The possible danger drew Kyle from his pleasant musings.
“I’ll fetch him,” Kyle offered. With a last brief look at Selena, he climbed to his feet and went after his son. Then he and the youngsters returned to their games, while Thaddeus took Bea back to the house to rest.
Selena and Danielle were left to observe the play. Neither of them spoke for a time.
“I can’t thank you enough for giving us this day,” Danielle said at last, watching Kyle perch his giggling son on his powerful shoulders. “Clay’s had too little joy in his life.”
Conscious that some of the cheer had suddenly gone out of the warm afternoon, Selena met the other woman’s dark eyes, seeing the sadness there. “I’m so sorry about your husband,” she said gently. “I understand he is very ill.”
“Yes. Jeremiah is dying.” Danielle’s voice was low and husky with emotion. Her eyes misting, she looked away toward the giant magnolias and the majestic, moss-draped live oaks of Montrose. “It has been hard…watching him die. Ours wasn’t a love match, but we had a good marriage… before Jeremiah was wounded. He’s a good man.”
She began to cry quietly, silent tears spilling from her eyes. “Do you know what the hardest part was? Living with the knowledge that I betrayed him. He never condemned me, not with words. But the hurt look in his eyes when I told him I was going to have a child… I’ve had to live with that.”
Selena’s own throat tightened. She wished there was something she could say in comfort. Watching Danielle, she could see how Kyle would be driven to console such a beautiful woman; a shaft of sunlight was striking her auburn hair, turning it to fire, while her unhappiness was enough to melt a heart of stone. Yet that consolation had taken the most intimate form possible. Selena flinched at the image of Kyle and Danielle together. It made her heart ache to think of it. Even so, she reached out to touch the other woman’s shoulder in sympathy.
Danielle started then, as if suddenly realizing to whom she was speaking. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” she stammered, choking back her tears. “I had no right… It was unforgivable…Kyle is your husband.”
“Danielle, it’s quite all right.”
“No, I’m sorry.” She looked appalled. “I didn’t mean to bring that up. But you should know what happened. You see, I was so wretchedly miserable, and Kyle was there—”
“I understand. You don’t need to explain.”
Danielle hesitated, wiping her eyes. “I should never, never have let it happen. It was a sin.”
“No,” Selena replied with quiet vehemence. “Such a lovely child couldn’t be a sin.”
Danielle turned to look at her son. “He’s the joy of my life.”
Selena followed her gaze. Kyle was lying back in the grass now, letting a chortling Clay bounce on his chest. “I would like to have a son,” she said softly. “You are very lucky.”
Danielle met her eyes, offering a watery smile. “I think Kyle is the lucky one…to have you. You’re so…serene…and comforting. I imagine you hear a lot of confessions.”
“No,” Selena said with a laugh. “Not really.”
“Well, thank you for listening to mine. I feel rather foolish.”
“Please… don’t.” Selena pressed her hand. “I should like us to be friends.”
“Yes,” Danielle agreed. “I should like that, too.”
It was early evening when the picnic finally ended. While the younger Ramsey girls gathered the quilts, Kyle carried his sleepy son back to the carriage. Selena and Danielle followed more slowly.
“Did you receive the invitation to the ball Bea is giving for us week after next?” Selena asked Danielle. “If you can come, we would be delighted to welcome you.”
“I don’t know… Jeremiah doesn’t like me to remain at home because of him, but the neighbors are so critical…”
“If your husband doesn’t object, I should think that the neighbors have no right to criticize.”
“Well, we shall see,” Danielle said with doubt in her voice.
Clay was already curled up on the seat when they reached the carriage, but when Kyle handed Danielle into the gig, the child opened his eyes and flashed one of his dimpled smiles as he pointed at Selena. “Moon lady.”
Selena was at a loss, but Kyle understood and laughed; Selena’s hair was loose and flowing, framing her face in a silver halo. “Clever lad,” he murmured while his arm came around Selena’s shoulders, drawing her close.
