Lords Of Desire Part 11

Cowper lifted her eyelids, then asked her to open her mouth so he could look down her throat. "No bangs or sc.r.a.pes to complain of?" When she shook her head, he took his stethoscope from his bag and listened to her chest. "Breathe deeply, please." He bade her turn around and listened to her back while he tapped it.

The doctor put away his instrument. "I can find no physical symptoms of illness. Your health seems excellent, my dear." He cleared his throat. "Have you any idea where you have been for the last month, Mistress Carswell?"

Tory smiled at the doctor. "I'm sorry, I can't remember."

"Ah yes. I've heard of cases like this, though I've never encountered anyone with such a memory loss before. Sir Peregrine pulled you from the moat this morning. Are you sure you recall nothing before that moment?"

She looked at him trustingly, with wide eyes. "The last thing I recall is being at Bodiam Castle." She glanced at Sir Peregrine and saw his shrewd eyes watching her. He knows exactly what I'm doing, but he's too gallant to call me a liar.

They heard voices outside the chamber and all recognized the bell-like tones of Edwina Carswell. Mr. de Burgh opened the door and cast an apologetic look at Sir Peregrine.

"Lady Carswell, do come in," Fuller invited.

Of course she was already in before the invitation left his lips. The long-suffering young reverend brought up the rear carrying a wicker basket that held some of his sister's garments.

"In the name of all that is decent and holy, I demand to know where you have been, Victoria!"

"Do you, Mother?"

Edwina elbowed Dr. Cowper aside. "What are you doing in Sir Peregrine Fuller's bed?"

Tory's glance swept the chamber. "I seem to be holding court."

"I will not suffer insolence from a daughter who has brought disgrace upon her family."

The doctor spoke up. "Mistress Carswell is not herself at the moment. She is abed because I have prescribed rest."

"Doctor Cowper, I demand that you examine my daughter to ascertain if she is still a maiden. I suspect she has been in this castle for the past month with the connivance of Fuller. If he has taken advantage of her innocence, I demand satisfaction."

Victoria blushed deep pink. "Mother, how could you humiliate me like this before everyone?"

"Humiliate? I am the one who has been humiliated and shamed by your scandalous behavior, you young strumpet! Examine her immediately, doctor."

Sir Peregrine stepped between Edwina and the doctor. "That will not be necessary, madam. I have every intention of asking Victoria to marry me. There will be no scandal unless you make one, Lady Carswell."

"Humph, an offer of marriage is the only decent thing you can do. Keeping her at Bodiam Castle naked, without a st.i.tch of clothing for a month! I cannot imagine what has gone on here."

"Can you not, Mother?"

Edwina turned to her son. "Edmund, you will marry them now."

Tory said, "He will not. I have not consented to a marriage."

"But you will...you must," Edwina declared emphatically.

"Must I, indeed? This is a private matter between Sir Peregrine and me. I think I'll take the doctor's advice and rest now. Goodbye, Mother. Thank you for bringing my clothes, Edmund."

After they left, Tory stayed in bed for an hour, but her thoughts were running in circles, with the past crowding out the present. She felt a compulsion to get on with her future, but the siren song of the past called to her. She reminded herself that there really was no past, present, and future-they were all one. If she held on to this idea she'd be able to embrace all three.

She got out of bed and called for a bath. She washed her hair and wrapped her head in a towel, then she opened the wicker basket of clothes that Edmund had brought. As she lifted out each garment she became dismayed that she had ever worn such unflattering dresses. Finally the dismay turned to laughter. Who on earth dictates the clothes that Victorian women wear? Surely it's not the young queen? The high, frilled necklines, leg-of-mutton sleeves, and voluminous skirts covered every inch of skin beneath the chin that a female possessed. Even the colors were either dark or drab, which only added to her amus.e.m.e.nt. Every garment I own serves as a horrible example of what not to wear!

She chose the dress that was the least offensive shade. It was the pale mauve cambric she had worn the first time she'd come to the castle and it gave her pleasure only because it matched the color of her eyes. She took her brush from the basket and stroked her dark hair until it crackled. She smiled at her reflection as she remembered what Falcon had said the first time he saw her: Why d'you wear your hair screwed into a k.n.o.b? Tory tossed her tresses over her shoulder. No more k.n.o.bs for me, Falcon my love!

