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“How long can you stay in England, my dear?”
She gave a negligent shrug of her shoulders. “I haven’t really set a time. But I thought a few weeks.”
“Nonsense. That’s not nearly long enough. You’ll need at least a few months to get to know this lovely land and its people.”
“Lord Falcon, I couldn’t possibly stay a few months.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Because…” She set the cup down and busied herself sprinkling sugar and cinnamon on a warm biscuit. “Because I do not wish to be a burden. I will accept your kind hospitality, but only for a short while.”
As she lifted the biscuit to her lips, she gave a little sigh. “Oh, this is the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Lord Falcon’s breakfast lay forgotten. His voice warmed. “Rob always said that about Cook’s biscuits.”
“Did he?”
Lord Falcon nodded. “He was more like a brother than a friend. When I look at you, my dear, I see him. Even the inflection in your voice is the same.”
It gave Felicity a strange, comforting feeling to know that she shared something with the father who was now gone.
“Simmons,” the old man suddenly called, “tell Maud Atherton that I desire a special feast for tonight, in honor of our guest.”
“Yes, my lord.” The butler freshened their tea. “I believe Cook has already begun. She ordered a pig slaughtered.”
“Fine. And tell her to bake her special tarts. The ones Rob always liked.”
“Now, my lord?”
“Now. And Simmons—“
The butler paused with his hand on the door.
“Tell her I will be eating in the dining room tonight.”
The elderly servant showed no emotion, but Felicity thought she’d seen a flicker of something in his eyes. “Yes, my lord.” He walked stiffly away.
When the door closed behind him, Lord Falcon leaned closer. “I must tell you that I had a reason for asking Rob to make the arduous journey. But now that he is gone and you are “He shook his head. “I can only hope that you will prove to be your father’s daughter.”
“I’ll certainly try.” She gave him a wide smile and patted his hand. “I’m so pleased that you aren’t angry at my unexpected arrival.”
“Angry?” He grasped her hand, suddenly as eager as a child. “You will stay? You…won’t leave, will you? No matter what?”
“Now why would you ask such a thing?”
“There are few who would have the courage to remain at Falcon’s Lair. For there are things “
When he didn’t elaborate, she prodded, “Things?”
He looked up. “I will not hide the truth from you. I sent for Rob because I needed a friend. One I could trust completely.”
“I don’t under—“
He held a finger to his lips. “I no longer know who is friend and who is foe. Nor will you. You must learn to trust your instincts. But know this. You are never alone. There are many here at Falcon’s Lair who sense…someone or something. A blast of cold air when no window or door has been opened. A chill that raises gooseflesh or causes the hair at the back of one’s neck to rise. Sometimes a sound, like a sob or a moan.” He glanced up sheepishly. “Forgive me, my dear. You must think me an addled old fool for believing that Falcon’s Lair is haunted.”
“Not at all.” She patted his hand. “As a matter of fact, I almost had myself believing that I’d encountered a spirit.”
Blackbird eyes met hers. One bushy white brow lifted slightly.