by Connie Mason
Falcon was worried about Jamie. If the lad didn't return tomorrow, Falcon intended to send someone to see what was keeping him ... or go himself, no matter how strenuously Rosamond objected.
Falcon was spared a journey to Mildenhall when Jamie showed up at his rooms the next day.
"There's trouble at Mildenhall," Jamie cried the moment Falcon opened the door to him. He had to stop and draw a deep breath before continuing. "Osgood used trickery to gain entrance to the keep."
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Falcon's heart thudded against his ribs. "Sit down, lad, and catch your breath." He led Jamie to a chair. "Now tell me what happened."
"I decided to stop for a bite to eat at the alehouse in the village before continuing on to the castle," Jamie explained. "What I learned in the village changed my mind about going on to the castle. Sir Osgood is in control of Mildenhall. He used some sort of trickery to gain entrance. The castle guards were overpowered and are under lock and key."
Falcon's stomach clenched. He should have turned back when his gut warned him that something was wrong. Had the phantom voice he'd heard calling for help been Mariah's?
"Did you learn anything about Mariah and Robbie's fate?"
"Walter intended to force Lady Mariah to wed him, but that plan failed when Robbie disappeared."
"Disappeared? What do you mean? How did the boy escape the trap Osgood set for him and Mariah?"
"No one seems to know what happened to the lad," Jamie explained. "Both he and his nursemaid went missing. Father Francis is the cotters' only source of information. The priest is allowed to come and go in order to serve his flock. I think Osgood fears that God will punish him if he interferes with the priest's work."
Falcon began to pace, his face a mask of fury. "If Osgood were wise, he would fear God and me."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure yet. I wish I knew whether Robbie is safe. Where could he have gone?"
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"The consensus was that his nursemaid took him to London, to seek the king's help."
His fists clenched at his sides as Falcon's face hardened. "If Osgood has hurt the boy or his mother, he will suffer for it. You've earned your rest, Jamie. Go find your bed. We'll talk later, after I decide what's to be done."
Jamie left. Falcon dropped into the chair Jamie had vacated. He needed to think through all he had just learned. He wished Sir John hadn't taken his new wife home to meet his family. John had never failed him when a cool head was needed. Falcon was inclined to be hotheaded, acting first and thinking later. But with Mariah's life at stake, he couldn't afford to act impulsively.
Without the king's help, storming the castle could bring disastrous results. Possibly even endanger Mariah's life. That thought was almost too painful to bear. Why had he ever left Mariah? Why had he thought marrying Rosamond would bring him everything he'd ever wanted?
He was a fool, that's why.
Land and wealth didn't bring happiness.
On the other hand, could a woman who had lied to him for unknown reasons make him happy? Falcon didn't know. What he did know was that he couldn't leave Mariah to Osgood's machinations. Tomorrow he would gather his men and outline his plans to return to Mildenhall. But first, there was Rosamond to contend with.
Not one to put things off, Falcon called on his betrothed at her father's town house later that day. She received him in the drawing room.
"Falcon," she gushed, "I've been waiting for you to return. If you hadn't called today, I was going to send a
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messenger to your quarters. Papa is most anxious to see me settled. His illness progresses each day."
Falcon cleared his throat. 'There's trouble at Mildenhall, and I'm worried about Mariah and Robbie."
Rosamond reared back as if struck. "You're worried about a woman and child who should mean naught to you? Let Walter have the witch. 'Tis what Osgood wants, is it not?"
Falcon narrowed his eyes as Rosamond's words sank in. "I never mentioned Osgood or Walter. Why would you think the trouble involves them? We both saw them leave Mildenhall. Do you know something I do not, Rosamond?"
"N-nay! I just assumed ..."
Her denial did naught to assuage Falcon's suspicion. "As it happens, your assumption is correct. Osgood used trickery to gain entrance to Mildenhall. He and his mercenaries have seized control of the keep."
"How do you know this?"
Falcon shrugged. "I had a premonition and sent Jamie back to investigate. He returned today with the news of Osgood's takeover. I cannot allow Osgood to have his way in this. I am still under the king's orders to protect Lord Edmond's widow and son."
"What Osgood wants is to wed his son to Mariah. He means her no harm."
"What about Robbie? Does he mean the lad no harm?"
Rosamond shrugged and looked away. "Unavoidable things happen to children. Only a lucky few live to maturity. My mother bore three sons; none of them lived past the first year."
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Falcon blew out an angry breath. "Admit it! You knew about Osgood's plans to return to the keep."
"Nay, you accuse me unjustly! I swear to you, I knew naught of what Osgood planned."
He backed away from her, convinced she knew more uian she was admitting.
"What are you going to do?"
"Return to Mildenhall, of course. I cannot sit idle while Osgood forces Mariah to his will, or poses a threat to Robbie. We will talk after I return."
"Papa is not going to like this," Rosamond warned.
"I will settle with your father when I return—if" he stressed, "you still wish to marry me and I still wish to marry you."
"Do not count on my being here when you return," Rosamond threatened.
"The choice is yours, Rosamond."
