Kyle took another gulp of brandy as he studied Miss Markham. She wasn’t a fool; her eyes were bright with an unexpected intelligence he had recognized from the first. And she didn’t look the type to try to make her betrothed jealous by dallying with another man. But then, he was unable to comprehend why she would even want to marry a man like Avery Warner. Warner was a self-righteous prig with an inflated opinion of his own importance. But perhaps Miss Markham was attracted by his wealth or his power as a member of the assembly council. Perhaps they had merely had a lover’s spat, and she had found solace in another man’s arms. It would serve Warner right to be cuckolded, Kyle reflected nastily, if the man had upset her enough to drive her away.
Realizing that his thoughts were futile, Kyle shrugged. The damage couldn’t be undone. And as Miss Markham had so subtly pointed out, it wasn’t his business. He didn’t know if he could believe her promise of secrecy, but he wouldn’t get any answers by browbeating her. One thing he did know, though: she couldn’t stay here all night.
“I should take you home,” he observed tersely.
“I can find my own way, Captain.”
“Devil take it, I said I would escort you home!” He set his glass down on the table with more force than necessary, and as he relieved Selena of hers, gave her a critical appraisal. “Weren’t you wearing a wrapper or something?”
Seeing the hard set of his jaw, Selena nodded, deciding it wiser not to argue.
“Come on, then,” he ordered, taking her arm. “There’ll be the devil to pay if you’re seen here like this.”
He found her wrapper lying in the sand where he had tossed it and her horse a short distance away, grazing on a patch of scrub grass. After helping Selena don the robe, Kyle lifted her onto the mare’s back and vaulted up behind her. “Which way?” he said gruffly, not liking the necessity of such close proximity. He was having enough difficulty forgetting their moonlight coupling on the beach without being reminded by the warmth of her slender body or the pale hair that was drying in fine wisps and floating back to caress his bare chest.
Selena, too, was finding the closeness discomfiting. After giving directions to the Markham plantation, she lapsed into silence. She was riding sideways as modesty dictated, but in spite of her efforts to stay well forward, her left hip was pressed against parts of male anatomy whose existence she would rather not acknowledge. At least her rigid training stood her in good stead, allowing her to maintain an appearance of cool composure. In truth, she was struggling with shame and mortification, for now that she had time for calm reflection, she greatly regretted her rash behavior. Throwing away her innocence because of a childish desire for vengeance hadn’t solved her problem with Avery. She would still have to deal with that when she returned home.
“Is this the place?” Kyle asked after a time, interrupting her thoughts.
Seeing the plantation house gleaming in the moonlight, Selena nodded. “Perhaps you shouldn’t come any closer,” she said, thinking of Avery. “You might be seen.”
“Very well. Where are the stables? I’ll put your horse away.”
Selena thought about protesting, but the hard edge to his tone warned her he wouldn’t brook a refusal. “Along this path,” she replied quietly, “beyond a stand of mango trees. The second stall on the right.”
Kyle halted the mare, then hesitated a moment, as if trying to decide what to say. Putting a finger under her chin, he turned Selena’s face to his. “Look, Miss Markham, I’m sorry about what happened tonight. If I had known—”
“Please, Captain, I don’t blame you in the least.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She gave him a faint smile. “Most definitely. You were quite… considerate.”
She started to dismount then, but Kyle forestalled her with a light grasp on her arm. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked softly, searching her face.
“Yes,” Selena murmured, uncomfortable with his scrutiny and with the gentle concern she saw in his hazel eyes. She slid from the mare’s back and hurried across the lawn, knowing he was still watching her.
But when she had mounted the steps to the gallery and entered her bedroom, she froze.
In the faint light, she could see Edith Markham sitting in a damask wing chair, waiting, her dark eyes gleaming with malice.
Chapter Three
“I mean to have him,” Edith said at once before Selena even had a chance to react.
“H-him?” Selena stammered, thinking of the rugged sea captain she had just left.
“Avery, of course. I intend to be his wife.”
Selena lighted the lamp on her dressing table as she tried to collect her scattered wits. Why her hands should be shaking, she wasn’t sure, but she clasped them together as she turned to face her stepmother. Edith had changed from her dinner gown and was dressed in a lime-green peignoir that clashed with the soft corals of the bedroom.
“Don’t play innocent with me, my girl,” Edith demanded when Selena stood there silently. “You came snooping and saw us together, didn’t you?”
“I thought you were hurt… since you screamed…”
“I’ve been seeing Avery since Thomas died. Usually we meet at Five Islands plantation, but since it was occupied tonight by that Yankee captain, Avery came here.”
“Please,” Selena said hoarsely, “I don’t want to hear about it.”