Moonwitch

There was a stunned silence while all three sisters stared at her, openmouthed.

“Your wife?” Bea echoed, recovering first. “You are married?”

Selena felt her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Yet to her amazement, a delighted smile dawned on Bea’s plain face before she turned to scold her brother. “Kyle, you wretch! Why didn’t you say so at once?” Instantly, Bea strode forward to clasp both Selena’s hands in a warm gesture of greeting. “Hello, my dear, I’m Beatrice. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to welcome you to Montrose. I despaired of Kyle ever finding a bride—certainly one as lovely as you. Mercy, you must think us atrociously lacking in manners. Please do forgive us. It’s just that we haven’t seen Kyle in quite some time.”

Selena could have forgiven Kyle’s eldest sister anything for showing her such kindness. “Oh, no, of course I understand,” she replied quickly.

“Well, I’m not sure I could be so generous. Kyle should be hung from a yardarm, or whatever it is they do on those ships of his.” With that, Bea shot her brother a frown. “Do help her down, Kyle. Selena should meet her new sisters properly.”

Selena thought Kyle might object to being ordered about so brusquely, but as he helped her dismount from the carriage, she saw his lips twitch with a rueful smile.

As introductions commenced, Selena saw again that she had reason to be grateful to Bea, for it appeared that the younger girls meant to follow her example and accept Kyle’s marriage.

“You’re pretty,” Felicity said, beaming as she bobbed Selena a curtsy.

“Felicity!” Bea admonished.

“Well, she is. And I don’t see why it isn’t good manners to say so.”

Selena found it hard not to sweep the precocious child into her arms. “Thank you for the compliment,” she said with a smile. “And even if it isn’t proper to say so on such short acquaintance, I think you are pretty, too.”

“Are you truly married to my brother?”

Selena couldn’t help glancing at Kyle. “Yes… truly.”

Zoe offered a shy smile as she held out her hand to be shaken. “Does that make you our aunt?”

Zoe’s shyness touched a cord in Selena, for it was something she understood quite well. “I think perhaps the official connection is sisters-in-law, but I hope it shall make us friends.” Meeting the gentle brown eyes, Selena knew they would be friends. Already she felt a surprising closeness with the slender, awkward girl on the brink of womanhood.

And when Bea put an arm around her waist to guide her into the house, saying, “Come, now, Selena, we must show you your new home,” Selena’s throat unexpectedly tightened with emotion. She had never expected to be welcomed so warmly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Kyle retrieving Horatio’s cage from the carriage. “I have a gift for the girls,” Selena told Bea as they moved into the house. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

But once the cover was removed from the cage, there was no question that the parrot had found a home, too. While Horatio ruffled his feathers and squawked “Come to tea!” Felicity jumped up and down, clapping her hands, and Zoe laughed.

It was while the younger sisters were admiring the bird that Lydia came down the wide staircase. The girl was a beauty and quite aware of it, Selena thought. Lydia had the same brown hair and eyes as her sisters, but hers were a darker and richer shade, which contrasted well with the pale pink sprigged muslin she was wearing.

She had far more polish and apparently less warmth than her siblings, as well. When she greeted Kyle, she held out her hand to be kissed.

Selena was surprised at such affectation, but Kyle obviously expected it. Yet there was an unmistakable gleam of humor in his eyes as he executed a courtly bow and introduced Selena.

Lydia’s reaction was similar to Bea’s. “Your wife?” She shot Selena a startled look. “What about Danielle?”

Shock and disapproval sped across Bea’s face, while Kyle’s amusement faded abruptly. It was the moment he had been dreading—the moment his past indiscretions were exposed for his wife to see. Not that he had intentionally deceived Selena. He simply hadn’t found an appropriate time to tell her. At first he had been too angry at being forced into marriage to think she deserved an explanation. And he was enough of a gentleman to know the subject required delicate handling. Then later, he had been reluctant to hurt her. He could just imagine the wounded look in Selena’s blue eyes when he told her his reasons for not wanting to marry her—that he had intended to wed another woman so he could claim his son. Then after her reaction to Veronique, he hadn’t wanted to face Selena’s censure. Though perhaps, he admitted to himself, he was being cowardly.

Involuntarily, his eyes sought Selena’s. There was a quizzical look on her face: puzzled and expectant. So what should he say? Keeping a mistress could possibly be forgiven, as could patronizing a lightskirt; Veronique and Angel were part of his wild past, and he intended to keep it that way—in the past. But how did he explain Danielle Whitfield? How did he excuse his brief but consequential relationship with a woman who was a kind, gentle, married lady? How did he tell Selena about his son? And how did he do it in a way that would shield Danielle’s reputation as well, without adding fuel to the rumors that had been circulating in Natchez ever since Clay’s conception?

Moreover, how did he keep such knowledge from his young sisters? No one except Bea knew for a certainty that Clay was his son; Lydia was only guessing that his interest in Danielle was anything more than compassion for a lonely woman who was struggling to support a crippled husband and a young child. At least he fervently hoped Lydia was guessing.

Kyle cleared his throat, wishing he was back on his ship, where the only tempests he had to deal with were the wind and the sea; where women had no place.

“Will you dance? Awk!”

At the sudden interruption, Lydia dropped her haughty air in her enchantment over the parrot. As she exclaimed over Horatio’s cleverness, Kyle sent the bird a look of gratitude; he had never been so thankful for a distraction.

“Stubble it! Stubble it! Blast, awk!”

While the younger girls chortled, Kyle glanced again at Selena. Her intelligent, quicksilver eyes were focused on his face, and he realized he was in deep trouble. She was too perceptive not to have sensed the sudden undercurrents in the hall at the mention of Danielle or to brush off the subject as having no importance.