Smuggler's Lair (13 page)

He raised a dark brow. “Did you wear green?”

“I did! Falcon gave me some green silk shot through with silver threads. I loved it so much.... That's the reason I chose green today.”

“It's your color, my beauty. You should always wear green.”

“Can you afford to indulge me with silk dresses?”

“I'm not exactly a pauper, Tory.”

“You will be when I get through with you,” she teased.

Tory tasted the crab with melted shallot butter then sampled the beef brisket with red wine gravy. “It all tastes divine, but I can't wait for the dessert.”

“Me neither,” Falcon said with a wicked leer. He put some fruit trifle in a small porcelain dish, picked up a spoon, and moved around the table. He lifted Tory into his lap and fed her trifle alternated with kisses. “Mmm, you taste of pears, almonds, and cream cake, an irresistible combination.”

They quickly lost interest in the food as Falcon began to undress his bride. He admired her corset and drawers, but his fingers soon began to unfasten the strings so that her luscious breasts spilled into his hands. It wasn't long before her drawers followed the corset and his lips caressed every inch of her warm, satiny skin.

Tory began to unfasten his shirt. “I want to see your tattoos,” she whispered as she helped divest him of his garments. When they were both nude, he clasped her tenderly in his arms and quoted from the Song of Solomon:
“Let her kiss me with the kisses of her mouth . . . your lips are like a thread of scarlet . . . honey and milk are under your tongue . . . your navel is like a round goblet.”

The Song of Solomon seemed most apt for a reverend's daughter, so Victoria began where he stopped.
“His cheeks are as a bed of spices . . . his belly as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires . . . his legs are as pillars of marble.”

Falcon carried her to the bed. Tory's pulse beat wildly; her eyes feasted on the raptors displayed on his powerful forearms as he pulled the velvet curtains so they were enclosed in their own private world.
It seems like forever since he made love to me, then when I thought I had lost him to death, I feared I would never feel his arms about me again.
“Love me, Falcon!”

He kissed her for a full hour, then played with her hair and her body for another hour before he made love to her. He enjoyed the love play as much as she did. Finally, he thrust into her silken sheath and the throbbing fullness inside her set her whole body a-shiver. She loved his powerful maleness. Everything about him was hard as rock—his arms, his chest, his thighs, all corded with solid muscle. When his shudder came, it was so intense it entered her and she shuddered also, becoming one with him.

Falcon held her for a full hour after the loving, savoring the afterglow, whispering tender love words, enjoying the way she clung to him, pressing her lips against his throat. “My heart overflows with love for you, Tory.”

Finally, he watched as she drifted into sleep, her arms entwined about his neck as if she wanted to be sure he would not disappear again. He smiled into the darkness, completely content.
We are soul mates forever.

* * *

The next morning Tory lay supine, cradled between Falcon's legs while they talked. “The money we would spend going to London for a honeymoon trip would be better spent on Bodiam, I've decided. London in winter isn't very appealing. Let's put it off until next year.”

“Are you sure, love? I thought you wanted a new wardrobe.”

“I can design the dresses myself and have a Hawkhurst sewing woman make the clothes.”

“This practical side of you is something new to me,” he teased.

“Wait until you see my domesticated side. I have the whole week planned. I want all the servants to help me clean the cobwebs and dust from every area of the castle. All the flagstone floors of the chambers and corridors must be mopped. I even have a job for you.”

“Ah, I suspected there would be a bloody fly in the ointment.”

“I'll put you in charge of the high windows. Any that are broken or cracked must be replaced; the rest washed with vinegar.”

“God help me, you issue orders like a sergeant major.”

“Well, I am the mistress of Bodiam.”

“Aye, and I am still the master. Let me prove it to you.” He rolled her beneath him and took possession of her mouth. Tory dissolved into laughter and allowed him to have his way with her.

Two hours later, Victoria led a mop-and-bucket brigade through the chambers of the top floor, since they were the ones that had been most neglected.

The following day, Victoria and the castle staff cleaned the next floor down and the day after that they tackled the main floor chambers of Bodiam.

Tory chose the long corridor that led to the round tower. On her hands and knees she mopped the flagstones, methodically moving her knee cushion backward as each section became clean.

When she reached the end, she sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork. Suddenly, she blinked and then rubbed her eyes. At the far end of the corridor she saw a leopard coming toward her. “Pandora!” Tory watched in amazement as the big cat turned and padded back the way she had come and then disappeared.

