milly!” the knight sneered. “And do not fancy yourself above a like fate, so hold your tongue, my lady.”

  He withdrew a heavy quirt from beneath his coat and slapped the butt suggestively against his palm. Shanna recalled the long welts on Milly’s body and remembered Attila’s nose and could find no desire to sample the same for herself. Obligingly she held her tongue.

  Gaylord began to pace the floor restlessly, never leaving Shanna a clear path to the door, and carefully staying within a pace or two of her. He raved as he walked.

  “That common bitch! Daughter of a fishmonger! Ha! She got herself with babe and saw me as a fine catch.” He whirled on his heels and waved the riding crop. “But she changed her mind. Aye, that she did! She whimpered for mercy and vowed she would say nothing. I made sure of it.”

  Shanna was nauseated with the vision of Milly trying to dissuade the knight, pleading for her life beneath the cruel blows. She sat on the edge of the bed and tried to quell the sickening fear that gripped her. The man was insane. He would kill on a whim. No doubt he had murdered the girl in London as well because she had proven a hindrance to him. And the thought came to Shanna that should he become convinced she was also a threat—

  She could not let herself dwell on that. She must say something to distract him.

  “My father will—” she began haltingly.

  “Your father!” Gaylord’s nostrils flared as he glared at her, and his face became a twisted mask of rage. “Lord Trahern!” he mimed angrily. “A commoner! Son of a thief! How I hated to beg for his money. Him! A merchant cheating the gentler breed of its rightful wealth, t
aking their homes and lands because they could no longer meet his outrageous demands. Worthy lords and peers reduced to groveling at his feet for a tuppence. Good men with plans that might sway the fate of all of England coming to a common merchant to beg for funds.”

  Shanna’s ire rose in defense of her father. She would not allow a murderer to slander him. “My father cheated no one! ‘Twas their own lack of good sense that brought them to grief.”

  “My uncle would argue the point.” Gaylord took haughty offense. “He was ordered by the court to surrender the family estate for his debts. I believe your father now calls it his country house. But you defend him, my dear Shanna, when you have woes of your own. You know far too much for me to allow your freedom.”

  He paused thoughtfully for a moment and scratched his chin with the end of the quirt.

  “What am I to do? I need your father’s money, but I cannot let you free to spread your tales.” He came to stand near her. “Then there is your curiosity about the ring. Tell me why it was so quickly noticed?”

  He put his foot on the bed and rested an elbow on his knee, bending low to stare into Sharma’s face. She shrugged and answered as innocently as she could.

  “ ‘Twas only that it seemed richer than his means would allow.”

  Gaylord sucked on his teeth and sighed, “Madam, I have little time for pleasant banter and even less patience.”

  As Shanna opened her mouth to reply, his hand lashed out in a savage swipe. The force of the blow hurled her back on the bed, and Shanna’s head reeled as she struggled up to an elbow and touched her numbed cheek.

  “The next time I ask you a question, try to give me a better answer, my dear.” His tone was hard. “Now, why the ring?”

  “It belonged to Ruark.” Shanna spat between angry white lips.

  “Much better, my dear.” He studied her intensely. “Then your Ruark already suspects me of the bitch’s murder in London? He didn’t believe I had gotten it from the Scotsman?” Gaylord held up a hand. “No need to lie again. You did say I had killed Milly, too. And he has, of course, talked to your father?” He nodded as Shanna’s eyes flared in renewed contempt. “Ah, yes, I see. Then my masquerade is done!” He straightened away from her. “Well enough! I weary of playing the foolish fop for your good humor.”