Moonwitch

by Nicole Jordan

  It was Whitfield, Selena thought. His tone was sneering as he turned to address the crowd.

  “What do we want to listen to him for? A slave lover! He kept me from givin’ proper discipline to a nigra who talked back to me.”

  “It’s true I didn’t agree with your methods of discipline,” Kyle said with irony.

  “You had no right to dismiss me for floggin’ a slave!”

  “I expect I could have found other grounds for dismissal. I had only to review the account books at Montrose.”

  Selena held her breath. She had told Kyle about the discrepancies in the factor’s accounting, but he had decided not to prosecute Whitfield.

  Whitfield’s tone turned shrill. “What are you accusin’ me of?”

  “I don’t believe I made any accusations, but if you’d like to make an issue of it, I’ll be happy to oblige… No?” Kyle raised his voice again, glancing over the crowd. “That’s enough, all of you! The service is over.”

  Some of the gamblers at the fringe of the crowd moved, but no one else.

  “They’re ripping for a fight,” Thaddeus breathed.

  A heartbeat later a shoving match broke out, and fists began to fly. From what Selena could tell, the clash was between one of the preacher’s flock and a buckskin-covered trapper. And Kyle meant to stop it. She watched with dismay as he plunged into the throng to separate the two brawlers.

  For a moment she lost sight of him. Nor could she tell from the shouts and jeers what was happening. Then suddenly the crowd fell back, giving her a clear view. The preacher’s convert was down, nursing his swollen jaw, while the trapper was facing Kyle in a half crouch, arms outspread. Selena gasped in alarm when she saw the long knife the trapper was brandishing in one hand. The onlookers must have thought the knife dangerous, too, for they were giving the contenders plenty of room.

  When the trapper charged Kyle, Selena gave a cry and rose halfway out of her seat before Thaddeus restrained her. “Sit down! Kyle knows what he’s doing.”

  It seemed to be true, for Kyle easily sidestepped his opponent, at the same time thrusting out a booted foot. The trapper went flying, landing on his stomach with a loud grunt and skidding in the dirt for a yard or two. It reminded Selena of the first time she had seen Kyle fighting on the street in St. John’s.

  The trapper lay there stunned, but after a moment he shook his ragged, greasy head and pushed himself up. The knife was still clutched in his large paw.

  When he let out a tremendous bellow and launched himself again at Kyle, Selena clenched her hands so tightly that she could feel her nails pressing through her gloves. But again Kyle managed to avoid the wicked blade, this time catching the trapper by the arm and twisting. His knee came up hard into the trapper’s groin, doubling him over. A right fist to the jaw completed the work. The trapper went sprawling backward and lay still, clutching at himself and groaning.

  Kyle turned on the crowd with a grim smile. “Make no mistake, you scurvy wharf rats! Next man to challenge me gets his guts rearranged.”

  He was speaking to the rough men as if he were one of them, which was obviously the correct approach, and Selena felt a pride for him that almost overcame her fear. She shook her head when Thaddeus again ordered Saul to get moving.

  “Devil take it, Selena! I’m not going to let you go in there.”

  “Wait!” She laid a restraining hand on his arm. “They seem to be leaving.”

  Indeed, the rowdies were dispersing—with some grumbling, to be sure—as they headed down the hill in search of more congenial challenges. The preacher and his flock came uphill, passing within a few yards of the carriage. Selena averted her head, glad she had thought to wear a dark bonnet that hid her face.

  When they were gone, a relative silence fell over the deserted street. Kyle had disappeared. The door to Heaven’s Gate was closed.

  Selena took a deep breath then. “Would you wait for me, please? I shouldn’t be above half an hour.”

  Thaddeus shook his head in disbelief, but he handed her down from the carriage.

  Selena felt her heart racing as she made her way to the portico. She raised her gloved hand to knock, then realized it was a public house and reached for the doorknob, instead. Taking another deep breath to steady herself for what she might find, she pushed open the door.

