Free The Wild Child by Mary Jo Putney

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    Chapter 6
    So far the voyage had been blessed with fine weather. Kyle was grateful for that, because Constancia was too frail to endure the bucking and twisting of stormy seas. This morning was calm, with just enough wind to fill the sails and drive them smoothly southward toward Spain. He’d brought her outside to the private rear deck, where they could gaze at the following gulls. She reclined on a chaise, eyes closed but a faint smile on her face. Her skin was tanning from the sun, creating an illusion of health. The rich warm tones of her complexion had always been part of her allure.
    “The light is different here,” she murmured. “In England it is cool and blue. Here it is warmer. Full of reds and yellows.”
    She was right, he realized. Strange. He’d always yearned to travel, yet he was oblivious to the sights of this trip. All his concentration was on her.
    In the same lazy tone, she said, “The girl in Shropshire who is to be your wife. What is she like?”
    He’d scarcely thought of Warfield, and what was happening there. He tried to remember his impressions of Lady Meriel. “Small. Colorless.” His mouth twisted without humor. “And very, very rich.”
    Constancia’s eyes opened. “It sounds as if you do not like her.”
    “I scarcely know her. People like me are not supposed to have strong feelings about whom we marry. My life belongs to Wrexham.” He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, with little success.
    “Nonsense. No one can make you wed against your will. Surely you should have at least some fondness for the girl who will be your wife.” Constancia frowned. “Though I cannot imagine she will not notice when her current suitor becomes someone else at your next meeting. No twins are so identical that a future bride will not see the difference. Are you hoping she will become so angry she will refuse the marriage?”
    “She won’t notice.” He looked away from Constancia, knowing he shouldn’t say more. But the habit of honesty was impossible to break. “The girl isn’t right in the head.”
    Constancia caught her breath, shocked. “Kyle, you are going to marry a fool or a madwoman? Surely you will do nothing so absurd!”
    “Lady Meriel is neither. Merely… lost in her own world. Her uncle hopes that marriage may bring her more into normal life.”
    Constancia made an indescribable Spanish sound of disgust. “Perhaps you are the one who is mad, querido. To send the brother you despise to court a bride who is weak in the head! Madre de Dios, have you no concern for the rest of your life?”
    He stalked to the railing, bracing himself on the polished wood as he stared at the shifting seas. When his father had first broached the subject of Lady Meriel, marriage had seemed endurable because he would always have Constancia. Then her illness had struck, and nothing else mattered. Her voice gentling, Constancia asked, “Tell me of your brother, querido. You say he is irresponsible, and you never speak of him. Yet he is blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh. You shared the same womb. Surely he must be important to you.”
    “We probably had our first fight in our mother’s womb,” he said dryly. “The first, but certainly not the last.”
    “You have always been enemies?”
    He watched a gull plunge straight into the sea in pursuit of prey. After a long silence, he said, “No. Sometimes we were friends. Good friends.” He thought of nights curled up in the same bed, sharing stories and laughter. Dominic always knew how to laugh… His gut twisted at the memories.
    “What went wrong?” Her question was gentle as the sea breeze.
    It was no accident that he’d never mentioned Dominic to Constancia. Even with her, the topic of his brother had been too painful to discuss. But the time for secrets was past. “As children we were always together, running wild at Dornleigh, studying with the same tutor. Sometimes we skirmished, but it was never important. The trouble