Moonwitch (12 page)

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Authors: Nicole Jordan

BOOK: Moonwitch
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The crowd began to move then, toward the clearing beyond the garden. The wedding celebration—a sort of outdoor ball—was to be held there for the guests, but later in the afternoon, the plantation Negroes would hold their own ball there, and many of the gentry would stay. Such occasions—weddings and sugar harvests—were among the few times when blacks and whites mingled.

Selena was surprised when Kyle proffered his arm to escort her, until she realized he meant to keep up the pretense of theirs being a love match. No doubt, she thought glumly, he didn’t want to jeopardize his opportunity to escape the island and the governor’s authority.

When they arrived, the musicians were already playing a lively tune with fiddles and tambourines. The trestle tables that had been set out near a stand of mango trees were groaning with food, and servants were pouring tumblers of rum punch and sangaree for gentlemen and cups of watered lime juice for the ladies.

Selena found a cup being pressed into her hand as Beth whispered, “Look, the governor means to begin.”

“Ladies and gentlemen—” Governor Ramsay raised his voice above the chatter and laughter of the crowd “—if you will, please join me in a toast to the happy couple. To a long and happy life!”

“Ah yes,” Selena heard Kyle murmur as glasses were raised in salute, “‘the happy couple.’” The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable, and when she glanced up at him, she caught the bright mockery in his eyes.

It wounded her, that look. More so because she felt guilty for her role in bringing matters to such a pass. She regarded him in silence, her gaze trapped by his, until he took her glass from her numb fingers and handed it to Drew.

“Come, my dear,” Kyle invited as the musicians struck up a waltz. “I’m told we are to open the ball.” He led Selena to the center of the clearing and into the dance, and when his gaze fell again to her face, surveying her somber expression, he bent to whisper in her ear, looking the picture of the devoted husband. “Smile, damn it,” he said through gritted teeth. “We cannot disappoint these kind people, now can we?”

She flushed, which the guests mistakenly took for a maidenly blush, and pasted a stiff smile on her lips for the sake of appearance. She wished she could slip away from the crowd and the noise and the hostile, angry man who was whirling her around—she would give anything for a few moments’ peace.

It was not so easy, however, for the bride to leave her own wedding celebration. When her dance with Kyle ended, Drew claimed her hand for the next. Then the governor asked for the honor, followed by the solicitor, Ignatius Foulkes. After that she lost count, but the list included several planters and naval officers and even two senior members of Kyle’s crew.

Selena managed to keep up the charade of being a happy newlywed, though her face ached from the strain of smiling. Her left arm ached as well from the constant weight of her gown’s train, and so did her head. She was worried about the future of her plantation and was anxious to discuss its operation with her factor.

But even her strained smile faded when the latest cotillion ended and her partner returned her to the sidelines, for she caught sight of Avery Warner moving toward her. She hadn’t seen Avery since the altercation at Beth’s ball, and she didn’t want to see him now.

He appeared less distinguished than usual, in spite of his formal attire, for he was sporting an angry black eye, which Selena knew must be paining him. She had difficulty, though, finding the compassion to feel sorry for him, even when he approached her humbly, hat in hand, looking nervous and extremely uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Ramsey,” he said stiffly, and Selena was mildly startled to realize that was her new name. “I should like to offer my sincere apologies for my behavior the other evening. It was unconscionable of me to strike you, and I ask your forgiveness.”

His apology surprised her, but before she could reply, she heard a soft footfall behind her and realized Kyle had come to stand at her side. She felt the gentle touch of his fingers as he rested his hand possessively on her shoulder.

“Yes,” she said distractedly, disturbed by the warmth of her new husband’s fingers through the silk of her gown. “Of course, Avery. It was a trying moment… for all of us.”

“May I offer my felicitations for your happiness, then? For both of you,” he added with a sullen glance at Kyle.

“You may,” Kyle responded for them both.

“Are you satisfied, then?”

The question seemed odd to Selena, but Kyle nodded brusquely. Avery made her a stiff bow before moving away and returning to Edith’s side.

Kyle’s gaze followed Avery’s retreating figure, watching as Edith clung to the planter’s arm. “You’re well rid of him,” Kyle said, letting his hand fall from Selena’s shoulder.

