Connie Mason (13 page)

“I’ve already apologized for that.”

“On the other hand, I was mindless with worry when I learned you had followed me into danger,” Falcon continued. “You could have been killed, and Robbie along with you.”

Falcon lowered his head and suckled her nipples.

She tried to push him away. “Someone might come in.”

Falcon raised his head, scrambled off the bed and locked the door. He shed his doublet, shirt and boots and slid into bed beside her. His hair was still wet from his bath, Mariah noted, and his skin smelled of soap and his own special scent, one she remembered so well.

“No one will bother us now. Raise your arms so I can remove your shift.”

Mariah began to have second thoughts despite the hot blood surging through her body. “Is this wise, Falcon?”

“Probably not. Are you going to stop me?”

She should, but oh, she was desperate to feel Falcon inside her again. Desperate for his touch; needing his kisses. After Falcon had left her five years ago, she had been bereft. If she had not discovered herself with child, she would have become an empty shell after Edmond died. Though Robbie had given her life new meaning, something was still missing from it. That something was Robbie’s father, the man who must never learn he had given her a son.

She raised her arms. Falcon stripped off her shift. Giving her a wicked grin, he set his lips against the taut skin of her stomach, licking and nipping between kisses. Locking his hands about her hips; he shifted lower, spreading her thighs with his shoulders, wedging himself between them.

Her fingers clenched in his hair. He felt her drag in a breath as he bent his head and set his mouth on her weeping core.

“
Falcon!
”

She uttered his name on a muffled scream. Smiling to
himself, he licked, probed, then settled in the cradle of her thighs to savor her fully, tracing the swollen folds with his tongue. He found her secret nubbin erect and swollen beneath its hood and gently sucked it into his mouth.

He pushed her closer and closer to the edge, until her fingers curled into claws and her hips tilted, mutely offering herself to him. He opened her with his fingers, probed her entrance and penetrated her with his tongue.

He savored her soft cries, gloried in her passion as she fractured and broke apart. The moment she quieted, he rose, stripped off his hose and—

There came a knock on the door. “My lady, Robbie is asking for you.”

“Becca,” Mariah whispered weakly. “I must answer her.”

Falcon looked at his pulsing erection and said, “Tell her to return in one hour.”

“But Robbie—”

“Can wait.”

When Mariah hesitated, Falcon straddled her, positioned his hands on the bed on either side of her, spread his thighs and nudged her entrance with his cock. “Tell her,” he whispered urgently.

“Bring Robbie to me in an hour,” Mariah instructed the nursemaid. “I’m . . . I cannot entertain him right now.”

Falcon’s expression was pained as he teased her entrance with his cock.

Then he drove himself in to the hilt.

Mariah cried out his name and arched wildly beneath him. She had despaired of ever feeling Falcon inside her again. Though she believed anger was fueling his lust, she didn’t care. Naught mattered but finding pleasure with the only man she had ever wanted sexually.

“Aye, call my name,” Falcon moaned, driving deeper. “I’ve never forgotten how my name sounds on your lips when you shatter.”

He closed his eyes to better absorb the sensation of her heated sheath yielding and then clamping around his erection, her feminine flesh pulling him deep inside her and squeezing tight. He wanted to plunder, to let his primitive instincts take over, but he did not. He was not now and had never been a selfish lover.

He stilled, heard her panting breath in his ear, felt the thudding beat of her racing heart. He lifted his head and gazed down at her. Her glittering gaze was fixed on him, her lips swollen, slightly parted. He bowed his head, kissed her, moving his cock in and out in slow, measured
thrusts while his tongue mimicked the rhythm in her mouth.

He broke off the kiss, saw her eyes close as she whispered, “Please.”

“Please what?”

She licked her lips. “Faster, harder, please.”

He would have grinned but couldn’t; his features were taut with restrained passion. He took a deep breath, locked his hips in place and thrust harder, deeper, faster. He groaned against her mouth. The fire was still there, just as he remembered. His mouth covered hers; her tongue tangled with his, taking the kiss deeper, feasting, savoring.

Adrift on a sea of erotic sensation, caught by the invisible links forged by their previous association, Falcon gave his racing passion full rein. When he heard Mariah cry out and felt her arch beneath him, his restraint suffered a swift surrender. With a feral roar, he erupted, plunging deep, his seed exploding from his body into hers. He was grateful for the stone walls that held the sound of his pleasure inside the chamber.