  The smoke-filled taproom was nearly deserted. In one corner a small group of men were gambling with dice, in another, with cards. Kyle wasn’t in sight, but three women were lounging against the wall to the right. When they spied Selena, one of them straightened and tapped another on the arm. The third, a plump, black-haired woman of indeterminate years, sauntered toward her. To Selena’s shock, she wore a lace shawl over a thin shift, and nothing else.

  The woman must have recognized her, for she stopped suddenly, her eyes widening like saucers. “Oh, Lordy, we got real trouble now,” she breathed.

  “I’ve come…to see my husband,” Selena said quietly, yet aware that her voice seemed too loud in the sudden silence of the room.

  “Yeah, sure.” The woman whirled and disappeared through a door, but she could be heard clamoring up the stairs. In only a moment she was back, but not with Kyle.

  “Well, I’ll be,” Angel said slowly from the doorway. “Belle thought it was you when she saw that silver hair o’ yours, but I didn’t believe her.”

  A dozen pairs of eyes turned on Selena, and she felt her cheeks flood with color. But she stood her ground. “I would like to speak to my husband.”

  Angel placed a hand on one hip. “I like you, honey. Never thought I’d say that to a real lady, but you didn’t turn me outa your house like I thought you would. So I’m gonna give you some free advice. You turn around and git home. This ain’t a place for the likes of you.”

  “I’ll leave when I’ve spoken to my husband.”

  Angel stared at her for a moment, then shook her head. “All right, then, come on with me.” She turned without waiting to see if she would be followed, so Selena had to hurry to keep her in sight.

  Angel led her into a surprisingly opulent bedchamber. A painting of naked cupids hung on one wall, while crystal wall sconces illuminated a huge bed covered with red brocade and strewn with satin pillows. Selena was accountably relieved not to find Kyle there.

  Keeping her eyes averted from the painting, she stood awkwardly just inside the door, watching instead as Angel went to a cabinet and withdrew a decanter and two glasses.

  “Sit down. We gotta have us a talk.” Angel pointed to what seemed to be a small dining table at one side of the room. “You want some peach brandy?”

  Selena declined politely as, reluctantly, she seated herself in one of the straight-backed chairs. Angel settled in another and poured herself a large measure of the brandy before beginning.

  “I know just what you’re thinkin’ about Kyle bein’ here and all, but you’re off the mark. I didn’t aim to steal your husband. Just wanted to borrow him for a bit.”

  “Indeed.” It was a ladylike word, infused with a certain amount of hauteur and accompanied by a delicately raised eyebrow. Hearing it, the redhead grinned.

  “Now, I told you, it ain’t what you’re thinkin’. The thing is, my bruiser got his cork drawn the other day—got knocked clean out with a bottle a whiskey. Waste o’ good whiskey if you ask me, but it busted his skull. He can’t even remember his name, let alone how to use his fives.”

  “What,” Selena said faintly, “is a bruiser?”

  Angel stared at her. “Lord, you are a babe, ain’t you? Still wet behind the ears. A bruiser,” she explained patiently, “is a fella who keeps the peace in gamblin’ dens and…er, places like I run. He makes sure the paying customers stay settled down and the broke customers stay out. I got a cousin in Nashville, and I sent for him to come help me out, but till he gets here, I needed a man around the place. That’s why Kyle’s here. Kyle and me, we’re friends… from way back.”

  Selena didn’t want to inquire too closely about the
precise meaning of the word “friends.” “I’m not sure I understand,” she said, instead.

  “Kyle owes me, ya see. I saved his little sister a few years back—pushed her down and kept a bullet from partin’ her skull when some loose-screw Kaintuck was trying to shoot up Natchez. So Kyle’s papa said if there was ever anything I needed, I was to call at Montrose. Well, I needed something.”

  “So Kyle is here… to help you control the kind of crowd I saw earlier?”

  “That’s partly it. Someone had to drive away that pack o’ Bible pounders. I’ve got nothin’ against religion, ya see, but Silver Street ain’t a place to be preachin’. It wouldn’t do most of those scoundrels any good to find the Lord, anyhow. They don’t have souls to save. But that ain’t…isn’t,” she corrected herself, “the only reason I needed Kyle. There’s been talk of burnin’ this place down, and none of my gals feels safe anymore. I can’t do business with my gals upset, let me tell you.”

