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Authors: A Knight's Honor

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BOOK: Connie Mason
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Mariah couldn’t move, couldn’t think; her body trembled with pleasure. His mouth continued to torture her as his fingers thrust and withdrew, driving her mercilessly toward oblivion. She cried out sharply, her body convulsing in ecstasy as his fingers thrust and withdrew.

As she lay gasping on the bed, Falcon came over her, nudging her legs apart with his knees. The fiery hold of his gaze trapped her as powerful arms engulfed her slender
form. Mariah’s breath caught as he lowered himself, his naked body pressing all along hers. With a strangled cry of surrender, her arms locked around his neck. How she had missed him—the feel of his naked body pressed against hers, the hair-roughened limbs, the stunning weight of his chest, his rippling muscles.

“Take me inside you,” he whispered raggedly.

It was a raw plea. She could not deny him, no matter how wrong it might be. Her fingers curled around his rigid length and guided the engorged head of his sex through the damp curls to her entrance. She stared into his eyes as he flexed his hips and thrust deep. She felt the shudder that wracked him as he buried himself to the hilt with a single stroke.

She moaned as he plunged deep inside her, again and again, the forceful tempo driving her higher and higher, until she feared he would pierce her very soul. She arched against him, her inner muscles clenching his hard flesh as he drove her mercilessly, upward and onward, toward excruciating bliss.

Suddenly her body clenched in a massive shudder as contractions ripped through her. Yielding, straining in mindless abandon, she dug her nails into the muscles of his back and exploded. Fire rushed through her veins. She screamed; his mouth covered hers to absorb the sound. Then he lost control, pumping wildly, crying her name into her mouth as he released his seed.

Finally he collapsed against her, spent, trembling, his breathing harsh and grating. Dazed and exhausted, Mariah lay beneath him, contemplating the sin they had both committed against Rosamond, but refusing to regret it.

Falcon rolled off Mariah and dropped down beside her.
“I’m sorry—was I too rough? It seems I can’t control myself with you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” Mariah assured him.

“Good,” Falcon muttered, his eyes already closing.

Confusing thoughts whirled around in Mariah’s head. Had Falcon truly been concerned about her and Robbie? If he did not care for his wife, why had he married her? Naught made sense where Falcon and Rosamond were concerned.

“Falcon, if you still care so much what happens to me and Robbie, why did you marry Rosamond?”

Silence.

She rose up on her elbow and peered down at him. He was sleeping, his mouth slightly open. She smiled. Falcon was as dear to her as Robbie.

But he wasn’t hers
.

He belonged to Rosamond.

Mariah had no right to force her troubles on him. Rosamond had warned her away from Falcon. The least she could do after what had happened between her and Falcon today was leave him to his wife.

She had just made love to another woman’s husband, and though she didn’t regret it, she would never forget it.

Mariah eased out of bed and quickly dressed. She knew what she must do. She had to return to Mildenhall. Somehow she’d find a way to thwart Osgood and gain a measure of peace for herself and Robbie.

Chapter Thirteen

“Don’t leave, Mama,” Robbie sobbed when Mariah announced she must return to Mildenhall the following morning.

“I have to go, darling,” Mariah soothed, hugging him tightly. “Becca will take good care of you while I’m gone.”

“Why do you have to leave? Why can’t I go with you?”

“Sir Osgood is in control of Mildenhall, ’tis too dangerous for you to return. You’ll be fine here with Becca.”

Becca sent Mariah a shaky smile. “I won’t let anything happen to Robbie, my lady, even though London frightens me. I do not like big cities.”

“I know, Becca, and I pray it won’t be for long. I’ll send for you as soon as I’m able. Meanwhile, I’m placing my precious son in your care.”

“Won’t Falcon help us, Mama?”

Mariah sought to make her answer to Robbie’s question sound reasonable, even though her heart was breaking. “Falcon can’t help us, darling. Falcon and Rosamond are married now. It really wouldn’t be a good idea to burden
him with our problems. We can solve this on our own.” Though she had no idea how.

“Did you speak to Sir Falcon, my lady?” Becca asked. “Did you ask for his help?”

“I spoke with him yesterday, Becca, in his rooms at the Fox and Hound. I know his wife would never approve of his getting involved in problems.

“I’m leaving you most of the money we brought with us,” Mariah continued. “There’s a secondhand clothing store off Bond Street. Buy warm clothing for yourself and Robbie. The days are growing colder. I’m leaving a horse for your use.”

