The scents of blood and a freshly-made fire greeted her as she stepped inside. The King’s Falcon, still wearing his dark garments, chain mail armor, and helm, lay on the bed that had been pushed to the middle of the chamber. His head and shoulders were propped up by feather pillows stained with blood. The healer sat on a wooden stool at his left side, examining the oozing wound under his collarbone, while Ren and Liliana’s father were at his right side. The man groaned, his body tensing while the healer worked.
As Liliana entered, his head turned, and again, she felt his intense gaze upon her.
“God above,” Averil whispered, pushing the door closed behind her. “Who is he?”
“He is known as the King’s Falcon,” Ren answered. He met Liliana’s gaze, and his features tautened with worry. “He lost consciousness. The healer says he has lost a lot of blood.”
“Why is he still wearing his helm and armor?” Liliana asked, her tone becoming sharp. “Surely if those were removed, ’twould be easier for her to tend him.”
“True,” Ren said gently. “However, the healer wanted to look at the injury first, to determine what supplies she’d need to gather and bring here.”
Liliana approached the bed, sensing Averil a few steps behind. “Will he…?” She couldn’t finish her words. If this man were Haddon, he had to be all right.
If he were Haddon…
How desperately she wanted to know.
The King’s Falcon’s head turned again. His lips pulled back from his teeth on a sharp hiss as the healer probed his injury. “Leave us,” he rasped.
Nodding, the healer drew back, wiping her hands on a rag. “I will fetch what I need. I will return shortly. ’Twould be best if his armor is removed, milords.” She left the chamber, the door shutting with a click.
A tense silence settled. Then, looking at the wounded man, Ren asked quietly, “Are you ready?”
“Aye.”
Liliana’s heart hammered against her ribs. That voice… No longer a low rasp, she recognized it as surely as her own.
She held her breath as Ren leaned forward, took hold of the bottom edges of the helm, and lifted. The headpiece pulled free, revealing bronzed skin and tousled blond hair the same color as her own.
She met the man’s blue-eyed gaze.
Haddon.
A cry broke from her.
Behind her, her sire swore softly.
Averil gasped.
Sobs wrenching from her lips, Liliana brushed past her father and Ren and hugged her brother. Her face pressed against Haddon’s right shoulder and neck, Liliana wept. Oh, how she’d missed him, and how glad she was that he was home.
His torso shifted slightly under her, and then his heavy arm curved around her waist, hugging her back. Joy and anguish flared up inside her, and her sobs intensified. Over the sound of her crying, she heard her father walk up behind her, heard him whisper “My son,” and then her sire’s arms were embracing both of them.
Long moments later, her father stepped away. Liliana’s sobs had slowed to ragged breaths and shudders. She lifted her head and straightened.
Her gaze traveled his face, damp with his own tears. He looked older, different, and not just because of the scar…
Another cry wrenched from her. The gruesome, puckered slash cut the left side of his face from brow to jaw. An awful injury. Disfiguring, as Ren had said.
Sadness and bitterness clouded Haddon’s eyes and he looked away, his jaw clenching. “I am a hideous sight, I know.”
Hideous? Liliana shook her head. “Nay, Haddon—”
“I am. I know I am. You do not need to be kind.”
Her throat tightened on a surge of anguish. His handsome visage might be scarred, but he was still her brother. Her love for him would always be strong and true, regardless of the years that had passed or what had happened to him.
She took his right hand, lying on the bed, and curled her fingers through his. His palm was rough, callused, the sign of a fighting man, but she gently squeezed his hand. “I missed you, Haddon.” Her words ended on a choked breath.
His gaze returned to her, a hint of warmth in his cold stare.
“As have I,” Averil said, standing at the left side of the bed.
“I told you, Haddon,” Ren added from behind Liliana. “He was not convinced that you would be happy to see him.
“God’s holy bones! Of course we are glad to see him,” Liliana’s sire said. “How could we not be?” He moved to the foot of the bed, and Liliana felt the tremor racing through her brother’s arm. She squeezed him tighter.
