Page 47

EPILOGUE

Felicity made a slow turn around the gardens, stopping often to admire a perfect rose or to inhale the perfumed air.

She would miss this. All of it. The flocks of sheep undulating gently across the rolling hills.

The vast stretches of windswept moors. The brooding castle with its secrets.

And the people. Especially the people. Bean and Simmons and Maud Atherton.

Lord Falcon and his son William, and the lovely Diana, who would soon become William’s wife.

And, of course, Gareth. She would carry him in her heart forever.

As she approached the terrace, she glanced toward the stand of trees, where she and Gareth had hidden away one wonderful night.

As always, just thinking about him brought a lump to her throat that threatened to choke her.

For a short time she had actually believed that this place could be her home.

But now, without Gareth, the dream had died.

Hadn’t he warned her that a sword would pierce her heart? She’d never dreamed it would be so painful. The sword that killed him had destroyed her as well. No one would ever touch her like that again.

“Miss Andrews.” Chandler Falcon opened the French doors and stepped onto the terrace.

Despite the fact that he’d been missing in the Amazon for months, he looked tanned and fit, and every bit the lord of the manor.

He was tall, with broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips.

Dark hair, in need of a trim, seemed always slightly mussed, which only added to his appeal.

He had a proud, almost haughty profile, with firm jaw, full, sensuous lips, and dark, penetrating eyes that struck a chord in her heart, though she knew not why.

“The servants have gathered in the front hall to say a proper good-bye.”

She nodded, but as she started to brush past him, he touched a hand to her shoulder to stop her. She felt a rush of heat and pulled back, resenting his touch.

“In all the excitement of the past few days, I’ve never really had the opportunity to thank you for saving my father and brother. It was a very brave thing you did. As you know, we Falcons admire those who thrive on courage and adventure.”

“It was nothing,” she said softly. “Just a favor between old friends.”

“Nothing? You are far too modest, I’m afraid. Why, even Mrs. Atherton sings your praises.” His eyes crinkled with unexpected humor. “That’s rare praise indeed.”

Felicity couldn’t help smiling. It was true. Maud Atherton had become as friendly as Bean and Simmons and had decided that the American houseguest was no trouble at all.

“I don’t believe you’ve heard the news of Ian and Honora.”

Her head came up. “News?”

“They escaped their jailer and made off in his rig. While fleeing across the moors, something spooked their horse, and the rig tipped over, killing them both.” He cleared his throat. “There are those who say it is poetic justice.”

She realized that she felt nothing. Neither relief nor regret, just a chilling numbness.

When she said nothing, Chandler continued to stand in front of the door, barring her way. “I hope you won’t think me too bold. But I wish you would consider staying on a while at Falcon’s Lair. Not only would it make my father happy, but it would give me a chance to get to know you better.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t stay, Lord Falcon.” She made a move to slip past him.

“It’s Chandler.”

“Chandler.” She paused beside him, irritation deepening her tone. “Thank you for the invitation, but I really…”

“Your first name’s Felicity, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Did you know,” he said, his smile deepening, “that ‘Felicity’ is Latin for happiness?” He caught a strand of her hair and watched as it sifted through his fingers. Then he shifted his dark gaze to her eyes, and she felt the jolt of recognition. “The name suits you. You have a happy face.”

She felt the blood drain, leaving her pale and trembling. She tried to speak, but no words came.

A short time later Lord Falcon, William, and Diana, along with the servants, came in search of their errant houseguest. They found her still standing on the terrace, her hands linked with Chandler’s.

“The carriage is here to take you to London,” Lord Falcon began.

“Miss Andrews won’t be leaving, Father.” Chandler never took his gaze from hers. “I’ve convinced her that one of life’s greatest adventures awaits her here at Falcon’s Lair.”

“I see.” A slow smile spread across the old man’s face. To Felicity he said, “I told you happy endings are the best, my dear.” Signaling to the others, he led the party indoors, where they continued to stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the couple on the terrace.

Chandler and Felicity never moved. Yet a shimmering light seemed to surround them. William explained to Diana that it was probably a trick of the sunlight.

Soaring above Felicity and Chandler was a magnificent falcon. It turned its head one time, as if studying the man and woman, then catching a wind current, opened its great wings and lifted high into the air.

There were many who swore it continued climbing until it reached the sun. The story was repeated until it became just another of the many legends that surrounded Falcon’s Lair.

But it couldn’t top the legend of the family’s boldest adventurer, Chandler, who returned from the Amazon to find Felicity, the woman of his dreams, awaiting him. Together they founded a dynasty destined for greatness.

It is said their love burned brighter than the sun and will continue to burn for all eternity.