Moonwitch

“So did Edward’s,” Selena added, her voice a mere whisper.

“Who is Edward?”

“He was my betrothed.”

“I thought Warner was your betrothed.”

“Edward was my first.”

“What do you do, collect men for sport?”

Even for a man with justification for being angry at the circumstances, it was a nasty remark. Kyle immediately opened his mouth to apologize.

But Selena drew herself to her full height, her tone edged with frost as she retorted, “There was one major difference. I loved Edward.”

“Horatio loves you, awk! Will you dance?”

Looking startled by the squawked interruption, Kyle dragged his gaze from Selena and peered at the deepening shadows. “What is that?”

Selena hesitated, reluctant to disclose that she had brought another unwanted dependent on board. But she was grateful the bird had relieved some of the tension of the moment. She moved past Kyle to stand by Horatio’s cage, as if to protect him. “‘That’ is a parrot.”

“I can see what it is. I meant, what is it doing here?”

She didn’t think it a propitious time to tell Kyle she had thought to give the bird to his sisters as a gift. At the moment, it was very unlikely she would even meet his sisters. “He is to keep me company,” Selena said defiantly. Then, in a more conciliatory tone, “His name is Horatio—after Lord Admiral Nelson, who served on Antigua some years ago. The admiral also won the Battle of Trafalgar, in case you didn’t know.”

“I’ve heard of Admiral Nelson,” Kyle said dryly, refraining from adding that any young English boy who dreamed of going to sea—and many American ones—knew by heart the exploits of England’s hero.

“Are you going to tell me I cannot keep him?”

“Will you dance, love?” Horatio broke in.

A reluctant quirk appeared at the corner of Kyle’s mouth. “No, you may keep him.”

“Then,” Selena asked, taking heart as his roughly carved features softened, “may I go upstairs?”

He glanced down, surveying her, and even in the dim light she could see the amusement flickering his eyes. “You’re obviously as unfamiliar with a sailing vessel as I am with a plantation. On a ship, one goes up on deck, or above deck, not ‘upstairs.’”

The hint of laughter in his voice relieved rather than annoyed her. “Above deck, then. May I?”

“I suppose so, under the circumstances—if you can keep out of the way of my crew.”

“Of course.”

As Selena moved to cover the cage with the cloth, Kyle indicated the parrot with an inclination of his head. “Do you mean to take Horatio with you?” he asked curiously.

“To be truthful, I’d rather not expose him to the rough language of seamen. He’s very clever for a bird and is likely to repeat anything he hears.”

“I’ll warn my men to keep their salty tongues between their teeth.”

“Oh, no, there’s no need—” Selena began before realizing that Kyle was roasting her. “I shall keep Horatio out of their way and yours,” she assured him frostily, her spine stiffening as she turned to don her pelisse as protection against the wind.

Belatedly remembering his duty as a gentleman, Kyle took the wine-colored garment from Selena and held it up for her. When she had slipped it on, he hesitated, his hands resting lightly on her upper arms.

“Moonwitch,” he said gently in her ear, “you needn’t fear the ship will go down. I haven’t lost a vessel yet.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Kyle, conscious of the intense physical awareness she felt at his nearness. Why was she so strongly attracted to him? He had treated her with little more than grudging tolerance since he had known her. “You don’t think my drowning would be a fitting revenge for forcing you into marriage?”

She regretted the words at once, for Kyle’s expression instantly turned grim again.