Once Upon a Castle

by Nora Roberts

  Suddenly she paused to read a notation in the margin written in her father’s barely legible script. She blinked, carried the paper to the window for a better view, and read again.

  Praise heaven for her father’s meticulous documentation. He had written down not only the poison and its effects but the antidote as well.

  She snatched up her cloak and hurried down the stairs. Now, if only the apothecary in the village had what she needed.

  Felicity stood at the window and watched as evening shadows gathered over the land. There was a majestic beauty to this part of the world. A softness, a stillness, that spoke of peace and tranquillity. How ironic that she should be locked in a life-and-death struggle in such a place.

  She glanced at the vials of murky liquid on her night table. If her father’s notes were correct, they would render Ian’s potions useless. If her father had made but a single error in his calculations, however, his dearest friends would pay with their lives. As would she. For she was certain that Ian and Honora had no intention of allowing her to leave this place alive to reveal what she knew.

  To pass the time, Felicity picked up the dusty family history of the Falcons and began to read. Hours passed. Suddenly she glanced up in astonishment. The book fell from her nerveless fingers. She raced to the window. Where was Gareth? Why had he not come to her? It was essential that she share this news with him. What she had just read changed everything here at Falcon’s Lair.

  She was shocked to see that darkness covered the land. It had to be past midnight. All of the household had retired for the night. She would share her news with Gareth later. Right now, it was time to put her plan into motion.

  Peering cautiously around her door, she slipped down the hall and into Lord Falcon’s room. The old man lay deep in sleep. It took her several minutes to rouse him. Even when his eyes finally opened, she couldn’t be certain that her words were reaching his consciousness.

  “Lord Falcon, I’ve found the antidote to Ian’s drug. It was in my father’s notes.” She struggled to lift his head. “You must drink this.”

  In his confusion he tried to wave her away and nearly spilled the contents of the vial. With her heart thudding, she held it to the old man’s lips. At the first taste he made a face and tried to turn away.

  “I know it tastes vile, but you must drink all of it,” she urged. “Do it for your old friend Rob.”

  When he emptied the vial, she lowered his head to the pillow. “I wish I could stay by your side,” she whispered as she smoothed the blanket over him, “but there’s no time to waste. I must get the antidote to William.”

  She hesitated for a moment, wishing he would say something that would set her mind at ease. But he stared mutely, then closed his eyes.

  She struggled against a growing feeling of dread as she hurried along the darkened hallway toward William’s suite. Inside, she found him tossing and turning, fighting the demons that came to him in sleep.

  “William,” she whispered fiercely, touching a hand to his shoulder.

  At once he swung out a fist, barely missing her.

  “William,” she said again in a louder voice, “I bring you word from Diana.”

  At the mention of that name he went very still.

  Felicity took a deep breath and reminded herself that the lie was for his own good. “Diana has said that if you love her you will drink this. All of it,” she added as she lifted the vial to his lips.

  Without a word of protest he did as he was told.

  Felicity dropped the empty vial into her pocket and touched a hand to his cheek in a gesture of tenderness. “Rest now, William. I pray you are soon removed from this nightmare and reunited with your true love.”

  As she turned, she was shocked to see two menacing figures in the doorway.

  “So. It’s as you suspected, Ian. Our houseguest refused to heed my warning.” Honora advanced on Felicity. “We’d hoped your absence today meant that you were packing to return to America. But that was too much to hope for. Now you’ll have to pay for your meddling.”

  “What…do you think you can do to me?” Felicity took a step backward and found herself trapped against the wall.

  “What can we do?” Ian laughed, and Honora followed suit. “Miss Andrews, you’re going to disappear. Never to be seen again.”

  In the glow of candlelight, Felicity saw a cloth in his hand. Too late, she realized what he intended. He pinned her and held the cloth to her face until she breathed deeply. The sickly odor made her head swim. Though she was not unconscious, she no longer had the will to fight.

  Felicity could feel the drug taking effect. Her mind seemed separated from her body. When Ian lifted her in his arms and descended the stairs, she felt herself drifting. She heard the door to the castle being opened and closed. A cold, dark mist swirled before her eyes, and she wondered why she was being carried outside. She felt the wet brush of tree branches as she was being carried through the gardens. There was a loud scraping sound, as of a heavy door being forced open. They descended more steps, and the air reeked of damp earth and mold.

  Honora’s voice seemed to roll in waves over Felicity, loud, then soft, then loud again. “You can scream as much as you please in this place, and no one will ever hear. How apt. The Falcon family mausoleum. In a few weeks, when we return, it will be a simple matter to dispose of your body in one of the crypts.”

  Felicity tried to speak, to implore them not to leave her. But her throat was so constricted, she couldn’t manage more than a small moan. She heard the sound of their footsteps, and the scrape of the heavy door. Shared laughter trilled. Then there was only silence.

  The blackness was impenetrable, like a shroud. Holding her hand in front of her face, Felicity bit back a cry when she couldn’t see it. So this, then, was her fate. She would die, alone, in the Falcon mausoleum. No one would mourn her. Nor would anyone ever find her. She would disappear without a trace. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She must not allow herself to give in to grief. Until her last breath was drawn, she would fight. Somehow.

