Connie Mason (5 page)

Sinking down into the mattress, Falcon closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. He didn’t awaken until Chad arrived with a pitcher of water and shaving equipment.

“Can you manage by yourself?” Chad asked.

“Did your mistress send you?”

“Aye.” He took note of Falcon’s rumpled clothing and
asked, “Shall I take your clothing to be refreshed? It shouldn’t take long. ’Tis early, and we won’t break fast for another hour.”

“I was so tired last night I didn’t take time to undress. If I’m to be presentable, it would probably be best to have my clothes sponged and pressed.”

Falcon peeled off his shirt, doublet and hose and handed them to Chad. He felt stronger this morning, more like himself, whoever that might be. He was attempting to shave when Edwina entered the chamber. He dove for the coverlet to cover himself.

Edwina cackled to herself. “No need for that, Sir Knight. I’ve seen you without a stitch on before. How do you fare after your first day out of bed?”

“Well enough. I need to regain my strength so I can search for my identity.”

“Do not be hasty,” Edwina warned. “Give your body and mind time to heal.”

“I had a nightmare last night,” Falcon revealed. “I dreamed I was in the middle of a battle, wielding a sword. Then the scene shifted and I was lying on the ground, being pummeled with cudgels. I woke with sweat pouring off me and fighting for breath.”

“Did none of that jog your memory?” Edwina asked.

He shook his head. “Are you here for a reason?”

“Aye, I wanted to see for myself how you are doing after sitting through the evening meal.”

“It fair exhausted me, but I had to start somewhere. Lying in bed is driving me mad.”

Edwina peered at him. “You look well enough. Lord Edmond asked me to check on you.”

“Lord Edmond appears to be a good man. Is he as sick as he looks?”

Edwina nodded gravely. “Aye, he has been ill for a long time. His illness progresses to a natural conclusion. There is naught anyone can do for him.”

“Poor Mariah. She will be alone when her father dies. How long does he have?”

“A week, a month, a year—’tis in God’s hands. Lord Edmond’s greatest fear is that Mariah will be left to the mercy of his scurrilous brother and greedy nephew after his death.”

“I do not understand.”

“ ’Tis simple enough. Without a male heir, the earldom and all it entails will pass to Edmond’s brother, Sir Osgood Fitzhugh.”

“Sir Osgood Fitzhugh,” Falcon repeated thoughtfully.

“Do you know the name?”

“The name sounds familiar. I will think on it.”

Edwina left when Chad returned with Falcon’s clothing. Falcon finished shaving, dressed quickly and proceeded with great care down the staircase to the hall. Men and women, some whom he recognized from last night, were already seated at long tables set up in the hall. A servant escorted him to the high table. Mariah joined him a short time later. She barely acknowledged him.

Platters of food began to arrive. Falcon helped himself to eggs, ham, kippers and cod. Another thing he’d learned about himself was that he had a healthy appetite, in more ways than one.

“How is your father this morning?” he asked Mariah around a mouthful of eggs.

Mariah, he noted, concentrated on her food instead of looking at him. “There is no change.”

“I’m sorry about his poor health. He is very old. I’d be grateful to live past middle age.”

Mariah shot him a quelling look.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

“Nay, ’tis just that I am concerned about Edmond’s health.”

Edmond again, not Father
. Strange, but he had heard of stranger things, if he could remember them. “I thought you might be angry with me.”

Mariah gazed at him then, studying his features. His face was no longer swollen, revealing the handsomest man Mariah had ever seen. His golden eyes held a hint of amusement, reminding her of the stolen moments of intimacy they had shared last night. She had tried to forget, but how could she when she could still feel the softness of his lips against hers and the roughness of his tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth?

“I’m not angry. But you shouldn’t have taken liberties.”

“Why not? You are a widow, not a nun. I thought our attraction was mutual.”

Mariah hated living a lie. She wanted to blurt out that Edmond was her husband, but if she did and lost her one chance of having a son, Mildenhall would cease to exist as she knew it after Edmond’s death. For Edmond’s peace of mind and for the people of Mildenhall, she must seduce Sir Knight for the child he could give her. And it had to be soon, before he regained his memory.

