Chapter 5

Selina awoke, flushed, with the dream holding onto her. She could feel Arthur's kisses still, smell the sylvan depths of the dell. It took a moment before she realized that she was not there. She stared blankly at the high ceiling above her, then at the window with drawn curtains, chinks of bright daylight shining around the edges. A sound drew her attention to a maid sitting on a chair beside the bed. The maid was putting aside some sewing needles and rising to lean over her.

"How are you feeling, Miss? Any better?"

Selina realized that her mouth was dry, for her reply came out as a croak. The maid fetched a glass of water from a pitcher on a bedside table. Selina drank gratefully, the maid helping her to sit up and plumping the pillows behind her. She felt as weak as a kitten, thirsty and ravenously hungry.

"Have I been ill?" she asked.

"I should say, Miss," the maid replied, "bedridden with a fever for the last two days."

Selina frowned, struggling to remember what had happened to her. Her thoughts were slow, recollection sluggish.

"My, that looks nasty, Miss. Did you do that falling from your horse?" the maid said.

She was looking at Selina's left cheek. When Selina touched her face there, she felt a stab of pain. Her mind sharpened. She remembered the backhand blow struck by the Duke of Christleton while her father looked on.

Then I ran. To Valebridge. To…

"Where is Arthur?" Selina asked suddenly, "I mean, His Grace, the Duke of Valebridge."

"I doubt he'll have time to see you just now, Miss. His Grace has been keeping watch over you himself these past two days. Not let anyone near without his oversight. But he is getting ready for the ball this evening," the maid said.

"Could you ask? Please?" Selina said plaintively.

"Of course, Miss," the maid replied, "there's a tray of food here and some wine which the doctor said you should drink to recover your strength. I can ask if His Grace is available, though I cannot promise you much."

With that, the kindly woman left the room, leaving a tray on the side of Selina's bed. It contained fruit, bread, cheese, cold meat as well as a decanter of deep red wine and a glass. She helped herself to the food and poured out a glass of wine, sipping it appreciatively. She could almost feel her strength returning to her. So much so, that she decided to get out of bed and look around at her new surroundings.

I barely remember Valebridge at all. I think we came here perhaps once or twice. Arthur usually preferred to come to me at Grandmama's.

The room was sparse, bearing only a bed, sideboard, ottoman, and a large wardrobe. These items did nothing to fill the space, most of which was empty. The floor was bare except for a rug on which the bed was placed. The walls were papered but the design had faded. She found herself at the window. It faced west into the molten gold of a spectacular sunset. She could see the looming, dark slopes of the Downs, mottled with woods in the creases between hills.

The door behind her opened and she turned. Arthur stood there, one hand on the doorknob and eyes wide as he took her in. She realized that she stood before him in her nightdress and felt her face blaze with the heat of embarrassment. She made a vain attempt to cover herself, the lurid dream still vivid in her mind. A strangled yelp came from her throat, and she tried to dash back to the bed. But her newly recovered strength was not up to it.

Her knees buckled and she fell. But Arthur must have seen the weakness coming. He moved swiftly and was there to catch her before she struck the hardwood of the floor. He was kneeling, holding her in his arms, their faces mere inches apart. Arthur was resplendent in a coat of the deepest purple, a waistcoat of pale blue, and a cream cravat held in place by a sapphire pin. It caught the light of the setting sun, and it seemed as though there was a fire burning deep within it.

A scent reached Selina that was both spicy and musky. It was overwhelmingly masculine. For a moment, all she could do was gaze at the dark-eyed face. The same face she had seen in her dreams, down to the pale white scar on his jaw.

"Where did you get that?" she mumbled, her head reeling.

Arthur frowned. "A… a fall from a horse in my youth. The edge of the hoof caught me."

"Not a duel?" Selina asked, not fully aware of what she was saying.

"Duel?" Arthur replied, confused, "I've never fought a duel in my life."

Selina rested her head on his shoulder, suddenly tired. Her hand rested on his chest, which felt as solid as iron. She wanted to dig in with her fingertips, to feel the muscle there. Wanted to run her hand down his chest and over his ribs, experience the lean tautness of his body. Her lips were so close to his cheek that she could have touched him by pursing them just a little.

The lean, slender youth that she had loved so dearly had become a strong, powerful man. His dark brows were drawn down and his mouth set as he looked at her. She remembered the wild, dark curls and, before she realized what she was doing, she reached up to wrap a lock around her finger. It felt silky and soft.

"I used to love playing with your hair. Do you remember, Arthur?" Selina muttered.

Her consciousness was swimming in and out of the dream, her focus waning with the physical strength of her body. Arthur hesitated, perhaps casting his mind back. Perhaps there had been many women since their youthful love. It was only to be expected.

"Of course, I do," he finally replied.

"On the Downs. Do you remember our secret dell? And the stone?" Selina murmured.

"Yes, I do, Now, I think I should put you to bed," Arthur said.

Selina didn't protest as he lifted her without apparent effort and carried her to the bed. After gently laying her down, he gathered the bedclothes. She had a strange memory of lying in bed under a curtain but supposed that must have been another dream. There was a flush of color in his cheeks and his lips were parted, breath coming quick and short. He bit at his lower lip, and she recognized the gesture.

Arthur had always done that when excited or anxious. Wanting to soothe him, she reached up and put her hand against his cheek. The hardline of the scar was beneath the heel of her hand. On impulse and with the last of her strength, she raised her head and kissed it. The kiss was gentle and lingering. When she pulled away, he was staring at her, his eyes locked upon hers. Impulsively, he kissed her lips.

Selina's head spun as her eyes closed. Rapture flooded her and she wrapped her arms about his neck, one hand tangling into the dark curls. His lips were hot and firm, pressed against hers with an insistence that would not be denied. His scent filled her head. Reality and dreamscape collided and merged like the watercolor paint in the rain. The pillow embraced her head as she slowly fell back without losing contact with Arthur's lips.

The weight of him pressing down on her was intensely exciting. She clung to his broad, powerful shoulders and marveled at the strength she felt in those solid muscles. She ran her hands down his back, spreading her fingers and exploring the slabs of muscle she found.

He was a veritable Hercules, a demi-god. She did not know that Englishmen could be proportioned so. As she explored him, he did the same to her. His hands glided from her shoulders, down her arms, pinning them to her sides. He took hold of her waist and then his touch moved back up until those unyielding hands rose up over the swell of her breasts.

Selina wanted to rip herself free of the fabric that separated her from her lover. Reunited after so long and with their former passion unquenched. No, Arthur had never shown this kind of fiery, insatiable need when they were young. Now he seemed hungry for her. Ravenous even. His lips sought hers ferociously. She lifted her head to pursue his kisses, biting at his lower lip and making him gasp. That sound made her squeak as a wave of intoxicating desire swept through her.

The idea that she had brought him to the point of weakness that he cried out was enough to make her dizzy.

Then he was pulling back, a look of shock on his face.

"Forgive me…Miss…forgive me. I do not know what came over me. I should not have…"

But the excitement had been too much for Selina. She smiled as sleep rolled over her.