A Wanton's Thief (16 page)

“Your time will come, John. Lorcan, no doubt, knows all about it.”

“Eh.” He waved a hand. “Lorcan is nothing but a daft old wizard. His rants and babbling raves are a waste of time.”

“One day, friend,” Falcon said as he started to walk away, “you will learn otherwise.”

“Have a safe journey, Montague. I shall look after your woman’s welfare.”

“Much thanks, Little John.” Falcon waved and went in search of Warrior.

Distracted by his plans, he barely registered the sight of Grizella standing on the edge of camp in a deep conversation with Lathrop, the injured man brought back with them from Sheldon Tremayne’s party.

Chapter Nine

Salena awoke with a start. Through the cave opening, she could see the black of the sky. The clouds had cleared and pinpoint stars scattered over its expanse like slivers of shattered crystal. She could see a copse of gnarled, leafless, snow-sprinkled trees against the full yellow moon. Inside the cave’s space, the fire had long since died out. It was so cold that she could see her breath coming out in puffs against the moonlight. Though her body was nice and toasty warm beneath the pelt, her head was chilled to the skull. She burrowed deeper in the fur and tried to go back to sleep. The more she slept, she thought, the sooner it would seem that Falcon would return.

She had just slipped back into the blissful rim of sleep when she heard the voice.

“Milady?” came the gruff whisper.

She bolted upright dragging the fur with her. Clutching the bearskin to her naked breasts, she screeched, “Who’s there? What do you want?”

“‘Tis Lathrop, yer brother’s footman.”

He moved closer and her heart leapt into a frantic rhythm. “If you do not leave me this instant, I shall scream!”

“Do not be frightened, Lady Tremayne. I am here to help you escape back to Wyngate Hall.” He moved into the lunar beams and she did, indeed, see that it was Lathrop. She’d never spoken but polite greetings to him in the past, so his voice did not sound familiar to her. But his mousy-brown, scraggly hair and thin body structure could not be mistaken.

His words sank in. Back home? She finally had an opportunity, unattended by Falcon, to escape? Did she want to?

“B-but…”

“Thanks to a sympathizer in the thief’s band of men, I’ve a small wagon tethered to a mule a ways up the path,” he murmured gruffly. “You can hide in the straw beneath the tarp until we get nearer the keep on the morrow.”

I’m finally free to go.
So why did she feel this utter sense of loss and sadness at the prospect? All she could do was stare at Lathrop’s thin silhouette against the moonlight. Her teeth began to chatter yet perspiration pooled between her breasts.

“But the m-master of this—”

He snorted. “Aye, that ruthless Robin Hood. I saw him before he tore out of here hours ago, cavorting with that Grizella woman. Shameless bastard he be, and so soon after forcing himself upon you, milady.”

“Cavorting?” Suddenly, she felt ill, completely nauseated.

“Oh, you can bet, cavorting. The damn scalawag dipped his cock between her legs, right after he came from your—” She heard him gulp. “Ah, pardon me for subjecting you to such nasty language. Forgive me, Lady Tremayne.”

The bile rose and threatened to hurl onto the man. Falcon made love with that jealous she-cat? And right after leaving her bed and telling her she was his forever? Tears stung her eyes even as the anger simmered deep in her chest. She’d given wholly of herself. She’d even given
more
than any woman ever expected to give by offering herself to Falcon and John at the same time. And all so they could energize their immortal souls?
And because she—no! Don’t say it, Salena. Don’t even think it.
Never, ever again would she allow herself to be duped by any man.

The bastard!

“Lady Tremayne?”

“It’s…it’s all right, Lathrop. I’m just…thinking.”

“Of course.” She heard him shift as if he struggled to remain patient.

All the while, her heart ached, her pulse pounded with anger and she could not stop the silent tears. They poured over her cheeks in droplets of cold moisture. Grateful for the dim moonlight to hide her torrid emotions, she choked out, “You say there’s a mule nearby with a cart?”

“Aye. We must leave posthaste, before those left behind alert that bunch of hooligans who went on that scavenger raid earlier in the night. That Little John fellow is still here—we mustn’t go crossing that giant—but he sleeps at the moment. Now is the time, miss. We must leave now, else forego our chances indefinitely.”

