She sensed the answer was not in growling at him. ‘Mr King is flying, can you not see, Mr Xavier?’ She gave Mr Xavier a loaded glance. ‘Put your arms out too. Isn’t it wonderful?’
Serena took two hesitant steps toward Mr King and pressed a hand across her heart. ‘Mr King, I must say, though this is exhilarating, I am quite frightened. Will you come and hold my hand?’
She was taking advantage of his affection for her, she knew, but she needed to get him to safety. And so did Mr Xavier.
Almost carelessly, Mr King spun away from the precipice and closed the distance between them, taking both of her hands in his. ‘Always, my dear.’
His fierce gaze locked on hers until a large drop splashed on their clasped hands, soon followed by another.
‘Race you back to the house.’ Mr Xavier seemed to take his cues of misdirection from Serena and bolted to his horse.
Mr King needed no further encouragement. Without releasing her hand, he darted for the curricle. Serena kept up as best she could, only relieved that they had averted a disaster.
19
Serena stared out the window at the linen now sagging on the line with rain. The washing was wetter now than before she fed it through the wringer. She pressed her hand flat up against the glass pane as rivulets streamed down the other side. What had just happened?
Aside from the hair-raising, hell-for-leather flight for Aleron house, which Mr King won by a breath. Aside from the way Mr King spun her in a jig at the joy of the win. And aside from the hard rain that pelted them, or the whispered thanks from Mr Xavier as they darted for the cover of the house.
More than all of that, the experience on the cliff top had ruptured her equilibrium. Serena wiped at a droplet of water that even now trickled from her hair. Something had shifted within her. In that moment when it seemed Mr King might topple over the edge and plunge to his death, something deep inside screamed for a halt to his fall. The world should not be robbed of a man so full of life, enthusiasm and vibrancy. No, it was more than that. She herself—Serena Bellingham—did not wish to be robbed of him. He was like a living rainbow to her. Life without him would become colourless. For surely, before she knew him it had been naught but blanched.
Yes, Edward King was overbearing at times, and proud, even arrogant and improper. But for all that, he was a charming, passionate man to whom she would like to belong. As he teetered on the precipice for less than a second, her confusion and doubt became certainty. If he asked her now, in this moment, to be his wife, she would be tempted to say yes.
Serena started at a clap of thunder that cracked right overhead. Even the walls shuddered at the sound. Shaking herself free of her reverie, she made her way toward her room. Wind howled around the gables as rain hissed and thunder rolled. At times like these she sent thanks to God for a roof over her head and a warm hearth, even if they weren’t in her own home. How would Papa and her sisters fare in this weather? She could imagine the little cottage rattling and shaking through the storm. They probably feared the roof would leak. Keep them safe, Lord.
She halted in her walk and turned her head. What was that? A high-pitched noise. Was it someone crying out for help? Serena stood still and listened. It was faint against the cacophony that drowned out her own footsteps. No, there it was again, a strangled cry. Who was so troubled? Was someone stuck outside in the squall? Serena hurried in the direction she thought the sound came from, although finding direction in this noise was ambiguous at best.
When she arrived back at the main entryway she faltered. From which way had the sound come? She strained her ears, but there were no more cries. Serena fiddled with the damp tendrils of hair which stuck to her neck, turning this way then that in confusion.
Just as she was about to decide, Mr Xavier appeared from around a corner, breathless. When he saw her, he straightened his coat and slowed his steps, flashing her an uncertain smile. ‘Have you not changed yet? You’ll catch a chill.’
Serena let her gaze travel over his wet coat. ‘As will you.’
Mr Xavier shuffled his feet and dipped his head. ‘I had an urgent task to complete as soon as I returned. Mother insisted.’
Serena nodded then remembered her mission. ‘Did you hear someone crying out? I came to help.’
‘You did?’ Mr Xavier’s eyes widened, and he looked over his shoulder and then in each direction before shrugging. ‘This storm is deafening. Are you sure it wasn’t the wind howling?’
‘No. I’m certain it was something else.’
Mr Xavier listened again. ‘Well, it’s not there now. Perhaps an owl, or even a fox.’
Serena studied his face. Weren’t those animals nocturnal? It was the middle of the afternoon, even though a dark gloom descended with the menacing weather. It seemed odd that the usually sensitive Mr Xavier would shrug something off with such a cavalier attitude.
‘If you hear it again, come and tell me. We’ll search it out together.’ A half smile turned his mouth as though he realised how nonchalant he sounded and now tried to make up for it. ‘But for now, we should change our sodden garments.’
He turned to leave, but Serena reached toward him, almost taking him by the sleeve before she remembered decorum. ‘Wait. What happened out there? At the lighthouse.’ She shook her damp hair to clear her head. ‘That is, you seemed scared well-nigh