“Having you back, Son,” her sire said. “’Tis…a wondrous gift.”
“A miracle,” Liliana added. Fresh tears moistened her eyes as she looked at Ren. How very, very grateful she was for all he’d done to bring Haddon home.
He smiled. Then, his gaze slid to Haddon. “Before the healer returns, can you tell us what happened to you?”
“I took an arrow in the shoulder this morning,” Haddon said. “It broke through my chain mail. I managed to pull the arrow out, but the wound was graver than I thought.”
“Who shot you?” Liliana asked.
Haddon hesitated, as though debating whether to answer or not. Then, with a sigh, he said, “A thug I had been pursuing. Yesterday, with the local sheriff’s help, I captured the leader of a band of cutthroats preying upon merchants in Lincoln. Three men were arrested. They are in gaol, to be sent to London for trial. Five thugs got away. I knew several of them had circled back and were hunting me, but I thought I’d eluded them overnight. However, they surprised me on a forest road.” He grimaced. “I killed them. However, before I did so, one of them loosed his arrow.”
“Why did you not go to the nearest healer for help?” Liliana asked.
“I was thinking the same,” Averil added.
“I started for the closest town,” Haddon said. “However, I must have fainted. I woke to find myself in the forest, hunched over the neck of my destrier. Thankfully, my horse had moved into the trees so I was not visible from the road. ’Twas afternoon by then, and I sensed snow was on the way. I also knew the remaining thugs were likely searching for me. I decided ’twas safer to ride straight to Maddlestow.”
“A wise decision,” Liliana’s father said. “No one will harm you here.”
“There is one thing I must know,” Liliana said, her fingers still linked through Haddon’s. How often she’d voiced that same statement when they were younger.
Haddon’s mouth tilted in a faint grin, as if he remembered too. “Mmm?”
“How did you become the King’s Falcon?”
“The lord who served in this role before me wanted to return to a quiet life on his estate,” Haddon said. “When I was injured on Crusade, King Richard offered me the position. He told me, though, that I could have no contact with my family. I would have to be reported dead. At that point, ’twas an arrangement I was glad to accept.”
“And now?” Liliana whispered, almost afraid of the reply.
Haddon’s fingers pressed hers. “Now I am glad to be home.”
She smiled.
“What happens to the King’s Falcon now?” Liliana’s sire asked.
“Another man will take my place. My mission yesterday was to be my last for the crown. The king has already chosen my successor.” Haddon looked at his father and then Ren. “While I think of it, there are matters I did not manage to do. Things I should have done.”
“Tell us” Ren said. “We will see to them.”
Haddon’s eyes slipped closed. He looked exhausted. “For a start, my helm and garments are to be destroyed. I made a vow—”
“’Twill be done,” Ren said. “Do not worry.”
“Before you do that, however,” Haddon cautioned, his eyes opening a fraction, “I must be seen riding away from the castle. I will not bring enemies of the King’s Falcon to Maddlestow. The last thing I want is to put my family in danger.”
“Myles has a similar stature to
you. I am sure he will help with that ruse,” Liliana’s sire said. “He, Ren, and I will devise a plan so that his departure is convincing.”
“Good.” Haddon sighed. “Thank you. I just realized we must also have an explanation for my suddenly being back at Maddlestow. The king has promised to send a document, proclaiming that I was mistakenly believed dead. Until then, though, we must be able to justify my return. We must all tell the same story.”
Liliana’s sire thoughtfully scratched his chin. “You cannot be the first knight to have been declared dead on Crusade, only to later have been found to be alive. We can say you were completing a secret and very dangerous mission in the east for the king. There is at least a hint of truth in that explanation.”
Haddon nodded slowly. “All right.”
“In regards to you getting inside the castle without others having noticed,” Liliana said, “I have the perfect answer for that. Do you remember, Haddon, when you found the secret passageway leading from the solar down to the bailey? The one in which the outer door opens near the postern gate in the castle’s rear wall? Myles will no doubt recall that day because he was guarding the postern when you suddenly stumbled out the door.”
