Page 42

Felicity slipped quietly into Lord Falcon’s suite and took a seat beside his bed. So many questions danced in her mind. She felt a sense of urgency. She needed to speak with him as soon as he awoke. Before Dr. St. John paid his daily visit.

“Ah. My dear.” The old man’s lids fluttered open, and he greeted her with a smile. “I just had the loveliest dream. Rob and I were off on another adventure. He, of course, was seeking knowledge. And I, as always, sought a different sort of treasure.”

“Did you find it?” she asked gently.

He gave her a sly smile. “I told you it was a lovely dream. That means it had a happy ending. That’s the best kind.” He struggled to sit up, and she helped him, heaping pillows behind him until he settled back comfortably. “Tell me what brings my delightful houseguest to an old man’s room at dawn?”

“I find myself wondering why you are so lucid each morning and so…confused by midafternoon.”

“Am I? Confused?”

She nodded.

He gave a sigh. “It’s as I feared, then.”

“That’s why you sent for my father, isn’t it?”

It was Oliver’s turn to nod. He kept his voice to a whisper.

“Whatever I am being given, it could not come from the apothecary in our small village. There would be too many questions.” He caught her hand.

“I have placed a terrible burden upon you, my dear. You must realize by now that your life is in grave peril.”

“No more than yours, Lord Falcon. But the question is why? Why would Ian St. John, your own nephew, want to bring you harm?”

“Perhaps he learned of my youthful transgressions and is seeking revenge. I did, after all, nearly come between his father and mother. But I assure you I repented my sins. And it happened so many years ago. Or perhaps it is simply jealousy because I, as the elder brother, inherited Falcon’s Lair and the title, while his father was given a smaller estate nearby. ”

Felicity pressed his cold hands between both of hers. “I looked in on William last night.”

“How is my son? I have not seen him in such a long time. Oh, my dear.” He clutched her hands tightly in his, and she could feel his fevered pulse beating through the fragile flesh. “I fear for William more than I fear for myself.”

“I intend to pay him a visit this morning as well,” she whispered, “and if my hunch is correct, I will find him as I found you. Now I must go, before Honora awakens and has me barred from your room.”

“She would do such a thing?”

“She…is very protective of you and William.” Felicity was reluctant to accuse until she had more proof. At the door she turned. “One question, Lord Falcon. Can you refuse your medicine?”

“Dr. St. John remains with me until it is swallowed.”

The jealous nephew was taking no chances, she thought. Her look was grim as she walked away.

The fire in William’s sitting room had long ago burned to embers. In his bedchamber, the candle had sputtered out. The room was cold and damp. But the face of the man asleep in the bed was bathed in perspiration. Even in a drug-induced sleep, it seemed, he waged a fierce battle with his enemies.

Felicity pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. As she smoothed her skirts she was surprised to find his eyes, wide and unblinking, fixed on her.

“You’re a new one. Haven’t seen you before. Have you come with another foul-tasting potion?”

She shook her head. “I came at your father’s request. From America. My name is Felicity Andrews. Daughter of your father’s old friend Rob.”

He visibly relaxed. “How is Father? Honora told me he’s at death’s door.”

“Not quite. Nor are you,” she added.

“I might as well be. Condemned to this bed for the rest of my life. To a Falcon, being a cripple is worse than death.”

She glanced at the covers that hid his legs. “Have you tried to walk?”

“Right after the accident. I went down like a stone.”

“And since?” she prodded.

He shrugged. “I seem to recall walking. But then I wake up in bed and realize it’s all just a foolish dream.”

“What else do you dream?”

“More foolishness.” He looked away, ashamed to meet her eyes.

“I dream of an old love, looking as young and beautiful as when we were children, whispering…” He stopped, embarrassed at having revealed so much.

“The dreams are cruel. But not as cruel as reality. Reality, Miss Andrews, is the knowledge that I shall never again leave this bed.”

“What if I told you that was untrue? That your dreams weren’t dreams at all?”

He held up a hand to stop her. “If you’ve come to add to my misery…”

“Take my hand, William.” She held it out to him. “See if I speak the truth.”

For long moments he stared at her outstretched hand, and she could see the warring of emotions. Doubt. Fear. A slowly darkening anger at the cruelty of her suggestion. But in the end, determined to settle the issue once and for all, he reached for her hand. A true Falcon, and adventurer to the end.