Fire lit the centers of her eyes, and her face screwed up into an ugly sneer. "My choice, Sir Falcon, is to deny you the wealth and land you desire just as you continue to deny me your heart. You care naught for me; you proved it once and you're proving it again. Papa was right. I can do better than a landless knight. Go sniffing after Mariah, but heed me well, Falcon. She'll put horns on you just like she did her husband. Good-bye, Sir Falcon. You can let yourself out."
Turning on her heel, she flounced off, leaving Falcon standing in the middle of the drawing room. The only feeling he could muster was relief. He was free. Free to help Mariah and protect Robbie. Though he might never be more than a landless knight, he still was in possession
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of his honor. If all heiresses were as spoiled and demanding as Rosamond, he wanted naught to do with them.
Falcon left the house without regret. There was a great deal for him to do before he returned to Mildenhall.
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While Falcon was making plans to return to Mildenhall, Mariah, Robbie and Becca were on their way to London. Well out of sight of Mildenhall, Malcolm had pulled the wagon to a stop to help his passengers out of the kegs. When Robbie saw his mother, he gave a cry of gladness and flung his arms around her neck. Then he began to sob.
"Where were you, Mama? Why didn't you come for me? I was so afraid."
Near tears herself, Mariah said, "We're together now, my love. No one will ever take you from me again." She turned to the nursemaid. "Are you all right, Becca?"
"I'm fine, my lady. Both Robbie and I are glad to be out of Dame Bertha's cellar."
"Where are we going. Mama?"
"To London, Robbie, to seek the king's help. Henry needs to know what Sir Osgood has done."
"London? Can we visit Falcon?"
"I... don't know. Falcon and Lady Rosamond are planning their wedding. It wouldn't be right to interfere."
"I want to see him," Robbie demanded between sobs.
"I will think on it, Robbie," Mariah said without meaning it. The king had the power to see justice done for her and Robbie; there would b
e no need for Falcon.
Mariah settled Robbie and Becca in the wagon bed and turned around to speak to Malcolm.
"I've been thinking, Malcolm, perhaps I should rent horses for Becca and myself when we reach the next vil-
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lage. It would be safer for all of us. A long absence from the village might be noticed and bring trouble to you and your family. And Becca, Robbie and I can reach London faster on horseback."
Malcolm nodded. "Your logic is sound, my lady. We are nearly in Cambridge. Tis a good-sized town; buying horses should be no problem."
" 'Tis settled, then," Mariah said, scooting down beside Robbie.
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Mariah's small group spent the night at the Traveler's Haven in Cambridge. The inn offered clean, comfortable rooms at modest prices and served tasty food. Robbie was already asleep in Becca's arms when they arrived at the inn. Mariah engaged two rooms, one for Becca and Robbie and one for herself. Then she ordered baths and meals. She planned to make it an early night, for she hoped to reach London the following day.
Mariah woke early the next morning and bought horses to carry them the rest of the way to London. They set out shortly after breaking their fast and reached London before the city gates closed that evening. Since Mariah had been to London several times with Edmond before he took ill, she knew exactly where to stay and engaged two rooms at the King's Arms.
The following morning, Mariah rose before Robbie and Becca were awake and left early for Whitehall. She wanted to be the first in line to see the king.
When she arrived, she spoke to Henry's secretary and learned that the king was in France, and that his return was not expected anytime soon. Mariah felt as if her world had just spun out of control. If she remained in
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London to await the king, her funds might run out before he returned. She could probably survive a few weeks, but the longer she remained away from Mildenhall, the stronger Osgood's hold would grow on her home and people. What if she were never able to return to Mildenhall? Whatever would she and Robbie do then?
She could wed Walter.
She shuddered, the thought was too horrible to contemplate.
She could try to find Falcon and ask for his help.
Rosamond would never allow it, and Mariah had no right to ask. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Even if Falcon refused, she had to ask. But finding him would be near to impossible. London was a big city. Then she recalled that Lord Norwich kept a town house in London. Though Rosamond might not like her inquiring about Falcon, it was a place to start.
Before she left Whitehall, Mariah asked everyone she encountered in the reception hall for directions to Lord Norwich's residence. The third man she spoke to directed her to the earl's home.
When she arrived, her knock was opened by Rosamond herself.
"What are you doing here?" Rosamond asked.
"Please forgive me for arriving unannounced, but it's imperative that I find Falcon. Is he here? If not, can you tell me where I can find him?"
Rosamond's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want Falcon?"
"I need his help. Osgood has seized Mildenhall."
"Indeed. I'm surprised he let you walk away."
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"He didn't. I haven't time for this, my lady. Do you or do you not know where I can find Falcon?"
A sly smile curved Rosamond's lips. "He's making preparations to join the king in France."
"Have you already wed, then?" Mariah knew she had no business asking such a thing but couldn't help herself.
"Aye, we were wed quietly the day after we reached London," Rosamond lied.
A painful silence ensued as Mariah tried to regain her composure. But the agony of Rosamond's words hit her like a blow to the gut. She was lost. No help would be forthcoming from any quarter.
