by Connie Mason
Mariah clung to him; a myriad of emotions raced through her brain, a hundred questions were on the tip of her tongue. But she could do naught but repeat his name, over and over.
"It's all right, Mariah," Falcon soothed. "I'm here. You're safe now. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
Mariah opened her mouth to ask how he'd known where to find her but the words froze in her throat when Falcon claimed her lips. His kiss stole not only her words but her senses. Her arms circled his neck as he pulled her closer, his mouth ravishing hers with such passion, Mariah feared her bones would melt.
When Falcon finally broke off the kiss, Mariah went limp. His arms tightened around her and he held her close to his heart.
"Foolish woman," he said. "You cannot begin to know how worried I was about you. Why did you leave my bed without a word of explanation? Why did you leave London before I had time to muster my men? I thought you understood that I would help you reclaim Mildenhall."
"I hoped you would, but realized it was a foolish dream after I spoke with Rosamond."
"You called on Rosamond?"
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"Aye. I didn't know where to find you and hoped she would tell me where you were."
" Tis too dangerous to stand in plain sight, even though it is the middle of the night," Falcon said as he grasped the horse's reins and led Mariah and her mount into the forest. When they came to a small clearing, he tethered the horse to a sapling and grasped her hand. Then he seated her on a grassy mound, unbuckled his sword, leaned it against a tree and dropped down beside her.
"What did Rosamond tell you?"
Mariah hesitated. Though she didn't feel comfortable in disparaging Falcon's wife, she didn't want to lie to Falcon. "She told me about your marriage."
Falcon cursed beneath his breath. "Go on. What else did Rosamond tell you?"
"She said you intended to join the king in France."
"That much was true. Did she tell you where to find me?"
"Nay, she refused. She told me to stay away from you."
"But you did find me. We met outside my lodgings."
Mariah sighed. "Our meeting was a coincidence. I happened to be on my way to my own lodgings at the time. With the king away and unable to help me, and you married, I realized I had to depend upon myself to outwit Osgood and reclaim Mildenhall for Robbie. I left Robbie with Becca in London and returned to Mildenhall."
A slim beam of moonlight pierced through an opening in the clouds, revealing Falcon's features. His expression was hard, angry. Shivering, Mariah leaned away from him.
His arms circled her shoulders and brought her closer against him. "You're cold."
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"Nay. Your expression is . . . frightening. Are you angry at me?"
"When I awakened and found you gone, I was furious. I couldn't imagine why you would sneak away like that. I had no idea where to find you, or what I'd said or done to make you angry."
"You did naught, 'twas I. I realized I had no right to burden you with my problems. You are wed; you owe me and Robbie naught."
"Damn Rosamond! She lied. I didn't marry her, Mariah. I decided I couldn't live the way she wanted me to."
Joy surged through Mariah. He wasn't married! Then another thought occurred. "Oh, Falcon, how could you give up everything Rosamond had to offer, everything you've ever wanted?"
" 'Twas easy. I've gotten along just fine without land or wealth. Forgive me for not telling you in London, but I assumed you'd know I wasn't wed when you found me in my bachelor lodgings. I searched for you after you left, and would have continued the search if Becca hadn't come to me."
Shock shuddered through Mariah. "Becca came to you?"
"Aye, she brought Robbie to my lodgings. Being alone and friendless in London terrified her."
"I knew she didn't like London, but she assured me that she and Robbie could fend for themselves for a while. I did what I thought best to keep Robbie safe. I'm on my way to rejoin them now."
"There's no need, Mariah. Becca and Robbie are staying at the Traveler's Inn in Cambridge. I took them there myself. Cambridge is a small, quiet town; they will be
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safe until things are settled at Mildenhall. I left a man to guard them, so you have naught to worry about."
Mariah nearly collapsed in relief. "Thank you. Now I can concentrate on reclaiming my home without worrying about Robbie."
"Tell me everything that's happened since you left London."
