Shannon’s mouth opened to deny his words but snapped shut as she thought better of it. He would, as he always had, believe what he wished. She bent her head, concentrating on the stockings she was darning.
“So meek of a sudden,” he chastised mockingly.
Shannon sighed quietly, her shoulders slumping a little as she withdrew into herself. Thomas refused to admit that it had been years since she had objected to anything he had said or done. No matter what foul business he accused her of, she agreed she was at fault. It was inevitable that eventually she came to believe the worst of herself. Though she had come to accept punishment as her due, Shannon knew Thomas was skeptical of her docility. He was convinced she was merely manipulating him, trying to make him believe she was subject to his will while at heart she remained stubbornly defiant. He did not accept that he had effectively destroyed her spirit before her seventeenth year.
“William Danvers came to see me today,” he said, dropping his notes back on the polished surface of the end table.
Shannon’s stomach roiled. This was the conversation she was dreading. She had a suspicion that William would seek out her father, and it could not bode well for her. “Oh?” she said, feigning ignorance.
Stewart’s eyes narrowed sharply. “He offered for you.”
Her heart sunk. There was no doubt of her stepfather’s answer. William would have been summarily dismissed just as Henry Garret and Timothy Andrews were before him. Shannon told herself she should be happy that Thomas had dismissed the suitors because she loved none of them. How could she? She had never been permitted to know them. Courting was out of the question, and Thomas forbade her to see any eligible men except in church.
Of the three men who had asked for her hand, she liked William the best. He was not unhandsome, being somewhat sturdily built with a thick neck and strong hands. His eyes were gentle, though, and that is what Shannon remembered most. She had seen him watching her in church, his heart in his eyes, and she knew that he liked her. Shannon had never given him the least encouragement nor allowed herself to hope, knowing too well how it would end. She was surprised to find that William was made of sterner stuff than his gentle eyes indicated. He had braved her stepfather’s wrath by making an offer. It could not have been easy for him because he had to have known that Henry and Tim had been unsuccessful. Glen Eden was too small a community for word not to have spread.
Perhaps William’s suit had been prompted by the earl’s own wedding earlier in the week. That happy occasion would have stirred the heart of a confirmed rake. Or mayhap he thought he had more to offer the vicar’s daughter than those who had pressed their suits first. He was, after all, the head groom at the manor. It was a position of great responsibility and carried a good wage. He could have given her a comfortable life, and Shannon told herself she would have made him a good and generous partner. Perhaps love would have grown on her part. Certainly she would have been grateful that he had removed her from her stepfather’s house.
Shannon admitted it was selfishness that caused most of her disappointment. Marriage would have meant escape, and she would have grasped it greedily if the choice had been hers.
“I told him no, of course,” Thomas said when Shannon made no reply.
“Of course,” she said dully. “My place is here. I would not make a fit wife. I could not be satisfactory.” She repeated the statements he had used to turn the others away. She would rob him of the pleasure of saying them now.
“I am happy you understand, though I must say it surprises me. I thought you might have imagined yourself in love with young Danvers.”
“No, I did not love him.”
“Oh.”
Shannon bit back a smile. He was disappointed. He had wanted his refusal to hurt her. She stuffed the stockings in her sewing basket and stood. “I am going to retire. Excuse me, please.” She started to cross the room but Thomas held out a hand, catching her by the arm. Her skin crawled as the back of his thumb traced the webbing of blue veins on the underside of her wrist. Her pulse leaped erratically at his touch, but she doubted she could convince him it was because she loathed the contact.
“Have you allowed him liberties?” Thomas asked sharply.
“No.” No man, save her stepfather, had ever taken a liberty. “I hardly knew William. There was little conversation between us. Certainly nothing else.”
“Then why did he offer for you? You must have encouraged him. I saw the way he looked at you in church, right under my very nose. Did you think I hadn’t noticed he was panting after you, the bulge in his breeches as big as a stallion’s?”
Shannon’s eyes closed briefly at Stewart’s crudity. “May I leave, please?”
“Did you think about him, Shannon? Did you think about being his wife, enjoying the marriage bed, taunting William with your body as you do me?” He yanked on her wrist, his gnarled fingers biting into her flesh with surprising strength. “Tell me the truth. I’ll know if you’re lying!”
What could she say? Shehadthought about being William’s wife. She hadnotwondered about the marriage bed. She knew she would have to tolerate that intimacy, but enjoy it? Never! As for taunting William, she was uncertain how it was accomplished. Her stepfather’s repeated accusations failed to bring Shannon any closer to understanding. Though she tried, she could never comprehend how she was supposed to have taunted Stewart. “I did think of him,” she finally answered, hoping this admission would make him release her wrist. She realized she had miscalculated immediately when Stewart pulled her arm hard, causing her to lose her sewing basket and her balance. Her hip brushed his forearm. Shannon gritted her teeth and tautened her buttocks in anticipation of Stewart’s intimate touch.
Thomas released Shannon’s arm, but before she could pull away, he ran his palm over the curve of her hip and derriere. “Go to your room,” he said tightly. “I will join you shortly. We will pray.”
Tears gathered in Shannon’s eyes. She wanted to beg to be left alone, but fear kept her silent. Experience had taught her that her stepfather would do as he wanted, regardless of her protests. She even suspected he would find a perverse sort of pleasure in hearing her beg. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob, Shannon ran from the parlor and hurried up the stairs to her room.
Defiance never occurred to Shannon. She had been under Thomas Stewart’s thumb too long to offer anything but compliance to his dictates. Distress marred the smooth line of her forehead as she dropped to her knees at the foot of her bed. Shannon rested her chin on her folded hands, eyes closed, and murmured the prayers that would deliver her from her stepfather’s care.
Shannon’s shoulders slumped when she heard Stewart’s uneven tread upon the stairs. By the time he entered her bedchamber, she was having difficulty breathing.
“Why do you continue to tempt me, Shannon?” Thomas asked quietly when he had come up behind her.
“I cannot help myself,” she answered dutifully, choosing the words that were least likely to incite him. Silently she wondered for the thousandth time: What is it I do that makes him want me?
“Neither could your mother. It is unfortunate that you have inherited her wantonness. I suppose it is bred in the bone.”
Shannon nodded as she knew was expected, but her action was not entirely to impress Stewart. She was more than halfway to believing what was said of her. “I’ve been praying that it will not happen again.”
