“It makes riding so much easier,” Selina told him.
“Selina! I forbid you to go with him! You are promised to…”
“To me. She is over the age of one-and-twenty and fully capable of consenting to marriage without your permission,” Arthur snapped.
He jumped lightly from the coach to the horse and then held out a hand for Selina. She ignored the help and neatly vaulted into the saddle behind him, wrapping her arms about his waist.
“This is…scandalous! Monstrous! It shall not stand!” her father roared, finally extricating himself with a long, nasty-sounding tearing of cloth. “Don’t just stand there you oafs! My daughter is being abducted!”
Arthur grinned, a wicked upturning of his mouth revealing teeth. Then he kicked his heels and the horse leaped for the two manservants. They threw themselves clear as Arthur and Selina sped away along the road.
“My horse is back this way!” Selina called into the wind of their passage.
They followed the road in its wide curve around the foot of the hill, retracing the passage of the coach a few minutes earlier. As they cleared the out-thrusting shoulder of land, Arthur pointed. Selina saw Wind munching calmly on grass in a field some fifty yards from the road. She looked up, ears twitching as Selina called to her and began to trot towards the road. Arthur slowed his mount to a trot until they were level with Wind. Selina held tightly to his waist, enjoying the feel of his back pressed hard against her breasts. Now she saw an opportunity to impress him. The hedge here was low and they were slowing to a walk, Wind keeping pace on the other side. Without warning, she deftly pushed herself up, placing her hands on the horse’s croup until she could put her feet onto the edge of the saddle.
Then she stepped across the hedge, one foot reaching out for Wind’s stirrup. For one horrifying moment, she thought Arthur was going to stop in shock, or move away. But, with one startled look, he seemed to realize what was needed and kept his horse steady. Selina leaned across, grabbing Wind’s pommel and then hauling herself over so that she stood with her right foot in Wind’s left stirrup, her left foot dangling. Holding onto the pommel with both hands, she twisted and vaulted into the saddle, picking up the reins and giving them a shake. She grinned at the look of shocked admiration on Arthur’s face as she urged Wind to a canter. He followed suit and soon they were racing each other on either side of the hedge.
Finally, she saw the gate that she had tied Wind to when she had stopped to look out over Folkington. She reined in and waited for Arthur to guide his own mount to stand next to her.
“You kept up well, not many can match Wind,” Selina said proudly.
“What a coincidence. This one’s name is Windermere,” Arthur said, “and not many can match him either.”
That name resonated with Selina. She remembered the journal belonging to Mr. Beveridge and the journey he had planned out within its pages.
“Why Windermere?” Selina asked.
Something in her voice made Arthur pause. He patted Windermere’s neck, whispered to the horse as it pranced restively. After a moment he looked up at Selina. She waited, patient on the outside and twisting in turmoil where she could not be seen. Was this the moment that her illusions were shattered? When Arthur confessed to being some confidence trickster? Some impostor?
“It is a beautiful place. One I am very fond of.”
“Did you ever live there?” Selina asked.
Arthur nodded, not looking away from her. Even in this moment of stress, of fear, Selina was enervated by those eyes. His gaze made her feel alive, full of excitement and energy. Those eyes made her acutely aware that she was a woman. He seemed to be taking her in, her body as well as her soul. The idea of his eyes on her body was almost as thrilling as the thought of his hands upon her.
“Yes, for many years.”
Selina swallowed, tightening her hands on the reins, though she did not know whether she intended to run away. The revelation felt close now, like a thundercloud looming on the horizon. The air felt tense with the lightning to come.
“I understood that you had lived your whole life at Valebridge with your father,” she said, “first as the son and heir of the Duke, then as his successor.”
“I was sent away when I was very young. My father rejected me. I was raised in the Lakes by a distant cousin of my father.”
“From what age?” Selina asked in a small voice.
“From about five or six,” Arthur answered.
“That is before I knew you. Before I knew Arthur,” Selina whispered.
The truth was revealed, though the man before her had not spoken its name, merely hinted at it. If he had been raised in the far north of England, then he could not have played with Selina as a child. Could not have become her best friend and then her first love. This man was not…
“I am not Arthur Roy,” the words sounded dead in the air.
Everything seemed still, or rather, Selina’s awareness had focused on the man next to her and his voice. She saw and heard nothing else.
“I am Marcus Roy. Arthur was my twin, hour-older brother. I swear to you upon my eternal soul, that is the truth.”
CHAPTER23
