Chapter 23

The game is up. She knows the truth. Damnation! Now that she knows, she will run. I wanted longer with her. I wanted to make her love me for me, not the shade of my brother!

Wind danced back a few steps under pressure from Selina's knees. She was staring at Marcus but twitching the reins so that more of Wind's body stood between her rider and Marcus. He sat still, reins slack in his hand. Windermere sensed something amiss, just as his counterpart did. Both animals looked ready to gallop at a moment's notice from whatever the danger was that their humans had sensed. Marcus felt a deep upwelling of sorrow. There was a cold emptiness in his stomach, a sense of loss that could never be filled. He had agreed to marry Selina because she had loved his brother and was in need of help. He had now realized that there was another reason.

I agreed to marry this complete stranger because from the first moment that she opened her eyes and looked at me, I wanted her.

A feeling of intense jealousy suddenly exploded within him. Jealousy that his brother had won her heart and Marcus would not be given the chance. Jealousy that the man who had degraded himself, according to the account of their father, in alcohol and opium, should prove the better man at winning Selina's heart, purely because of his comfortable upbringing.

If he was such a bloody hero, then why did he not marry her? Because our mother and father would have blocked it and he lacked the backbone to stand up to them. Damnation! I am the better man!

There came the sound, from down the road, of a coach. Marcus looked in that direction, remembering Voss and his servants. In the moment that he turned away, Selina kicked Wind into motion. The mare leaped from a standing start and was galloping within a few strides. Marcus cursed under his breath, turning Windermere and taking off in pursuit.

"Wait! Selina! Wait! I mean you no harm!" he shouted.

Selina looked back over her shoulder at him, golden hair streaming behind her like a banner. Her blue eyes were wide, her face set with determination. They raced across the hillside, angling upwards. Wind vaulted a stream and Windermere followed without missing a beat. Selina was pulling ahead, her horse had not been pushed as hard as Marcus'. Had not already run a race just a few minutes earlier. They crested the hill, Selina disappearing from sight for a good half a minute before Marcus reached the summit himself. Looking around for a moment, he saw her below, fifty yards away. He reined in Windermere, patting the animal's neck and dismounting. Next time she looked around she would see him standing there, not pursuing. Perhaps that would calm her and persuade her to end her own dashing flight.

Below, the hillside fell away into a gentle slope of grass and heather, then into a vale formed by the conjunction of three other hills. A stream babbled down from the height that Marcus stood upon, forming a pool in the heart of that vale. A path wound up the hillside opposite, bordered by a dry stone wall on one side as it snaked backward and forward. A tumbledown stone structure stood beside the pool, a stone wall marking out a small plot of land beside it, a rundown cottage. A tree was growing up through the broken roof and out of one of two windows in the cottage's front face. There was no sign of movement other than Selina. Marcus' heart leaped as he saw her beginning to slow. By the time she reached the pool, Wind was walking. Then the animal stopped entirely, dropping its head to drink.

Selina looked back over her shoulder. It was too far away to see her eyes or the expression on her face. But she seemed to be looking at him for a long time, golden hair gently waving in a breeze that came down from the hilltops to swirl around at their feet. Marcus wetted his lips, feeling his heart race in anticipation. He nudged Windermere into a walk, beginning to descend the hill towards Selina. Not once did he take his eyes from her, though she presently turned her back on him to dismount. She led Wind by the reins towards the house and into the stone-walled pen, through a rotted, leaning gate. She left the horse to graze as she went to the house. Then she sat down on the grass before it, hugging her knees to her chest and waiting.

Marcus put Windermere into the same pen and then sat next to Selina. He was within reach of her but did not try to touch her, not wanting to set her running again. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Never had he wanted to touch her more. The space of six inches between them was both a small distance and a yawning chasm. He could almost feel the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin. As he was wondering where to begin, Selina spoke.

"I mistook you for Arthur to begin with. You never corrected me but I am not sure that you ever explicitly said you were Arthur. I suppose it does not matter. You answered to the name."

