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Authors: Nicole Jordan

BOOK: Moonwitch
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She dropped her gaze, noticing as she did so the peels of several finger-size bananas and the skin of a large yellow mango lying in the sand. He must have carried his breakfast with him. She fixed her gaze on the fruit remnants as she tried to summon some semblance of her characteristic composure.

“Captain…I…You won’t catch much this far in from the reef,” she finished lamely, losing her nerve.

He studied her for an uncomfortable moment longer before he spoke. “I plan to take a ketch out later. But I don’t expect you rode all the way here to advise me about the sport.”

“No, I… I came to ask you a question.” She hesitated.

“Yes?” Kyle prompted.

“I should like to know… if you would marry me.”

“Good God.” The words were exhaled slowly, but otherwise, he simply stared at her.

Somewhat heartened that she hadn’t been refused outright, Selena went on. “Before you give me your answer, perhaps I should mention that my father left me a substantial inheritance. The Markham plantation has a thousand acres of prime soil, a modest size, perhaps, but highly productive. It’s rare that we don’t yield at least 350 hogsheads of sugar and 200 puncheons of rum in a year. My stepmother owns the house, however, so we would have to build one of our own—”

“Hold it, Miss Markham,” Kyle interrupted, quickly raising a hand. “Just…hold it. Perhaps you’ll forgive me if under the circumstances I don’t know the appropriate response… I expect I’m supposed to say that I’m honored but must respectfully decline your offer.”

Selena raised her gaze then, her blue eyes searching his face. “The plantation is worth fifty thousand pounds sterling, Captain.”

Kyle shook his head. It always took him aback, the way British aristocrats saw marriage as such a cold-blooded business arrangement. “You want me to marry you for your
money,
is that it?”

Seeing how one heavy eyebrow had shot up in surprise, she flushed. “No…I merely thought a large dowry would make marriage to me more palatable.”

“I already have one plantation too many, Miss Markham. I don’t want the responsibility for another.”

This was news to Selena, but she plunged bravely ahead. “You needn’t worry about the responsibility. I’m capable of seeing to it on my own. I’ve done so adequately for the past two years, with the help of an excellent factor.”

Kyle shook his head again dazedly. He should have rounded up his crew at first light and sailed with the tide, as his instincts had warned him. “I’m too old for you,” he countered somewhat desperately, momentarily forgetting that her betrothed was a great deal older. “I must have a dozen years on you.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

“I have twenty-four years to my credit, Captain. So there are only nine separating us.”

He took a deep breath, praying he would wake up and discover this was part of some strange dream. “Why are you so intent on marrying me? I thought you already were betrothed.”

Uncomfortable with both the question and the penetrating look in his hazel eyes, Selena averted her gaze, fixing it on a row of towering palms farther down the beach. In spite of her prior intimacy with Captain Ramsey, he was still a stranger, and she found it difficult to discuss her present circumstances with him. How could she tell him about Avery’s betrayal, about her humiliation?

Yet it would soon be common knowledge. Once she had called off the wedding, Edith would lose no time in becoming Avery’s wife. And, Selena reflected, if the islanders already pitied her because she had lost one intended husband, how much more sympathetic kindness would she have to bear if they thought Avery had jilted her?

On the other hand, she could ignore Edith’s threats and perhaps weather the scandal that would arise when she was forced from her home. But she had too much pride to marry Avery now. No, she would be reduced to begging before she’d become his wife.

She would have to deal with the consequences, though. Her life on the island would be intolerable—unless she already had a husband. She had thought Kyle Ramsey might be persuaded with the promise of a rich dowry, but she could see now that if he already had his own plantation, he wouldn’t be so eager to gain hers. Yet she had little else to offer. There was no reason to believe she would appeal physically to a man of the captain’s stamp. Edith had emphasized often enough that men desired a more buxom beauty and a more passionate nature than Selena seemed to possess. And Avery’s tastes certainly underlined that.

Shifting her glance from the feathered palms, Selena gazed out over the pale green water of the cove. “I don’t intend to marry Avery,” she said quietly. “Recently I’ve discovered that… we wouldn’t suit.”