Mariah felt the wet warmth of his seed surge deep in her belly, briefly aware that he could leave her with another babe. If that happened, the child would be as welcome as Robbie had been, even though she knew that Falcon would leave her, just as he had before. He would forsake her for an heiress, one who would bring him the land he yearned for.

His weight left her as he rolled onto his back. “Falcon—”

He made a slashing motion with his hand. “Nay, do not
say anything. I am deeply ashamed. You were ill and exhausted and I took advantage of you. I’ve compromised my honor.” He rose and began to dress.

The question she needed to ask burned on her tongue. “Why did you make love to me just now?”

He yanked on his hose. “I lost my head. Lust does strange things to a man. It can warp his brain, rob him of logic and steal his honor. It can leave him weak and confused.”

He looked away, his voice ripe with self-condemnation. “When I came in here, I merely intended to rebuke you for following me into danger. I had no intention of making love to you.” He spun around to face her. “But lust, laced with memories of the past, can turn the best of intentions.”

“You remembered how well matched we were as lovers,” Mariah guessed.

Falcon’s laugh held little warmth. “Aye, that and more. But when all is said and done, your lies still stand between us.” His gaze swept over her, cool, assessing. “Tell me, Mariah, did Lord Edmond know what we were doing behind his back?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

Mariah clamped her lips tightly together.

“Very well, keep your secrets.”

Falcon strode to the door and flung it open. He collided with Robbie, who fell on his backside and began to whimper. Falcon swept the boy into his arms and attempted to comfort him.

“There, there, lad, you’re not hurt, are you?”

A fat tear rolled down Robbie’s cheek as he stared at Falcon with large golden eyes.

“Did you come to see your mama?”

“Aye, I want to see Mama,” Robbie replied. Clearly he was entranced by the large man holding him, and a little frightened.

“I’ll take you to her, but you have to stop crying.”

As he stared at the lad, a jolt of recognition shot through him. But try though he might, he couldn’t recall who the child resembled. Perhaps he saw Mariah in him, for the boy had his mother’s coloring and blond hair.

Robbie’s tears stopped. Falcon wiped them away with his thumb and carried him to his mother. He placed the child on the bed and stepped back, watching as he leapt into his mother’s arms.

“Does Robbie stand for Robin or Robert?” Falcon asked.

“Robert. ’Twas my father’s name.”

“My father’s name, too,” Falcon said.

Mariah appeared stunned. “Truly?”

“Truly. ’Tis a common enough name.”

“Oh, my lady,” Becca said from the doorway. “Robbie slipped away from me. I hoped I’d find him here.”

“He’s fine, Becca. Sir Falcon found him in the corridor and brought him to me. You may leave him with me for a while.”

Slanting a shy smile at Falcon, Becca took her leave.

“What are you looking at?” Mariah asked when she noted the way Falcon was staring at Robbie.

Falcon shifted his gaze to Mariah. “The lad resembles you in many ways, but I do not see Lord Edmond in him.
Yet there is a familiarity about him that has naught to do with you.”

“Haven’t you something better to do than stand here and ask questions?” Robbie’s paternity was the last thing Mariah wished to discuss.

“I won’t intrude on your privacy,” Falcon replied as he prepared to leave.

Robbie, however, had other ideas. Scrambling over his mother, he gazed up at Falcon and said, “You’re very tall.”

Falcon couldn’t help smiling at the rambunctious lad. “Would you like to ride on my shoulders?”

“Robbie, no,” Mariah chided. “Sir Falcon must be about his duties.”

“I’ve never seen anyone as tall as Falcon, Mama. I’d like very much to ride on his shoulders.”

“Up you go, Robbie,” Falcon said, plucking the boy from the bed and placing him on his shoulders. Robbie squealed in delight.

“I believe Robbie is fascinated by the view from your great height,” Mariah said. “You may put him down now.”

Falcon lowered Robbie onto the bed, ruffled his fair hair and took his leave. He returned to his own chamber, found quill and ink and penned a missive to the king, informing him of Robbie’s well-being and Osgood’s treachery. Then he found Jamie, his squire, and sent him off to London with an escort of two seasoned knights.

