A Knight's Honor Page 7

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  on her. They were filled with shadows. "You told me you couldn't conceive. You lied to me about being a widow. What else did you lie about? Was Lord Edmond aware of your deception? Did he condone it?"

  Mariah glanced behind her, saw Sir Martin approach­ing and said, "We cannot talk here." She edged away as Sir Martin reached them.

  "Mariah, wait!" Falcon called.

  She strode off without looking back.

  Mariah's heart was beating so loudly she feared Falcon would hear it. Why did he have to show up now? Once he'd learned she was Edmond's wife and not his daughter, he had treated her with contempt. And who could blame him? She had used him, but there was more to it than that. Her feelings for Falcon had run deep. His hasty departure without a proper good-bye had devastated her.

  She had no idea what had gone wrong between Falcon and Rosamond, but obviously he blamed her for his loss. Now here he was again, at a time she'd least expected him. He had been sent to Mildenhall to act as adjudicator. In whose favor would he decide? How could she keep Robbie away from him? Once Falcon learned the truth, he would hand the earldom and demesne to Osgood. Oh, what a tangled web she and Edmond had woven. Her sins were coming back to haunt her.

  Falcon hated her. Would he hate her son as well?

  Mariah saw Edwina in the hall and hurried over to her. "What is it, lass?" Edwina asked. "What has Osgood done to you?"

  "'Tis not Osgood this time, 'tis the king," Mariah gasped. "He sent Sir Falcon to investigate Osgood's claim that Robbie is illegitimate." She shook her head. "I am

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  lost, Edwina. Robbie and I will be deprived of our home. What am I to do? My widow's portion cannot support us forever, and I refuse to wed again."

  Edwina led Mariah to a chair. "Sit down, child. Sir Fal­con strikes me as a sensible man."

  "He hates me, Edwina. He knows I lied to him and sinned against Edmond."

  "With Edmond's approval," Edwina reminded her.

  Mariah shook her head. "It matters not. I should start making plans to leave. I shudder to think how the people of Mildenhall will fare under Osgood's heavy hand."

  "Do not give up yet, Mariah. Falcon cared for you once, I saw it plainly."

  "Five years ago Falcon was a different man. He had no past, he remembered naught. I took advantage of his situ­ation; I seduced him for the son I wanted from him. It was wrong of me, and now I must pay the penalty."

  "Pah! Stop this talk. The Mariah I know and love would not give up without a fight. You must seduce Fal­con all over again. Make him see how wrong it would be to turn you and your child out of your home."

  "If I tell him the truth about Robbie, he will accuse me of stealing a part of him. All these years I believed Falcon was wed to Rosamond. I mourned his loss and missed him dreadfully. But I had his child, and that gave me hope for the future. My son is my life, Edwina. Think you Fal­con will take him away from me?"

  "Not even a battle-hardened warrior would be that cruel. I will think on this," Edwina promised. "Mean­while, make Sir Falcon welcome."

  Edwina left, and Mariah slipped off to the nursery. Robbie looked up from his play and grinned at her when

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  she entered the chamber. Thank God the lad looked more like her than Falcon, Mariah thought. But for his golden eyes, his features were all hers. And the soft hair covering his head was blond, not black like his father's. Let Falcon think what he liked; she'd never admit that Robbie was not Edmond's child.

  "How old is the lad?"

  Mariah glanced toward the open door, where Falcon leaned against the jamb, watching Robbie at play. Al­though Robbie had just turned four, she lied, shaving a year off his age. "He just turned three."

  "Though I know naught of children, I would guess he is big for his age."

  "Edmond was a large man before his illness."

  Falcon glanced at Robbie, who was eyeing him curi­ously, and asked Mariah to join him in the corridor, where the lad couldn't hear. Mariah obeyed him with marked reluctance. Falcon closed the door behind them.

  "Do you still claim Lord Edmond is the lad's father?"

  "I do. 'Tis the truth."

  "So you say, but I've been lied to before. What did you hope to gain by claiming that Lord Edmond was your father?"

