Shanna by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss Page A

least let him have his breeches on straight!”
    The dapple-gray horses tossed their fine, noble heads and pranced to a halt before the church. Pitney carefully tucked his pistol under his coat as Mister Craddock jumped down to the turf and, like any good coachman, swung open the door for them. Accepting Pitney’s warning frown, Ruark stepped down from the Briska and paused, pensively gazing out over the moors. He had a great longing to run through the fields for the sheer freedom of it, but he knew he would get no further than the low stone wall. Pitney was strong, but his size hindered his agility, and Mister Craddock and Hadley did not appear too swift of either foot or mind. Even after his confinement, Ruark was convinced that he could outrun them, but Pitney’s pistol and its lead could very well outspeed him. Then, too, there was the matter of a bargain he was most eager to see out. This held him in check far better than the threat of death. Of late that dark damsel had been too much his close companion.
    Leisurely he strolled toward the steps of the church but found himself the center of a close-knit group. On the first stone, Ruark paused and regarded the three men, all carefully within arms’ reach of him.
    â€œGentlemen.” A faint smile twisted the corner of hismouth. “If I should attempt escape, you will no doubt use the weapons you cover so obviously. I do not ask that you be remiss in your duties but do hang back a bit as if you were really hired servants.”
    At a nod from Pitney, the two guards returned to the Briska and leaned against it, though their attention remained on Ruark, never wavering, for they had grasped enough of the fact to realize their reward would come only with a task well done.
    â€œWhat now, Pitney?” Ruark inquired. “Shall we enter or await my lady’s pleasure here?”
    The servant pursed his lips in consideration of the question and then seated himself on the step. In his rasping voice, he stated flatly, “She’s heard the carriage. She’ll be out when she’s ready.”
    Ruark climbed the several steps to the covered doorway and took a place there to wait He was seriously pondering striking up a conversation with his stoic escort when the heavy wooden door creaked open, and his intended bride stepped out. Ruark’s breath caught in his throat, for in the full light of day Shanna Trahern was the most ravishing beauty he had ever seen. She seemed almost fragile in the subtle mauve gown. There was no hint of the bold wench who had visited the jail to seek a husband.
    Shanna passed the stranger with hardly more than a glance, not even pausing for the sake of politeness as the man swept his hat from his dark head. Instead she lifted her wide skirts to rush down the steps.
    Ruark leaned back against the stone and smiled his appreciation as his eyes caressed her trim back. Suddenly Shanna stopped, almost stumbling on the steps as Pitney turned to stare up at her. Then in amazement she whirled to gape at Ruark, her sea-green eyes wide in disbelief. His heavy cloak was thrown back over his wide shoulders, and the sight of the garments she had purchased struck her with the truth. A somber color, brown. She had carefully chosen it at the time. It could cover a multitude of faults and perhaps lend the colonial some slight dignity, she had thought, but now it was marvelously appropriate and so much more pleasing than she had dared to hope.
    His face was handsome , recklessly so, with magnificent dark brows that curved neatly; a straight, thin nose; afirm but almost sensuous mouth. The lean line of his jaw showed strength and flexed with the movement of the muscles there. Then Shanna’s eyes met his, and, if a flicker of doubt remained, it was immediately dispelled as she looked beyond thick, black lashes into deep amber eyes burning with golden lights.
    â€œRuark?” the question burst from her.
    â€œThe same, my love.”