She stared up at him, realizing what the two men had been talking about. “You demanded that Avery apologize to me, didn’t you?”

The slight movement of his powerful shoulders could have been a shrug. “He owed it to you.”

“Kyle?” she said quickly as he made to turn away. When he glanced down at her, though, she almost faltered, for that hard look still was in his eyes. “I’m sorry…about the way things turned out.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed, but whatever he might have said to her was lost as Drew interrupted them with a jovial command to rejoin the company. “Come, you two lovebirds, you’re missing the feast. Kyle, when was the last time you sampled our native island fare? There’s baked fish still hot from the coals and roast pork that I vow will make your mouth water. And if you’re truly adventuresome, you can try the pepper pot…”

Selena sighed with frustration, knowing she had lost a prime opportunity to try to smooth things out between herself and Kyle. But she accompanied the two men to the tables.

As Drew pointed out to Kyle the native dishes that filled the calabashes or gourds, Selena helped her plate sparingly to some fish and fruit. After the stress and trials of the day, she had little appetite.

Which was just as well, since before she had finished her meal, the second phase of the celebration began, and Selena found herself surrounded again by well-wishers, the ebony-skinned people who worked her sugar plantation. They were all dressed in their best finery: the women wearing brightly patterned linen buoyed up by numerous petticoats, handkerchiefs around their heads and gold earrings and necklaces; the men in checked shirts and canvas trousers.

They swarmed around her, offering her smiles and felicitations, but they hung back from Kyle, skeptically eyeing the tall, powerful-looking man who was to be their new master.

Hoping to set them at ease, Selena began the introductions, starting first with the mulatto schoolmaster. Kyle shook his hand formally but raised an eyebrow at Selena, as if surprised that the plantation would have a school for slave children.

“Schools are a common practice on Antigua,” she said in reply, “though not on some of the other West Indian islands.”

Then she made Kyle known to Granny Sarah, who had been born in Africa some ninety-five years ago, to the best of anyone’s calculations, and who cared for the fifty-odd children on the estate, the ones too young to labor in the fields. Granny Sarah, having lived too long to fear any man or master, squinted up at Kyle, and after a long scrutiny, beamed him a toothless grin.

“You trickify mon,” she praised, her speech heavily accented by the island dialect. “You steal missy from Massa Warner when he not looking.”

That made Kyle chuckle, which made the entire group relax, including Selena. It was the first spark of humor she had seen from him since that disastrous scene in Beth’s garden.

Granny Sarah cackled in delight as she eyed Kyle’s tall, powerful physique with approval. “You fine mon,” the wizened woman pronounced. “You give missy fine children.”

Her frankness brought a blush to Selena’s cheeks. Involuntarily, she cast an embarrassed glance at her new husband and found his green-gold gaze assessing her. Selena’s blush deepened at the measuring stare Kyle was giving her. But then she caught the ironic flicker in his eyes and realized he didn’t plan for there to be any children. Trying to hide her disappointment, she turned away.

Yet as she continued the introductions, Selena thought Kyle seemed impressed both by her people and her management, and she felt a sense of pride, for she valued his good opinion. She was also inordinately proud to be able to present the rugged sea captain as her husband. He was, she decided suddenly as she watched Kyle converse easily with the plantation’s chief driver, the kind of man her father would have wished her to marry, the kind of man who would accept responsibility for a vast estate and all the obligations that entailed, despite his own inclinations and preferences.

The music began again shortly, and Selena noted Kyle’s surprise that it was a minuet. He watched with interest as couples paired off and began to dance with as much grace and correctness as any fashionable throng at any ball in England. The only striking differences, besides the dark colors of their skins, seemed to be the exotic flair of their dress and the presence of children, who laughed and ran about underfoot, chewing on short pieces of cane.

The ball became livelier when a Scotch reel was struck up, and livelier still as, some time later, the music progressed from British to Caribbean. Kyle listened attentively as the dancers raised their voices in chanting song, and the drums beat out a rhythm that was dark and primal.

