Connie Mason (12 page)

“Mariah followed us?” Falcon all but shouted. “Is the woman crazy?”

“Like a fox,” John observed. “She found her child on her own and sent someone to inform us that we are following a false trail. What do we do now?”

“Since there’s naught to gain by continuing forward, we shall establish a campsite, rest here tonight and return to Mildenhall on the morrow. After this latest fiasco, Osgood deserves neither the earldom nor Mildenhall. Relay my orders to the men, and station guards near the road. Osgood and Walter are behind us. No telling what they’ll do now.”

John nodded and departed. “Follow me, Chad,” Falcon said. I want to know everything you can tell me about Lady Mariah and Robbie.”

Chad followed Falcon to a fallen stump. They both sat heavily, saddle-weary and exhausted. Chad spoke first. “Lady Mariah had no idea we were following her. As we
rounded a bend, we saw her horse cropping grass at the side of the road. She had tethered him to a branch but was nowhere in sight.”

“Did you follow her?” Falcon asked.

“Not right away. She might have gone into the forest to relieve herself, and we didn’t want to disturb her. She had been riding hard for some time.”

“Did you see aught of Osgood or Walter?”

“Nay, we neither saw nor heard anything; we never suspected they were near. We believed they were ahead of you. But my lady had been in the forest so long, we began to fear that something had happened to her.”

“So you followed her,” Falcon guessed.

“Nay, we intended to, but she returned for her horse before we could carry through. To our utter astonishment, she had Robbie with her. My lady and Horace returned immediately to Mildenhall while I pressed on to inform you of the latest developments.”

“That’s it? That’s all you know?”

“Lady Mariah feared Osgood would discover Robbie missing and give chase; there was no time for a lengthy explanation.”

“Damnation! How could one woman rescue a child when ten men could not?” He clapped Chad on the back. “Get some rest. We return to Mildenhall at first light.”

Osgood’s camp was in disarray the following morning. He went into a rampage when he learned that Robbie had disappeared. He stomped around in a rage, sending Walter and his men scurrying in all directions to search for the missing boy. After long hours of fruitless searching, Osgood was of the opinion that the child had been
dragged off and eaten by a wild animal, though there was no proof to support his theory.

“What are we going to do now?” Walter complained. “We’ve lost our leverage and with it, the earldom. We should have left the brat sleeping in his bed, for we gained naught by taking him with us. Think you Falcon will look kindly upon your suit after what we have done?”

Osgood paced away and then spun around. “The boy could not have wandered off. He was wrapped up and tied with a rope. I tied him myself.”

“We were all sleeping,” Walter maintained. “It’s as you said, a wild animal dragged him off to its lair.”

Osgood shuddered. “ ’Tis not the end I had planned for the boy, but it will do.”

“Are we to return to Southwold, then?”

“Nay! I have no wish to endure the company of my wife and daughter. We’ll take ourselves to London and petition the king in person for Edmond’s title and lands. We shall inform Henry that Mariah’s son is dead. Everything is working out better than our original plan.”

“You’re forgetting one thing,” Walter reminded him. “We are responsible for the brat’s death.”

Walter’s words seemed to deflate Osgood. “Perhaps we’ll reach the king before word of Robbie’s demise. They’ll be mourning him at Mildenhall and won’t think to notify the king. The lapse will give me time to plead my case before the king in person. Henry needs to know that Edmond could not have sired a child in his condition.”

Falcon and his men returned to Mildenhall the following day, tired, dirty and hungry. The portcullis clanged down into place as soon as the last man had passed through.
Falcon strode into the hall and called for ale. His throat felt like a desert.

Smiling broadly, Sir Martin joined him. “Welcome back, Falcon.”

“Where is Mariah? Is Robbie well?”

Martin lost his grin. “Robbie is well and none the worse for his ordeal. Mariah, on the other hand . . .”

Falcon’s heart skipped a beat. “Is something wrong with Mariah? Tell me, man.”

“Rest easy, Falcon. Mariah is merely saddle-sore and exhausted. Edwina ordered her to bed. Robbie’s kidnapping and rescue wearied her nearly beyond endurance.”

Falcon decided to bathe before looking in on Mariah. He stank of horse and sweat; his ripe odor offended even himself. Deciding to forgo food until later, he ordered a tub before he climbed the stairs to his chamber. An hour later, clean and feeling more like himself, Falcon made his way to Mariah’s room. Edwina opened the door to his knock.