Haddon laughed softly. “I do remember. I gave him quite a shock.”
“You did. Myles can say he caught you sneaking back into the castle through that secret passageway. You recently returned to England and intended to surprise Father.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Haddon agreed. He sighed wearily, and his eyes closed again.
A brisk rap, and the chamber door opened. The healer entered carrying a basket filled with jars and pots and a thick stack of clean linen. Upon seeing Haddon’s ashen, scarred face, she hesitated, then crossed to the bedside and set down her supplies.
“He is still wearing his chain mail,” the healer noted.
“We will remove it now,” Liliana’s father said. “We had matters to discuss.”
Another knock on the door, and several maidservants hurried in with buckets of steaming water. Another servant carried a metal implement; she shoved it into the fire, and Liliana shuddered, for she’d seen such an implement used before.
“His wound will need to be sealed shut, and he is going to require a great many stitches,” the healer said. Her anxious gaze flicked about the chamber. “I am afraid, milord, that after drinking so much ale, my eyesight is not as sharp as it should be.”
“I am good with stitches,” Ren said. “I will gladly help.”
“Thank you, Lord de Vornay. Now, if you will forgive me, I must ask the rest of you to leave. ’Twill be easier for us to work. We will do all we can to save this man’s life.”
“This man is my son,” Liliana’s sire said, before Liliana could say a word. “Whatever you must do to save him, see it done.”
Chapter Eleven
Her chin braced on her hand, Liliana stared at the dwindling fire. After leaving Haddon’s chamber, she and Averil had gone to the room they used for sewing, both of them too worried about Haddon to return to the revelry in the hall. Rosy, too excited to sleep, had joined them. The little girl had played with her doll for a while. Then, rubbing at her eyes, she’d curled up on Averil’s lap. Both mother and daughter were now fast asleep. Averil’s head lolled against the chair back while the little girl slept with her cheek pressed to her mother’s bosom.
Smiling at the tender image Averil and Rosy made together, Liliana looked back at the hearth. Her limbs ached with fatigue. However, she wouldn’t rest until she knew Haddon was all right. Surely there would be some word soon. If not, she would go to the north tower and ask after her brother.
A light knock sounded on the open door. Ren entered, his cloak draped over his left arm.
Liliana swiftly rose. “How is Haddon?”
“He is sleeping,” Ren said in hushed tones, crossing to her.
“All went well with his stitches?”
Ren nodded. Taking her hands in his, he said, “The healer believes that with plenty of rest and good care, Haddon will fully recover.”
“Oh, Ren.” She hugged him fiercely. “’Tis good news.”
“The healer will stay at his bedside through the night,” Ren murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “She will summon your sire if problems arise, but she does not expect there to be any.”
Thank God. Haddon was going to be all right.
Drawing back from her embrace, Ren glanced at Averil and Rosy. They hadn’t stirred. Whispering, he said, “I could use some fresh air. Would you like to take a walk?”
“Aye. I will need to stop by my chamber and get my mantle and gloves.”
“All right. I will meet you outside this chamber.”
Liliana hastened to her room. She donned her mantle, and as she fastened it closed with her cloak pin, her gaze fell to the linen chest. A ripple of excitement ran through her. She opened the chest, took out the wrapped parcel, tucked it under her arm, and went to meet Ren.
***
Ren stepped out onto the battlement where he and Liliana had talked before. The cold, heavy night air hit him like an icy wallop. Snowflakes drifted down from the sky and landed on his hair and cloak. Icy softness brushed his cheek.
“’Tis snowing! How lovely,” Liliana breathed. Walking beside him along the battlement, Liliana held out her hand and caught a snowflake in her gloved palm. She laughed. Her eyes shone in the light of a nearby torch, and joy lit her features. White flakes settled on her hair like flower petals. The exquisite beauty of her warmed him, not just in his heart, but his soul.