Tory could not resist going up the steps and out onto the tower roof. Right away she could see that Ashdown Forest had been cut back from where it was a hundred years ago and the sprawling town of Hawkhurst was no longer a village. She walked across to the river side of the castle and saw the Rother had changed little.

She gazed down into the moat. It was a long way down and she marveled at the courage she had summoned to make the jump. She suddenly realized that this was where Sir Peregrine must have been standing this morning when he saw her in the moat.

I stood here, too, with no escape but the water below. How curious-we must have occupied the same s.p.a.ce at the same time. I know we are inextricably connected, but can I make him believe? Victoria smiled her secret smile. Teaching Peregrine that he was Falcon would be the challenge of a lifetime.

She felt his presence before she saw him. He came toward her across the crenellated roof. "I am delighted to see you have recovered, Mistress Carswell."

"My name is Tory, as well you know." She swept out her hand. "Ashdown Forest is wearing her brilliant autumn colors. It is no wonder you like to stand atop this tower. The view is breathtaking." She pointed to the river. "That's where the Seac.o.c.k was moored."

"I have imagined it often. Did you know that the ship's bell beside the portcullis is the Seac.o.c.k's bell? It came into the foundry one day as sc.r.a.p metal and I rescued it."

"That's amazing...yet not amazing. Did you know that Lord Hawkhurst's name was Peregrine Palmer?"

"Since I am Peregrine Palmer Fuller, he was obviously my ancestor."

"Falcon is much more than your ancestor.... He is you, and you are he. His soul has been reborn in you. Do you believe that such a thing could be possible?"

He looked at her for a long time. "I like to think I have an open mind. I believe it is no more amazing to be born twice than to be born once."

"Your gold ring...how long have you had it?"

He looked at his hand. "I had it made about ten years ago. A peregrine falcon seemed to be an apt symbol for a seal ring."

Tory raised her hand and lifted her thumb so that they could compare the gold rings. "The two are identical, not only in design but also in size. Do you not find that curious?"

"It is indeed a coincidence."

"I do not believe in coincidence. Rather I believe that you once owned the ring I am wearing and something compelled you to recreate it. Our past shapes our present."

"Since I am pa.s.sionate about history, I believe it to be true that our past can shape our present."

"Except there is no past, present, or future; they are all one."

"That is an interesting concept that most would find difficult to imagine."

"But not difficult for you, Sir Peregrine."

He smiled and changed the subject. "Are you hungry, Victoria?"

"Yes. Lunch is a most welcome suggestion."

He took her down to the dining room and seated her across from him. He poured her wine, then carved some slices from a cold leg of lamb and allowed her to choose her own vegetables.

"Do you remember the raw oysters, followed by winkles when we dined at...I'm so sorry, that was Falcon. I can't separate you."

"Did he look so much like me?" Peregrine asked, bemused.

"You are physically identical, but he was often lewd and occasionally rather coa.r.s.e, and reckless beyond measure."

"You don't think me capable of lewdness or recklessness?"

"Perhaps all men are capable of such things, but I would hope not every day and night of your life," she teased.

"You will have to get to know me better to learn the answer."

"Tell me, do you own a matched pair of officer's belt pistols?"

His eyebrows arched in surprise. "How did you know?"

Tory shrugged. "I thought you might. When we've finished lunch, I'd like to show you something in the courtyard."

"You know more of Bodiam Castle's secrets than I know."

"I warrant I do and perhaps I know your secrets, too."

Amus.e.m.e.nt danced in his eyes; Tory knew he enjoyed her company.

After lunch, the pair strolled out to the gra.s.sy quadrangle that was the castle courtyard. "One day I asked Falcon if he would teach me how to shoot. He brought me out here for target practice. He was a marvelous shot and put out the flames of two candles at twenty paces. He gave me his right-handed pistol and warned me of the dangers of going off half-c.o.c.ked. I was hopeless, though I tried many times. I gave up when my lead ball hit the castle wall and chipped one of the stones. Let me show you the spot...it's right over here."