Fighting her tears, Becca nodded. “Be very careful, my lady. Sir Osgood can’t be trusted.”

“I will, Becca. Be good, Robbie. Just remember, Mama loves you and wants you safe. Kiss me good-bye now, for I intend to leave before you wake up tomorrow.”

Falcon awoke in the wee hours of morning, surprised that he had slept through the afternoon and far into the night. He reached across the bed to pull Mariah against him and encountered naught but rumpled bedding. The room was dark; an errant beam of moonlight filtering through the window fell across the empty bed. Falcon peered into the darkest corners of the room, softly calling Mariah’s name, though his senses told him he was alone—utterly and devastatingly alone.

Mariah had left him. Why? What had he done or said to make her leave before telling him where he could find her? He wanted to help her reclaim Mildenhall. He’d told her they would discuss her predicament later; he had been too eager to have her beneath him again, to be inside her,
to show her how desperately he had missed her, to wait. He felt a deep, abiding connection to Mariah, an emotion he had experienced with no other woman.

Falcon had to find her, wouldn’t rest until he did. Together they would make plans to reclaim Mildenhall for Robbie. Though Falcon wracked his brain, he could not recall Mariah telling him where she was staying. He chafed at the delay, but realized he would have to wait until morning to hunt for the woman who had insinuated herself into his life and became an integral part of it.

Mariah spent a sleepless night, anxious for daylight so she could begin her journey. At first light, she dressed, kissed a sleeping Robbie and left the inn, taking only bread and cheese from the kitchen to break her fast. To her relief, the first leg of her trip proved uneventful. After spending the night at the Traveler’s Haven in Cambridge, she continued on the following morning to Mildenhall village.

Mariah reached the village that evening without incident. The journey, completed so swiftly, had left her exhausted, so she decided to spend a few nights at the small village inn while formulating her plans and learning how things stood at the keep.

Mr. Maypole, the proprietor, gaped at her when she entered the dim taproom. “My lady, why have you returned? ’Tis dangerous for you to be here.”

“I’ve thought this through, Master Maypole, and decided the only way to free Mildenhall is to face the problem. Are my guardsmen still being held prisoner inside the keep?”

“Aye. We all pray for their safety.”

“What about Edwina and Father Francis?”

“No one has seen them since you left the keep.”

Mariah’s heart plummeted. Things at Mildenhall were even worse than when she’d left. She had hoped Edwina and the priest had found a safe haven away from the keep.

“I’ll need a room for a few days to rest and make my plans. But I have no funds to pay for my stay.”

“Worry not, my lady,” Maypole said, “your lack of funds means naught to me. You and Lord Edmond have been good to everyone in our small village. You may stay in our best room and eat our food as long as you like. No payment is required.”

“Would a bath be too much trouble?” Mariah asked.

“No trouble at all. My good wife will see to it and prepare you a decent meal.”

“Please tell no one that I’ve returned, Mr. Maypole, for I wish to confront Sir Osgood on my own terms. I left my horse in the courtyard. Would you please see to it?”

“Of course, my lady, whatever you say, but surely you must know that no one in the village would betray you.”

“I know, and I am grateful.”

“Is your lad with you, my lady?”

“Nay, I left him and Becca in a safe place,” Mariah replied. “After a bath, food and a good night’s rest, I will decide what I need to do to save Mildenhall.”

Mariah didn’t venture from the inn while formulating her plan to free the guardsmen. As for keeping her presence in the village a secret, she might as well have stood in the square and announced her return. So many people visited her at the inn, offering help and wishing her well, that she was surprised Osgood himself hadn’t heard about her return and sent his mercenaries to fetch her.

Several days passed before a viable plan began to take form in Mariah’s mind. It included telling some falsehoods, but she had no compunction about lying to Osgood. As long as Robbie was safe in London, she feared neither Osgood nor Walter.

Aware that delaying a confrontation would solve naught, Mariah walked the short distance to the castle late in the afternoon on the fourth day of her stay at the inn. The portcullis was firmly in place when she arrived, but her presence did not go unobserved. One of Osgood’s mercenaries peered down at her from the wall walk.

“Who goes there?” he asked in a booming voice.

“Mariah of Mildenhall. Raise the portcullis.”