  "A virile lover," Mariah whispered, and realized it was not a lie. "A man whose skin did not sag, a young, vigor­ous man who made me feel like a woman for the first time. You did that, Falcon. Your loving brought something to my life that I lacked."

  Falcon snorted. "Whom did you turn to after I left? Os­good told the king that Edmond was incapable of per­forming in bed."

  Mariah stared him in the eye and said, "Osgood wasn't

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  in bed with me and Edmond when Robbie was conceived. Robbie is Edmond's son."

  Falcon winced. The thought of Mariah in bed with Ed­mond made his stomach churn. 'That is somethmg I have yet to prove." Turning on his heel, he stalked off.

  Chapter 5

  When Falcon slid into a chair at the head table that night to partake of the evening meal, he noticed that Osgood is­sued orders to the servants as if he were already the Earl of Mildenhall.

  Falcon rose when Mariah entered the hall. Osgood also rose and seated her in the vacant chair between himself and Walter. Falcon saw how distasteful the seating arrangement was to her and decided to do something about it.

  "Lady Mariah," he said, leaning across Osgood. "Change places with Sir Osgood so that we may speak privately during the meal."

  "Now see here, Falcon," Osgood growled. "Who gave you the right to countermand my orders?"

  "The king," Falcon drawled. "Until I deem otherwise, Lady Mariah is still the mistress of Mildenhall. Her wishes should be respected, and I can tell from her ex­pression that she does not wish to sit between you and Walter."

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  Mariah stood, her expression grateful as Osgood, his ill humor apparent, exchanged places with her.

  "Mariah is my betrothed," Walter protested. "You have no right to separate us."

  "I am not your betrothed," Mariah protested as she slid into the newly vacated chair beside Falcon. She leaned to­ward Falcon and whispered, "Thank you."

  Nodding, Falcon turned his attention to his meal. Mariah ate sparingly, he noted, and realized she must be feeling uncomfortable after the lies she had told him.

  "Does your conscience bother you?" he asked in a voice only she could hear.

  Mariah glanced up at him. "Why should it?"

  "You lied to me. Which one of Mildenhall's knights did you sleep with after I left? I am not stupid, Mariah. Lord Edmond was not capable of bedding you."

  "Sir Falcon, if you intend to turn me out of my home, tell me now so that I may prepare for my departure."

  "I haven't been here long enough to investigate Os­good's charges or reach a decision." He took a bite of venison, chewed slowly and swallowed. "Tell me, do you truly intend to refuse Walter's proposal?"

  "Aye. I can tolerate neither Walter nor his father. If you hand Osgood the title, it will destroy Mildenhall. Osgood will run the estate into the ground. He thinks he can force me to wed his son, but he cannot. Father Francis will not perform the ceremony if I am unwilling."

  "Perhaps you should rethink your position. At least you would not have to leave your home if I decide in Sir Os­good's favor."

  Mariah looked up at him then. Her pain was easily discernible from her expression. Falcon experienced a

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  jolt of guilt but refused to let it hinder or influence his investigation.

  "You must do what you have to do, Falcon," Mariah said quietly. "I know how you feel about me, so why tor­ment me?"

  Falcon's dark brows shot up. 'Torment you? Nay, Mariah, I merely seek the truth. God knows there has been little enough of that at Mildenhall."

  Mariah scraped back her chair. "Excuse me, I must see to my son."

  Falcon watched her walk away, remember
ing their nights of unbridled passion. He had promised her naught and left without a backward glance, but he had not forgot­ten her. He had to forcibly prevent himself from follow­ing her to her chamber, tossing her on the bed and thrusting himself inside her.

  "She's a tempting piece," Osgood said. "Walter is ea­ger for the match."

  While Falcon had been woolgathering, Osgood had moved into the chair Mariah had vacated. "I hadn't no­ticed," Falcon lied.

  Osgood laughed. "Tell that to someone who will be­lieve you. I saw the way you looked at her. Something happened between you while you were at Mildenhall. Did you bed the bitch?"

  "You have a nasty mind, Osgood," Falcon drawled.

  Osgood leaned closer. "Would you like Mariah in your bed for the length of your stay?"