Selena, who was intimately familiar with Antigua’s customs and culture, found more pleasure in watching Kyle. She smiled to see him question one of the musicians about his musical instrument—an African
balafo,
which was made from pieces of hardwood of different diameters, laid on a row over a sort of box—and allowed herself to hope that his interest meant that he might be forming an attachment for the island that had always been her home.

When two maskers dressed in elaborate costumes took the floor to perform the whip dance, Selena felt she could safely slip away. She wanted to change out of her wedding gown and then consult with her factor about the future of her plantation. She left Kyle watching with fascination as one man chased and lashed at the other, who dodged gracefully just out of range of the wicked rawhide.

Beth caught her up as she reached the house.

“I thought you could use my assistance,” Beth said somewhat breathlessly as they climbed the gallery stairs to Selena’s bedroom. “You’ll never manage those hooks and laces by yourself, and your maids are all at the celebration.”

Selena smiled and clasped her friend’s hand. “Dearest Beth, ever practical and kind as always. You’ve been a pillar of strength for me. How can I ever thank you?”

“You did the same for me when I wed Drew, if I recall.” Beth gave her a sober glance. “I want you to be happy, Selena.”

“Yes…well…” She fell silent, and so did Beth—for a moment.

Then Beth, who obviously felt a duty to bolster her friend’s spirits, launched into a spate of praise for how smoothly the day had gone and kept up a flow of bright chatter as she helped Selena struggle out of the beautiful wedding gown.

As Selena bathed her face in water from the basin, Beth went to the armoire. “What shall you wear? The rose sarcenet would be extremely becoming.”

“The burgundy-and-gray crepe, I think,” Selena replied, patting her cheeks dry. “The one with the matching pelisse. It will be more appropriate for traveling. We are sailing this evening.”

Beth turned to stare at her. “So soon! I expected you to remain for several more days, at least. Perhaps I should ask Drew to persuade the captain.”

Selena shook her head. The governor could have obliged Kyle stay for a day or two longer, but she didn’t wish to rouse her husband’s anger further. “No, it is what Kyle wants.”

“Well,” Beth said brightly, “I’m sure you will find America very pleasant. Indeed, I fancy you will have a wonderful life. How could you not, with a handsome husband who adores you—”

“Beth… it isn’t a love match. You know it isn’t.”

The look Beth sent her was full of sympathy and compassion. “Surely you’re mistaken. I thought the captain seemed very taken with you. Perhaps he just doesn’t want to admit his feelings.”

“No,” Selena said in a low tone, looking down at her hands. “Kyle doesn’t love me.” Her fingers tightened on the linen cloth in her hands. “Not yet. But he will. One day he will,” she vowed quietly, realizing suddenly how very much she wanted it to be true.

But then she caught Beth’s eye and was embarrassed to have confided so personal a thought, even with her closest friend. Briskly Selena completed her toilette and turned to Beth for help in relacing her corset.

“Will you be taking one of your maids with you to America?” Beth asked.

“No. I would enjoy the company, certainly, but their homes and families are here.”

When she was dressed in the high-waisted burgundy gown with the pale gray sash, Selena glanced around the room that had always been hers and sighed. “I suppose I ought to begin packing.”

“Why don’t you go and join your new husband?” Beth said gently. “I can pack for you, and you can check later to see if there is anything I’ve missed.”

“But the portmanteaus and trunks are in the storehouse—”

“I’m sure I can find someone to fetch them.”

“And the portraits of my parents in the salon—I would like to take them with me. I doubt Edith will appreciate them as much as I will.”

“I’ll see they are carefully wrapped.”

Selena gave a helpless shrug and smiled. “Very well, if you’re certain…”

“I’m certain!” Beth exclaimed, and with a grin, gave Selena an impulsive hug. “Now go! Captain Ramsey no doubt is wondering what has become of you.”

Selena was far more skeptical, but since she was anxious to find her factor and discuss how the plantation was to be operated in her absence, she pinned on an attractive hat that was bedecked with gray satin ribbons and made her way back to the clearing.

Her footsteps slowed, however, at the sight that greeted her. Ignatius Foulkes was sitting in a gig at the edge of the clearing, his portly bulk taking up most of the seat, while Kyle was preparing to climb up beside him.

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