Once Upon a Castle - Jill Gregory [73]
“Miss Felicity.” He bowed stiffly. “I am Simmons, butler to Lord Falcon. I bid you welcome.”
“Thank you, Simmons. Does Lord Falcon know I’m here?”
At her eager question he shook his head. “I shall deliver the news at once.” He gave a glance toward the staff, who were studying her with keen interest. “It is rare for anyone except the servants to be about this early. Mrs. Atherton assures me that a morning meal can be prepared for you in short order and will be served in the dining room. Perhaps, in the meantime, you would like a walk in the gardens. Though they are not yet in bloom, there are some lovely fountains and stone benches for your comfort.”
“Will Lord Falcon be joining me?”
The butler shook his head. “These days the old lord rarely leaves his bed.”
“Then perhaps I could join Lord Falcon in his room for a morning meal.”
Though his expression never altered, Simmons stood even straighter. His tone was stern, revealing his outrage. “I’m afraid that would be highly improper. Lord Falcon does not entertain guests in his private chambers.”
Felicity blushed clear to her toes, knowing that she must appear bold indeed. “There was a time when Lord Falcon was my father’s oldest and dearest friend. Though I’ve never met him, I feel as though I’ve known him for a lifetime. I’m eager to see if the impressions I have of him are correct.”
Simmons seemed to consider for a moment, his frown deepening. “It is an unusual request, one I feel certain Lord Falcon will deny. But I shall ask him at once. If he gives his approval, what shall I fetch you to eat, Miss Felicity?”
“Tea and a biscuit will be fine.”
If he was surprised at the simplicity of her needs, he gave no indication. He strode away and returned a few minutes later carrying a silver tray covered with a linen cloth. “Follow me,” he said as he led the way from the kitchen.
Felicity followed him up the wide, curving staircase and along the upper hallway to a set of double doors. Except for a few candles in sconces, the sitting room was in darkness. They crossed the room, and he signaled her to wait in the doorway as he entered an even larger room, where a fire blazed on the hearth. By the light of the fire Felicity could make out the figure in the bed.
“Good morning, my lord,” the butler said softly.
“Simmons.” The voice was rough and scratchy but still carried the roar of an old lion. “Who is that in the shadows?”
“Miss Felicity Andrews, from America.” The butler set the tray on a table and hurried toward the bed. “She wishes to take her morning meal with you here in your room.”
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then the figure struggled to a sitting position. At once Simmons was beside him, propping mounds of pillows around him, smoothing the coverlet until not a wrinkle remained.
“Open the drapes,” the old lord commanded.
Simmons moved around the room, pulling open the heavy draperies. Morning sunlight streamed in, filling the room with light and warmth. It was a large room, comfortably furnished, with a huge bed hung with linens. Over the bed were crossed swords, their jeweled hilts and finely honed blades glinting in the sun’s rays.
“Come closer,” the old man commanded imperiously.
Felicity strode to the foot of the bed, and she and Lord Falcon had their first look at one another.
“So.” It seemed more a sigh than a word. A sigh that welled up from deep within the old man’s soul. Lord Falcon cleared his throat and tried again. “You have the look of your father. About the eyes mostly. And the hair, though his was more red, as I recall.”
Felicity smiled. She had heard such comments all her life.
“Where is Rob?”
“I buried him almost a month ago.” The pain was so unexpected she nearly swayed. But pride and propriety would not allow it. She merely clasped her hands together until the knuckles were white.
“Dead.” Lord Falcon looked stricken. “This cannot be,” he said more to himself than to her. “I needed him. Was counting on him to…” He looked up. “Why have