Moonwitch (3 page)

Selena pressed her lips together. It was a bit late for Avery to be concerned about appearances, for she had already lent herself to gossip with a vengeance.

“And of course,” he continued in a more tolerant tone, “I am thinking of your safety, as well, Selena. I passed a throng of ruffians fighting in front of the courthouse just now—the courthouse, no less—and not a justice in sight. I was disgusted, I can tell you. Such conduct is disgraceful. Rabble like that should be clapped in jail and not be free to roam the streets. I intend to take it up with the council at the first opportunity.”

She should have told Avery then about her encounter with the “rabble” and their bold, roisterous captain, she knew. But she couldn’t bring herself speak of it, not in the middle of the street with the bright-eyed black groom overhearing her every word. Besides, Avery would learn of it soon enough. And perhaps by keeping silent she would be avoiding an even greater scandal. Avery was sufficiently aroused just now to demand the captain be brought to justice, and she didn’t think Captain Ramsey’s offense was serious enough to warrant a jail sentence.

And so she murmured a noncommittal reply. When Avery insisted on waiting for her so that he could see her home, she gave in gracefully and hastily completed her shopping. She was carrying a bandbox when she left the shop. Avery consigned it to the groom, who stowed it behind the seat, then handed Selena into the curricle, informing her that he had sent Samuel on ahead.

As they left St. John’s, with its Georgian weatherboard buildings and scattering of coconut palms, they turned south onto a narrow road of crushed coral, following the ridge of a hill. From that vantage, Selena had a good view of the warm, wind-washed island.

On her right was a luminous expanse of jewel-blue sea, shading to lighter green as it met the reefs that ringed Antigua and filled the numerous coves and inlets along the coast. The leeward side of the island was sheltered from the full force of the trade winds, so that the waves of the Caribbean lapped easily at the dazzling white sand beaches—unlike the eastern shore, which had no defense against the wind-driven rollers of Atlantic.

Before her stretched a gently rolling landscape, covered by low scrub and verdant fields, and beyond, in the distance, rose Boggy Peak, the highest point of the generally flat island. Except for the slopes of Boggy Peak and the cultivated gardens of the vast plantation houses, Antigua was nearly bare of trees, for there were no major rivers and no dependable water supply, leaving the inhabitants at the mercy of the occasional drenching showers and whatever water they could collect in cisterns and catchments. The lush stands of sugarcane were nearly gone, as well, for the harvest was almost over. Even so, the island shimmered a verdant green.

Selena’s thoughts were centered on the harvest when Avery politely inquired about the errand that had brought her to town.

“I needed a toque bonnet of a particular shade,” she prevaricated, offering that excuse rather than mentioning her trouble with Edith. “I shall be wearing a new gown tomorrow evening.”

“Ah, yes, the lieutenant governor’s ball. I’m sure you will look charming, my dear. But surely you could have sent a servant to fetch it.”

“Perhaps.”

“Well, in future it might be better if you were accompanied by a maid, or wait till I am free to escort you.”

Selena raised her chin with a touch of defiance. Avery’s request was reasonable, perhaps—in her mother’s day, gently reared females never appeared on the streets of Antigua without being veiled—but Selena had been accorded the freedom of the island since she could first sit a horse. If Avery meant to curtail that freedom so severely before their marriage, her responsibilities as a planter would be difficult to carry out.

“I went to see Mr. Foulkes, if you must know,” she replied. “It concerned a business matter that could not be delegated.”

“I suppose you are referring to Edith’s extravagance. Oh, yes,” Avery added when Selena glanced at him in surprise, “I’m aware that she mortgaged the house to buy a king’s ransom in jewels. An extremely foolish venture, considering the size of her income. I hope you don’t intend to come to her aid.”

“I don’t know that I have much choice. She could lose the house if she can’t redeem the debt.”

“Let her lose it.”

“Avery, it is my
home
we are speaking of.”

“You will have no need of it when you marry me, my dear. That is another reason to avoid delaying the ceremony any longer. I should like to be in full command of the plantation before autumn planting. Not that you haven’t done an admirable job of managing, particularly for a woman. But your father never intended for you to retain control, rather, to turn it over to your husband. And I’m certain you will be relieved to have such a burden lifted from your lovely shoulders.”

