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Moonwitch

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Chapter Fifteen

Friendship, not love. That was all Kyle seemed to be willing to offer her—although there were times during the following week when Selena felt an occasional glimmer of hope that she might be wrong. Frequently Kyle treated her with the same affection he showed his sisters and looked at her with the same tender light in his eyes.

She wished it was love. If only she could truly be Kyle’s wife, if only she could win a place in his heart, she thought she would be totally content. Still, her life was good. There were moments of quiet happiness and shared laughter, days filled with work and play, with neighbors and family concerns…the squabbles that Kyle had taken for granted but that Selena was learning to cherish.

And she was needed. The girls needed her, and so did Kyle, even if he had refused her dowry, even if he was beginning to stand on his own where the plantation was concerned. His ability to apply the skills and knowledge he had learned at sea to the operation contributed greatly to his success, and his growing expertise with the plantation meant he didn’t have to depend on Selena so heavily or seek her advice quite so often.

Yet her new family did need her, Selena was convinced—if only to intervene in their disputes. That conviction was confirmed when one of their squabbles broke out the day before the ball, when the ladies of the Female Charitable Society came to call. Lydia had argued that Zoe and Felicity shouldn’t be allowed downstairs, but Bea allowed the younger girls to appear briefly to meet the six ladies of the society and the Presbyterian minister, Thomas Henderson.

Bea had invited them all for tea with the intention of introducing Selena and involving both her and Kyle more deeply in community affairs. Unfortunately for Kyle, the ladies brought with them the same traveling Methodist preacher who had been trying to close down Heaven’s Gate—a starkly dressed gentleman named Denby. Not only was Kyle required to receive the man, but he was forced to listen politely when Denby managed to corner him. By the time the tea tray was brought in, Kyle’s expression was one of boredom, exasperation and desperation.

Intent on rescuing her husband, Selena joined the two men in time to hear the Reverend Denby make a solemn pronouncement.

“I am pleased to say that Mr. Gideon Whitfield has chosen to take up the cloth. He will accompany me when I leave this good city, to assist me in teaching the word of God.”

Bea, who was close enough to overhear the conversation, gave Selena a skeptical look that clearly said, “God begins in the heart, so what is Whitfield doing spreading His word?”

Selena thoroughly agreed but wouldn’t say so in front of the reverend. Just as she was about to murmur a noncommittal reply, however, Denby raised a pinch of snuff to his nostrils and lapsed into a sneezing fit so violent that it threatened to shake the house down. Immediately the chatter ceased while the curious guests turned to stare.

Selena was worried for the poor gentleman. Not only were his eyes streaming with tears, but he couldn’t catch his breath. Indeed, he couldn’t even stand without Kyle’s support. When eventually Denby’s sneezing slowed, Kyle retrieved the snuffbox from the floor, where it had fallen. His gaze narrowing, he dipped a finger into the box and gingerly tasted the remaining contents.

“What in blazes!” Kyle swore. “This is pepper!” His murderous gaze swung to the door. “Felicity,” he added in that same awful tone. “I’ll flay her alive.”

In four strides he was across the room and out in the hall. Selena quickly followed. She was able to deduce enough about what had happened to make her fear for Felicity’s skin, if not her life.

The young girl was crouching at the head of the stairs, peering between the rails of the banister. She gave a yelp when she saw her furious brother coming after her. Leaping to her feet, she made a dash for the safety of her bedchamber.

Kyle was faster. He took the stairs two at a time and caught Felicity by the scruff of her gown’s neckline as she reached the door. “Oh, no you don’t, you little wretch.”

“Kyle, don’t hurt her,” Selena pleaded breathlessly as she climbed the last steps.

“Hurt her! I’m going to string her up by her thumbs. Denby could have choked to death.”

“I’m sure Felicity didn’t mean to put him in danger.”

“Confound it, Selena! What she did was more than a harmless prank.”

Selena glanced down at the hall below, noticing the attention they were attracting; two of the ladies had left the parlor and were staring up at them. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere.”

Kyle looked as if he might like to give vent to an oath, but he clamped his jaw shut. Marching Felicity into her room, he shut the door after Selena, then folded his arms across his chest and glared at his sister. “All right, you shameless little hellion. How do you explain yourself?”

Felicity gave him a frightened glance. “I just wanted to have some fun.”

If anything, Kyle’s expression became more savage.

“Kyle,” Selena said gently, forestalling his explosion.

“Very well. I’m still waiting, Felicity, for you to give me one good reason why you would serve such a trick to a guest.”

“Because Reverend Denby is a prig. He patted me on the head and told me I was a pretty creature.”

There was a pronounced silence while Kyle considered her answer. Both Felicity and Selena watched him anxiously. His lips were still pressed in a tight line, but a muscle flexed in his jaw, as if he were trying to bite back humor. “You might be right, pumpkin,” he said finally in a dry tone, “but not even a prig deserves a noseful of pepper.”

“I won’t do it again, I promise.


“I trust not. Or you’ll find yourself with a dose of your own medicine.”



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