Kyle’s fingers slowly curled into fists. He couldn’t indulge in his inviting fantasies. Selena would be shocked to the depths of her proper little soul. Nor could he make love to her in the more conventional way, in his bed or hers, not when she had so clearly demonstrated she wouldn’t welcome his advances. He would have to control his moonstruck lust long enough to finish this conversation and escape.
But it was Selena who took the initiative. After a moment, she rose to her feet.
And yet she knew she couldn’t leave it at that. Not when she felt such a burden of guilt for forcing him into marriage. Kyle had made a bigger sacrifice than she knew when he wed her. “Kyle… I am sorry you had to marry me.”
He shook his head. “No, Selena, don’t. There’s no point in wallowing in regrets. What’s done is done. We’re married now, and we’ll have to make the best of it.” Realizing then how insensitive he sounded, Kyle added quickly, “We didn’t have the best beginning, I know, but perhaps now that we’re here, we can make a fresh start.”
“I would like that,” she said softly. And because he had made the first overture, she gathered up enough courage to ask a question that any wife had the right to ask. “Are you coming to bed?”
She wasn’t looking at him, though, so he didn’t see the flush on her cheeks or realize her discomfort with her boldness. “No, not yet,” Kyle said with a sigh. “I need to review the plantation books and see if I can make any sense of them. You go on. I’ll see you in the morning.”
So much for starting over, Selena thought miserably. And later, as she lay alone in her bed, recalling what Kyle had told her, going over and over the nuances of his voice in her mind, she felt sick at heart. She wanted to believe Kyle’s assurances that there was nothing in his relationship with Danielle. But whether or not Kyle had ever loved the woman wasn’t the only issue. Danielle shared something with him that she, Selena, couldn’t. A son.
And it didn’t seem as if she would ever get the chance.
She didn’t see Kyle in the morning, or even in the afternoon, for when she came downstairs for breakfast, she learned from the servants that Kyle had gone out to the fields and wasn’t expected back till late. She spent the day touring the rest of her new home and becoming familiar with the house staff and their customary manner of operation. Martha, a large-boned, large-bosomed black woman, who had been the head cook before assuming charge of the house staff, was her guide.
The outbuildings were just as impressive as the main house. Selena was pleased to see that the house slaves’ quarters were immaculate and relatively comfortable, while the dairy, stables and carriage house were clean and in good repair. There was also a henhouse, a large vegetable garden and a small orchard, all of which were well tended and highly productive.
Martha had saved the kitchens for last. She beamed with pride when Selena admired the giant fireplace with its cranes and pots and the spit where meats were roasted.
“And now,” Selena said after inspecting the storage pantries and smokehouse, “if I might see the rest of the outbuildings.”
Martha pursed her large lips in surprise. “That be Mista Whitfield’s place. I don’ wanna be accused of steppin’ in his business.”
The name Whitfield introduced a jarring note into Selena’s otherwise pleasant day. Danielle’s brother-in-law, she surmised. She didn’t particularly want to meet with him, though she knew she would have to do so sooner or later if he was factor at Montrose. But for today, at least, she would likely be spared that duty, since Whitfield was no doubt giving Kyle a tour of the fields.
“I don’t see why Mr. Whitfield would object to you showing me around the plantation, but if he should, I will speak to him.”
Martha didn’t seem totally satisfied with such an assurance, however. And as they passed the factor’s office and the small brick house where he lived, she answered Selena’s questions with a wariness that hadn’t been noticeable before.
Selena herself was silent as they toured the smithy, carpenter’s shop, cotton gin and plantation store. She was intimately familiar with the workings of a well-run plantation, and here, unlike the main outbuildings under Martha’s charge, Selena could see evidence of neglect. What was worse, the few slaves whom she saw at work were old men who gazed at her with sullen eyes.
It was a distant walk to the quarters that housed the field slaves, but when she had inspected the small village of wooden buildings set in long rows, Selena was glad she had made the long trek. Here, too, were signs of patent neglect.
“Is Miss Bea aware of the condition of these houses?” she asked Martha.
“Miss Bea ain’t been here fo’ some time. That be Mista Whitfield’s place, like I said.”
“I see.” And Selena thought she did see. Bea was fully occupied with her house and family and wouldn’t have time to ensure that Whitfield adequately carried out his duties as factor.
“That Mista Whitfield, there be trouble with that man that Miss Bea don’ know nothin’ about,” Martha muttered cryptically. “I been in this family fo’ twenty-one years, and I ain’t seen nothing like it allowed roun’ here befo’.”
That was all Martha would say about the factor, and Selena knew better than to press her to inform on a white man. But she took such complaints seriously. She contemplated discussing the situation with Kyle that evening, but when he came home, weary from being in the saddle all day, she decided it could wait. She ordered him a hot bath and asked Martha to hold supper back for an hour.
Then, on second thought, she sought out Bea and asked if she objected. Bea laughed, however, and said she was pleased to see Selena slipping so easily into the role of mistress of Montrose.
Selena knew it was true; she felt comfortable in her new position and was already behaving as if she belonged. Yet she didn’t think the same could be said of Kyle. He seemed dispirited by his first day as master, and even though he didn’t say it in so many words, she suspected he hadn’t found any pleasure in being a farmer. Selena would have liked to discuss that with him, too, but Kyle retired early and was already gone the next morning when she rose.
She did manage to find out more about the factor from Bea, however. After setting Zoe and Felicity to work on their lessons in the schoolroom, the two ladies retired to Bea’s office, where they spent the morning reviewing the domestic affairs of the plantation in detail. Bea and Thaddeus wanted to leave for their town house in Natchez as soon as practical, and Selena intended to be well prepared to take over her sister-in-law’s duties.
What she learned about the factor did not satisfy her. As she suspected, Bea had left the running of the plantation entirely to Gideon Whitfield. Yet nothing Selena had seen convinced her that he was qualified to manage a large, complex operation like Montrose.
The factor was not the only Whitfield who troubled Selena, either. She had lain awake most of the night, tossing restlessly, unable to drive thoughts of Danielle Whitfield from her mind. The thoughts wouldn’t go away that morning, either. Nor would the doubts and fears. Selena couldn’t help remembering how her stepmother had successfully conspired to steal Avery from her and how naive she had been then. This was worse, though, for she hadn’t loved Avery. Moreover, now she had only a faceless, formless image on which to focus her fears—like an enemy one couldn’t see or fight.
As she reviewed Bea’s household accounts, the issue so preoccupied Selena that she couldn’t concentrate. When she found herself scanning a column of figures for the third time, she came to a decision. That afternoon, after asking some subtle questions of Bea, she ordered the gig from the stables and drove into town.
Upper Natchez was just as neat and