When he’d first seen her rushing down the embankment toward the small boat, she’d seemed a picture of anticipation. When she saw him, her smile faded and her eyes revealed disappointment. Since they’d set out upriver, she hadn’t looked at him once. ‘Twas as if the sight of his naked chest—his hairless chest—now repulsed her. “Rowena.” He said her name softly then repeated it. “Rowena, have I done something to offend you?” “No.” “If there is someplace else you would rather go, I can take you. We can ride or walk if you would prefer.” Sighing, she sat up and looked boldly into his eyes. “’Tis only that I sense a difference in you, Edgar. A purpose in you I have not seen before.” “Perhaps you seek to blame me for your own…differences.” Have I developed a sixth sense? Or am I simply so attuned to Rowena I recognize her twin without being told? Dismissing the idea as an old woman’s fancy, he continued to hold his companion’s gaze. But he wondered if she sensed his disappointment, his wanting Rowena and not wanting her sister.
