by Nora Roberts
“Obviously.” He allowed his hands to linger a moment longer before lowering them to his sides. “I’m Ian St. John, nephew to Lord Falcon, as well as his physician.”
“I’m—“
“Felicity Andrews,” he finished. “Everyone here is talking about you.”
He turned as a beautiful blonde in a billowing gown descended the stairs and paused beside him. “Miss Felicity Andrews, this is William’s wife, Honora.”
“Honora, Lord Falcon spoke of you.” Felicity extended her hand. “How nice to meet you.”
The woman’s mouth curved into an imitation of a smile, but there was no answering warmth in her eyes or in the limp handshake she offered.
“I expect you’re hungry.” She studied Felicity thoroughly from head to toe. What she saw apparently alarmed her, for her frown grew more pronounced.
Felicity nodded. “I must admit it’s been a good many hours since my morning meal with Lord Falcon.”
Honora’s tone was frigid. “He said you’d been in to see him.”
Felicity unfastened her cloak. “Yes. We had a lovely time. He couldn’t have been more charming.”
“I must warn you, Miss Andrews. Such things tire him. From now on, I hope you will check with me before you intrude on his privacy.”
Felicity’s fingers paused in their work. She could feel her cheeks growing pink. “I’m sorry. I had no idea…”
Honora turned to the housekeeper. “Maud, I’ll show Miss Andrews to her new suite of rooms while you see about something to eat.”
The dour woman hesitated for just a moment, but it was enough to let Felicity know that she considered this additional chore a burden.
“Come, Miss Andrews. I’m sure you’d like to freshen up.”
“Yes. Well…” Felicity offered her hand, and Ian St. John accepted it. “I suppose I’ll see you here again, Doctor.”
“Oh, indeed. I’m on daily call.”
Honora paused on the stair and turned. “I was hoping you might join us for some refreshment, Ian.”
“I’d like that.” He nodded toward a closed door. “I’ll just wait in the library.” He turned away with the ease of someone comfortable with his surroundings.
“Come along, then, Miss Andrews.” Honora led the way along a column of wide stairs that led to the second floor. The wood of the balustrade was polished to a high sheen. Overhead the crystal chandeliers, filled with hundreds of candles, rivaled the glitter of a sky filled with stars. To Felicity, who had lived her entire life amid the simple pleasures of a Boston flat, this was luxury beyond belief.
“Your home is lovely, Honora.”
“Thank you. Though I must confess I much prefer life in London to this dreary little countryside. But I fear it will be a long time before I see London again.”
“Lord Falcon told me about William’s accident.”
“Ian has prepared me for the fact that he will never leave his bed.”
Felicity stopped in midstride. “I don’t know how you can bear it.”
The young woman shrugged, then continued walking. “William has been an adventurer since his youth. Like all the Falcons, I’m afraid. You heard about his older brother, Chandler?”
Felicity nodded.
“Broke the old man’s heart. And now William. Ian says it will be too much for Lord Falcon’s delicate health.”
Felicity rounded a corner and followed her hostess through wide double doors into a beautifully appointed sitting room. A cozy fire burned on the hearth, filling the suite with heat and light. A sofa and a pair of claret-colored chairs were positioned to take advantage of the warmth. The floors were covered with exotic rugs in lush jewel tones. On a sideboard a silver tray held an assortment of crystal decanters and goblets.
In the adjoining room was a huge bed hung with fine linen. Two chattering maids were unpacking Felicity’s trunks, hanging her gowns in a lovely carved armoire. The minute she and Honora entered, the conversation ceased. The servants finished their work efficiently, then bowed their way out of the room.
Felicity wondered if either of them had been responsible for the earlier chaos. But then, she reminded herself, it could have been anyone at Falcon’s Lair.
When they were alone, Honora walked to the sideboard and watched as Felicity made a slow turn around each room. “Wine or ale?” she asked.