Last night Edmond had spoken to her at length about the future of Mildenhall. He had impressed upon her that her future and the future of those she loved rested on her
shoulders. Long after she had retired, she realized that her sacrifice wouldn’t be a sacrifice at all. In fact, if the kiss she’d shared with Sir Knight last night was any indication, she would find pleasure in his arms.

Falcon pushed back his plate. “Would you like to show me around, Lady Mariah? I’d like to start with the grounds.”

Mariah scraped back her chair. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“I need to stretch my legs. I am a man accustomed to pushing my body to its limits.”

“How do you know that?”

“ ’Tis merely a feeling. Just like the feeling that tells me this isn’t the first time I have suffered wounds to my body. It is, however, the first time I lost my memory because of them.”

They walked from the hall into the sunshine. Falcon blinked, raised his head and savored the fresh air. Mariah pointed out the various buildings in the inner bailey and what they were used for. Everything Falcon saw looked familiar. He realized that he had been inside or lived in a castle much grander than this at one time. He could name every part of the fortress, from the portcullis to the crenellations topping the parapet.

“Are you tired yet?” Mariah asked.

“Nay, I wish to see the stables.”

“You won’t find your horse there.”

“Nevertheless, I want to see how familiar I am around horses.”

“Very familiar, I suspect.”

The stables felt like home to Falcon, a place where he felt comfortable. After admiring the horseflesh in Lord
Edmond’s stable, he left with a sense of belonging in this kind of environment, and a belief that it was only a matter of time before he knew where he fit in. Meanwhile, there was Mariah, a woman who intrigued him more with each passing day.

Sometimes she looked at him as if she wanted something from him. If it was sex, he would happily oblige, once he felt strong enough to make it good for both of them. He had almost reached that point now.

Falcon did not return to his bed that day, for he felt strong enough now to remain upright for long periods. That night after the evening meal, he played chess with Lord Edmond while Mariah looked on. During the following days he practiced at swordplay with Sir Maynard, the captain of Mildenhall’s guards, and proved himself a capable swordsman. Now that Falcon’s strength had returned, he hoped to heal his memory, and remaining hidden away at Mildenhall wouldn’t do that for him.

One day Falcon asked Mariah to take him to the cotter who had found him.

“Very well,” Mariah agreed, “but I doubt you will learn anything from him. You can choose a horse from Edmond’s stables.”

Mariah had proven correct. The cotter told him naught that he hadn’t already learned from Mariah and Edwina. Then he asked Mariah to take him to the place where he had been found. After asking directions from the cotter, Mariah and Falcon started off to search for Falcon’s past.

When they arrived at the place described by the cotter, Falcon dismounted. He stood in the middle of the roadbed, searching for something, anything that would
jog his memory. He looked around him, at the dense forest lining either side of the road. His brow furrowed in concentration as an image flashed before his eyes. But it fled, vanquished by a crushing pain in his head.

A groan ripped from his throat; he clasped his head between his hands, trying to fight the agony that threatened to consume him.

“What is it?” Mariah asked as she leapt from her horse and came to his aid.

Falcon wagged his head from side to side. “There was something—I almost had it but I lost it. The pain—damnation, why can’t I remember?”

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Like the very devil.”

“Come, there’s a place nearby where you can rest until the pain goes away. Follow me.”

Leading their horses through the trees, Mariah guided Falcon to a grassy bank beside a babbling brook. Falcon dropped to the ground and rested his head against his crossed arms, waiting for the pounding to stop so he could think clearly.

He lay back on the grass, staring at fluffy clouds floating aimlessly across a blue sky. If he never regained his memory or found his place in the world, of what use was he? What if his memory never returned?

He glanced at Mariah and found her staring at him. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

He studied her lovely face. The pain in his head had subsided, allowing him to see Mariah clearly. She was beautiful, kind and intelligent. Perhaps he should concentrate on what he had here and forget his past. Mildenhall was not a bad place to live, and he truly liked
Mariah’s father. He wondered if he could make a life at Mildenhall.