  “Well, yes…I can see that,” Selena admitted.

  “But what’s got me worried now is you. Ladies like you ain’t safe down here. You wanna tell me what put such a sap-skulled notion into your head, comin’ down here at night?”

  “I was worried about Kyle,” Selena said quietly. “I thought he might be… involved with another woman.”

  “Meaning me? Well, let me tell you, he ain’t… isn’t. And he hasn’t been fooling with any of my gals, either. Kyle’s had women chasin’ him since he could fill out his britches, so he can pick and choose who he wants. And he is right choosy, let me tell you. He never looked twice whenever I brought a new gal in. Always stuck with—er, but you don’t want to hear about that.”

  “No.” Selena looked down at her gloved hands, her cheeks flaming. Never would she get used to the candid way Americans had of speaking.

  “So you came here to drag him back home by his hair?” Angel prodded. “Honey, take my advice, that ain’t no way to win a man, especially not Kyle.”

  Selena had the miserable notion the woman was right. She had shown incredible naïveté, thinking she could convince Kyle to return home. A babe, Angel had called her. More like a fool. But she had felt desperate. She wanted Kyle at home, with her, in her bed. And she had no idea how to go about getting him there.

  But…perhaps Angel knew.

  Selena cast a surreptitious glance at the beautiful redhead. Did she dare ask for guidance from a woman like that? But yes, she was willing to listen to any suggestions that would improve her chances of winning Kyle. Indeed, she was willing to try almost anything.

  Taking a deep breath, Selena swallowed her reserve and her pride. “If I’m not going about it the right way, then what would you suggest?” she queried, at last meeting the redhead’s gaze directly. “I do want to win Kyle, I assure you, but I haven’t had much success. He hasn’t looked at me lately any more than he has your girls.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Angel said flatly. “If there’s one thing Kyle’s not, it’s blind. And you’re not exactly the kind a man can overlook, anyways. Do you know what kind a price a gal with your looks could fetch here? In New Orleans, it’d be double.”

  “But it’s true. He hasn’t… not recently.”

  The redhead gave her a look of patent skepticism. “I was sure it was ‘cause of you that Kyle’s been so unfriendly lately.”

  “I don’t think I’m the reason. Kyle isn’t…” Selena hesitated, knowing she was blushing to the roots of her hair. She didn’t know how to say this. “He isn’t…sharing my bed.”

  Angel’s mouth dropped open. “But you’re his wife!”

  Selena briefly described the circumstances of their forced marriage. At the end of the story, Angel looked relieved.

  “Thank the Lord. I thought maybe Kyle took sick—brain fever or somethin’. At least nothin’s happened to his… er…private parts.” She had the grace to look embarrassed then and took a swallow of brandy to cover up her blunder. “All right, let me figure a minute. There oughta be somethin’ you can do.” She thought for a moment, tapping her fingers against her cheek. “Seems to me, the thing you gotta do is seduce him.”

  Selena’s eyes widened. Seduce Kyle? Four weeks ago the suggestion would have shocked her; never would she have considered such a thing. But then, she wasn’t the same person she was before her marriage. Indeed, from the moment she had met Kyle, she hadn’t been the same. Even so, she wouldn’t know the first thing about seducing a man.

  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know how,” she said forlornly.

  Angel chuckled, shaking her head. “You got instincts, don’t you? Even if you are a fine lady. Now listen to what I’m gonna tell you…”

  She leaned forward with a confidential air. Ten minutes later, Selena was the one shaking her head. She was too shocked to be embarrassed. “I don’t know… I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “Sure you can. You jest let nature take its course, and Kyle’ll do the rest.”

  The redhead rose from the table and went to the door. With rising panic, Selena latched on to the one excuse that might save her. “Angel, I can’t! Not tonight. I left Thaddeus waiting outside.”

  “Thaddeus Sidlow? He hasn’t been around here in an age. Well, I’ll just invite him in. The girls’ll keep him entertained.”

  “No! I mean…Bea would prefer that Thaddeus go straight home, I’m sure.”