“Whatever you’re having.” Felicity was astonished by such luxury. She couldn’t resist touching a hand to the bed. Soft. The mattress was as soft as down, and the bed linens were as fine as silk, all delicately embroidered with Lord Falcon’s crest. It was everywhere—on the heavy damask quilt, the draperies, even on the crossed swords that hung over the mantel, like the ones over his bed.
Honora handed her a goblet of clear, pale wine. “This will revive you.”
“Thank you.” Felicity followed the young woman across the room and took a seat in front of the fire. “I’m already feeling better. After the confinement of the ship and then the long coach ride, it felt good to walk in a bracing wind.” She took a sip of wine and felt the warmth radiate through her veins.
“I prefer a carriage. I find our English winters and brief springs tedious.” Honora sipped her wine, watching her guest carefully. “Especially here on the moors. Thankfully these seasons don’t last long. Perhaps by summer I’ll be back in London.” She seemed to mentally shake herself. “Are you satisfied with your accommodations?”
“Satisfied?” Felicity gave a little laugh. “Oh, Honora, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
There was a tap on the door, and Bean stepped timidly into the room. “Mrs. Atherton says there’s a light meal ready.”
“Thank you, Bean. Come along,” said Honora, setting her goblet aside. “We’ll join Dr. St. John in the library.”
She led the way down the stairs and into a room that smelled of leather and woodsmoke. One wall was dominated by a massive stone fireplace. Close by was a table covered with crisp linens and set with an assortment of fine china and silver.
Felicity gazed in awe at the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. Ian St. John hastily returned a book he’d been perusing and hurried to join the two ladies.
“I’ve never seen so many books in one place in my life,” Felicity said with a sigh of disbelief. “How my father would have loved this.”
“A man of letters?” The doctor held a chair for Honora, then Felicity, before taking his own place.
“Yes. He was a physician who lectured at Harvard.”
“A physician?” Ian’s head came up sharply.
“His field was exotic medicines.” She glanced toward the doorway, missing the look that passed between the doctor and Honora. “Will Lord Falcon be joining us?”
“I thought you knew. The old man never leaves his bed.”
“But he told me he’d be joining me tonight for dinner in the dining room.”
Ian’s tone was sympathetic. “Just an old man’s ravings.”
“Ravings? I don’t understand.”
Several servants entered and began to serve the meal. The doctor and Honora sipped their soup. “Excellent,” Ian murmured before continuing in that same matter-of-fact tone. “Most days my uncle doesn’t even know who he is. In his weakened state, I doubt the old lord will live past spring.”
Felicity’s gasp of alarm was the only sound in the room. She watched as the two continued eating. With a sigh she pushed aside her plate and concentrated instead on sipping strong, hot tea.
Her appetite had fled along with the happiness she’d felt only moments before.
4
Felicity was just slipping into her gown in preparation for dinner when there was a knock on the door.
“Bean, come in.” She stepped aside, genuinely pleased to see the young serving girl.
“Mrs. Atherton sent me to help you.” The girl’s wispy blond hair was hidden beneath a hat that resembled a lace doily. Her black dress was two sizes too big, nipped at the waist by a starched white apro
n.
“How kind. But I can manage by myself.”
“Well, then, I’ll just make myself useful.” The girl added another log to the fire, then glanced around the room, searching for any chore that might keep her here a while longer. “Here now,” she called, crossing to where Felicity sat in front of a dressing table. “Why don’t I do up your hair for you?”
“All right.” Felicity relinquished the brush.
“Ah, you’ve lovely hair.”
“Thank you. Tell me about yourself, Bean. Have you worked here long?” Felicity’s eyes closed after just a couple of smooth, long strokes of the brush.
“Since I was eight, ma’am.”
“That’s very young.”
“Not so young. My brother was apprenticed at seven. He works in the stables. Lord Falcon himself arranged for us to work here when our parents died.”
“That was kind of him.”
“Aye, ma’am. He’s a good man. I don’t know what would have happened to us if he hadn’t taken us in.”
“Then you’ve grown up here. You knew Chandler, and William before the accident?”
“Oh, yes. They made all the young ladies’ hearts flutter. Handsome they were. And charming. But that was before they were cursed.”