“I-I must…gather my things, get…dressed.”

He nodded vigorously. “Of course. I’ll be waiting outside the cave. But hurry, milady. We must hurry.”

“I—yes, I will go as quickly as I can.”

He slipped from the cave leaving her to stare in shocked loneliness.

“Falcon, how could you?” she whispered.

But she knew precisely how. He was a lying, cheating bastard of a wizard. He no doubt used his dark magic on all women in much the same way he had her. Poor, unsuspecting ladies who think they’ve got themselves a charming, attentive man only to find out they’ve been made to be a fool.

Never again, Salena Tremayne, never!
She’d return home, throw herself upon Sheldon’s mercy and pray he found her a match who would accept her soiled body and offer her a home for the remaining days of her dull life to come.

And she would make it her life’s mission, she thought as she fumbled in the dark and found her garments, to forget that scheming scoundrel. That is, once she saw that he’s hunted down and made to pay for breaking her gullible heart!

She righted her undergarments and pulled her gown over her head. Next, she donned her boots and laced them up.

“Milady…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. I’ve just to find my cloak. Ah, here it is.” She crawled from the cave and emerged eager to put miles between her and this lair of his. It made her skin shiver with gooseflesh just thinking of all the carnal things that had happened there. No, never again.

“This way.” Lathrop led her through the snow toward a denser part of the woods. He held up his finger indicating that she was to remain silent as they passed by John’s lean-to shelter. He appeared to be in a very deep sleep. She could hear the faint sounds of snores. A quick glance about told her everyone left behind in the camp seemed to have over-imbibed on too much spirits perhaps. Or mayhap they’d merely overextended their body’s physical capabilities by living this harsh lifestyle?

Her heart did a little flutter when her thoughts turned back to what she’d experienced with John and Falcon. Even now, her pussy throbbed and warm juices leaked from her passage at the memories of it. But she forced the carnal, forbidden thoughts to the far recesses of her mind when she saw Grizella lying there in bed with him, her eyes peeping over John’s thick chest. She was wide awake and those eyes gleamed in the stray light of the moon. Salena’s heart lurched for she expected the woman to rise and sound an alarm. But instead, she watched Salena and Lathrop like a hawk as they passed by, as if she yearned for them to get out of her sight as soon as possible.

Of course! Salena concluded. The woman wanted Falcon and John to herself. And allowing Salena to escape was her solution to that problem of another woman intruding upon her territory.

So, it was all over. Falcon and John had used her like a common harlot and then tossed her aside at the first pretty face that happened upon them. The she-devil in man’s clothing had won the short-lived war without even trying.

And what did that say for Salena’s abilities to keep a man? Well, she no longer cared. Salena marched past the shelter and followed Lathrop through the woods. He led her to a hitched cart just as he’d promised.

“Get in,” he ordered, flipping the leather tarp aside. She obeyed, climbing into the cart. After one wistful glance through the trees at the cave she’d shared with him, she lay down upon the thick pile of straw and closed her eyes.

Once again, the tears came. She heard Lathrop urge the mule into a trot. And to keep herself from leaping out of the cart and running back to his cozy bed, she turned her back and burrowed deep into the straw.

Sleep soon overtook her, but it was in no way restful.

* * * * *

Falcon disengaged the lock on the library’s veranda door and slipped into the room. The library had a chill in the air as if it hadn’t been used in days. The pungent odor of lingering cigar smoke previously soaked into the draperies assaulted his nose. Despite that detection, it was apparent no one was about in the manor at this time of the night. The entire Wyngate Hall seemed to be as still as a mausoleum.

By the yellow light of the moon that bathed the room, he could see his destination, the single side table positioned to the left of the hearth. Making his way around the large mahogany desk and scattered furnishings, he reached the table with haste. His eyes rose to the inlaid stones set above the mantel. Cold ash now filled the space within the hearth, another sign the room had been vacated for hours at minimum, perhaps since his last visit.

