Free The Lady and the Falconer by Laurel O'Donnell

kind eyes. “I’ll stay with him.” She wiped some of the young woman’s tears from her cheeks before urging her toward safety with a gentle shove.
    As soon as the girl was moving, Solace turned her gaze back to the miller. She had seen sword wounds and arrow wounds before, and she knew enough to realize that bleeding from the mouth almost always preceded death.
    The miller coughed again, splattering her dress with blood. She took his hand in hers and smoothed some hair back from his forehead. His eyes locked with hers for a long moment, his hand tightening convulsively around hers, before his eyes glazed over and he went limp, his hand slipping from hers. Solace stared at the man for a long moment. Then she lifted a shaking hand and wiped it across his brow in a final good-bye.
    Suddenly, she was pulled up... into the arms of the falconer! His gray eyes stared intensely at her for a moment, and strangely, the look calmed her racing heart. Then, he pulled her after him, grabbing a large wooden half-barrel and dumping the water out as he moved. Before she knew what was happening, he shoved her against a building and lifted the barrel before them as a protective barrier. She jumped as an arrow slammed into it, its metal tip erupting through the wood inches from her face! She stared at the sharp, deadly arrowhead for a long moment, fear closing around her heart in an iron grip. She turned a terrified gaze to the falconer.
    He threw the useless half-barrel to the ground and pressed her back against the wall, shoving her there with his body. Solace pressed her cheek against his chest and squeezed her eyes closed as he cocooned her head in his arms. She heard the quick beating of his heart, felt the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. Her fingers curled into his tunic, clenching it tightly in her trembling fists.
    Loud thunks sounded to her left and right.
    Then the falconer pulled away from her. He grabbed her arm and bolted for the inner ward. Solace couldn’t match his large strides. If he hadn’t been holding her arm, she would have stumbled and fallen. Finally, they dashed inside the inner ward and the gates closed behind them.
    Dorothy ran up to Solace, crying, “M’lady! Are you all right?”
    The falconer released Solace’s arm, and as she turned to thank him, he melted into the shadows. Solace opened her mouth, but a protective crowd of peasants encircled her, cutting her off from him. Her gratitude went unspoken. She anxiously searched the darkness near the wall, but the falconer was gone.
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Logan watched the peasants convene around Solace. Like bees to honey, he thought. At least she was all right. He was surprised that his own concern for her felt genuine.
    He turned away and moved toward the mews. The falcon floated down from the skies to perch again at his shoulder. He knew that eventually he’d have to seek out the lady Solace and somehow gain her confidence. But he would have to tread carefully. Suspicions were running high since the dungeon guard was found slain. Even old Ben had been looking at him strangely. He would have to wait a few more days.
    It will give me time to think, Logan thought. Perhaps too much time.
    The image of long dark hair, a defiant upturned chin and shapely body rose in his mind. He cursed silently. Why did Solace have to be so damned... He shook his head fiercely. She was the enemy. She was a Farindale. Still...
    Fool, he berated himself. He knew he had risked enough by opening the gates for her. And then, later, he had been ready for a fight, waiting for the castle guards to come and imprison him. But it had not happened. Somehow, lady Alissa had not seen fit to have him clapped in irons for disobeying her direct command. Somehow...
    He entered the courtyard that housed the mews. Old Ben had the door to the small house that sheltered his prize birds open and was sweeping out droppings and uneaten bits of food. Logan turned and moved toward his