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secret?”
    Shanna recognized that she had struck her target and saved the balance of her weapons for a later moment. She had heard similar vows often, indeed much these same words, and they seemed trite to her. That this ragged wretch would use them was almost an affront to her pride. But she played the game on. She shook her head, tossing the curling tresses enticingly, and laughed somewhat ruefully.
    â€œNay, sir, I give it to you, though I beseech your discretion, for therein lies the weight of my problem. I am Shanna Trahern, daughter of Orlan Trahern.”
    She paused, waiting his reaction. Ruark’s brows lifted, and he could not hide his amazement. “Lord” Trahern was known in all circles, and in that of young men, Shanna Trahern was often the topic of heated debate. She was the ice queen, the unattainable prize, the heartbreak of many a lad, and the professed goal of ten times that number—the dream of unrequited youth.
    Satisfied, Shanna continued. “And you see, Ruark,”—she used his given name with casual familiarity—“I have need of your name.”
    â€œMy name!” he burst out in disbelief. “Ruark Beauchamp? You need the name of a condemned murderer when your own would open any door you wish?”
    Shanna moved to stand close before him to lend weight to her words. Her eyes wide and appealing, she stared into his and spoke almost in a whisper.
    â€œRuark, I am in distress. I must be wed to a man of sterling name, and you must be aware of the importance in England of the Beauchamp family. No one would know except myself, of course, that you are no kin. And since you have little future need of your name, I could use it well.”
    Ruark’s confusion blunted his wits. He could not think of her motive. A lover? A child? Certainly not debts, for she was of money such as no debt could entangle. His puzzled frown met the blue-green eyes.
    â€œSurely, madam, you jest To propose marriage to a man about to hang? Upon my word, I cannot see the logic in it.”
    â€œTis a matter of some delicacy.” Shanna presented her back to him as if embarrassed and paused before continuing. She spoke demurely over her shoulder. “My father, Orlan Trahern. gave me one year to find a husband, and failure shall find me betrothed to whom he wills. He sees me a spinster and wants heirs for his fortunes. The man must be of a family privy to King George. I have not yet found the one I would choose as my own, though the year is almost gone. You are my one last hope to avoid a marriage arranged by my father.” Now came the hardest part. She had to plead with this filthy, ragged colonial. She kept her face averted to hide her distaste. “I have heard,” she said carefully, “that a man may marry a woman to take her debts to the gallows in return for an easing of his final days. I can give you much, Ruark—food, wine, suitable clothing and warm blankets. And surely my cause—”
    At his continued silence, Shanna turned toward him and tried to see his features in the gloom, but he had carefully maneuvered their positions until she now was presented full to the light when she faced him. The wily beggar had moved so stealthily that she had not been aware of it.
    Ruark’s voice was somewhat strained as he finally said, “Milady, you test me sorely. A gentleman my mother tried to teach me to be, with good respect for womanhood.” Shanna’s breath caught as he stepped nearer. “But my father, a man of considerable wisdom, taught me early in my youth a rule I’ve long abided.”
    He walked slowly around her, much as she had done with him a few moments before, then halted when he stood at her back. Scarcely breathing, Shanna waited, feeling his nearness yet not daring to move.
    â€œNever—” Ruark’s whisper came close to her ear, stirring awake a tingling of fear in her. “Never buy a mare with a blanket