Selena bit her tongue to keep from saying something she would regret, and Avery reached over to pat her hand in an avuncular fashion. “I shall speak to Edith, my dear. I expect I can persuade her to consider your feelings about the house and to abstain from any more reckless expenditures.”

By this time Avery’s curricle was drawing up before the house that so concerned Selena—a single-story, stone construction, cooled by a raised basement and louvered outer galleries and shaded by mango and silk-cotton trees. The arched overhangs of the galleries were supported by slim wooden columns and brightened by cascades of yellow cassia and golden logwood blossoms.

Despite her annoyance at Avery’s lecture, Selena felt obliged to invite him in for tea. The interior was cool and elegant, decorated much like an English manor, with Aubusson carpets and Hepplewhite furnishings that her father had had shipped over from England years before.

Her stepmother wasn’t home, Selena learned from the Negro housekeeper, and Edith still hadn’t returned by the time Avery took his leave, promising to escort her to the lieutenant governor’s ball the following evening. So Selena next saw her stepmother at dinner.

A petite and sultry brunette, Edith Markham scarcely looked like a grieving widow. Nor was she old enough to be Selena’s mother. Only ten years separated them in age, but a vast difference existed between them in temperament and form. While Selena was sensitive and reserved, Edith was callous and outspoken. And while Selena was slender and pale, Edith was full figured and as dark as a Gypsy. They had never gotten along well, neither during the five years before Thomas Markham’s death, nor in the two years since.

It never occurred to Selena that her stepmother might be jealous of her elusive beauty or her managerial talents. She only saw that Edith rarely lost an opportunity to undermine her confidence and belittle her efforts. So she wasn’t surprised when during the soup course Edith immediately brought up the subject she had been dreading.

“I understand you made quite a spectacle of yourself this afternoon,” Edith remarked, giving her an accusing stare. “Really, Selena, I feel I must take you to task. Your want of conduct is embarrassing me dreadfully. No less than three of my acquaintances commented on your scandalous display.”

Selena stiffened at the rebuke, but she said nothing, knowing any argument would only make Edith more determined to be unpleasant. The best way to deal with her stepmother, she’d found, was to ignore her when possible and treat her with cool civility when not.

“If you insist on behaving so disgracefully,” Edith continued, “I’m afraid I will have to ask you to refrain from visiting town.”

“It won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“I should hope not! If you aren’t careful, you will give Avery a disgust of you. I’m sure he is quite aware of your preference for seamen after you cut such a figure of pity a few years back, pining after that naval officer.”

In spite of her determination to maintain her composure, Selena felt a painful flush rise to her cheeks; Edith had struck at her most vulnerable point—her lost love.

Edward had survived the war with America, for Selena had received a letter from him shortly afterward, full of plans for their impending nuptials and hope for their future life together. After learning that his ship had gone down in a storm, she had developed the habit of riding the long distance to English Harbor each day to inquire of the admiralty about incoming vessels, searching for news of her betrothed. No survivors of the downed ship had ever been found, yet without physical proof of Edward’s death, Selena had found it harder to recover from her grief. Even after so many years, she would sometimes dream that the report had simply been a terrible mistake.

“I suppose,” Edith commented in the silence, “it could have been worse. At least Captain Ramsey isn’t a common sailor. Rumor has it that he is every bit as wealthy as your father was. Though why any man would continue to captain a ship when he could enjoy the comforts of dry land is beyond me.”

“Perhaps he likes the sea,” Selena suggested coolly.

Edith shot her an unfriendly stare. “If Captain Ramsey is wealthy enough to settle down, then as a gentleman he should invest in an estate.”

When Selena made no reply, Edith left off eating her soup to give her stepdaughter a penetrating look. “Of course he will be staying at Five Islands. I suggest you keep well away from there, unless you mean to disgrace yourself entirely.”

Selena’s expression turned frosty. Certainly she owed it to her father’s memory to treat Edith with polite deference, but filial duty only went so far. There was a limit to how far she could be pushed, and Edith had nearly reached it. “I hardly need your warning,” Selena replied with chilling politeness.