The guard’s head disappeared behind the wall. A long time passed before Mariah saw Osgood and Walter striding across the courtyard toward the gate. She waited patiently for them to arrive, rehearsing in her mind what to say.

“What do you want?” Osgood growled. “Mildenhall belongs to me now. You have no business here.”

“Let me in,” she answered. “Mildenhall is my home, and I wish to return.”

Osgood stepped closer to the portcullis, peering through the bars at Mariah. “Where’s the boy?”

“Robbie is safe. Isn’t it enough that I am here?”

“What good are you without the boy?” Walter barked.

“I thought you wished to marry me,” Mariah ventured.

“Aye,” Walter replied, “but not until the boy is delivered to us. He needs to be where we can keep watch over him. Where is he, Mariah? I will fetch him myself and bring him home.”

“I see no reason to bring Robbie into a hostile environment.”

“Robbie belongs at Mildenhall,” Osgood argued. “Fetch the boy, and the portcullis will be opened to both of you.”

“I cannot do that,” Mariah countered. “How do I know your intentions toward Robbie are honorable?”

“Because I have given my word.”

Mariah snorted. “How can I trust the word of a liar and bully? Nay, Osgood, Robbie will stay where he is, unless you prove you can be trusted. The only proof I will accept is an act of good faith.”

“I owe you naught,” Osgood bellowed. “Mildenhall is mine whether or not you wed Walter. Possession is ninetenths of the law.”

“If I appeal to the king, he will send troops to reclaim my home. His decision has already been made concerning Mildenhall’s heir. The earldom belongs to my son. ’Tis his legacy.”

Osgood gave a bark of laughter. “I doubt Henry will make the effort.”

Mariah detected a note of uncertainty in Osgood’s voice. She searched for a way to use his weakness to her advantage. “You are deliberately flouting the king’s decision. Is that wise?”

“Bah! The king could be chasing Welshmen, or Scotsmen, or even in France, seizing territory to add to his kingdom. He has no time to waste on a widow with little standing. And Falcon is out of your reach; you no longer have a champion.”

How true, Mariah thought, but that wouldn’t stop her
from exploiting Osgood’s tenuous position. “You could be wrong. Falcon could be on his way to Mildenhall even as we speak.”

Osgood paled. “Is he?”

Though her insides were roiling, she said calmly, “He could be. You won’t know until he arrives. But if I am inside the keep, he will be reluctant to attack.”

While Osgood mulled this over, Walter expressed his disbelief. “Falcon won’t come, Mariah. He is wed to Rosamond and unlikely to leave her for the likes of you and your son. You can enter Mildenhall, but only with Robbie.”

“And I repeat,” Mariah replied, holding firm against the evil pair, “I cannot and will not entrust my son to someone who wishes him harm. You must prove yourselves worthy of my trust before I will consider your request.”

“I would never hurt the lad,” Walter lied, pasting a false smile on his face. “I will raise him as my own, alongside the children we will have together.”

Mariah suppressed a shudder but gamely continued. She had a purpose in mind and prayed that it would come to fruition. “Prove it,” she said.

“Stop this foolishness!” Osgood demanded. “Tell us what you want.”

“Allow Edwina, Father Francis and my guardsmen to leave Mildenhall.”

“Are you mad?”

“I’m being reasonable. Let my people go or prepare to face the king’s wrath.”

“If I let them leave,” Osgood said, “will you fetch Robbie and bring him to us?”

Mariah crossed her fingers behind her back and asked God to forgive her lie. “Aye, you have my word.”

“I will go with you to fetch him,” Walter offered.

Mariah groaned. How was she going to get out of this? She was digging herself deeper into a hole. “Very well, I agree to your terms, but not until you send out my people.”

“I need the servants and your steward; they will remain with us,” Osgood argued.

Mariah decided she had pushed her luck as far as she could. Besides, Osgood needed the servants and Sir Martin; she doubted he would harm them. “As you wish,” she agreed.

“Stay here and keep an eye on Mariah while I arrange for the release of her people,” Osgood ordered his son.

While Mariah had been making plans in her room in Mildenhall village, Falcon had been searching London for her. Both Jamie and Sir Dennis offered their help, which Falcon gratefully accepted. Since inns abounded in London, Falcon feared he would never find Mariah. But he wasn’t about to give up. He purchased a map of London, assigning different streets to Jamie and Dennis so they wouldn’t overlap one another.

BOOK: Connie Mason
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