"I did," Marcus said.

"At first I thought this must be some cruel game at my expense. That you and your household were all laughing at me. But, they don't know, do they? That is why you replaced all of your father's staff. Because they would have known that you weren't Arthur."

"Yes," Marcus replied simply.

"In heaven's name, why?" Selina asked.

She turned to look at him and he turned to her. Their eyes met and it was as though they were flint and tinder. Marcus could feel the sparks flying between them. There was an intensity in her stare that could have been anger or it could have been passion. Or a combination of the two. She was not moving away from him and had placed her hands to the ground, tugging at the grass, no longer wrapped around herself like a shield. Marcus saw the color blooming in her smooth cheeks and the heaving of her bosom. He could see the passion in her face and felt his hope surge that all might not be lost.

"My father wrote to me to tell me that I was the intended heir, though my brother was officially older. He told me that my brother had degraded himself," Marcus swallowed, seeing the flash of indignation in Selina's face, "I do not know the truth of it but he summoned me because he knew he was dying and wanted me to take the Dukedom. He was dead by the time I arrived. Arthur was, according to my father, also dead, but I found a letter from him. It advised me to take the name and inherit the Dukedom. To become Arthur Roy."

"But why?" Selina asked again.

"I do not know. I have tried to discover more about my brother. Tried to discover what kind of man he was or why he would apparently give up his inheritance. If my father is to be believed…him and one other man, Arthur had fallen low. Perhaps he wanted me to restore his name. I had none for myself, you see."

"Because you were sent away?" Selina asked, compassion in her voice.

"Yes. I have not found a single piece of documented evidence that Marcus Roy ever lived. He erased me after sending me into exile. I do not know why."

Talking of such things produced a heavy weight in Marcus' chest. It was a weight he had carried within him since he was a boy. The rejection of his parents. As a man, that weight had been added to by the knowledge that his father had done his level best to forget he ever had a second son. That was until he was on his deathbed.

"I think my father might have had a change of heart as he lay dying. Decided to send for me and then…perhaps he planned to have me crowned before he went, with all the proofs of my identity signed and sealed. But, I was too late."

"Spending your entire childhood believing that you were not wanted. You poor man," Selina whispered.

She put her hand to his arm, squeezing. The touch sent bolts of lightning through Marcus, making him feel nothing else but her gentle touch. He put his own hand atop hers and soon she had released his arm to intertwine her fingers with his. He looked at her and she smiled, hesitantly.

"I'm sorry I ran. It was an impulse. I panicked," Selina said.

"It is understandable," Marcus replied.

Selina moved closer until she could rest her head on his shoulder. Marcus put an arm about her shoulders and pressed his lips to her hair. He breathed in, savoring the scent of her. Her cheek upon his shoulder was the touch of heaven. Her hand in his was a sensation after which he would have been quite content to die. Selina's shoulders felt as slender and fragile as a bird. They felt dwarfed by Marcus' arm and hand.

"I suspected. Little things like the scar. Some things you said. Then I did a very immoral thing. I sent Mr. Beveridge on an errand so I could look through his study. I found a journal."

Marcus nodded. He knew that Beveridge recorded everything but had never seen his journals. He imagined that they covered all the events leading to their arrival at Valebridge, efficiently and thoroughly.

"I suppose my father catching up with me was my punishment. The errand was to deliver a letter to Sawthorne inviting my father to the wedding. It was the only thing I could think of that Mr. Beveridge would not delegate to another servant."

Marcus laughed softly. "Very devious. You will be a real asset as Duchess…"

It had been a throwaway comment but he froze as soon as it left his lips. He was assuming that she still wanted to marry him.

I can't expect that. I can't assume it. I lied to her, my proposal was based on that lie.

Selina shifted, lifting her head and he found himself looking down into her brilliant blue eyes. For a moment, they gazed at each other. Then he felt her fingers stroke the line of the scar on his jaw, and her lips pressed against his.