  Falcon nearly leapt at Osgood's throat but contained himself. He wanted to see where this conversation was going. "How do you propose to manage that, and what must I give you in return?"

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  "You know what I want. Give me the earldom."

  "What makes you think Mariah will have me? And what will Walter say about sharing the woman he hopes to wed?"

  "Walter doesn't have to know. This is between you and me—a gentlemen's agreement, so to speak."

  "What if Mariah refuses?"

  Osgood grinned. "She will agree. All I have to do is threaten her son. She dotes on the little bastard."

  Falcon's anger rose swiftly. A man who threatened a child was without honor. "I have no proof that the lad is illegitimate."

  "Bah! You are a fool if you think my brother sired the brat. And Edmond was a bigger fool to accept the boy as his heir."

  "Ah," Falcon mused. "So Lord Edmond acknowledged the child, did he? I was wondering about that. In fact, that was to be my first line of investigation. Thank you for clearing up the matter."

  Osgood jumped up so fast his chair crashed backward to the floor. "This conversation is beginning to bore me. Go ahead, conduct your investigation, but know this. I will have Mildenhall and Walter will have Mariah. Your opinion means naught to us."

  "I represent the king. Think again if you believe my opinion carries no weight."

  "Walter, 'tis time to retire," Osgood ordered as he charged off. Like a puppy, Walter shoved past Falcon and followed Osgood from the hall.

  Falcon wondered if Walter would still idolize his father if he knew Osgood had just offered him the woman he in­tended to wed.

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  * * *

  Mariah settled Robbie down for the night and returned to her chamber. One of the maids had built up the fire and left several candles burning for her. She found her brush, sat down on a stool and began to brush her long golden hair.

  Things weren't going at all well for her. She had hoped the king would give her problem his personal attention and rule in Robbie's favor. Never had she expected Fal­con to turn up at Mildenhall and expose all the lies she had told.

  Mariah seriously considered leaving Mildenhall for good. If she was frugal, her widow's portion would last until she found a position as nursemaid or governess. She knew Edwina would come with her to mind Robbie if she asked. Fleeing an intolerable situation was far better than wedding Walter and watching Mildenhall fall into Os­good's vile hands.

  Mariah didn't hear the door open, but her keen senses warned her that she wasn't alone. She rose and turned to­ward the door, expecting to see Edwina. It wasn't Edwina.

  "Walter! What are you doing here?" She backed away as he strode forward. "Get out!"

  "You had best be nice to me, Mariah," Walter drawled. "You want your bastard to reach manhood, do you not?"

  Mariah's hand flew to her throat. "How dare you threaten my son!"

  "Now, why would I do that? I just want you to be nice to me. We'll be man and wife soon, so what's the harm in anticipating the nuptials?" He stalked toward her.

  Mariah put the bed between them. "I will never marry you, Walter. You're as heartless and vile as your father. If you don't leave, I'll scream."

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  Walter laughed as he lunged for her. He missed. "You will lie with me if you value your son."

  Mariah began to shake. She would die if anyone hurt Robbie. But letting Walter bed her was unthinkable.

  Walter made another grab for her and this time caught her skirt. He began reeling her in like a fish on a hook. She screamed, but the sound was quickly stifled by Wal­ter's meaty hand. His fingers dug into her face so hard, Mariah knew they would leave bruises. But that didn't keep her from fighting back.

  ***************************************************************************************

  The hall was empty but for Falcon, Sir John and Sir Mar­tin. They lounged before the hearth, sharing a pitcher of ale before retiring to their separate quarters.

  'This is the first chance we've had to talk since my ar­rival, Sir Martin," Falcon said conversationally. "Tell me, what do you think of Sir Osgood?"

  "Sir Osgood!" Martin spat. "The people fear him and his son. They arrived over a month ago and claimed rights to the keep and its people. Lady Mariah had been expect­ing Sir Osgood to invade the keep and dispatched a letter to the king, asking his help in establishing young Rob­bie's right as Earl of Mildenhall."

  Falcon stroked his chin, aware that what he was about to ask was presumptuous and personal. "You've been stew­ard at Mildenhall a long time, have you not, Sir Martin?"

