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Bean nodded. “Lord William’s horse stumbled during a race across the moors.”
“Who was he racing against?”
“Dr. St. John.” The little maid hugged her knees. “The doctor boasted that his gelding could beat any horse in England and dared his cousin to prove him wrong. Everyone knew Lord William could never refuse a dare, and he was overly proud of Titan, his black stallion.”
“How did Lord William’s new bride react to the news that her husband was going to attempt a dangerous race?”
Bean thought for a moment. “I’d say she was quite eager about it, ma’am. Encouraged him. You see, she often complained that there was no excitement here at Falcon’s Lair.”
Felicity stared into the flames, her mind awhirl with chilling thoughts. “It looks as if she got more excitement than she bargained for.” At length she said, “Please send my regrets to Lady Honora. Tell her I am indisposed and will not be joining the others in the parlor tonight.”
A crescent moon hung suspended in a midnight sky. Starlight filtered through the tall, narrow windows as Felicity made her way along the upper gallery. Candles flickering in sconces along the walls sent the gargoyles’ shadows into an eerie dance.
Bean had told her about this gallery, hung with portraits of every lord of the manor, from the first Lord Falcon to the present. Since all in the castle were sleeping, Felicity thought it the perfect time to investigate.
She lifted her candle high, studying the faces in the portraits. Though the manner of dress changed dramatically through the ages, the faces of the men were strangely similar and hauntingly familiar. The same dark hair and eyes. The same full, sculpted lips, firm and unsmiling. The same eyes. Piercing. Knowing.
She moved slowly past the shadowed faces, pausing now and then to read a name, a date of birth or death. When she reached the far end of the gallery, she stopped in front of a portrait and, with pounding heart, lifted her candle to study the face of the first Lord Falcon.
“What are you doing here? And at such a late hour?”
Felicity spun around and brought a hand to her throat. “Maud—Mrs. Atherton. You…gave me quite a start.”
The housekeeper glowered at her. “Lady Honora said you were indisposed.”
“Just a bit weary, I’m afraid. But now I find I can’t sleep. I thought I’d explore some of the castle.” She knew she was babbling and turned away to avoid the woman’s pointed look. But when the light from her candle illuminated Gareth’s face staring down at her from its ornamental frame, she let out a gasp of surprise.
Following her gaze, the old woman misunderstood her reaction. “A fearsome countenance, is it not?” She paused beside Felicity and stared at the portrait. “But handsome and charming as well. He is Gareth, the first Lord Falcon. A dashing nobleman and close friend to Henry VIII.”
At Felicity’s look of surprise, she continued. “Falcon’s Lair was a gift from the king. It is said he often came here to hunt with his friend and to play tennis. And, of course, to be entertained by the ladies. Falcon’s Lair has a fascinating history. I’ve made it my life’s work to study it.”
“How did the first Lord Falcon…?” Felicity couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“Die?” Before waiting for an assent from the young woman beside her, Maud Atherton went on. “He accepted the offer of a duel with his brother, Adrian.”
“His own brother?”
“Half brother, actually. Adrian was a bastard. He coveted Falcon’s Lair and complained to all who would listen that had he not been born on the wrong side of the blanket, Falcon’s Lair would have been his.”
“He was willing to kill for it?”
“He wanted much more than Falcon’s Lair. It is rumored that Gareth loved Cara, a maiden from the village, and she in turn loved him. To taunt his brother, Adrian boasted that he would kill Gareth and force Cara to marry him instead. Falcon’s Lair would pass to Adrian’s descendants, since Gareth had none of his own.”
“Couldn’t Gareth save his ladylove from Adrian?”
“He desperately wanted to. He was an excellent swordsman and a fierce warrior. But instead of a fight between the two of them, Adrian sent an army to do his fighting for him. Gareth was forced to remain at Falcon’s Lair to protect the lives of his retainers and tenant farmers. That is, after all, the duty of the lord of the manor. It caused Gareth even greater sadness, knowing his honor and duty had to come before love. So he stayed, even though he knew that he would lose forever the woman who owned his heart.”
Felicity held her candle higher, to see the sad, tormented eyes of the man in the portrait.
“It is rumored that Gareth roams these halls still. Though the betrayal occurred centuries ago, he refuses to accept his eternal reward because he is haunted by the thought of his beloved bearing another man’s son.”
“You mean Adrian made good his threat?”
“Aye.” Maud pointed to the next portrait. “Alexander, son of Adrian and Cara. Thus, all who rule Falcon’s Lair are descended from Adrian instead of Gareth.”
For long minutes the two women fell silent, each caught up in the drama that, after all these centuries, still held them in its thrall.
As the housekeeper started to turn away, Felicity touched a hand to her sleeve.