With Mariah.

“I’m thinking I’d very much like to kiss you. The first time whetted my appetite for more.”

“Your head—”

“The pain has passed. It only comes when I try to remember. Mayhap I should make new memories.” He extended his hand as if in supplication. “Will you help me, Mariah?”

A day hadn’t passed that Mariah didn’t think about that first kiss she had shared with Sir Knight. It had been like naught she had experienced in her twenty-one years. So how could she resist another taste of heaven?

She took his hand and knelt beside him. She knew it was wicked of her to want Sir Knight’s kisses when her husband lay ill in his bed, but she craved more out of life than tending an old man. She wanted to know pleasure, and she wanted a child.

Edwina believed that Sir Knight would regain his memory one day, and that meant he would leave. She could almost bear his leaving if he gave her a babe to love.

Sir Knight reached up, curled a hand around her neck and eased her over him. His body was hard, his face stark with a need she had never seen before on a man’s face. Their lips touched, meshing together as their bodies melded. Icy shivers raced down her spine as his hands grasped her bottom and pulled her up snugly against his loins. Mariah had never felt anything to compare with the hard ridge of his sex pressing against the soft place between her thighs. A small sigh hummed through her
mouth as he prodded it open with his tongue and pressed inside.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensations tumbling one upon another. He brought his hands around to her breasts, tweaking her nipples through the material of her gown. A strange wetness pooled between her thighs as his hands and lips worked their magic on her. Her hips rocked against him of their own accord, as if riding to some unknown melody. At that moment she would have done anything he asked of her.

Sir Knight broke off the kiss. Mariah murmured a protest. “You’re very good at this,” she said breathlessly.

“I am, aren’t I?” His lightheartedness dissolved as he lifted her away from him and sat up.

“Did I do something wrong?” Mariah asked. “Was I too bold?”

“Too bold? Oh, nay, sweeting. This place is too dangerous for what I have in mind.”

He helped her to her feet, brought her against him and kissed her hard. “Come to me tonight,” he whispered against her lips. “Let me finish what we started.”

Wearing naught but a chamber robe over her nakedness, Mariah sat curled up in a chair, staring into the dying embers in the hearth. The hour was late; the castle had settled down for the night, and the servants had long since gone to their beds. While Edmond slept soundly in the adjoining chamber, sleep was far from Mariah’s mind.

Come to me tonight
, Sir Knight had said.

That she even considered going to him surprised Mariah. His kisses had tempted her, made her aware of what she had missed in her marriage. Not that she regretted marrying Edmond. She loved him dearly. By his own admission, however, he didn’t think of her as a wife, and bedding her had made him feel guilty, as if he were committing a sin.

Mariah tried to convince herself that going to Sir Knight’s bed was a sacrifice she was only considering to save Mildenhall. But she was no fool. She wanted Sir Knight, not just for the son she needed but for herself. She wanted his passion. If she was to experience passion only one time in her life, she wanted it to be with Sir Knight.

Mariah heard the chapel bell toll Matins. As if in a daze, she rose and left the solar, irresistibly drawn by Sir Knight’s promise of pleasure. No one saw her; no one heard her footsteps whispering along the corridor. She paused before Sir Knight’s closed door, fearing she was making a mistake but unable to retreat now that she had come this far.

Falcon lit another candle when the first one sputtered out. Would Mariah come to him? he wondered for the hundredth time since he’d left to seek his bed. Besides recovering his memory, making love to Mariah was what he most wanted . . . needed . . . craved. Mariah was an enigma. Her seductive innocence appealed to him. She seemed refreshingly unaware of her own sexuality. It was clear to him that she was a stranger to passion. Even her kisses had been childlike, until he had shown her how one’s tongue came into play in a passionate kiss.

It was late, past Matins. Falcon feared that Mariah would not come to him. He should have finished what he had begun in the woods earlier today instead of worrying about their safety. But he would never put Mariah in danger. Nor would he have pursued her if she had been married instead of a widow. He didn’t know how he knew that about himself, but he did. He was learning that he had lived his life by a code of honor.