“Come now. Do you really believe in the Falcon curse?” Felicity’s lips curved in a teasing smile.
The servant gave a solemn nod of her head and lowered her voice. “You’ve not seen Lord William yet, ma’am. When you do, you’ll swear he’s possessed by the devil himself. Stares off into space. Mumbles to himself. Doesn’t seem to see or know anything anymore.”
She twisted a clump of curls and began to anchor it with a jeweled comb. Just then the comb slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor. Felicity bent over to retrieve it. As she straightened, she caught sight of the servant in the mirror. The poor child was cringing, and all the color had drained from her face.
“I’m sorry,” Bean said with a catch in her voice. “Truly I am, ma’am.”
“No damage done,” Felicity said gently. Seeing the way the girl flinched at her outstretched hand, she asked, “What’s wrong, Bean? Why are you so afraid?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” She accepted the comb and tried again, her hand trembling. “Lady Honora would strike me if I did such a clumsy thing in her presence. Then she would order Mrs. Atherton to have me punished as well.”
Felicity struggled with a sense of outrage. “What sort of punishment?”
“I’d be sent to the scullery and made to work without food for a day or two.”
Felicity could hardly contain her fury. “That’s despicable.”
“But she’s the mistress of Falcon’s Lair, ma’am. It’s her right to do as she wishes. She’s vowed to dismiss all of us unless our work pleases her.”
“Does Lord Falcon know how his new daughter-in-law treats the servants?” Felicity twisted in her chair to face the young girl.
“Oh, ma’am, what could the old lord do about it?” Bean looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “There are some days he hardly knows his own name. Like now.”
“Now?” Felicity was on her feet, nearly knocking over the stool in her agitation.
“Yes, ma’am. I was in there not half an hour ago. With Simmons and Mrs. Atherton. Lord Falcon’s skin was the color of those bed linens, and I swear he didn’t even recognize us.”
“Then we must cancel dinner.” Felicity headed toward the door.
“Oh, no, ma’am. That isn’t possible,” Bean cried.
Felicity turned. “Why not?”
“Lady Honora has invited guests.”
“Guests? Knowing her father-in-law is so ill?”
The girl nodded and began twisting her apron in her hands.
“Who is coming to dinner?” Felicity demanded.
“Dr. St. John, of course. He has dinner here most nights. And Lord and Lady Summerville and their daughter, Diana.”
“Who are these people?”
“Old friends of Lord Falcon’s.” The girl lowered her voice. “They live in the lovely manor house just a carriage ride away.”
“Friends or no…” Without finishing, Felicity pulled open the door.
“Where are you going, m’lady?” Bean replaced the brush and hurried across the room to follow her.
“To pay a visit to Lord Falcon. I need see for myself whether or not he’s strong enough to accompany me to dinner.”
The sight that greeted Felicity made her gasp in shock. As Bean had said, Lord Falcon’s skin was pasty and his breathing labored.
This was not the man she had seen just this morning. In the space of several hours, he had aged beyond recognition.
Drawing a chair to the side of the bed, she sat down and took his hand in hers. “Lord Falcon, can you hear me?”
The eyelids fluttered for a moment, then closed.
Felicity touched a hand to his forehead. The skin was damp. Clammy. It had the feel of death to it.
She leaned close and said firmly, “Lord Falcon, it is Felicity Andrews. Robert’s daughter. Don’t you remember your old friend Rob?”
At that his eyes opened, and he stared vacantly at the face swimming in his line of vision. “Rob, is it truly you? Oh, praise heaven. I knew you’d come. You’re the only one who can save me.”
Felicity stiffened as his big hand closed over hers.
“See how I must pay for my sins,” the old man managed between wheezing breaths.
“Hush, now,” Felicity crooned. “You’ve nothing to atone for.”
“But I do.” His voice grew feeble, and for long moments he lay, eyes closed, breathing shallowly. After a long pause he opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Felicity. His hand gave a gentle squeeze. “You knew. You’ve always known, haven’t you, Rob?”
