“Are you subtly implying that I may have caused offense to William Goodwin this afternoon when we were introduced?”
My face fell. “I don’t know. It’s not like him to be that easily offended.”
“His mood obviously soured once I came over. Personally, I think it has more to do with his being madly in love with you than a simple mistake over title.”
“That’s preposterous. William and I grew up together. I think I would know if he were in love with me.” By now I had completely given up on the game and simply moved pieces about at random.
“Selah, if looks could kill, I would have been struck dead this very afternoon,” he laughed. “William loves you, and I’m surprised you could be so obtuse to his feelings when they are written plain as day on his face. Has he never offered any hints of his affection or tried to kiss you?”
My face grew warm from the question, and I felt rather annoyed by how much Henry seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, tell the truth,” he prodded, “for I can tell something happened.”
I lifted my chin defiantly. “Yes, he kissed me once.”
“So I guessed. Now tell me this, was it a chaste peck on the cheek or did he dare a real lover’s kiss on that lovely mouth of yours?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I laughed. Little did he know that I would have chosen to boil in oil before admitting that he was the only man who had ever kissed me any place other than my cheek.
I expected some clever retort when the humor left his face. “Yes, I would like to know. Do you love him?”
“William Goodwin?” I asked, startled by the change. “Of all the ideas!”
Henry stared at me, the chess game entirely forgotten. His emotions were usually so well guarded, I didn’t know what to make of the stark anticipation in his eyes or why I suddenly felt off-kilter. Why would he care if I loved William Goodwin?
“Do you love him, Selah?” he asked again.
“William and I are good friends, nothing more. There was a time I may have imagined stronger feelings for him, but it would never have worked between us.”
Henry’s face relaxed. “Did you ever tell me why it was so important to have your cousin shipped over from Ireland instead of choosing a husband from the local population? I’ve seen several good-looking fellows while out with Ben. Why didn’t you just take one of them and spare yourself the trouble?”
Unease moved though me, and my heart began to beat more quickly. Biting my lip, I dropped my eyes and pretended to study the chessboard.
Because anyone else who found out about my gift would have me arrested and possibly hanged for witchcraft. Unless, of course, I refused my birthright and never again drew upon my power since it would be impossible to keep such a secret from any husband.
Or so my mother had told me. Since first discovering the truth, I’d managed to keep it secret from even my dearest friend and didn’t know why a husband would be any different. But my mother had been adamant on the subject, only telling me that one day I would better understand.
“The Kilbrids have always been a tight-knit family,” I said, effectively summing up my thoughts.
“Only a Kilbrid then?”
“My mother was a MacBres, so I could have married one of them if I’d wanted to, but my father thought Samuel and I would get along well together.”
“Had you ever met Mr. Kilbrid before you were sent to get him from the docks?”
“Not directly.”
“What does that mean, not directly?”
“We exchanged some letters, and I found him to be most pleasing.”
“Why do I feel there is more to this story than you’re telling me?” He leaned closer across the table, upsetting some of the chess pieces with an errant elbow and drawing my eyes back to his. “Is there some dark Kilbrid secret you are hiding?”
My heart thumped into my ribs. By sheer will, I kept my eyes on the level and forced a laugh. “You are full of all kinds of strange ideas tonight. Now, if you’re done dramatizing my rather dull existence, I’ll tell you something amusing that happened today.” In near torment, I waited for him to decide whether or not to let it go.
“Very well.” He sat back up and replaced the toppled pieces to the correct squares. “Tell me what is so amusing.”
“While I was visiting with Anne Boyle and Mrs. Oswald, it became quite clear that most, if not all of Hopewell, knows we are sleeping in separate chambers.”
His brows furrowed deeply and he didn’t seem to be enjoying the news so much as I had hoped. “Splendid,” he said, his voice verging on sarcasm. “I am amused beyond measure to have most, if not all of Hopewell, believing me incapable of bedding my wife.”
Once I had gotten beyond my own humiliation, I hadn’t really bothered to give his much more thought. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Henry, but our sleeping arrangements practically prove that I’m not a witch.”