Tory got up off her knees and began to run. She climbed the spiral staircase of the round tower, calling Falcon's name.

Her husband was on a tall ladder cleaning the windows of their chamber. “What's amiss, sweetheart?”

“Falcon, you may not believe this, but I've just seen Pandora's ghost!”

He came down the ladder and stared at her intently. Tory was so fey and attuned to mystical impressions from the past that he believed the things she told him. “Where was she?”

“Pandora was in the long corridor on the ground floor. That was the exact same place that I first saw her, when she almost frightened me to death.”

Falcon took Tory's hand and they descended the stairs together. “She padded toward me, then turned and went back, then vanished. Has she ever appeared to you?”

“Only in my dreams, I'm afraid.”

“Why did she appear to me? There has to be a reason.”

Falcon was alarmed. He hoped Victoria wasn't about to follow her back into the shadows of the past.

Tory's eyes widened. “The treasure! She guards a treasure!”

Falcon took her hands into his. “What do you mean?”

She gazed into his bold black eyes. “When you were dying, you told me you had hidden a treasure and that you wanted me to have it. Somewhere there is a large iron chest filled with solid gold reales that you marauded from a Spanish galleon!”

Falcon recoiled. “Did I sink the galleon?”

“No, no, I swear you did not, though you told me that sadly she sank on her return voyage. It is no wonder you felt compelled to equip the new ship with lifeboats.”

“You think the treasure is hidden somewhere in this corridor?”

“I do! But I've just mopped the entire length. I cannot imagine where it could be hidden. Let's search.”

They moved together slowly, looking closely at the floor and running their hands over the stone walls. When they found so sign of a hidden compartment, they turned around and searched the entire length again. They found nothing.

“Falcon, only you know where the treasure is hidden.”

“Sweetheart, if there was ever gold hidden here, I fear it is long gone. You are speaking of events of a hundred years ago.”

“Falcon, stop talking. Listen to your inner voice. All you have to do is open your mind.”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He stood there for long minutes as if he were in a deep trance. Eventually he opened his eyes and moved with purpose down the corridor. He paced off thirty-nine steps, then he halted and knelt down, placing his palms on the flagstone in front of him.

Victoria came up behind him. “Do you remember something?”

“Yes, the iron chest is buried beneath this flagstone.”

“Falcon, that's amazing. I knew you had the knowledge.”

“Stay right here. I'll get de Burgh and a crowbar.”

It took the two men the better part of an hour to pry the huge flagstone loose and, using the iron crowbar as a lever, lift it from where it had lain for a hundred years.

All three of them tried to lift the iron chest from where it had been buried, but it was far too heavy. Finally, Falcon broke the lock with the long iron tool and he lifted the lid.

Tory sat cross-legged on the floor giddy with joy as Falcon scooped gold reales into her lap. “Please tell me it's real?”

“Its value is beyond your wildest dreams, my love.”

“Will there be enough money to restore Bodiam?”

“Twice over, I warrant!”

“You mean there will be lots left over?”

De Burgh laughed. “You couldn't spend this in a lifetime.”

“Can we send my brother Edmund to Paris, France, to study art?”

“Absolutely!”

“Oh dear, that would mean Mother wouldn't be able to stay at the priory, if Edmund was no longer the reverend.”

Falcon grinned. “We'll buy the priory as a gift for her.”

Tory jumped up and threw her arms about Falcon's neck and dozens of gold reales rolled across the flagstones. “This means we can go to London!”

“I thought you said London in winter wasn't very appealing.”

“I've changed my mind! I can't think of anything more romantic than a honeymoon in London, buying antiques for Bodiam.”

“Indeed, madam?” He masked his amusement and with a straight face demanded, “What makes you think you will decide how I spend my treasure?”

“Because it isn't your treasure, it's mine! You gave it to me a hundred years ago, you damned pirate!”

Laughing, he took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. “Have it, sweetheart. I don't need it.
You
are my treasure.”

“And you are my Peregrine Falcon. I love you with all my heart.”

Virginia Henley
is a
USA Today
and
New York Times
bestselling author. Her work has been translated into fourteen languages. She is the recipient of more than a dozen writing awards, including a
Romantic Times
Lifetime Achievement Award, a Waldenbooks Bestselling Award, and a Maggie Award for Excellence from the Georgia Romance Writers. She lives in Florida with her husband. Visit her at
www.virginiahenley.com
.

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