His intimate gesture startled Selena, at the same time filling her with delight and pleasure. She didn’t want to place too great a construction on his casual embrace, but it buoyed her spirits after her unsettling conversation with Danielle.
She was able, therefore, to project a measure of equanimity when she said goodbye to their visitors. Danielle might be the mother of Kyle’s son, but she was his wife. She was the one who shared his life and home. If only, Selena found herself wishing as they walked back to the house together, she could share his nights. Kyle had committed himself to protecting Heaven’s Gate and would be returning there shortly.
He was explaining that it would likely be another three weeks before Angel’s cousin arrived from Nashville, when they entered the hall behind his younger sisters. The girls had been chattering happily, but they fell silent abruptly upon realizing Montrose had another caller.
A handsome, blond young man was standing at the door to the parlor, hat in hand, looking as if he had been waiting for some time. He wore the white broadcloth suit of a planter, and the intense way he was looking at Lydia made Selena suspect this was the young man who had been seen kissing her in the summerhouse.
Her suspicion was confirmed when she saw Kyle’s lips tighten. “Parkington,” Kyle said with a curt nod of greeting.
The young man cleared his throat, his fingers curling nervously over the wide brim of his hat. “Mr. Ramsey, sir, might I speak with you?”
Kyle glanced at Lydia, seeing her pleading eyes. “Very well,” he replied tersely. “I’ll see you in my study.” He ushered Tanner Parkington into the room, closing the door behind him.
Although curious as to why the young man had requested an audience, Selena followed Zoe and Felicity upstairs to freshen up. Lydia loitered in the hall, anxiously watching the study door. She was still there when Selena came down again.
Just as Selena was about to suggest they wait in the parlor, however, the door opened and Tanner Parkington emerged. His shoulders were slumped in defeat and disappointment flickered in his eyes. He met Lydia’s gaze with a despairing shake of his head, then tipped his hat to Selena with a quiet “Good evening, ma’am,” and let himself out of the house.
Lydia, her cheeks pale, marched directly into the study to confront her brother. “You said no, didn’t you?” she demanded of Kyle. “Tanner offered for me and you refused!”
Selena followed in time to see Kyle eye his sister narrowly. “I refused my permission for him to pay his addresses, yes,” Kyle acknowledged. “In the first place, you’re too young to be considering marriage—”
“I’m not too young! I’m sixteen!”
“And in the second, he doesn’t have the means to support a wife.”
“What does that matter?”
Kyle raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Lydia, that kind of irresponsible question just proves my point. What do you propose to live on? For that matter, where do you propose to live? Tanner’s father is losing his plantation.”
“I don’t know,” she declared stubbornly. “We’ll live in a slave cottage if we must.”
“Romantic,” Kyle responded wryly, “but hardly practical. You’d regret it the first time you had to prepare a meal or had to wash your own linen. And heaven forbid when you discovered you couldn’t purchase a new gown that caught your fancy.”
“I tell you, I don’t care about those things!”
“Well, I care about you living in poverty.” When Lydia didn’t reply, Kyle’s voice softened. “I told Parkington I would reconsider if he finds
gainful employment. If he can prove he’s willing to work to provide you with a secure future, I’ll allow him to call on you in the presence of Bea or Selena. Until then, I don’t want you associating with him.”
“Call on me? Call on me?” Lydia wailed. “But, Kyle, I love Tanner! I want to marry him.”
“Lydia, my beautiful little goose,” he said patiently, “you don’t know the first thing about love.”
“I know more about it than you do!”
Kyle’s gaze flicked to Selena, then back again. “That may be true. Very well,” he offered, “I’ll make a pact with you. In a year or two, if you’re still of the same mind and Tanner has a reasonably steady income, you may marry him with my blessing.”
Lydia’s bottom lip trembled. “How can you be so cruel? You don’t care if my heart is breaking! I wish you had never come home!” She burst into tears then, and whirling, ran from the room.
