On her way back to the manor, Maeve decided to take her time. If she arrived a bit late for dinner, no one would bother her about it. It wasn't as though she'd been eating much lately, anyway.
Her exploration of the estate had provided a modicum of distraction, as it always did, but now that she was about to return to reality, her anxieties were slowly making their way back into her mind. She'd been truthful with her mother when she'd said she was happy for Ailia, but she regretted how things were going between them. In two days, her twin would be married, and then off to live with her husband soon after. It was a shame that twenty-four years of closeness and love would end this way. With them barely even speaking.
Maeve wasn't even sure her sister still intended to have her by her side during the ceremony, as maid of honor. The likeliness of it was feeble, but since they hadn't discussed it, she gathered she was still meant to be her Twin's companion during the wedding.
Beneath her, Sleipnir had a slight jump, distracting her from her thoughts. Her mount wanted to run, having not had his fill of activity yet. Maeve bent forward to reassuringly pat the side of its powerful neck. The pelt there was barely humid, and she wondered if she should have demanded more of him. London had been rough on her riding abilities, too, and she didn't have as much stamina as she used to.
It turned out she'd found a passion for riding Lucian more than her horse.
Before her thoughts could wander any further into that direction, Maeve forced herself to think of something else, like the narrow path in the wood she would soon enter. But by the time her eyes sought the trees ahead, images of her lustful encounters with Lucian flashed before her eyes. The memories of them in their rawest, most sensuous moments triggered dormant needs to erupt within her.
She missed their talks, their exchanges, his mossy green eyes, the scar that adorned his face, the low tunes of his baritone voice... But she also missed being his, claiming him in her bed or his, offering him her body to do with as he pleased. It was as though he'd planted a need in her, one that never existed before, and now it wouldn't leave her no matter how hard she tried.
He'd introduced her to the pleasures of love and passion, and her body demanded its fill of it. Sometimes, in the darkest hours of the night, she found herself missing him, reminiscent of their nocturnal adventures. Three times now, she'd send her hand below the covers and had touched herself the way he used to touch her, unable to hold back. With him on her mind, she'd found momentary bliss through her ecstatic releases. But those moments had been short-lived, and tears never failed to follow as she was reminded that this would be her life from then on.
Loving and desiring a man she was forbidden to have. One she was ashamed to need so much.
Scolding herself for being such a pathetic idiot, she adjusted her position on the saddle, trying to quench the need awaking in her center. From now on, Sleipnir would be the only being she'd welcome between her legs. No more men, no more nothing. She'd messed up once, she wouldn't do it again. Not ever.
They entered the woods, which meant there were about two and a half miles left until she was back at the manor. The thought made her sigh heavily.
When Sleipnir's ear turned to the side, Maeve didn't pay much attention to it, as he often heard noises she didn't. But when he had another impatient jerk, along with an enthusiastic neigh, she turned around to see what might trigger such a reaction in him. To her surprise, she noticed another rider following a path parallel to hers. Both paths actually joined in about a hundred yards, so she'd see soon enough who it was. Probably one of the guests they were expecting for Ailia's wedding. From where she was, the trees and bushes prevented her from seeing which one exactly, but she didn't really care.
She paid the horseman no further mind, continuing her quiet journey back to the manor. The distance between her and the newcomer grew narrower as they progressed along their respective paths, and she eventually turned to the man again, once the visibility was clearer.
The utter shock she experienced when she saw the stranger's face punched the air out of her lungs and dropped her heart low in her stomach. It was impossible... It couldn't be him, he couldn't possibly be there. She must have been dreaming of him again, as she'd done nearly every night for three weeks.
Aghast, she kept her eyes on Lucian's profile, wondering what sort of trick her mind was playing on her this time. He'd never felt so real in her dreams before, so sharply himself, so precisely accurate. Sleipnir neighed again, and the mount below Lucian, Minerva, answered with equal enthusiasm. The two of them had grown fond of one another, often spending time together whenever Maeve was visiting her former lover.
That alerted the ghost of Lucian that her mind had conjured, and he turned his attention toward her, noticing her presence for the first time. His eyes widened as hers must have had, and she saw the shock all over his beloved features. Before she could do anything, he stirred his horse out of his path to head her way, and panic overflew her.
No, this couldn't be happening. If it was truly him, she couldn't allow this, couldn't have another illicit encounter with him. Not when the previous ones had brought so much ruin to her and her family. With her heart hammering into her chest like a war drum, she spurred Sleipnir into a hasty gallop.