He eyed the stones and located the one he was sure had been removable. It was the precise location where he’d seen the man—a man he was now almost certain had been Sheldon Tremayne—remove the rocky protrusion and withdraw what Falcon had thought to be the key to the drawer in the table. And it was that particular drawer where the certain document was housed, the one the man that night had wadded up in anger, blaming Salena for what, he didn’t know.

But he would soon find out…

He ran his palms over the cold, smooth stone. It jiggled only slightly, but would not pop free. A footstep abovestairs made him start, then pause. Perspiration dribbled down between his shoulder blades. With a set to his jaw, he swept the outer edges of the rock.

“Bull’s-eye.” His thumb found the indentation on the upper edge. He poked his finger into the hole and a latch clicked freeing the stone. Setting it aside, he narrowed his eyes taking in the moonlit little recess much like the cave he’d left her tucked safely inside.

He leaned in, his hand swiping the inner floor. And there it was. The key. He gripped it, pulling it from its hiding place. Sidestepping to the small table, he bent and inserted the key. As he turned it, a sound reverberated through the room, identical to that he’d heard while lurking behind the drapes that night. The drawer slid open with ease. Again, just as he thought, the crumpled document lay nestled in the wooden space. His hand snatched it up and he stuffed it into his codpiece. He closed the drawer, locked it, replaced the key and snapped the stone back into its cavern.

It was time to discover the truth.

Falcon spun on his booted heel and exited the way he’d come. He cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a soft whistle. Warrior bounded around the corner of the manor. As the beast trotted by, Falcon grasped his mane and catapulted himself up into a mount. He made his way through the quiet courtyard, around the deserted market and shops until he reached the drawbridge. Just as before, he
tazired
the guard and tore out across the lowered bridge. He heard the creak and groan behind him of the bridge rising back into place, but he didn’t wait to see that it was secure. He dug his heels into the steed’s flanks and raced toward the forest.

Falcon didn’t stop until he reached a lone cottage in a clearing. He urged Warrior up to the lantern that hung outside the stable door.

“Who goes there?” An elderly man hobbled out from the stable’s interior. He was dressed as a poor pauper would be in ragged clothes and a thin cloak and hat.

“‘Tis only I, Otis.”

“Ah, Robin Hood! How are ye, son?” Otis shuffled toward Falcon’s right side.

He shot him a distracted look and drew out both a gold coin and the document. “Fine and dandy, thank you, sir. I’ve come to borrow your lighting. Here.” He tossed the coin to the old man, watching as it tumbled, the lantern’s light glinting off its shiny surface. “My payment for use of the lantern and for your silence. I’ve people possibly tracking me.”

The man grinned toothlessly, both in delight at the treasure and at Falcon’s words. “When do ye not have people in pursuit of ye?”

Falcon couldn’t help but chuckle. “How is the wife?”

Otis’ smile faded. “She isn’t well. Has some sort of nasty, festering wound she got while out gathering firewood. I do not know what to do with her. There is no doctor who will come this far out, not without my weight in gold as payment. I was just out here in search of a horse’s salve I could have sworn I had. But I cannot find it.”

“I shall send Little John along.”

“Little John? But why him?”

“Eh…he has a way with healing. Much like a doctor’s touch.”

“Really? Then she will be all right, Robin?”

Falcon couldn’t help but reach down and ruffle the man’s cap atop his head. “Sure she will be fine. You keep her well fed and comfortable until he arrives.”

“Aye, I’ll do just that.”

“Now, please, if I may have some privacy by the light here?”

“Ye’re welcome to come inside and read by the firelight, warm ye bones a bit.”

“Nay, I am in a rush. But I do thank you. Now, go to your wife and care for her until John arrives.”

“Thank ye, son, fer the coin and fer the hope ye’ve given me.” He nodded and shuffled away, slipping inside the cottage.

Falcon opened the folded paper and straightened the creases, tilting it toward the light. He scanned the letter once, twice.

Yes, it was just as he thought. Sheldon’s motivation for murder sat right in the palm of Falcon’s hand. And he must go show Salena the proof so that she will not continue to pine for home.

He was just whirling Warrior back on the path when John suddenly materialized before him in a hazy mass.