Kyle raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Females!” he muttered. When he caught sight of Selena watching him from the doorway, his gaze narrowed defensively. “Do you think I made the wrong decision?”
“No, I expect you were right,” she answered softly. “Young girls sometimes have difficulty being practical, though, when they’re in love.”
“I’ll wager you never found it hard to be practical.”
Selena winced. She wasn’t sure why she found his assessment so painful, except that it implied she wasn’t capable of letting her heart rule her head. Kyle thought her too reserved, too cool, she knew. She wanted to remind him that she was learning to shed some of her inhibitions, to tell him that she was willing to change in order to please him, to become the woman he wanted her to be, but she could see by the way Kyle was plowing his fingers through his hair that his mind was still on Lydia.
“Would you try and talk to her?” he asked in frustration. “You’ll probably have better luck than I in making her see I’ve only her own interests at heart.”
“Yes, of course.” She turned to go.
“Selena?”
“Yes?” She paused, meeting his gaze. The sudden gentleness in his eyes made her breath catch.
“Thank you for today,” he murmured. “For giving me Clay…and you.”
She felt a glow of pleasure start somewhere in the vicinity of her heart and spread downward through her body. “Yes…of course.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, when I return from town.”
“Yes, of—” Realizing she was about to repeat herself for the third time, Selena merely nodded and returned a soft smile. But as she left Kyle and made her way upstairs, she found herself hoping that Kyle’s words might actually be signaling a turning point in their marriage.
The hope bolstered her spirits as she attempted to soothe Lydia’s broken heart.
“Kyle is a horrid beast!” Lydia proclaimed as soon as Selena entered her room. “Other girls marry at my age.”
Selena repressed a smile as she closed the door behind her. “He only wants you to be well provided for,” she replied.
Lydia gave her a look that labeled her a traitor. “You don’t understand, either! I love Tanner.”
“I think I do, Lydia. I was in love at your age.” Selena paused as a surprising realization struck her; she hadn’t thought of Edward or her first betrothal in weeks.
“But marriage is a serious undertaking,” she continued gently, coming to sit on the bed beside the weeping girl. “You should be very certain of your feelings before making a commitment to spend the rest of your life with a man.” Hypocrite, her conscience scolded as she recalled her hasty marriage to Kyle.
“What happened?” Lydia demanded with a sniff. “When you were in love, I mean?”
“My betrothed was killed in a storm at sea.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“I was, too. For a long while I grieved for him…and I didn’t think anyone could take his place in my heart. When my father pressed me to marry someone else, it didn’t seem to matter that I wasn’t in love. My father was a wonderful man, and I wanted very much to please him. But it would have been a dreadful mistake. I was fortunate to have discovered that before it was too late.”
“Do you love Kyle?”
Selena hesitated only a moment. “Yes,” she said before realizing another truth. What she had felt for Edward had been a girl’s love—adoring and starry-eyed and throbbing with idealistic devotion. What she felt for Kyle was far deeper—the love of a woman for a man.
But her consoling words seemed to have the opposite effect from what she had intended. Lydia’s lower lip began to tremble. “I want someone to love,” she whispered, her tears falling again. “I don’t have anyone. Not since Mama and Papa died.”
“Oh, Lydia…” Selena’s throat tightened as she felt the girl’s misery. It went far beyond the disappointment of losing a beau; anguish and desolation lay naked in her dark eyes.
With a murmur of sorrow, Selena gathered her close. Lydia gave in to the grief then. She buried her face in Selena’s shoulder and wept brokenly. “It isn’t fair,” she sobbed in a muffled voice. “Why did they have to die?”
Silently Selena pressed her cheek against Lydia’s shining chestnut curls, rocking her slowly, knowing mere words would never be enough to ease the pain.
Selena kept a close eye on the troubled young beauty during the next few days. Lydia seemed withdrawn and subdued rather than defiant, acting more like her younger sister, the shy, serious Zoe. Felicity, on the other hand, was the same precocious whirlwind as ever. Of the three, she appeared to have had the least difficulty adjusting to their parents’ death. Yet Selena noticed that even Felicity would occasionally suddenly touch her sisters on the arm, as if to reassure herself that they were still there.