He flung back the covers and swung his legs to the floor. For several seconds he sat still as his head swam. Then, taking a deep breath, he gripped her hand firmly and prepared to stand.

Just then they heard the opening of the sitting room door. Felicity let out a groan of disgust. “You must lie down, William. And whatever you do, don’t mention my visit. They musn’t know I was here.”

She pressed him into the pillows and pulled the blanket over him, then replaced the chair at its original position before slipping into the wardrobe.

Through a crack in the door she watched as Dr. St. John sailed into the room, followed by Honora.

“I’ve brought your medicine, William,” the doctor said, holding a vial of dark fluid aloft.

“No. No more,” came the muffled voice.

“In a bit of a temper this morning, are we?” It was Honora, her tone shrill and sarcastic.

While Felicity watched helplessly, Honora lifted William’s head off the pillow. Ian St. John brought the vial to his lips and forced the liquid down his throat. William made a choking, gasping sound, then fell silent.

A short time later, after they’d gone, Felicity stepped from her place of concealment. The man in the bed lay in a stupor, his eyes blank, his body limp.

Outside William’s room she felt the shimmer of heat that always accompanied Gareth. She paused, waiting for him to reveal himself.

“You play with fire. If you’re not careful, you’ll get burned. They nearly caught you in William’s room.”

“I had to see if my hunch was correct. But now that I know that Ian and Honora are drugging William and his father, I need to know why they wish them dead.”

Gareth shook his head. “You are more innocent than I thought, little happy face. Can you not see? Ian covets not only Falcon’s Lair but William’s wife as well.”

“Does Honora feel the same way about Ian?”

“Aye. She only married William for his money and title. With him out of the way, Ian, as the only other living heir, will inherit. That has always been the true curse of the Falcons. It is not our love of adventure or the fact that most have died young. The curse is that those who least deserve to inherit desire it most—and will do whatever is necessary to achieve their evil goals.” He motioned for her to follow. “Come. You must see for yourself.”

She followed him along the hall until he paused outside Honora’s lavish suite. The door to the sitting room was ajar. Inside, they could see the silhouettes of a man and woman locked in an embrace.

“Soon,” the man said as his lips claimed the woman’s, “Falcon’s Lair and all its treasure will be ours.”

“Ours,” the woman echoed as she pulled him down to the bed.

With her hand to her mouth to stifle her outrage, Felicity turned away. And found herself once again alone.

“What is all the excitement, Bean?” Felicity looked up from her father’s journal. All morning she’d remained locked away in her room reading, until her eyes ached from the exertion. But she’d found nothing in her father’s notes that sounded even remotely like the medicine Dr. St. John had used.

She’d heard the servants bustling about and the furious commands from Maud Atherton to have Falcon’s Lair sparkling. But until now, when she’d set aside her reading, she hadn’t really paid any attention.

“Tonight’s the charity ball,” the little maid explained. “All the gentry will be here. Lady Honora has even invited friends from as far away as London.” Bean lowered her voice. “She’s in quite a snit, she is. Says if she finds so much as a smudge on the crystal, we’ll all pay tomorrow.”

Felicity felt her temper rising. “A charity ball, when her husband and father-in-law lie abed?”

“Lady Honora says life must go on, and she intends to put a brave face on her unhappiness.”

“A brave face.”

At Felicity’s outraged tone, Bean turned to look at her. “Do you think it is wrong of Lord and Lady Summerville and their daughter to betray old friendships by coming tonight?”

“Oh, no, Bean,” Felicity assured her. “In fact, I believe they may be the only true friends Lord Falcon and William have.” She felt a sudden sense of foreboding. “If anything should happen here, I want you to go to them. Do you understand?”

For long moments the girl stared at her. Then she meekly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She crossed the room and opened a wardrobe before laying out an assortment of undergarments.

“What are you doing, Bean?”

“Why, preparing for your toilette, ma’am.”

“I’ll not be attending Honora’s ball.”

“Oh, but you must, ma’am.”

“And why must I?”

“Because…” The little waif thought long and hard. “Because Lady Honora would take out her temper on all of us if you don’t.”

Felicity relented. The maid had just said the one thing that could change her mind. Felicity was far too tenderhearted. She simply couldn’t be the cause of someone else’s misery.

“I believe this is my dance, Miss Andrews.” Lord Summerville bowed grandly and swept Felicity into the maze of circling couples.