“Sir Falcon,” Edwina greeted. “Mariah was beginning to worry about you.”

“How is your mistress?” Falcon asked, glancing over Edwina’s shoulder at the bed. “Is she awake?”

“She’ll be relieved once she learns you’ve returned safely. She’s awake, so you may as well go in. I imagine you’ll have questions for her.”

Falcon’s face hardened as Edwina slipped into the corridor and shut the door behind her. He couldn’t help feeling anger. Mariah had left the keep after he had ordered her not to. What if things hadn’t worked out as they had? What if Mariah had been hurt?

“If you’re going to stay, come here where I can see you,” Mariah said.

“Are you sure you’re up to company?”

“I’m fine. ’Tis easier to obey Edwina than argue with her, though I must admit to being a wee bit weary.”

Falcon strode to the bed, fully intending to issue a stinging rebuke, until he saw Mariah; her face was pale, her eyes rimmed with dark shadows. He stopped in his tracks.

“You
are
ill!”

Mariah struggled to sit up. “I assure you my malaise is temporary. I was in the saddle too long without sleep or respite. But I’d do it again for Robbie.”

Falcon perched on the edge of the bed. “You should not have left the keep; you placed yourself in grave danger.” Without conscious thought, he reached out and stroked her cheek. “Are you well enough to tell me what happened?”

She nodded, turning her head into his caress. She wanted him to keep touching her, but he dropped his hand. After gathering her thoughts, she began talking. She told him everything that had happened, from the moment she’d left Mildenhall up to the time she snatched a sleeping Robbie from under Osgood’s nose.

Halfway through the telling, Falcon stood and began pacing. When she finished, his expression held a note of disbelief. “How could you hear Robbie crying when I did not?”

“There were ten men and horses in your party. The pounding of hooves would have masked his cries. I was but one rider—a mother who recognized her child’s crying.”

“You should have ridden for help.”

“Nay, I should not have. I did what was necessary. I heard Osgood and Walter talking while I waited for them
to go to sleep. They intended to double back to Mildenhall while you were chasing the men he sent ahead to lay a false trail. Once he returned, Osgood would have used Robbie to force me to wed Walter. It would have worked, for I would have done anything to save my son. When you returned, the deed would have been done, and Mildenhall would belong to Osgood and Walter no matter what your decision regarding the earldom.”

“Damnation! The man is a true villain, using a child to gain his own ends. How is Robbie?”

“I’m told he’s well, but I haven’t seen him since we returned. I’m worried about him. Would you look in on him when you leave here to make sure I’m not being lied to about his health?”

“Of course.”

Mariah gazed up at him. He was staring at her lips, and for a moment she was reminded of Sir Knight, the man who at one time could not get enough of her kisses. She closed her eyes, picturing them together, imagining his hands on her, loving her. Color tinged her cheeks, and she shook her head to clear it of arousing thoughts. Falcon was not Sir Knight. Falcon was a man who cared naught for her.

“What are you thinking?” Falcon asked. “Your eyes are closed. Am I tiring you?” He started to rise. “Perhaps I should leave you to your rest.”

Mariah stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t go . . . please.”

Falcon settled back on the edge of the bed. “Do you have any idea what Osgood might make of Robbie’s disappearance?”

“Nay, I wondered about that myself. Do you think he’ll return to Mildenhall?”

“I shouldn’t think so, but I doubt we’ve seen or heard the last of him.” Falcon’s thoughts turned inward. “Mayhap Osgood thinks that Robbie was dragged off by wild animals.”

Mariah sat up, a look of horror on her face. “What if Osgood believes Robbie is dead? What would his next move be?”

“If it were me, I would take myself to London to present my petition to the king. Robbie’s death could change everything. Osgood would become Edmond’s legal heir.”

“But Robbie isn’t dead!”

“I know. I’ll dispatch a messenger to apprise the king of Robbie’s continued well-being.”

Mariah flopped back against the pillows, her color returning. “May I assume you are no longer considering handing the earldom to Osgood?”

Falcon remained silent a long time . . . too long. “Falcon, please tell you aren’t going to take Robbie’s inheritance from him.”