  She groped blindly, in search of any means of escape. She shuddered when her hands tangled in a spiderweb and she felt the rush of insects across her arms. It took several minutes before she could stop the trembling. Then, forcing herself to move on, she scraped her knuckles over the sharp edges of stone and realized she was standing before a crypt.

  As she stood there, a soft glow seemed to radiate from the stone. She watched in fascination as the glow became a halo of light shimmering around the figure of a man.

  “Gareth. Oh, Gareth, thank heaven.”

  He gathered her into an embrace and she hugged him fiercely, pressing her lips to his throat. He could hear the tears in her voice as she whispered fiercely, “Honora and Ian left me here to die. I thought…I thought this time they’d won.”

  Against a tangle of hair at her temple he muttered, “You may be right, love.”

  She lifted her head to peer at him. His image blurred and faded. And then it struck her. There was no heat in his touch. No strength in his embrace.

  “Oh, Gareth. What are you saying?”

  “My powers…are diminished. That is the price exacted.”

  She touched a hand to his cheek and felt the chill. “You knew. Before we loved.”

  He nodded.

  “Then why…?”

  “Loving you was worth any price.”

  “But why are you here?” Even as she spoke, she knew the answer with chilling clarity. Over his shoulder she could read the inscription on the crypt. Gareth, First Lord of Falcon’s Lair. “Oh, my love. You were here, all alone in the darkness, waiting to…”

  They stood together, their breathing shallow, their thoughts scattered.

  When she finally spoke, Felicity’s tone was resigned. “At least you won’t be alone now. Nor will I. We’ll face our fate together.”

  “No.” He held her a little away, his eyes hot and fierce. “This is not to be your fate.
I won’t allow you to give up.”

  “But you said yourself that your powers have diminished, and I have none at all.”

  “You forget the power of love.” He turned away, concentrating all his energy on the heavy door that barred their way.

  As Felicity watched in amazement, a sound, like that of a terrible rushing wind, sent the door scraping open. Gareth caught her hand and led her up the steps and into the chill night air. Jagged slashes of lightning rent the heavens, and thunder shook the very ground as, together, they sprinted the distance to the castle. One look from Gareth sent the door creaking open on its hinges. They raced up the stairs and stopped short at Lord Falcon’s room.

  Ian and Honora were standing beside the old lord’s bed. In Ian’s hand was a vial of poison. His eyes glinted with hatred as he turned to Felicity.

  “How did you escape? And who is this stranger?”

  Felicity realized that Gareth, in his diminished state, was no longer invisible.

  “I am Gareth, First Lord of Falcon’s Lair,” he cried in a voice that rang with authority. “I command you to step away from Lord Falcon’s bed.”

  Ian gave a chilling laugh. “How fitting. The first lord and the last. Both will die. You see, I gave my uncle his final dose of my special medicine.”

  “Oh, Ian!” Felicity cried. “Why do you hate your uncle so?”

  “If my father had been half a man, he would have killed his brother years ago. Then I would have inherited Falcon’s Lair, along with the title, instead of my wretched cousins. But at least one of us had the courage of his convictions. I will have the estate, and William’s wife as well.”

  “You may have her with my blessing,” came a voice from the doorway.

  William, leaning heavily on the arm of Diana Summerville, started forward.

  “What are you doing in the company of my husband?” Honora demanded harshly.

  Diana’s eyes flashed with an inner fire. “Bean summoned me when she couldn’t find your houseguest.”

  “And you, William. How is it that you are alive?” Ian demanded. “I gave you the same dose of poison I gave your father.”

  Felicity’s voice was triumphant. “Before you caught me, I gave both Lord Falcon and William an antidote. Your poison can no longer harm them.”

  “You fool! I told you we should have killed the American sooner!” Honora cried. “Here, Ian.” Reaching over Lord Falcon’s bed, she tossed her lover a jewel-handled sword. “Since the poison hasn’t worked, use this to finish all of them.”

  Ian caught it and advanced on Felicity. But before he could attack, Gareth dragged her roughly behind him, shielding her with his own body.

  There was a time when Gareth, First Lord of Falcon’s Lair, would have been agile enough to dodge the thrusts of the finest swordsmen. But in his weakened condition he was no match for the enraged Ian St. John. The blade found its mark, piercing his chest.

  As Gareth fell, there was a terrible commotion, and one of the servants belowstairs shouted, “My lord! My lord! Awake and rejoice. It is Lord Chandler, your elder son, returned from the perils of the Amazon.”

  At that Lord Falcon rose up from his bed, his eyes wide, his senses alert. “Chandler lives? Can it be true?”

  Like a proud old lion infused with new life, he seized the second sword. Tossing it to his son, he shouted, “Stop them, William! In the name of all Falcons!”

  Felicity was only vaguely aware of the sound of scuffling, and the cries of Ian and Honora as they attempted to flee the wrath of William, Diana, and Lord Falcon. From the shouting, it would seem that the servants had joined in the chase. But she no longer cared what happened to Ian and Honora. All her energies were centered on the terrible drama being played out here. In the silence of the bedroom, she knelt and cradled Gareth in her arms.