Mariah hesitated a moment to gather her thoughts. "I reached the village without incident and stayed at the inn a few days to formulate my plans before confronting Osgood." Then the rest came tumbling out—how she'd gained freedom for her men and sent them to fetch help. She tried to gloss over the part where she'd promised to bring Robbie back to Mildenhall, but Falcon would have none of it.
"You what?" Falcon gasped. "Repeat what you just said."
"I lied to Osgood. I would never place Robbie in Osgood's keeping. I lied to free my guardsmen. I needed them to fetch help from Edmond's neighbors."
"What did you think would happen to you when you refused to return your son to Mildenhall?"
"I hoped Sir Maynard would return with help before I had to admit that I'd lied."
"Finish your story. You said Osgood's mercenary was ordered to keep you imprisoned in your chamber at the inn until Walter arrived. How did you escape?"
Mariah related all the details to Falcon's satisfaction, including her meeting with Sir Maynard and her instructions to him. She also related Dame Helen's part in her escape.
"Good for Dame Helen," Falcon said.
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"I didn't want to leave," Mariah said. "Osgood threatened to kill Sir Martin and the servants if I tried to trick him. I shouldn't have listened to Dame Helen. Fleeing as I did places my people in danger."
"Have you any idea what Osgood might have done to you when you refused to reveal your son's location?"
Mariah shrugged. "It didn't matter as long as Robbie was safe. And I held to the hope that Edmond's friends and neighbors would come to my defense. I know the king would have intervened if he was in London, but I didn't have the funds to remain in the city until his return. His absence could have been a lengthy one."
Falcon glared at her. "Your thinking was faulty, Mariah. Your first mistake was leaving my bed without telling me where to find you. Everything you did after that placed your life in danger."
Mariah bristled. "You should have told me you weren't married before we ... before we ..."
"Before we made love? I had no idea you'd spoken with Rosamond. I intended to tell you that Rosamond and I had parted ways, but my need for you was immediate. Forgive me, Mariah. We both did things we shouldn't have; neither of us was thinking clearly that day. Admit it—you wanted me as badly as I wanted you."
"Mayhap I did, but I suffered for it. I believed I'd made love to a married man. Guilt weighed heavily upon me."
He touched her face, letting his fingers slide down her cheek and lower. The pulse in her neck jumped when his fingers lingered there.
"It will be dawn soon," Falcon murmured. "We have so little time."
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He rose and spread his cloak on the ground, then grasped Mariah's hand. "Lie with me, sweeting."
"Here?"
"I can think of no better place."
He knelt on his cloak and pulled Mariah down beside him. She resisted but a moment before following her heart's desire. Refusing Falcon anything was impossible.
Gently he laid her down and covered her with his body. A pale sliver of moonlight filtered through the trees, illuminating the tense, drawn lines of his face. Mariah was surprised to realize just how deep his concern for her had been.
She melted into his kiss, stroking his cheek. His stubble of beard rasped against her palm. How dearly she loved this man. How desperately she wanted to tell him the truth about Robbie—that he was Robbie's father.
/> Falcon couldn't get enough of Mariah's kisses. Her mouth tasted sweeter than honey; her body, so familiar to him, was dearer than life. Why had it taken him so long to realize that everything he'd ever wanted rested right here in his arms?
He wanted her naked, but the night was too cold. Danger surrounded them, he could smell it in the air. Come dawn, he would take Mariah to Cambridge, where she would remain safe while he won back Mildenhall for her and Robbie. But tonight, before dawn parted them, all he could think about was making love to her.
He found the hem of her skirt and slid his hand beneath it, raising the material as his fingers skimmed along her leg and thigh.
"I want to make love to you, Mariah."
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He caressed her stomach as he lifted her skirt higher, baring her lower body to his avid gaze. "I wish I could see you more clearly. One day soon, sweeting, I will have you naked beneath me in a soft bed where no one will disturb us."