Sir Peregrine ran his fingers across the rough stone. "I never noticed it before, but it looks like it was done with a ball."

"Yes. When it happened, I knew it would be there for all time."

He grinned at her. "Did you leave anything else behind, Tory?"

Apart from my virginity? "The day before I left, we dropped some wooden cases wrapped in oilskins into the moat. They contained cacao beans that were grown in Portuguese Guinea. That was a hundred years ago. They've likely disintegrated by now."

"Most probably," he agreed. "You shivered. Let's go inside, you need a warm cloak today."

"Edmund didn't bring me a cloak, which is just as well. The garments he did bring are all hideous."

"I think the dress you are wearing is most fetching."

"Falcon would have found it retching! Female fashions in 1737 were absolutely exquisite. I'm certainly going to miss the clothes. The chamber below yours in the round tower was furnished for a woman and its wardrobe was crammed with gowns and female frippery. He told me they belonged to his sister, but of course I knew they had belonged to a mistress who had slung her hook."

"The things you say fascinate me, Victoria. Let's go up and you can show me the chamber."

They went inside and climbed the spiral staircase of the round tower. The chamber she had thought of as hers was empty now, save for dust and cobwebs.

"The walls were covered with medieval tapestries that depicted mythical beasts. I had a huge curtained bed, a mirrored wardrobe and even a slipper bath that was hand-painted with roses."

Sir Peregrine took two steps that brought him close to her. "We could re-create the chamber, if it would give you pleasure."

His closeness made her feel breathless. "That is certainly within the realm of possibility."

"What are these secrets you hinted that you know about me?"

She put her head on one side and glanced up. "Though I have never seen you without your shirt, I warrant you have tattoos."

His dark eyes widened. "Would you like to see me without my shirt, Tory?"

She caught her breath. "That's not necessary. You have peregrine falcons tattooed on your forearms."

"d.a.m.n, everything you say lends credence to your story of going back in time. Yet how can such a thing be possible?"

She looked up at him and raised her fingers to stroke the birthmark on his cheek. "When I first met Falcon, his cheek was unmarred. Later, he received a sword slash that opened his cheek from ear to chin. I was the one who st.i.tched it. I knew it would leave a livid scar, but it did not detract from his looks."

He captured her hand, holding her fingers against his cheek and looked into her eyes. "You fell in love with him, didn't you, Victoria?"

"Falcon was a pirate and a smuggler.... How could I not fall in love?" she whispered.

Peregrine bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. Then his mouth took complete possession and he kissed her pa.s.sionately, unleashing the desire that had been riding him since the day weeks ago when he had first glimpsed the water nymph.

CHAPTER 11.

Tory closed her eyes and felt the kiss all the way to her toes. She was in Falcon's arms, pressed close against Falcon's heart, her mouth fused to his so perfectly, she wanted it to last forever. When she could think as well as feel, she was reluctant to open her eyes for fear the spell would be broken. She summoned the courage and lifted her lashes.

He is still Falcon! Her heart swelled at the realization that physically Falcon and Peregrine were the same man. Their touch, taste, and scent were thrillingly identical. His dark eyes looked deeply into hers and it seemed as if their souls touched. We've known each other forever.

"We haven't just met recently, Tory. I feel as if we have known each other intimately for years."

She smiled happily. "I feel that way, too."

"Good. Come upstairs, we have much to discuss and many decisions to make."

When they arrived in his chamber, Peregrine sat her down before the fire and took the other chair.

"Tell me honestly, do you believe the things I've been telling you? Do you think it possible you are Falcon, Lord Hawkhurst?"

"The honest answer is: I don't know. Tell me about him."

"He told me that one day he was unpacking a shipment of tea he'd taken from an East Indiaman. He lifted the lid of one of the boxes and there to his amazement was a leopard kit. He decided to call her-"

Peregrine held up his hand to stay her words as a long forgotten memory stirred his imagination. "Pandora...he called her Pandora, I think."

"You do remember! Oh, this is wonderful!"