Then, to Mariah's utter dismay, Rosamond slammed the door in her face. Stifling a sob, she turned and fled.
From the pain.
From the hopelessness of her situation.
Mariah walked for what seemed like hours. She walked aimlessly, without direction or purpose. When she finally roused herself from her stupor and became aware of her location, she realized she was standing outside the Fox and Hound. The inn was not far from Whitehall and very close to her own lodgings. She looked around to get her bearings and saw ...
Falcon!
She gaped at him, unable to believe her good fortune. For a moment she could do naught but let her gaze drift over him, admiring the masculine perfection of his powerful build. He strode purposely toward the inn, the long muscles of his legs strong and shapely beneath his hose. She couldn't take her eyes off him, fascinated by the combination of hardness and softness in his face, the bold
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angle of his nose, the full curve of his bottom lip, the way his thick lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones. And his eyes ... how she loved his golden tiger eyes.
A lock of unruly midnight hair bounced against his wide forehead, reminding Mariah of the times she'd run her hands through the thick strands. He was large but not bulky. There wasn't an ounce of fat on his muscular body. He was a warrior with a warrior's body. And she loved every inch of it.
Mariah raised her hand to hail him just as he saw her. He stopped in his tracks. They stared at one another for two heartbeats, and then he seemed to explode as he started toward her, a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"Mariah!"
Mariah met him halfway, but he didn't react as she expected. Grasping her elbow, he dragged her into the inn and up the stairs to his rooms. He slammed the door shut with his foot and pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a desperation that took Mariah by surprise. A married man shouldn't be kissing a woman the way Falcon was kissing her.
Despite that knowledge, Mariah's body softened, yielded, melting against him. She opened her mouth to him, and their tongues dueled in rapturous abandon. His scalding heat seeped through her clothes and spread through her like a blistering fever—the very same way he had entered her life and her heart. His lips left her mouth; he pressed hot, fervent kisses across her jaw, down her neck, until he reached the round collar of her gown.
He looked up then, into her eyes, his arms tightening around her. "How did you get here?"
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Mariah had been so caught up in the moment, she could scarcely think, let alone speak.
"Mariah, talk to me. Where is Robbie?"
Mariah found her voice. "Robbie is safe at an inn with Becca. Osgood is in control of Mildenhall. We escaped and came directly to London to seek the king's help."
"The king is in France."
"I know. Rosamond—"
He placed a finger against her lips. "Nay, say naught. I am just so relieved to see you. When Jamie told me Osgood had returned to Mildenhall, my fear knew no bounds."
"Jamie? Your squire? How did he know?"
"I had a premonition that all was not well and had him return to Mildenhall. He reported back to me just yesterday. You must have left shortly after he did."
She stepped away from him so she could think without being distracted by him. "Rosamond—"
"I've thought of naught but you since I left Mildenhall," Falcon interrupted, reaching for her.
Mariah tried to resist, but the moment he touched her, she was lost. His hands sought her breasts. She splayed her fingers against his chest, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart against his ribcage. He acted as if she mattered to him. How could that be?
Then she lost her train of thought as his mouth covered hers in a searing, devouring kiss. Though she knew that what she was doing was wrong, she slid her hands around him to stroke his back, feeling a desperate desire to touch him. With a ragged groan, he deepened their kiss, his tongue plunging and stroking while he filled his hands
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with her breasts, his fingers teasing he
r nipples through the material of her gown.
"Too many clothes," he muttered against her lips.
With swift urgency, he removed her cloak and began undressing her, releasing the buttons on her bodice and pushing it and her chemise down over her arms, baring her breasts.
"Falcon, what are you doing? Rosamond—"
"Nay, do not speak her name," Falcon said raggedly. "I want to make love to you. I need to make love to you."
Marian needed it, too, even though she knew she would probably go to hell for sinning with him again. Her first grave sin had been taking Falcon to her bed while she was still wed to Edmond, and this time her sin would be bedding a married man. She had to try one last time to tell Falcon that she knew he was wed to Rosamond.
"Falcon, listen to me. Rosamond—"
"Nay, say naught. Just let me love you. We can talk later."
He lowered his head, his tongue laving swirls around her nipples and then drawing each aroused bud into the velvety heat of his mouth. Try as she might, Mariah couldn't help arching her back in a silent plea for him to taste more of her.
With a hoarse groan, he swiftly undressed her, his hands shaking with need. Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. His doublet and boots were quickly shed, leaving naught but his hose full to bursting with his hardened flesh. Apprehension gnawed at her as he stripped off his hose, baring the awesome strength of his desire.
He sank to his knees beside her, trailing wet, open-
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mouthed kisses along her stomach. She sucked in a breath, inhaling deeply of his erotic musk. His tongue tasted the indentation of her navel; her muscles tensed, quivered.
"Spread your legs, Mariah," he demanded in a raw rasp.
Feeling as if she were being burned to a cinder, she obeyed. He rewarded her by lowering his head and stroking the swollen, wet folds between her thighs. It had always been thus with Falcon, Mariah thought before all coherent thought fled. She had no resistance where he was concerned.