  Angel grinned at her. “Then I’ll send him straight home. If what you got planned works the way I think it will, you won’t be gettin’ outa that bed till long past daylight, anyways. Now, you get ready—and mind what I told you.” And then she was gone.

  Selena stared at the closed door for a long moment. Then, with unsteady hands, she reached for the ribbons of her bonnet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kyle came too soon. Selena wasn’t ready, having only just removed her gown.

  When the knock sounded on the door, she snatched up the wrapper she had retrieved from Angel’s wardrobe and held it up before her, trying to cover her corset and shift.

  Kyle must have been intimately familiar with the room’s proprietor, she noted, for he didn’t wait but a moment before he strode into the room.

  “Angel? Belle said you wanted—”

  He stopped abruptly, arrested in midstride, his words cut off in mid-sentence. “Sweet heaven.” He breathed the words as he stood there staring at Selena. She had snuffed out all but a single candle, and her skin glowed pale and lustrous in the dim light.

  Seeing her unbound hair falling in a silver cascade over her naked shoulders, Kyle drew a quick breath. For a space of a dozen heartbeats, he didn’t move. Then slowly, he pushed the door shut behind him and propped his left shoulder against the door frame, as though he needed the support.

  Selena returned his gaze, wide-eyed and uncertain. This was going to be much harder than Angel had suggested.

  It was a long moment before Kyle slowly let out his breath. “I suppose,” he said softly, “you’re going to tell me what this is all about.”

  “I… I came to keep you company.” Selena could feel herself flushing. “Angel thought you might be in need of some…female companionship.”

  Kyle didn’t reply at first, knowing full well what Angel’s idea of female companionship was. He shook his head, not trusting his ears—or his eyes. It couldn’t be Selena standing there, issuing him a provocative invitation for the use of her body. “Let me see if I’ve got this right… You’re here to provide me with a woman for the evening?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re going to service me?” He couldn’t believe it. Not his prim, proper wife—though just the idea made him harden with arousal.

  Selena’s color deepened at the crude word, but she was committed now. She couldn’t retreat. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

  “You’re too much a lady.”

  “Well, perhaps… I mean… I think I could try…not to be a lady.”

  Kyle stared at her. This wasn’t the first time she had
set him on his ear with her unpredictable behavior, but he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. And now that he had started to recover from the shock of her presence in a bordello, he began to feel an undercurrent of anger beneath his skepticism. Anything could have happened to Selena in this notorious town. If it wasn’t for that, he might even be able to find this incredible situation amusing.

  “How did you get here?” he asked with sudden seriousness.

  “I came in the carriage.”

  “Alone?”

  “No, Thaddeus accompanied me.”

  “I’ll wring his neck,” Kyle muttered.

  “No, please… I asked him to bring me.”

  Incredulously, Kyle shook his head. He couldn’t quite work out what his wife was doing in a bordello, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn down what she appeared to be offering. If, of course, that was really what she was offering. It was hard to believe, so unlike the cold-blooded woman he had convinced himself she was.

  “All right,” he said. His mouth curved in a faint smile as he crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “I’m waiting.”

  Selena stood unmoving, unsure how to respond. The intent way Kyle was looking at her made her forget every point of Angel’s sage advice. His hazel eyes were narrowed on her body, reflecting the glint of candlelight. She felt undressed, naked, vulnerable, even though she was partially clad. “I don’t know what to do,” she said in a small voice.

  “Drop,” he replied helpfully, “whatever that is you’re clutching so desperately.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then obediently let the wrapper fall. It was all she could do to stand there motionless under Kyle’s inspection. Her corset came to the top of her hips, her shift to midcalf, but her shoulders and upper bosom were bare, and her legs were clad only in dark silk stockings. Kyle’s bold stare assessed her frankly, raking her with practiced detachment, openly speculating.

  When his gaze focused intently on her barely covered breasts, an uncontrollable blush covered Selena’s entire body. Which was absurd, she realized. Kyle had seen her without her clothes on; indeed, he had thoroughly explored her body with more than his gaze. Selena bit her lip in consternation. She was making a terrible mess of this. Kyle would send her packing if she couldn’t do better than act like a frightened innocent.