  “You cannot die, love,” she cried. “For there is something you must know.”

  “I know that I have loved the finest woman ever created. Not merely in one lifetime, but in two. That is enough reward for me.”

  She was unaware of the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Only one thing mattered now. It was of the utmost importance that she relay to Gareth what she’d read in the family history. He must not face eternity without being granted his fondest wish.

  “All these years you have believed that Adrian, your half brother, made good his threat to wed your beloved Cara and force her to bear his son. It is true that she was forced to become his wife. She died soon after giving birth to Alexander. What you didn’t know, nor did Adrian, was that Cara had conceived the babe before their marriage and before your death.”

  For a moment she felt the glimmer of heat. His eyes opened, struggling to focus. “Are you saying that Alexander was my son?”

  “Yes, my love. All his descendants are yours as well. You are not doomed to an eternity of loneliness. There are generations of Falcons. Hundreds of them. They all owe their lives to you.”

  He clutched her hand, and she felt the chill seeping into his flesh. “You have given me the greatest gift of all, little happy face. Now I give one to you. Know this. Though I must leave you, you will never be alone. There will be another…”

  A sob rose up, threatening to choke her. “No, Gareth. I won’t listen to this. Please don’t leave me. I don’t want another. I want you.”

  Lord Falcon and his sons found Felicity lying on the floor of the bedroom, weeping as though her heart were broken. The stranger who had been with her was nowhere to be seen. Though the grounds and village were searched carefully, he was never seen again.

  EPILOGUE

  Felicity made a slow turn around the gardens, stopping often to admire a perfect rose or to inhale the perfumed air. She would miss this. All of it. The flocks of sheep undulating gently across the rolling hills. The vast stretches of windswept moors. The brooding castle with its secrets. And the people. Especially the people. Bean and Simmons and Maud Atherton. Lord Falcon and his son William, and the lovely Diana, who would soon become William’s wife.

  And, of course, Gareth. She would carry him in her heart forever.

  As she approached the terrace, she glanced toward the stand of trees, where she and Gareth had hidden away one wonderful night. As always, just thinking about him brought a lump to her throat that threatened to choke her. For a short time she had actually believed that this place could be her home. But now, without Gareth, the dream had died.

  Hadn’t he warned her that a sword would pierce her heart? She’d never dreamed it would be so painful. The sword that killed him had destroyed her as well. No one would ever touch her like that again.

  “Miss Andrews.” Chandler Falcon opened the French doors and stepped onto the terrace. Despite the fact that he’d been missing in the Amazon for months, he looked tanned and fit, and every bit the lord of the manor. He was tall, with broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips. Dark hair, in need of a trim, seemed always slightly mussed, which only added to his appeal. He had a proud, almost haughty profile, with firm jaw, full, sensuous lips, and dark, penetrating eyes that struck a chord in her heart, though she knew not why. “The servants have gathered in the front hall to say a proper good-bye.”

  She nodded, but as she started to brush past him, he touched a hand to her shoulder to stop her. She felt a rush of heat and pulled back, resenting his touch.

  “In all the excitement of the past few days, I’ve never really had the opportunity to thank you for saving my father and brother. It was a very brave thing you did. As you know, we Falcons admire those who thrive on courage and adventure.”

  “It was nothing,” she said softly. “Just a favor between old friends.”

  “Nothing? You are far too modest, I’m afraid. Why, even Mrs. Atherton sings your praises.” His eyes crinkled with unexpected humor. “That’s rare praise indeed.”

  Felicity couldn’t help smiling. It was true. Maud Atherton had become as friendly as Bean and Simmons and had decided that the American houseguest was no trouble at
all.

  “I don’t believe you’ve heard the news of Ian and Honora.”

  Her head came up. “News?”

  “They escaped their jailer and made off in his rig. While fleeing across the moors, something spooked their horse, and the rig tipped over, killing them both.” He cleared his throat. “There are those who say it is poetic justice.”

  She realized that she felt nothing. Neither relief nor regret, just a chilling numbness.

  When she said nothing, Chandler continued to stand in front of the door, barring her way. “I hope you won’t think me too bold. But I wish you would consider staying on a while at Falcon’s Lair. Not only would it make my father happy, but it would give me a chance to get to know you better.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t stay, Lord Falcon.” She made a move to slip past him.

  “It’s Chandler.”

  “Chandler.” She paused beside him, irritation deepening her tone. “Thank you for the invitation, but I really…”

  “Your first name’s Felicity, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you know,” he said, his smile deepening, “that ‘Felicity’ is Latin for happiness?” He caught a strand of her hair and watched as it sifted through his fingers. Then he shifted his dark gaze to her eyes, and she felt the jolt of recognition. “The name suits you. You have a happy face.”

  She felt the blood drain, leaving her pale and trembling. She tried to speak, but no words came.

  A short time later Lord Falcon, William, and Diana, along with the servants, came in search of their errant houseguest. They found her still standing on the terrace, her hands linked with Chandler’s.