“After Osgood’s trickery, I cannot in good conscience rule in his favor.” He stared at Mariah, as if searching for answers. “But before I take my decision to the king, I want you to tell me the name of Robbie’s father.”

Mariah went still, returning Falcon’s look without flinching. “I already told you. Edmond is Robbie’s father.”

Grasping her shoulders, Falcon brought her to him nose to nose. “You lie! We both know that’s impossible. Are you incapable of telling the truth?”

“Falcon, stop it! You’re hurting me.”

Immediately Falcon’s fingers gentled as he pulled her into his embrace and held her close. “Forgive me,
Mariah. Imagining you with another man drives me mad. I find it difficult to forgive you when your lies have cost me so much.”

“You’re thinking of Rosamond,” Mariah whispered. “I’m sorry. I confess I was unfaithful to Edmond, but only with you.”

Falcon wanted to believe Mariah but couldn’t. Though Osgood was no longer in the running for the earldom, Falcon was determined to learn the truth about Robbie before he left Mildenhall. His mouth settled into a grim line, but anger was difficult to maintain with Mariah in his arms. When he’d first learned Mariah had rescued Robbie, he had been worried and angry at the same time.

Mariah stared into the intensity of Falcon’s mesmerizing golden eyes and lost the ability to think. His expression . . . He looked at her with desire, but how could that be? Moments ago he was angry and accusatory, but now . . .

He looked like Sir Knight the lover—her lover.

The weight of Falcon’s hand slid over Mariah’s breasts, then over her belly. She tried to pull away, but he would not allow it. Raw, untamed heat shot through her veins. She glanced up at him; his lips were curled into a dangerous smile. Sir Knight was gone, replaced by Falcon, the fierce warrior and king’s emissary.

“Falcon, release me.”

“Do you remember how it was between us?” Falcon murmured against her lips.

“I’ve tried to forget,” she replied truthfully. “I never expected to see you again. After you returned from France, you made no effort to contact me.”

“There was no reason to,” he said, an impatient edge to his voice. “I needed a wealthy heiress, not the penniless widow you led me to believe you were.”

Her eyes flashed defiantly. “Did you think about me at all? Did you think about our time together after we parted?”

In a rash moment of truthfulness, Falcon confided, “After we parted, I burned for you in a way I’ve never burned for any other woman, and there have been plenty of them since you.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “I am a man of honor, Mariah. I did not put horns on Edmond by choice.” His touch turned into a caress. “But now that you’re a widow in truth, there is naught to stop us from continuing where we left off. We can be lovers until I return to London.”

Mariah wrested free of his embrace. “You speak of honor. What honor does becoming your mistress bring me?”

Leaning into her, Falcon nibbled her ear, kissed her throat, her neck. He released the ties on her shift, bared her breasts and kissed them. “Had you possessed a modicum of honor, you would not have lied to me about your relationship to Edmond.”

“How long must you punish me for that? Did my explanation not please you? You wanted me, Falcon, and I wanted you—’twas as simple as that.” She tried to push him away. “But I no longer want you. I have Robbie, and he’s all I need.”

He pushed her back against the pillows, trapping her beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat.

“You’re lying, Mariah. The look in your eyes, the
catch in your breath when I touch you, they all tell me you want me.”

He kissed her breasts again, with a boldness that made Mariah’s breath hitch. His tongue wrought magic upon her tender nipples, and she could do naught but savor the pleasure he bestowed. Heat simmered within her. No man had touched her since Falcon, and her need could not be contained.

Why this man? she wondered. She had been widowed a long time. She could have taken to her bed any man she found attractive. But she wanted no one except Falcon, and he had been lost to her, or so she’d thought. Never in her wildest dreams had she believed she would see Falcon again in this life.

But she didn’t want him like this, a man driven by equal parts of anger and lust. Mariah regretted using Falcon, but it had been necessary. What she hadn’t known was that she would develop strong feelings for him. Apparently, any tender feelings Falcon held for her had disappeared the day he had regained his memory. His purpose now was clear and simple, she thought. Falcon wanted vengeance for her deceit.

“Why are you doing this? You hate me,” she said.

His thumb traced the outline of her nipple. “I don’t know. My feelings are confused right now. I felt as if I had been betrayed when I arrived at Mildenhall and learned I had bedded Lord Edmond’s wife.”