Having lost her own parents, Selena could sympathize entirely. She had no trouble remembering her own pain and loneliness, which she tried to explain to Kyle the morning after her discussion with Lydia.
His expression was troubled as he listened to Selena’s account of the conversation. “Is Lydia really in love with the Parkington boy?” he asked finally.
“She’s convinced of it, but I’m not certain. I think the biggest problem is her grief over your parents’ death. What she needs most—what all the girls need—is understanding and love.”
“We can give them that.”
We. The word warmed her; it rang of duty and companionship, of shared responsibility between husband and wife. Yet Selena had to look away, certain that her feelings for Kyle would be written in her eyes for him to see.
Her yearning for Kyle, however, was matched by her yearning to help the girls through their difficult period, and in the following days, Selena made every effort to show them they were wanted and loved. She found it a joy to assume the supervision of their lessons—directing their study of English, history, ciphering and botany, and the more genteel pastimes of drawing, music and needlework—because it gave her an opportunity to become close to the girls. It wasn’t long before she realized she was growing to love Kyle’s sisters nearly as much as she loved him.
She was also beginning to settle in at Montrose. She took great pleasure in executing her duties as mistress of the plantation, and she enthusiastically aided with preparations for the ball that Bea was holding to welcome her and Kyle to Natchez. And during those early summer days, she met many of their neighbors.
The social life in Natchez, Selena discovered, was genteel, well regulated and indolent. The planters, in their broadcloth suits and broad-brimmed straw hats, spent their time hunting or fishing, paying morning calls, playing whist or chess or lounging the day away under a spreading oak, while their wives followed a similarly leisurely schedule. The gentlemen were all horsemen, always with riding whip in hand, while the ladies drove about in gigs.
Selena’s life at Montrose wasn’t as slow or pampered as that; she approached her responsibilities as mistress there with as much seriousness as she had in Antigua. But it was a life she knew, and she felt as if she
belonged.
Her favorite part of the day, though, was the time she spent with Kyle. It became a custom to meet him at breakfast every morning when he returned from town so that they could discuss the plantation’s operation. The topics ranged from how to repair the cotton gin and save the ten percent toll that the public gins charged for those services to developing a training system for their slaves. Selena wanted to expand their proficiency in wood carving, blacksmithing and a dozen other trades to make the plantation more self-sufficient.
Her first priority, however, was teaching their slaves’ children to read and write. In Mississippi there were laws against educating slaves, but she and Kyle talked at length about ways to get around that, and Selena was pleased to know she had his full support. She was even more pleased to see his genuine concern for the welfare of his people. She had expected Kyle to exercise justice and honesty in dealing with his slaves, but he proved to be a staunch champion of their freedom, as well.
“The Negroes at Montrose,” Kyle told her one morning over the breakfast table, “may be as well-off as anyone can be under bondage—at least now that Whitfield is gone—but they still have scarcely more rights than cattle. And I still find it difficult to stomach owning another human being. What would you say if I wanted to free our slaves?”
“I would say,” Selena replied thoughtfully, “that it is a compassionate and noble ideal, and then ask if you were a rich man.” When Kyle raised an eyebrow in query, she explained. “Most of the capital of a cotton plantation is tied up in slaves, so if you freed them all immediately, you would lose thousands of dollars. But worse, you risk losing the plantation entirely. When cotton is fetching a good price and profits are high, you can afford to pay your field hands a wage and support their children. When times are poor, there isn’t enough money to pay wages. Yet you still have to feed and clothe your people—unless you’re prepared to let them starve. Under such circumstances, a plantation couldn’t survive more than a few years. Then everyone loses—owner and worker alike.”
“But didn’t you tell me you had freed some of your slaves in Antigua?”
Moonwitch Page 27