They walked on, and the heavy silence of their surroundings seeped into him. The revelry in the great hall had finished; after attending the Angel’s Mass in the chapel, the castle folk had gone to their beds. All was still in the darkness before the new day: Christmas Day. He blew out a breath, the strain of Haddon’s return finally easing from him.
Liliana halted beside a stone merlon and faced him. She shivered a little, but her smile hadn’t faded. “’Tis beautiful, aye?”
“Very much so,” he agreed, his gaze skimming over her face.
Snowflakes fell on her lashes, forcing her to blink hard. She met his gaze again, and warmth softened her eyes. The small distance between them suddenly seemed filled with heat. “Tonight,” she said softly, “has been one of the happiest moments of my life.”
“I am pleased—”
“Thanks to you,” she added.
Ren smiled.
“I am very grateful for all you have done, Ren. Without you…” She swallowed hard. “Haddon would never have found his way home. Truly, I can never thank you enough.”
You could thank me with a kiss, his lusty mind answered. Her lips had reddened from the cold, and ’twould be an easy, pleasurable way to warm them. Instead, he caught her hands. As he lifted her arms, he sensed slight resistance from her left one. She was holding something under her arm, what looked like a wrapped parcel.
Noticing his gaze, she grinned. Freeing her right hand, she withdrew the package tied with twine and handed it to him.
“What is this?” he murmured.
“Open it.”
“’Tis a gift?”
“Aye. By now ’tis already Christmas Day, so there is no reason to wait.”
He was about to protest; he hadn’t brought either of his gifts for her. However, such anticipation gleamed in her eyes that he simply couldn’t resist. He untied the twine, and then drew back the edges of the linen to reveal a leather bag. The items inside bumped together with a muffled thump.
As he reached into the bag, his fingers brushed a cool, solid object. He recognized the texture and material: wood. Tingles of shock and recognition danced across his nape as he drew out the carving he hadn’t seen in many, many years.
His eyes burned. “You kept it,” he whispered.
“Of course. I admit, I was not completely certain ’twas from you.”
“I handed it to one of the servants to give to you before I left M
addlestow,” Ren said, his fingers trailing over the horse’s polished side. “This was one of my favorites. It took me weeks.”
“You carved it?”
“Aye.”
“Averil is right,” Liliana said softly, her tone brimming with admiration. “You are a man of a great many talents.”
Lust stirred in his groin. He couldn’t let that comment slip by. Holding her gaze, Ren winked. “Averil does not know the half of it.”
A lovely blush colored Liliana’s face. “Ren—”
He pressed his gloved finger to her lips, silencing her as she’d done to him before.
Her eyes widened.
“Do not say another word,” he rasped.
“Why?” she whispered, her full, rose-red lips shifting against the leather of his glove. Need licked through his loins, and he fought a shudder.
“Shh,” he said as he stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Closer, closer he moved until his cloak pressed to her mantle. Their breaths mingled, two hazy curls of white in the frigid air. Slowly, so slowly, he slid his finger across her lips and down her chin, to settle under her jaw. Gently tilting her face up, he looked down into her eyes.
He dipped his head to kiss her. A sigh—a sound of acute anticipation—rushed from her as their mouths met. Her lips molded to his, as hungry as his own. He groaned deep in his throat, drowning in the taste of her. Her body heat warmed him, while the snowflakes melting on his face and lips sent icy shivers racing over his skin. Heat and ice. So akin to their relationship, until now.
With a helpless moan, she slid her arms around his neck, holding him tight. The firm roundness of her breasts crushed against him, and his desire sharpened, for he could imagine how perfect she’d be clothed only in candlelight. How he yearned to know all of her, every beautiful dip and swell of her body.
I love you, Liliana. I love you. I always have.
Suddenly, he could stand still no longer. Still kissing her, holding tight to the bag and the horse, he slid his arms around her and lifted her, drawing her away from the stone wall.
Her lips left his as she gasped, startled. He spun her around, the hems of her cloak and gown drifting. She giggled and continued kissing him, snow melting on their lips, her tongue delving deep, each kiss more tempting, more perfect than the last.
A Merry Medieval Christmas Box Set Page 55