Once that was taken care of, Falcon descended the stairs to the great hall, accepted a mug of ale from a servant and dropped onto a bench before the hearth, soaking up the warmth. The day was raw and damp, a harbinger
of fall, and the chill seemed to seep through the stone walls.

Sir John and Sir Dennis joined him. “What was that all about?” John asked. “Why did you send Jamie to London with an escort?”

“Jamie is carrying a missive to the king. The escort is to make sure he reaches Whitehall safely.”

“Are we to remain at Mildenhall?” Dennis asked.

“Aye. I explained the reason in my letter to Henry,” Falcon informed him. “Once we leave Mildenhall, there’s naught to stop Osgood from returning and doing Robbie harm.”

The two knights accepted tankards of ale from a servant. “Are you convinced, then, that Robbie is Lord Edmond’s son?” John asked.

Falcon stared into his ale. “I am convinced of naught but the rightness of choosing Robbie over Osgood and Walter. I cannot in good conscience leave Mildenhall to a man who would harm a child or force a woman. Lord Edmond was a good man, and ’twas common knowledge that he did not want Osgood to inherit.”

They drank in silence for a time, and then John asked, “How long did you stay at Mildenhall while you were incapacitated?”

“Several weeks. Why?”

John and Dennis exchanged knowing looks. “That was five years ago, wasn’t it?”

“Aye, more or less.”

John cleared his throat. “How close were you and Lady Mariah during your stay? You seem well acquainted. Perhaps—”

“Robbie is but three years old,” Falcon said sharply, “conceived well after I left.”

“So you do admit to bedding the lady,” Dennis said.

“Enough!” Falcon growled. “I admit naught.” He drained his mug. “The men are growing soft. Exercises will commence in the training field at dawn tomorrow.”

Falcon strode off, intending to saddle his horse and take an invigorating ride before dark. He had a great deal to think about. A quarter hour later, he ordered the portcullis raised and rode away from the castle toward the ridge of low hills rising behind Mildenhall.

Falcon had no idea what had possessed him to make love to Mariah today. Or why he had been so worried about her after he learned she had taken to her bed following her ordeal.

Though they had been brief lovers five years ago, there was naught between them now. They had both known he would leave once his memory returned. He was dismayed by his overwhelming need to make love to Mariah today. She had lied to him and used him, and still he wanted her. It was as if a bond had been forged between them five years ago, a bond he was not certain he welcomed.

Falcon rode to the top of the ridge, then wheeled his horse to stare down at Mildenhall. Its towers rose against a damp sky like sentinels of ancient gods. Lord Edmond had taken good care of his lands; even the village had prospered under his guidance. Despite the surrounding forest and remoteness of the demesne, there was plenty of rich land available to raise crops and graze animals. With Mariah to guide Robbie during his formative years, the land should prosper under the young earl.

Despite that knowledge, Falcon couldn’t help wondering
about Robbie’s father. He understood why Mariah wouldn’t trust him with the man’s name. Falcon was, after all, the king’s emissary, sent to investigate Robbie’s legitimacy.

Truth to tell, Falcon was inclined to agree with Osgood about Robbie’s illegitimacy. Lord Edmond had been too ill to sire a child.

Until Osgood and Walter had shown their true colors, Falcon had been undecided in regard to the earldom. He no longer harbored doubts. Osgood was undeserving, and Robbie, whether or not he was legitimate, was an innocent in all this. Mariah was the guilty one, if guilt were to be placed. It was clear to Falcon that Mariah had slept with a man other than her husband to get an heir for Mildenhall.

Even more disturbing were his confused feelings for Mariah. Apparently, five years hadn’t been long enough for him to forget her. His lust for her was as strong as ever. When he’d learned that Mariah was Edmond’s wife during the time of their brief affair, his anger had been stunning, while at the same time her reason for bedding him had fed his male pride. She had wanted him because he was young and virile. But was that the only reason?

What else had she lied to him about?

Robbie . . .

Falcon’s own knights had voiced suspicion about his relationship with Mariah during his stay at Mildenhall. Wouldn’t Mariah tell him if Robbie was his son? He laughed aloud at that thought. Mariah delivered naught but lies.