Kyle muttered something under his breath. After wading from the waves, he shoved the end of his fishing pole into the white coral sand before addressing her again. “Miss Markham…Selena, I doubt that you and I would suit any better. And as crude as this may sound, I’m afraid you have only one thing a man like me would be interested in—and it’s a lot safer for me to find it at a tavern.”

“I suppose…you spend a good deal of time in taverns, drinking and… wenching?”

He gave her a sharp glance. “No more than any other man,” he retorted, not liking her to paint his character any blacker than he deserved. “I sometimes drink when I put in to port after a long voyage—though yesterday was something of a unique occasion. But the fact remains, I wouldn’t make you a good husband.”

“I could give you children.”

Kyle sucked in another breath, his heavy brows rising in disbelief as he stared at her. “You do have a way of knocking a man between the eyes, don’t you?”

It was early yet, and the morning was still relatively cool, but Selena felt heat flood her cheeks.

Kyle put his hands on his lean hips and regarded her with a frown. “Children, Miss Markham, are encumbrances in my line of work. Besides, I already have a family to care for.”

“You’re married?” she gasped, her startled gaze searching his face.

“No, thank God. But I have a gaggle of younger sisters who require my attention. The eldest has been looking after the rest since our parents died last year, but Bea is married with a baby on the way. She has her own family to think of. I’ve agreed to take responsibility for the girls. In fact, I’m bound for Natchez when I leave here. It might be years before I could return. I doubt that you would want an absentee husband.”

“No,” she said in a small voice. “But I could go with you.”

Kyle gritted his teeth, trying not to feel as if he were kicking a lost puppy. Devil take it, how had he ever gotten himself into this situation? She looked as lovely now as she had in the moonlight, and there was no question that he had enjoyed her body. But that was a far cry from wanting to marry her. He had no wish to sacrifice his freedom, and he already had
one
obligation along that line. Someday he would have to leg-shackle himself in order to claim his son.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Moonwitch, but I’m afraid I’m not free to accept your offer. I have a duty I’m obliged to fulfill.”

His tone suggested such finality that Selena turned her head away. It shouldn’t hurt so much, being told she wasn’t wanted, she thought. But she had done her best to persuade Kyle to accept her proposal. She couldn’t force his consent. There remained only for her to extricate herself from this awkward situation as gracefully as possible.

“Very well then, Captain,” she murmured, gathering the mare’s reins in her gloved hands. “Thank you for your time.”

Before she could turn her horse around, though, Kyle closed the distance between them and grasped the animal’s bridle. When he looked up at her, Selena could see the green flecks in his hazel eyes and the crinkled web of laugh lines at the corners.

Yet he wasn’t anywhere close to laughing now. He searched her face for a long moment, then reached up to gently touch her trembling chin with a long forefinger. “Moonwitch, if I were free… I really think I might be tempted.”

She forced a smile at his gallantry but couldn’t manage to answer. She was grateful when he released her horse’s bridle and stepped back.

Kyle watched her ride away in silence. When she had disappeared, he raked his fingers through his chestnut hair in consternation, thinking of the reason he wasn’t free. His son. A child he wasn’t able to acknowledge. He loved the boy, fiercely.

He had never expected to feel that way about anything but the sea. Two years ago he would never have credited how profoundly he could be affected by a single dimpled grin from one small toddler. Nothing had ever claimed his heart like that before, not even his family. He had revered his parents, and he held his sisters in great affection, yet the bond between a father and son was stronger, deeper....

Kyle shook his head again in frustration. He couldn’t marry Selena Markham. Not at the risk of losing his son. But he was determined not to let her impossible proposal cut up his peace or spoil his last days as a seafaring adventurer. There were too few of them left.

Snatching up his fishing pole, Kyle took two strides toward the swelling waves. Then abruptly, he turned back and hurled his pole down in the sand.

“Oh, hell!” he muttered, wondering how she had managed to make him feel like such a cad for refusing her.

Selena wasn’t sure whether her fierce disappointment was due more to the captain’s rejection or because she would have to deal with Avery and Edith alone, without even the comfort of a reluctant husband by her side. But she knew she needed to reflect on her options before she took any further steps to resolve her future.