"Maeve!" Lucian shouted the instant her horse launched himself on the narrow path.
She ignored him, dismissed the call, and focused on escaping him. Despite the pulsing of her blood in her ears, and the sounds of the hooves beneath her, she heard Minerva's galloping rhythm to her right. When she dared to glimpse their way, she saw Lucian had returned to his path and was racing after her, adamant to catch up.
Her heels dug into her mount's flanks as she pushed him to go faster. Sleipnir obeyed, picking up at a faster pace and elongating his head forward. Just like him, she leaned toward the front. She wouldn't lose this race. She couldn't. Whatever was the reason for Lucian to be here, she couldn't hear it.
He'd betrayed her, broken her, and hurt her whole family. He didn't deserve her forgiveness. And if she let him talk, if she granted him even just a minute of her time, she would. God forgive her, she would forgive him. One tender look from his beautiful eyes, one plea of his raspy voice, one touch of his deft hands... and she'd give him all he wanted. Because he made her weak like that, starving for his love and affection.
The paths got closer and closer, until it felt like he was right there with her, almost at arm's length. She reached the crossing barely before him, and now that the way was broader, she dared to push Sleipnir harder. Behind her, Lucian called her again, but she ignored him once more. Small branches were in the way at certain turns, whipping her arms and legs. One of them slashed her across the cheek, spreading warmth on her skin. She didn't even check to see if she'd been injured, too focused on the path ahead.
They rode at neck-breaking speed through the woods, racing one another as if their lives depended on it. Her corset was too tight for this, and she could barely breathe, her lungs confined by fabric, metal, and strings. But this time, she was riding astride, which granted her an advantage compared to the race they'd had in Hyde Park. Or at least, it put her on the same level as him, instead of being at a disadvantage.
When she passed her sibling's treehouse, relief filled her heart. She was almost at the clearing that led to the lake, and Lucian was quite a few yards behind. Soon, the manor would be in view, and he'd have to stop chasing her.
The incentive had her spurring her mount yet again, and the entirety of her attention turned to the clearing she could already see. She ignored the burning sensation in her overworked thighs, the way her dress hiked up her legs, the shortness of her breath, the muffled sounds of Sleipnir's hooves on the dirt... She could only see her salvation. So, so close.
She had to win; she had to escape him. For so many reasons, but mostly for her family. Had it only been her, she would have allowed herself to fall back into Lucian's arms. He'd become a need as important as air to her. But that would mean betraying everyone else she loved, and that... That she refused to do.
Finally, the surrounding forest cleared out, and only then did she sense the tears on her cheeks. She kept the pace until she could see the manor, and then looked back to see if Lucian had given up on his attempt to catch her.
Her heart conflictingly tightened when she saw no traces of him. Sometime between now and the treehouse, he must have abandoned the chase. As she pulled on the reins to slow her horse, Maeve reflected on the sadness that gained her.
What was wrong with her? Why must her heart and her head always tear her in a different direction? Wanting Lucian but knowing better was the most exhausting thing she'd ever endured.
When Sleipnir had slowed to a walk, she focused on calming her panting breath. Her heart was slamming under her ribs, aching painfully — which wasn't only caused by the race. This time, when she patted her mount's neck, she found it drenched in sweat, probably as much as she was.
"You did good, Sleip. Thank you."
To give herself some time to recover before she reached the stables, Maeve followed the side of the lake at a lazy pace, replaying the events that had just occurred in her head.
Had it really happened? Was Lucian truly here? Had he chased after her, even after everything he'd done? Even if she'd told him to never come back?
As if to confirm it all, the man in the flesh abruptly burst out of the forest on Minerva, more daring than she'd thought he'd be. Frightened, her horse reared up with a protest. Instinctively, she tightened her legs around him and held onto his mane to keep her balance. Sleipnir kicked the air with his front hooves, but Lucian remained unfazed, too comfortable around a horse to be intimidated. As soon as the animal was down again with a heavy 'thud', Lucian firmly grabbed the reins under Sleipnir's jaw to prevent the escape Maeve was already considering.
Out of danger from an unfortunate fall, she allowed herself to glimpse at the man, her pulse wreaking havoc once more. Seeing him tore her heart in half. He was truly here, actually real, as mighty and alluring as he'd always been. But he wasn't entirely the same either, his chiseled features even sharper than they'd been before, which somehow accentuated his scar. Food must have lost its appeal for him, just like it had for her.