Mariah gasped when he sifted his fingers through her feminine hair, seeking the tender folds of her womanhood.
"Lower your bodice for me-—I want to taste your breasts."
Mariah didn't hesitate. Once she'd freed her breasts, Falcon's mouth fastened on a nipple, sucking, licking, teasing the tender bud fully erect. Then he shifted his attention to the other nipple, lavishing the same attention on it. When she moaned and arched against him, Falcon's mouth left her breasts, gliding over the smooth skin of her belly to her weeping center.
His tongue slid between the succulent folds, savoring the sweetness of her passion. He could taste her forever, but fear of discovery and lack of time made that impossible.
"Falcon . . ." His name whispered from her lips on a long sigh.
With great reluctance, he lifted his head from the vee between her legs. "I know, love, I feel the same things you do. I'd like to draw this out longer, but we cannot linger here."
He scooted upward, lowered his body flush against hers and kissed her. She responded eagerly, her mouth opening beneath his, tongues tangling, breath mingling.
Falcon broke off the kiss; she looked up at him. The planes of his face were taut with passion, his eyes stark with need. He fumbled with his hose, and then his ram-
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pant sex sprang free. "Open your legs for me, love." His voice was harsh, grating, his breathing erratic.
Her legs fell apart; he settled between them, fitting his loins in the cradle of her thighs. "Take me, Mariah. Take me now."
Shaking with need, Mariah felt the rigid length of his sex pressing against her thigh. She wanted him inside her, needed to feel his strength. Reaching between them, she clasped his staff and brought it to her throbbing center. She felt the tip penetrate her, but it wasn't enough. She needed all of him.
Grasping his buttocks, she arched upward, forcing him deeper. But he still wasn't deep enough. "Falcon, please."
"Aye, love, we shall please each other."
Flexing his hips, he drove himself to the hilt, filling her completely. Mariah gave a satisfied sigh as she moved in tandem with his forceful thrusts, raising her hips high to take everything he had to offer, just as she gave him her all.
Mariah soared, heat seared her; she was afire, from her breasts to her loins. Her breath caught, nearly stopped altogether as her body grew rigid. Then the contractions started, followed by pleasure so physically powerful, so glorious, that she cried out Falcon's name.
Falcon covered her lips, taking her cries into his mouth as his own climax exploded through his body. He stiffened, shuddered, and emptied himself inside her. Mariah accepted the comfort of his weight as he collapsed against her, holding him tightly, never wanting to let him go.
Falcon lifted himself away from her. "As much as I would like to lie here with you, I cannot, love. If I don't return to camp soon, Sir Dennis will send out a search party. You'll come with me, of course."
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He rose, lifted her to her feet and adjusted his hose. Then he helped her fasten her bodice and smooth her skirts into place.
"I cannot go with you," Mariah said, startling Falcon.
"What in damnation are you talking about?"
"I must return to Mildenhall. Osgood holds Sir Martin and my people hostage. Their lives are at risk."
A mixture of anger and frustration made Falcon's voice harsh. "I won't let you return. You can't go backward, only forward."
"Listen to me, Falcon," Mariah pleaded. "I instructed my guardsmen and allies to rendezvous nearby to plan their strategy for reclaiming Mildenhall. If I return to the keep, it won't be for long. Now that you're here, our victory is assured. Once my guardsmen arrive with reinforcements, Osgood cannot hold Mildenhall. He will be forced to surrender."
"I know that, but have you considered what might happen to you in the meantime? Don't you realize Osgood will take his anger out on you, and might even kill your people in retaliation? Nay, Mariah; you're coming with me and that's final."
Though Mariah saw the wisdom of Falcon's words, she still felt as though she were abandoning those she'd left behind at Mildenhall.
"Stay here while I fetch your horse and my sword," Falcon ordered.
Consumed with guilt and worried for her people, Mariah turned away from Falcon and began fidgeting with her hair, smoothing it into some semblance of order. If she had to face Falcon's men, she wanted to look pre-
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sentable. A slight noise behind her did not trouble her. Nor did approaching footsteps, for she assumed they belonged to Falcon.
