After dinner that evening Brandon excused himself from the table and indicated with an idle gesture that Shannon should do the same. Shannon was not so easily moved, however.
“What of Clara?” she asked a shade belligerently, lifting her chin a notch. “I must see-—”
“Cody will amuse her, won’t you, Cody?” Brandon looked significantly at his brother, almost daring him to refuse.
“Course I will.” He smiled encouragingly at Shannon. His smile faded a moment later when Shannon explained that she had been going to prepare Clara’s bath. Before Cody could protest, Brandon had his hand on Shannon’s elbow and was purposefully guiding her from the room.
“Where are we going?” She asked when they were alone in the hallway.
“I’d like to go for a walk. You should get used to my company, and there are things which need to be discussed.” He paused, giving her an opportunity to at least state her objections. When none were forthcoming, Brandon led her to the foyer. “It’s a warm night, I believe, but would you like your cloak?”
Shannon shook her head.
They stepped outside together. Night fragrances carried on the back of a soothing river breeze disarmed Shannon. She breathed deeply of the scents from the acres of tobacco plants, the apple orchards, and the flower garden. “Sometimes I am reminded of home,” she said quietly, loath to interrupt the rushing background noise of the river.
Brandon released his hold and then offered his elbow for her to take. After a moment’s hesitation she placed her arm in his. “Good girl,” he murmured, leading her off the verandah. “Do you miss Glen Eden?” he asked.
“No, not really.”
“None of your friends?” he inquired curiously.
“I hadn’t any friends.”
Brandon frowned. “None?”
“It is not so difficult to understand, surely. You met my father. He did not encourage friendships. He had to be concerned for his parish.”
“I fail to understand the connection.”
“He was afraid my manner would taint others,” she said to clarify.
“Of all the ridiculous—”
Shannon squeezed his forearm lightly. “Please. I do not wish to speak of it now. The evening is too lovely to be spoiled.”
Brandon nodded briefly. “As you wish.” They walked toward the wharf in silence. “You’ll have to alter the way you speak,” he said when they had stopped at the edge of the dock.
Shannon looked at him, surprised. “I beg your pardon.”
He repeated himself. “Your manner of speaking will not do at all,” he explained. “Aurora’s parents will sense you are an imposter immediately.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. Aurora spoke as you then?” She drew out the words slowly, trying to imitate Brandon’s speech.
He grinned. “She never acquired a Tidewater drawl, but she has not seen her parents in some time, and there is no reason for them to believe she hasn’t succumbed.”
“Could I not ape her speech?”
“It would be difficult. Better to disguise the whole. Can you do it?”
“I think so. The way everyone speaks here is rather musical. It should not be so hard.”
Brandon had never thought of it in that light, but listening to Shannon softly curve her words, rounding out the clipped edges, he had to admit there was something to what she said. “You did that beautifully.”
“Thank you,” she said primly, then realized her mistake. “I shall have to practice,” she apologized, reverting to the drawl.
“I shall see you have plenty of opportunity.” He began walking again and noticed that Shannon fell easily in step beside him. “Have you any knowledge of French?”
Shannon was horrified. “No. It is a licentious tongue, not fit for proper young—” She stopped when she realized Brandon was staring at her, one brow raised consideringly. There was a definite gleam in his dark eyes. “No,” she said again. “I cannot speak French.”