When she said nothing, he closed his eyes, as if to shield himself from another wave of pain. “Of course you knew. You could always see through my little charades.” He sighed, long and deep, as if relieved that he was finally about to unburden himself. “It wasn’t just a love of adventure that caused me to lure you to Africa. I knew you couldn’t resist a chance to see firsthand how the witch doctors did their healing. But I had…other reasons.”
At her little gasp of surprise, he added quickly, “Ah, I’ll not deny the rest of it. I needed to flee my brother’s wife as well. You could tell that I’d…dallied with her, and I was so ashamed. I thought that if I went far away she would be able to forget me and repair her marriage to my brother. But it was a foolish, selfish ploy, and one that nearly cost us our lives. When you and I fell into that cave, I made a promise. If we survived, I would do the honorable thing and mend my ways.”
Moved by his confession, Felicity touched a hand to his cheek in a gesture of tenderness. “You didn’t need to tell me all this.”
He covered her hand with his. “Oh, but I did, Rob. You deserve the truth. I feel as though a burden has been lifted from my soul. Now promise me that you’ll find the cure. You see, they are…”
Suddenly he gazed around the room with a look of sheer terror. “You’d better leave before they find you “
“They?”
Instead of replying, he put a finger to his lips and shook his head.
“But I can’t leave you,” she whispered. “You need someone to be with you.”
“I have an angel watching out for me.”
“An angel?”
He gave her a sly wink. “You and I know. Now go, Rob. And kiss your lovely wife for me.”
As she made her way to the door, Felicity felt the sting of tears and had to swallow the lump that threatened to choke her. She found herself hoping that her father was indeed kissing her mother and that both had found a measure of peace.
Lost in thought, she didn’t hear the light footfall behind her as she paused at the top of the stairs. She was jolted as hands shoved roughly against her back. With a cry she tangled her foot in the hem of her skirt and pitched forward.
>
The stairs were steep, the distance to the landing far too perilous. Though the fall might not be fatal, it would surely result in some broken bones and a great deal of pain. With those thoughts rushing through her mind, Felicity struggled to bring her hands up to her face to cushion the blow. But just before she would have fallen on the landing below, she felt strong hands wrap around her waist. Heat enveloped her. She was set gently on her feet. Then, as quickly as it came, the heat was gone.
Felicity followed along the hallway toward the hum of voices. When she paused at the doorway to the parlor, the babble ceased. All heads turned toward her.
“Here she is now.” Ian St. John was standing beside the fireplace, one hand on the mantel, a crystal goblet of ale in the other. He looked relaxed, content. The words Gareth had spoken earlier came to mind: “Lord of the manor.” The doctor looked perfectly at home here at Falcon’s Lair.
“You’ve kept us waiting. Come and meet our guests.” Honora crossed the room in a swirl of petticoats and studied Felicity.
Thanks to a stop at her room, Felicity showed no trace of nerves. She had carefully brushed her hair and calmed her racing heartbeat before facing the others. Now, as she looked around, she wondered if someone present was the guilty party.
“Miss Felicity Andrews, may I present Lord and Lady Summerville and their daughter, Diana.”
Felicity offered her hand, which Lord Summerville gallantly kissed. His neatly trimmed hair and mustache were shot with silver. Though his middle had begun to thicken, he still had the proud bearing of a military man.
His plump wife wore a pink confection that was far too girlish for her figure. The neckline was enhanced by a diamond-and-pearl necklace that was worth a king’s ransom. Her smile was warm and genuine. “Welcome to England, my dear.”
“Thank you.” Felicity turned to the Summervilles’ daughter. “Diana, I’m delighted to meet you. I do hope we can be friends.”
“I’d like that.” Diana clasped her hand. Like her mother, she gave Felicity a welcoming smile.
“I understand you are old friends of Lord Falcon,” Felicity remarked.
“Oh, yes.” Lord Summerville nodded vigorously. “Oliver and I grew up on neighboring estates and went off to Oxford together. Muriel and I were in India and stood up at his wedding. We grieved with him when his beloved Catherine passed away two years ago.”