ignore the fluttering in her stomach, Selena urged her horse forward. When she halted a few yards from Kyle, she could see he wasn’t overjoyed by her presence; he had half turned to watch her progress and was observing her with an extremely wary look in his hazel eyes.
“Miss Markham,” he said, making the words more a question than a greeting.
Unexpectedly, Selena found herself the victim of an absurd attack of shyness. Up close, in broad daylight, his ruggedness seemed more pronounced, and the broad expanse of naked sinews reminded her rather forcefully of how his powerful body had felt pressed against hers.
She dropped her gaze, noticing as she did so the peels of several finger-size bananas and the skin of a large yellow mango lying in the sand. He must have carried his breakfast with him. She fixed her gaze on the fruit remnants as she tried to summon some semblance of her characteristic composure.
“Captain…I…You won’t catch much this far in from the reef,” she finished lamely, losing her nerve.
He studied her for an uncomfortable moment longer before he spoke. “I plan to take a ketch out later. But I don’t expect you rode all the way here to advise me about the sport.”
“No, I… I came to ask you a question.” She hesitated.
“Yes?” Kyle prompted.
“I should like to know… if you would marry me.”
“Good God.” The words were exhaled slowly, but otherwise, he simply stared at her.
Somewhat heartened that she hadn’t been refused outright, Selena went on. “Before you give me your answer, perhaps I should mention that my father left me a substantial inheritance. The Markham plantation has a thousand acres of prime soil, a modest size, perhaps, but highly productive. It’s rare that we don’t yield at least 350 hogsheads of sugar and 200 puncheons of rum in a year. My stepmother owns the house, however, so we would have to build one of our own—”
“Hold it, Miss Markham,” Kyle interrupted, quickly raising a hand. “Just…hold it. Perhaps you’ll forgive me if under the circumstances I don’t know the appropriate response… I expect I’m supposed to say that I’m honored but must respectfully decline your offer.”
Selena raised her gaze then, her blue eyes searching his face. “The plantation is worth fifty thousand pounds sterling, Captain.”
Kyle shook his head. It always took him aback, the way British aristocrats saw marriage as such a cold-blooded business arrangement. “You want me to marry you for your
money,
is that it?”
Seeing how one heavy eyebrow had shot up in surprise, she flushed. “No…I merely thought a large dowry would make marriage to me more palatable.”
“I already have one plantation too many, Miss Markham. I don’t want the responsibility for another.”
This was news to Selena, but she plunged bravely ahead. “You needn’t worry about the responsibility. I’m capable of seeing to it on my own. I’ve done so adequately for the past two years, with the help of an excellent factor.”
Kyle shook his head again dazedly. He should have rounded up his crew at first light and sailed with the tide, as his instincts had warned him. “I’m too old for you,” he countered somewhat desperately, momentarily forgetting that her betrothed was a great deal older. “I must have a dozen years on you.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“I have twenty-four years to my credit, Captain. So there are only nine separating us.”
He took a deep breath, praying he would wake up and discover this was part of some strange dream. “Why are you so intent on marrying me? I thought you already were betrothed.”
Uncomfortable with both the question and the penetrating look in his hazel eyes, Selena averted her gaze, fixing it on a row of towering palms farther down the beach. In spite of her prior intimacy with Captain Ramsey, he was still a stranger, and she found it difficult to discuss her present circumstances with him. How
“Miss Markham,” he said, making the words more a question than a greeting.
Unexpectedly, Selena found herself the victim of an absurd attack of shyness. Up close, in broad daylight, his ruggedness seemed more pronounced, and the broad expanse of naked sinews reminded her rather forcefully of how his powerful body had felt pressed against hers.
She dropped her gaze, noticing as she did so the peels of several finger-size bananas and the skin of a large yellow mango lying in the sand. He must have carried his breakfast with him. She fixed her gaze on the fruit remnants as she tried to summon some semblance of her characteristic composure.
“Captain…I…You won’t catch much this far in from the reef,” she finished lamely, losing her nerve.
He studied her for an uncomfortable moment longer before he spoke. “I plan to take a ketch out later. But I don’t expect you rode all the way here to advise me about the sport.”
“No, I… I came to ask you a question.” She hesitated.
“Yes?” Kyle prompted.
“I should like to know… if you would marry me.”
“Good God.” The words were exhaled slowly, but otherwise, he simply stared at her.
Somewhat heartened that she hadn’t been refused outright, Selena went on. “Before you give me your answer, perhaps I should mention that my father left me a substantial inheritance. The Markham plantation has a thousand acres of prime soil, a modest size, perhaps, but highly productive. It’s rare that we don’t yield at least 350 hogsheads of sugar and 200 puncheons of rum in a year. My stepmother owns the house, however, so we would have to build one of our own—”
“Hold it, Miss Markham,” Kyle interrupted, quickly raising a hand. “Just…hold it. Perhaps you’ll forgive me if under the circumstances I don’t know the appropriate response… I expect I’m supposed to say that I’m honored but must respectfully decline your offer.”
Selena raised her gaze then, her blue eyes searching his face. “The plantation is worth fifty thousand pounds sterling, Captain.”
Kyle shook his head. It always took him aback, the way British aristocrats saw marriage as such a cold-blooded business arrangement. “You want me to marry you for your
money,
is that it?”
Seeing how one heavy eyebrow had shot up in surprise, she flushed. “No…I merely thought a large dowry would make marriage to me more palatable.”
“I already have one plantation too many, Miss Markham. I don’t want the responsibility for another.”
This was news to Selena, but she plunged bravely ahead. “You needn’t worry about the responsibility. I’m capable of seeing to it on my own. I’ve done so adequately for the past two years, with the help of an excellent factor.”
Kyle shook his head again dazedly. He should have rounded up his crew at first light and sailed with the tide, as his instincts had warned him. “I’m too old for you,” he countered somewhat desperately, momentarily forgetting that her betrothed was a great deal older. “I must have a dozen years on you.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“I have twenty-four years to my credit, Captain. So there are only nine separating us.”
He took a deep breath, praying he would wake up and discover this was part of some strange dream. “Why are you so intent on marrying me? I thought you already were betrothed.”
Uncomfortable with both the question and the penetrating look in his hazel eyes, Selena averted her gaze, fixing it on a row of towering palms farther down the beach. In spite of her prior intimacy with Captain Ramsey, he was still a stranger, and she found it difficult to discuss her present circumstances with him. How
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