She whirled to confront him; she wanted to try one last time to convince him to let her return to Mildenhall. "I still think I should—"
Rough hands seized her shoulders. "You've caused me a lot of trouble, lady," a gruff voice growled into her ear.
Panic-stricken, Mariah flinched away from the man whose punishing grip dug hurtfully into her soft flesh.
"You!"
"Aye, me," said the mercenary. "Did you think I wouldn't find you? I told you before that Sir Osgood wouldn't accept failure. I know not who struck me, but I am convinced it was your guardsman—the man I just killed." He grinned. "He'll never raise a sword to anyone again."
"Where is ..." Color drained from Mariah's face. Was he referring to Falcon? "What did you do to him?"
"Never mind him. He's dead. He cannot help you."
Mariah screamed, pounding him with her fists. "You killed him, you scurvy beast?"
"Tis no more than he deserved." He covered her mouth with his hammy fist, stifling the screams she had hoped would alert Falcon's men. "Sir Osgood was wrong to free your guardsmen. Trusting you was another of his mistakes."
As he started to drag her back toward the road, Mariah saw Falcon. He was sprawled on his stomach on the ground, as still as death, a trail of blood seeping from beneath him. A kind of madness seized her as she tried des-
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perately to free herself. But the mercenary merely laughed at her puny efforts. She did, however, manage to free her mouth.
"Wait! Maybe my man is still alive. Let me tend to his wounds."
"Nay, lady. If he isn't dead, he soon will be. My blade pierced his heart."
Nay, Falcon couldn't be dead. "How did you find us?"
"I have good ears. I heard voices."
Though Mariah struggled fiercely, she was no match for the mercenary. He dragged her through the forest to the road where he had tethered his horse. He pitched Mariah into the saddle, untied his mount and leapt up behind her.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Back to the inn. You'll be there when Sir Walter arrives to fetch you. Say your prayers, lady, for he will deal harshly with you."
"How will he deal with you when I tell him you fell asleep on guard duty and let me escape?"
The man's jaw clenched. "But you haven't escaped, have you?"
Mariah had no answer to that. Inside she was crying for Falcon. He couldn't be dead. Wouldn't she feel the loss in her h
eart if he no longer lived and breathed? Sadness overwhelmed her. Was Falcon to die an ignominious death alone, without a friend beside him to lend comfort? Nay! Sir Dennis would find him, she had to believe that. And if God was good, Falcon's injury wouldn't prove fatal.
The one thought that cheered her was the mercenary's failure to correctly identify Falcon. He thought Falcon
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was one of Mildenhall's defenders, and she hadn't corrected him.
If Falcon died, a part of her would die with him. She would never forgive herself for not telling him the truth about his son. Ruthlessly she drove the thought of Falcon dying from her mind. He would live—she refused to believe otherwise. He was strong, his strength and her prayers would save him.
Dawn was breaking as they reached the inn. Dame Helen's mouth flew open when the mercenary dragged Mariah inside. Master Maypole held his wife back when she would have gone to Mariah.
"My lady, what happened?"
Mariah warned Helen with her eyes to say naught.
"The witch escaped from her room," the mercenary spat. "I don't suppose either of you know anything about it?"
"How could we? My good husband and I were in our bed. We just arose to begin our day."
"Has Sir Walter arrived?"
"Not yet," Maypole answered.
"Did I hear my name?"
Mariah groaned as Walter entered the inn.
"What's going on?" Walter asked.
"Lady Mariah attempted an escape," the mercenary replied. He sent Mariah a smug smirk. "She didn't get far."
"I thought you were smarter than that, Mariah," Walter chided. He shoved Mariah toward the door. "Shall we go fetch Robbie now?"
"Wait!" Helen cried. "Lady Mariah hasn't broken her fast."
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