It was unfortunate, therefore, that a proprietor of a large sugar plantation was frequently occupied by concerns of the estate. When she returned home, Selena found several problems to engage her attention and prevent her from dwelling on her own situation—chief among them the difficult birth of twins by one of her household servants. After spending the afternoon in the plantation hospital, where she provided support and encouragement rather than medical expertise, she barely had time to bathe and dress for the lieutenant governor’s ball that was to be held that evening.

If she could have refused to attend the ball, she would have done so, for the thought of confronting Avery about his betrayal tied her stomach in knots. But she knew he would demand an explanation if she suddenly came down with a headache or some other feminine ailment, and she preferred to postpone their discussion till she had time to collect herself, or at least until they could be private.

She dallied over her toilette as long as possible, and when she was dressed in a high-waisted gown of ice-blue silk with an overskirt of silver tissue, and the blue-plumed brimless toque bonnet she had purchased in town the day before, she went to join Edith and Avery in the parlor.

Avery was pacing the floor impatiently. He looked distinguished in an elegantly tailored green coat and tall beaver hat, but his immaculate attire reminded Selena of his fastidiousness with Edith the night before, and she found she couldn’t meet his eyes. When he complimented her on her appearance, she did manage to murmur an acknowledgment but she realized immediately that pretending nothing had changed in their relationship would prove a severe strain.

The carriage ride to the lieutenant governor’s home was every bit as miserable as Selena had expected. She was quiet during most of the trip, although she occasionally forced herself to respond to Avery’s comments while she tried not to shrink from his touch. It was a sheer test of breeding. Avery was sitting beside her in the barouche, and periodically he would take her arm or pat her hand as he discoursed on island affairs. Edith sat across from them in the forward seat, observing them with an expression that was at once smug and innocent. Selena was relieved when she could escape the close confines of the carriage and more relieved when Avery had to release her arm in order to progress through the receiving line.

Mounting the stairs, they moved along an open corridor that bisected the house and created a breezeway. Andrew and Elizabeth Thorpe stood to one side before a pair of stately louvered doors.

A planter by birth and avocation, Drew Thorpe was a handsome man with sandy-blond hair and a rakish mustache. His post of lieutenant governor was primarily honorary, since he was required to administer to island affairs only in the absence of the governor. His wife, Beth, was a rosy-cheeked brunette and a particular friend of Selena’s. They were nearly the same age, although Beth had married at eighteen and by now had three children to her credit. Both Drew and Beth greeted Selena with unfeigned pleasure before allowing her to pass on to the drawing room, which was already filled to overflowing by some thirty other couples and the six Negro musicians who comprised the orchestra.

The white-haired governor, Major General George Ramsay, was also present, Selena saw at once. He seemed to take a great deal of space, for in addition to a stalwart figure, he had an intimidating air of command, derived from years of military service.

Avery ushered the ladies before the governor to pay their respects, then procured a glass of sherry for Selena while Edith paused to speak to an acquaintance. He was just remarking on the warmth of the evening when the gay conversation and laughter in the room suddenly lagged.

“I say!” Avery exclaimed rather loudly in the hush. “What the deuce is
he
doing here?”

Curious, Selena followed his glance to the entrance, where an extremely tall, powerful-looking man attired in elegant evening dress was bowing over Beth’s hand. Selena felt herself flushing. She hadn’t expected Captain Ramsey to be invited, or if he had, to attend. But he seemed to know the Thorpes rather well; Drew was laughing as he vigorously shook the captain’s hand, and Beth was smiling up at her guest in delight.

“He,”
Avery continued in a deprecatory tone, “is one of the savages who made such a disgraceful display in town yesterday. A man like that should never be welcomed in polite circles. He does not belong.”

Indeed, he didn’t, Selena thought as she observed the captain. With his great height and sun-bronzed complexion, Kyle Ramsey appeared highly conspicuous, standing there breathing vigor and vitality. He affected the company like a fresh sea wind. Yet for once he was dressed appropriately…for once he was
dressed,
Selena amended to herself. His curling chestnut hair gleamed a deep burnished brown above a pristine white cravat, while his powerful shoulders filled his coffee-colored coat to perfection. A rugged Viking in gentlemen’s garb, she reflected.

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