Edith seemed to recognize the limit, for she finally dropped the subject and spoke of other things. Selena, her eyes quietly flashing, returned her attention to her soup plate and said little throughout the rest of the meal.

Perhaps it was Edith’s scolding that made Selena so wideawake and restless that night, or perhaps it was the mention of her lost love, or even the shocking kiss she had received earlier that day, but when she retired to her room, sleep wouldn’t come. Drawing on a wrapper over her white muslin nightdress, she slipped through the French doors of her bedroom and onto the gallery.

A full moon shone brightly through the slats of the louvered jalousies, while a soft breeze caressed her skin and stirred her pale tresses. She hadn’t braided her hair that night, and it hung fine and straight down her back, like a silver mantle. Resting her head against the cool stone of a gallery arch, Selena stared out at the shadows of a towering silk-cotton tree.

She should have been happy. It was crop season, when work was the hardest but spirits were highest for slaves and planters alike. The harvest had been good, not like some years when the lack of rainfall had resulted in barely enough output to keep the islanders from starving. And she was soon to be married. Avery might not be the essence of a young woman’s romantic dreams, but he cared for her in his fashion and would make her a good husband. And she would soon be mistress of her own home. She could leave behind the insecurity she had felt since Edith had usurped her mother’s place in Thomas Markham’s heart.

Yet an inexplicable heaviness weighed on her heart—probably, Selena thought, because she hadn’t yet determined what to do about saving her birthplace. It didn’t help, either, that her thoughts kept returning to that devastating kiss Kyle Ramsey had given her. His rugged strength had made her feel so very feminine, his earthy sensuousness, so very desirable. No doubt
he
hadn’t been affected by that embrace as she had been. Captain Ramsey was the kind of man to whom kisses meant little, the kind of seafaring adventurer with “a woman in every port.” By now he would have forgotten about it entirely.

Yet she couldn’t forget. She kept remembering the hardness of his sleekly muscled body, the musky male scent of him and the strange ache it had aroused in her, and kept wondering what would have followed his kiss if it hadn’t had to end. She had a general idea of what happened between men and women, so she could imagine—

Abruptly, Selena shook her head. Such fantasies weren’t acceptable for an unmarried young lady, especially one of her social standing, not when she was engaged to one of Antigua’s leading citizens.

She raised her gaze to the horizon. She couldn’t see the ocean, but she could smell its freshness mingled with the exotic scent of tropical flowers. The place where Captain Ramsey was staying as a guest was only a short distance away. Five Islands plantation, which got its name from the five small islands off the coast, was adjacent to her own land and near one of her favorite coves. She went there frequently to bathe in the sea. Not at night, of course, but in the early morning, before the sun was hot enough to burn her white skin.

The plantation house at Five Islands was less formal than her own, a low, rambling bungalow surrounded by spacious verandas and towering coconut palms. Would Kyle Ramsey be there now? Or would he have stayed in town and found a willing tavern wench to warm his bed?

Selena shrugged. She couldn’t imagine why she was thinking this way. She would do far better to try to sleep. She was turning toward her bedroom when she heard a sudden cry coming from around the corner of the gallery. It was softly uttered, as if someone were in pain but trying to hide it. Greatly concerned, Selena went to investigate, her slippered feet making no sound on the slatted wooden floor as she moved along the gallery.

Around the next corner, on the opposite side of the house from her own bedroom, a light was shining from Edith’s room. When Selena heard the soft moan again, she recognized her stepmother’s voice. Worried, she hastened her footsteps, but when she reached the French doors of Edith’s room, she halted abruptly, staring past the long, sheer curtains that billowed in the soft night breeze.

Edith lay sprawled on the huge master bed, still wearing the silk gown she had dined in, her face contorted with pleasure. Avery was lying on top of her, almost fully clothed, his body pumping between her legs while he held her arms stretched above her head.

Before Selena could move, he gave a final thrust, eliciting another muffled cry from Edith. “Be quiet, my dear,” Avery ordered hoarsely, “or you’ll wake the entire household.”