"You are an even better rider than I thought," were his first words.
"Have you gone completely mad?! You cannot be here, Lucian!"
"Maeve, I— I need to speak with you."
"I don't want you to." To her distress, her voice was already growing weak, trembling, and uneven. Seeing him was bringing it all back, the love and the longing, but also the betrayal and the heartbreak. "Please, leave... I can't—"
She tried to retake control of her mount while spurring him with her heels, but Lucian easily countered it, bringing his hand down and the reins with it.
"Maeve, darling, you have to listen to me," he insisted. The endearment brought a new surge of tears to her eyes.
Before he could continue, voices came to them. Fear crawled under her skin as she recognized them. Her siblings were close by, seemingly heading their way. If they saw her with him, they would assume she was here of her own will, like an illicit encounter. That would only bring more anger and suspicions on her, and she couldn't bear the idea. Her relationship with her parents was just getting better, and having to start all over would wreck her.
"Leave now," she ordered. "If they see you— Lucian please, go!"
He hesitated, glancing toward the voices. "We passed a treehouse on our way here," he declared instead. "Meet me there tonight. At midnight."
"How dare you ask this of me? I'm not meeting you anywhere. Leave!"
"You still owe me an hour, Maeve. It's been over two months. I'm demanding it now."
Shock rendered her mute as she all but stared at him. Was he seriously expecting her to uphold the forfeit of their bet? After everything he'd done, he thought he had the right to demand it?
"You're mad. You've gone completely mad," she let out, her voice not much more than a whisper.
"Being away from you has done that to me," he admitted with a humorless chuckle.
He released her reins and came closer to her, so they were facing each other side by side. He raised a delicate hand toward her face, and with a tender graze of his thumb, he brushed her cheek where the branch had whipped her. His touch was inflaming her, reminding her of how much she loved it when he caressed her with his powerful hands. Oh, how she missed him...
His eyes fell to her parted lips, and with the slightest gesture, he bent her way. Air remained stuck in her throat as she waited, longed even, for the kiss he was considering. She wanted it. Despite everything, she wanted his lips on hers.
He stopped his descent, though, his thumb still on her cheek. "One hour, at midnight, in the treehouse," he insisted, giving her one last yearning caress.
She was still trying to sort her thoughts out when he left her alone, confused and disheartened. He was still in view when Liam called out her name.
"Vee, where have you been?!" he asked with authority.
They were all here but Rosie, and she looked down at her siblings with embarrassment. It seemed they were here to fish, each holding their rod, while Cam carried the box with the supplies. When she met her twin's eyes, the judgment Maeve read in them made it clear she'd been right. This unwanted encounter with Lucian would bring her nothing but troubles.
"Who was that?" Ailia asked, her tone acerbic.
"It was— Someone who was lost. The man just needed some guidance to get to Leeds."
Given the way Ailia's eyebrow was raised, it wasn't hard to guess the lie hadn't been bought.
"Mother decided to delay dinner since some of the guests haven't arrived yet," Manning explained, oblivious to the tension between the twins. "So we thought we'd enjoy the last of the sun to fish. We don't have a rod for you, but you can have mine if you want," he kindly offered.
After one last look at her angered sister, Maeve shook her head with a forced smile. "Thank you, blondie, but I'd rather go back home. Sleip needs some rest, and I need a bath before dinner." A few of her siblings tried to change her mind, but she maintained her ground. Before long, she was on her way toward the manor again.
Free of distractions, her mind instantly returned to Lucian.
What would she do about him? She couldn't possibly comply with his demand and meet him in the treehouse in the middle of the night. Whatever it was he wanted to talk about, it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught. Ailia's attitude right now was all the confirmation she needed to know it would be a terrible thing.
Although brief, their encounter had shaken her to her core. Lucian, her Lucian, had come all the way here. He missed her as much as she missed him, and he wanted to talk to her urgently.
Being away from you has done that to me...
Torn and confused, Maeve spent the entire ride to the stable reminding herself of why she couldn't go to him. No matter what he said, even if he managed to make her change her mind, she couldn't forgive what he'd done. She loved her family too much to do such a thing.
So, what would be the point in meeting him tonight? What purpose would it serve other than break her heart even more? To cause another scandal the day before Ailia's wedding?
No, she couldn't. She mustn't. For her sake and her family's sake, she mustn't go to Lucian tonight.