  Martin immediately became wary. "I have been Mildenhall's steward these past twenty years."

  "Do you believe Osgood's claim that Robbie is illegiti­mate?"

  "Lord Robbie was born during my lady's marriage to Lord Edmond," he said.

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  "That is not what I asked," Falcon pressed.

  Martin chose his words carefully. "Lord Edmond ac­knowledged Robbie. Never say you believe Osgood's charges."

  Martin's words startled Falcon. " "lis too soon to make a judgment."

  "Lady Mariah was devoted to Lord Edmond," Martin said staunchly.

  "Did you know that your lady originally told me Lord Edmond was her father? Why is that, do you suppose?"

  Martin shrugged. "You will have to ask my lady."

  "I did, but she was evasive. I intend to learn the truth of the matter before I leave Mildenhall."

  Falcon rose and stretched. " 'Tis late, I'm for bed."

  John swirled the ale in his tankard and drained it in one gulp. " 'Tis time I retired, too."

  "Sir Knight, Sir Knight, you must go to Lady Mariah immediately! She needs you."

  Edwina rushed up to Falcon, frantically pulling on his arm.

  "Why must I go to her?"

  "She is in grave danger."

  Falcon grew immediately alert. "What kind of danger?"

  "I saw Walter sneaking up the stairs to the solar. He has no business there; his chamber lies in another direction. I fear he intends my lady harm."

  Falcon raced toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. John sprinted after him. Falcon heard a muffled scream and burst into Mariah's chamber in time to see Walter pressing her down onto the bed, one heavy hand over her mouth, the other raising her skirts.

  Walter must have heard the door open for he called

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  harshly, "Get out of here! Can't you see the lady and I want privacy?"

  Falcon could tell by Mariah's struggles that she wasn't the one wanting privacy. With a roar of outrage, he launched himself at Walter. Grasping Walter's doublet, he pulled him off of Mariah and flung him across the cham­ber, where he landed at Sir John's feet. When he started to rise, John pressed his sword against Walter's throat.

  Falcon was too concerned about Mariah to care what was taking place behind him. She had rolled up into a ball on the bed, her hands covering her face. "It's all right, Mariah," he soothed. "Walter won't hurt you again; I'll make sure of it."

  Mariah peeked at him through shaking fingers. "Fal­con?"

  "Aye, Mariah." He perched on the edge of the bed. "Did he hurt
you?"

  She turned toward him, clutching frantically at his shirt. "He wanted, he tried ... Thank you for coming to my aid."

  "Thank Edwina. She alerted me to trouble."

  He noted the bruises on her face, the perfect imprints of Walter's fingers, and cursed. He touched her cheek, turning her face to the light. "Did he do that to you?"

  "He tried to keep me from calling for help."

  Falcon whipped around, turning the full potency of his rage on Walter, who still lay on the floor beneath John's sword.

  "Let him up," Falcon hissed.

  John raised his sword; Walter scrambled to his feet. "This is none of your business, Falcon. This is between Mariah and me."

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  "I'm making it my business. But first—" he glanced over his shoulder at Mariah. "Did you invite Walter to your bedchamber?"

  "Nay! He entered without my permission and at­tacked me."

  "Attack is a harsh word," Walter mumbled, his bravado returning. "I was merely exercising my right as Mariah's betrothed. She opened her legs for other men besides Edmond. Why should I be denied her favors?"

  "I am not your betrothed," Mariah denied vehemently.

  "Be careful what you say, Mariah," Walter warned. "Your future and that of your son depend on my father's goodwill."

  Spinning on his heel, Falcon delivered a stunning blow to Walter's chin. He fell heavily to the floor, holding his jaw and groaning. "Not another word," Falcon growled. "John, escort Walter to his quarters and station a guard outside his door. I want Osgood and his entourage escorted from Mildenhall at first light. They are no longer welcome here."

  "You cannot do that!" Walter howled, rising unsteadily to his feet. "Mildenhall belongs to us."

  "That's for me to decide," Falcon replied. "Rest as­sured your father will be informed of my decision when my investigation is completed and I have reached a deci­sion. I will inform him about his expulsion from the keep as soon as I am free here.