Except that he doesn’t know who you are.
Ugh, the inner voice is right. I have to tell Andrew before anything else happens, no matter how much easier it would be to get swept away and put it off until later.
But it’s so scary. I don’t want to lose him, and I really don’t want him to hate me.
Stomach flipping with anxiety, I take a long swallow of fruity liquid courage, positive Andrew won’t mind sharing. At least, not nearly as much as he’ll mind all the other sins I have to confess.
I’m screwing the lid back on when I realize I’m not alone.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Andrew standing stock-still on the path, and I jump, pressing a hand to my chest. “God, you scared me,” I say with a laugh, lifting the flask his way. “I picked up your coat, and this fell out. It smelled so good, I had to try a sip.”
He doesn’t say a word, just watches me with a wary, worried expression I don’t understand.
“Are you all right?” I start toward him, but he stops me with a hand in the air.
“You drank it?”
I nod, fear bubbling up in my chest. “Yes, I did. Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he says, his face going pale. “You tell me.”
Positive now that something’s gone south, but having no clue what, I shake my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“How do you feel?” he asks softly.
“I feel…fine.” I lift my shoulders and let them fall. My stomach aches a little, but it isn’t the rum.
It’s the way Andrew’s looking at me like I’m suddenly a stranger, like…
Oh, no…
The fruit smell mixed with the rum…
I should have remembered that I’m supposed to be Lizzy. And Lizzy would never drink anything fruity-smelling without having an exact list of ingredients first. Andrew must know there’s something in there that Lizzy shouldn’t be able to drink.
Which means he knows.
“Andrew, wait,” I beg. “I can explain, I promise.”
But he’s already gone, spinning on his heel and sprinting away from me so fast I know that it’s over.
I’ve lost him.
Maybe forever.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Andrew
The wind is blowing so hard the poles holding up the tents lean at a thirty-degree angle and the heavy cloth napkins set out with each tray of food are escaping their assigned laps to roll across the grass.
There’s no way a helicopter is taking off in this weather.
I could send Sabrina home by car, but it will be dark soon, and the mountain passes are notoriously dangerous at night. Dozens of people roll to their deaths off those roads every year, and I care too much about her to risk her life simply because I can’t stand to look at her face for another second.
But I can’t.
Not another second.
I race past the people eating, drinking, and laughing—all of them blissfully unaware that the engagement they’re celebrating is a fucking joke—and head for the horses. Dimly, I’m aware of Sabrina calling my name behind me, but I ignore her, swinging up onto Barcelona’s back and taking off down the trail away from the castle at a gallop.
I have no fucking idea where I’m going.
Just away.
Away from the party.
Away from my family.
Away from the girl, the one I was falling in love with, the one who is just another lie.
Fuck, I can’t believe it. Even though I expected it, even though part of me was already positive I had the wrong sister, having it proven beyond a shadow of a doubt still throws me for some reason.
I just wanted so badly for things to be different. I wanted to go home with her tonight. I wanted sneak down to her bedroom and keep kissing her, touching her. I wanted to make love to her for the first time and know it wasn’t going to be the last because we had an entire lifetime together stretching out ahead of us.
I’ve always planned to be faithful to my someday wife, but even two weeks ago, I wasn’t ready for someday to be any day soon. I was looking forward to more of the sweet single routine, more warm winter romances and summer flings. More girls who would come and go without changing the story of my life in any meaningful way.
I like the story of my life the way it is.
Or I did.
But sometime in the last fortnight, the single life stopped smelling so sweet. I’ve started to wonder what it would be like to have a partner, someone to help tackle my problems and share in my victories. Someone to share my life with, who makes me happier to be alive with something as simple as a chat over morning coffee or a shared morning run.
I can talk to Sabrina like no one else. From that first day in the rose garden, we just…clicked.
My gut wants to believe that means something.
But my heart howls that I’m a fucking fool. The Sabrina I think I know doesn’t exist. I’ve met Sabrina-pretending-to-be-Elizabeth. I don’t really know her at all. The woman I thought I loved is a lie and so is everything I felt for her.
That’s the worst part…realizing I fell for a shadow, a paper doll who will dissolve in the first hard rain.
Like I conjured them into being, fat raindrops splatter my face and shoulders, seeming to come out of nowhere. I look up, but there’s nothing but dusky-blue sky overhead. The closest rainclouds are still miles away, churning toward the capital from the sea, but the wind is so strong the rain is finding me anyway.
It’s going to pour, and if I don’t find shelter soon, I’ll be stuck in it.
For my part, I say, “Fuck it,” but Barcelona is terrified of thunder, and I don’t want to be thrown from a horse tonight. I already feel like I’ve taken a hoof to the gut—the last thing I need is a concussion on top of a nasty case of heartbreak.
I consider circling around to the stables the back way and locking myself in my rooms, but I can’t stand to be that near to Sabrina. Even two floors and a wing between us will be too close, and I know better than to think she’ll leave me alone. She’ll want to talk, to explain herself, but nothing she can say will make this better.
Whatever we might have had is dead, poisoned by her lies.
I have to find someplace to lie low until it’s safe to fly her away from here.
Instinctively, I guide Barcelona toward one of my childhood hiding places. They were good enough when I was young and overwhelmed and the castle and all the responsibilities waiting for me there felt too big, and they’re good enough for the man I am now.
A man who wishes being royal was enough to keep the pain away.
But pain comes for you, no matter how much money you have or who your parents are. I learned that when my dad left and again when my grandfather died.
But I survived both of those things.
I will survive this, too, even though right now the thought of living the rest of my life without a Sabrina in it sounds pretty damned bleak.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sabrina
I skid to a stop under the oak tree sheltering the horses and watch Andrew race away from me on a white horse, Prince Charming in reverse, and curse myself for not getting through to him sooner.