Surprisingly, Selena raised an eyebrow at him. “Where did Horatio learn that?” she asked with a smile that was a trifle forced.
Kyle realized then that she was giving him a reprieve. She was allowing him the opportunity to sidestep the issue of Danielle. But he should have expected it, he reflected. Selena was too well-bred to cause a scene, especially in front of his sisters.
He met her gaze over the heads of his giggling sisters with a look of fervent gratitude. Later, he promised her silently. When they were alone he would make a clean confession. As his wife, she deserved an explanation.
And Danielle deserved an explanation, as well. He couldn’t allow her to hear about his marriage from someone else. He would have to call on her at once and risk the gossip that the call would inevitably create.
And yet he had to consider Selena. A gentleman couldn’t simply deposit his wife on the doorstep like a piece of baggage and allow her to fend for herself. Devil take it, how had he ever gotten himself in such a fix?
Hoping he could count on Bea to extricate him, Kyle drew her aside. While Selena was telling the girls how to feed and care for the parrot, Kyle hastily explained his dilemma to Bea. He wasn’t disappointed, for she understood at once.
“Of course, I’ll help. Kyle, I don’t think Lydia really knows what she’s talking about,” Bea added with a frown. “And even if she does, she has no business discussing it in public, especially in front of Cissy and Zoe. I will speak to her about it—”
“No, Bea, that would only give credence to Lydia’s suspicions. Perhaps it would be best to say nothing at all. If you would just see to Selena while I go into town…”
Bea nodded and then stepped in to rescue him, offering to show Selena to her room and help her become settled. When the younger girls had taken themselves off to the parlor in order to further their acquaintance with Horatio uninterrupted, Kyle was free to suggest that he ought to return the carriage to the livery stable. It was a transparent excuse, for a servant could more appropriately have been employed for such an errand. But Selena again showed her breeding by politely accepting his explanation. She was ascending the stairs, listening courteously to Bea’s chatter, when Kyle made his escape
There were two side wings to the house, Selena discovered, the upper floor of one given over to apartments for the master and mistress. It was to this east wing that Bea led her.
“These were Mama’s rooms,” Bea said, preceding Selena into a bedchamber decorated in creams and golds. “Kyle will have Papa’s, of course, now that he’s home to stay. His bedchamber is through that door. I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” she added when she had shown Selena her sitting room and dressing room.
“I’m sure I
will,” Selena equivocated, though as she glanced at the vast mahogany bed draped with yards of mosquito netting, she couldn’t help wishing the Ramseys weren’t quite so affluent. In a smaller house, she might have been required to share a bedchamber with her husband.
“Kyle told me about your parents,” she said to change the subject. “I’m sorry you lost them so tragically.”
A shadow darkened Bea’s face. “Yes, well…they were wonderful people. You would have liked them. It was hardest on the girls, but they’re recovering. I suppose we should still be in mourning, since it hasn’t even been eight months, but Mama detested black. And I can’t believe it would be good for the baby if I only stared at somber faces and depressing colors all day long.”
Selena smiled, watching Bea gently pat her swollen abdomen. “I imagine you must be very happy.”
“Indeed I am! It took me so long, poor Thaddeus had nearly despaired of ever having children. We’ve been married over three years, you see.” She paused as Selena’s gaze turned wistful. “God willing, you’ll soon be having your own.”
Selena felt herself flushing. At the moment, bearing Kyle’s children seemed highly unlikely. She could scarcely get him to speak to her, much less share a marriage bed. But she couldn’t discuss such a subject with Bea. Turning away, she busied herself with removing her gloves and bonnet and laying them on a small rosewood table.
“I’ll send up a maid shortly to help you unpack,” Bea said as she lowered her plump, ungainly body into a comfortable wing chair. “I have to confess,” she added tentatively, “I was surprised that Kyle married without telling us.”
It was an inquiry, Selena knew—phrased tactfully, but still a request for an explanation. “He didn’t want to marry me,” she replied in a low voice, meeting Bea’s eyes directly. And when the plain-faced woman looked at her expectantly, she told Bea the rest of the story, about Antigua and the altercation in the garden and how Kyle had saved her from scandal, leaving out only the fact that she had made love to Kyle on the beach.
“But you care for him?” was all Bea asked at the conclusion of the tale, concern evident in her voice.
“Yes,” Selena answered softly, in complete honesty. “I care for him.”
Bea relaxed visibly. “Well, then, that’s all right. I wouldn’t worry about how your union began. I know my brother, and he wouldn’t let himself be forced any into anything if he truly objected. Besides, you’re underestimating your appeal. Felicity was right. You’re so beautiful Kyle probably took one look at you and fell head over heels in love. Now, if you had my looks… It’s a wonder what Thaddeus Sidlow ever saw in a plain creature like me.”
Selena smiled as she shook her head. It was easy to guess what any man of discernment saw in such a generous, loving woman. “Thank you,” she said simply, with gratitude for being accepted so unquestionably. And when Bea grinned in return, Selena knew she had found another friend.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Bea admitted then. “I worried about leaving Kyle alone in a house overrun by petticoats. He knows nothing about raising girls or managing a household—or running a plantation, for that matter, but with you to help him, I expect he’ll do quite well.”
“It will be difficult, though, for him to give up his independence.”
Bea waved a hand in dismissal. “Kyle may think he wants freedom, but he’ll be happy with a family, I know it.”
Her smile fading, Selena went to stand at the tall French windows that were opened to the gallery. Below was a garden courtyard, shaded by sweet olive and flowering almond trees and scented with jasmine and roses. Beyond, to her right, she could see the kitchens and house slaves’ quarters, which composed a separate rear wing of the house.
“Bea… who is Danielle?”
She felt rather than saw Bea stiffen behind her. It was a long moment before Bea answered, and then her tone was a touch too bright. “Danielle Whitfield? Why, she’s one of the citizens of Natchez. Her husband, Jeremiah, was gravely wounded in the Battle of New Orleans—his spine shattered by a musket ball. No one thought he would survive, but somehow he has. It has left him a complete invalid, though, and the doctor thinks it extremely unlikely he will live much longer. Danielle works at Chandler’s General Mercantile in town to support him and their two-year-old son.”