“It’s lovely,” she breathed.
Kyle gave her an odd look. “I’m glad you like it,” he answered softly, and she thought he sounded genuinely pleased.
Meeting his gaze, seeing the reflective, almost tender, glimmer of amber light in his hazel eyes, Selena wondered wistfully if they might one day have a true home together. She was disappointed when Kyle looked away as if discomfited by his momentary lapse into intimacy. He seemed reluctant to allow any closeness between them or to divulge anything of himself.
“Do your sisters live at Montrose?” Selena questioned, wanting to draw Kyle out.
His lips curved in a wry smile. “Yes, all four of them.” Yet despite the persecuted note in his voice, there was no mistaking the real tenderness in his expression. It was obvious he loved his sisters.
“Who did you say was the eldest?”
“Bea—short for Beatrice. She’s married to one of our state legislators. When our parents died, she and Thaddeus moved into Montrose to take care of the girls and keep the plantation up, but Bea’s expecting her first child soon, and she wants to return to her own home in Natchez in time for the birth.”
“That is why you are returning to Montrose? To assume responsibility for your sisters?”
“Someone must. The girls aren’t old enough to fend for themselves yet. Lydia just turned sixteen, and Zoe, while mature for her age, is only fourteen. Felicity is ten.”
“It’s very noble of you,” Selena said softly, “to give up your life at sea for them.”
Kyle shrugged, as if unwilling to take credit for making a grand sacrifice when he’d had little choice in the matter. But when he lapsed into silence, Selena realized he must be reflecting on how drastically different his new life would be. Not for the first time, she resolved to aid him in making the transition as smooth and painless as possible.
Of course it would help if she could win over his sisters, but for now she would settle for simple acceptance. Kyle was bringing home a stranger, and she was more than a little worried about how the Ramsey girls would react to their brother’s sudden marriage. As the carriage neared the plantation, Selena, too, fell silent, wondering what to expect.
They followed a sweeping gravel drive past a shaded lawn and came to a halt before the manor house. Montrose was even lovelier up close, Selena discovered. Fronted by dozens of yellow rose bushes and flanked by magnificent magnolias, it was a harmonious combination of English and French Creole architecture. Beneath a sloping roof, a gallery ran the width of the building, with a broad, cool veranda below that. Delicate iron ornamentation and slender pillars accented the white facade, making the house appear light and airy. Indeed, the entire effect was one of beauty and quiet dignity.
The afternoon was peaceful, as well—heavy with the perfume of blossoms and the drone of bees. Kyle had no sooner descended from the carriage, however, than the peace was shattered by a joyous shriek from within the house. Next, the heavy front door was thrown open, and Selena was startled to see a yellow blur dash across the veranda, skirts flying, and fling herself into Kyle’s arms. Felicity, Selena surmised, catching a glimpse of a bright, happy face beneath a mop of brown curls.
The child’s delighted laughter mingled with Kyle’s as he held her high in the air and whirled her round and round. And when he had done, she gave another breathless cry.
“Bea! Zoe! Come quick! Kyle’s here! Put me down, Kyle, do. I’m quite grown up now, and you mustn’t treat a lady so.”
“A lady, is it, pumpkin? And here I thought only hoydens screeched like fishwives and allowed their ankles to be seen by gentlemen.”
“You’re not a gentleman,” she replied to his teasing as he restored her to her feet. “You’re my brother.”
Kyle laughed and mussed her hair, doing considerable damage to the yellow ribbon that was threaded through her chestnut curls. But Felicity only grinned adoringly up at him, the freckles that dusted her youthful face standing out vividly against her creamy skin. She would be a beauty one day, Selena thought, observing their warm reunion.
Not so the tall woman who appeared on the veranda. Her plain but lively features resembled Kyle’s somewhat, but her hair color was a drab brown like a wren’s. She looked to be in her late twenties, and her serviceable gray gown draped a sturdy figure that was swollen with child.
With a glad smile, she hurried down the steps and gave Kyle a fierce hug.
“Lord, don’t choke me, Bea!” he complained, but his cheeks were creased in a grin as he held her at arm’s length and surveyed her plump figure. “You’re looking well.”
“Ha, I resemble nothing so much a turnip!” Bea replied good-naturedly. “But bless you for saying so. I’m glad to have you home.”
The love in her voice was discernible, even from a distance; it was clear that Kyle and his sisters enjoyed a warm family relationship of a kind Selena had not known for many years. Even the gangly young girl who hung back in the shadows seemed delighted to see him, for when Kyle said “Hello, Zoe” in an infinitely gentle tone, she moved into his embrace without hesitation.
“Welcome home, Kyle,” she murmured shyly, standing on tiptoe to plant a swift kiss on his bronzed cheek before burying her nose in his chest.
Watching them together, Selena found
herself envious of the obvious, easy affection between Kyle and his sisters. She wished she knew how to gain it herself. Instead, she sat tensely on the carriage seat, waiting to be noticed.
Ten-year-old Felicity was the first to glance Selena’s way. “Who’s that?” she piped up, once more gainsaying her claim of being a young lady.
“Felicity!” Bea exclaimed. “Where are your manners?”
Nevertheless, Selena felt several pairs of brown eyes scrutinizing her curiously. She was grateful when Kyle moved to stand beside the carriage. Yet he took a long time to answer, clearing his throat first before saying, “This is Selena Markham… Ramsey…my wife.”