The Falcon and the Flower (12 page)

At this, both de Burgh men made a sound of derision.
Avisa looked archly at Hugh, daring him to openly scoff at such prophecies.

Jasmine had been ignored long enough. “Your grace, King Richard is dead and John will be crowned king. You will be Queen Avisa of England, and I have come to ask to be your first lady-in-waiting.” A hush fell over the room. Avisa looked quickly to Hubert de Burgh and Jasmine glanced defiantly at Falcon.

Falcon said firmly, “Richard is dead, the rest is speculation from our renowned ‘oracle.’” He inclined his head in Estelle’s direction.

“Fascinating!” declared Avisa. “We shall dissect the possibility over supper.” She picked up some of Jasmine’s luggage. “Come, my dear, and we’ll find you a pretty chamber.” She towered over the petite girl, making Falcon think how incongruous they appeared. Jasmine had come to be lady-in-waiting to a queen, but it was the queen who was waiting upon his delectable betrothed.

When they were out of earshot of the men, Jasmine felt an explanation was needed. “When my grandmother saw these things in her crystal, I wanted to become a lady of the queen’s court with all my heart. De Burgh forbade me to come to you here at Cirencester, so I simply left. Unfortunately, our escort David was set upon and stabbed in the back, and then de Burgh caught up with us and there was hell to pay.”

Avisa smiled confidentially at her and whispered, “These de Burgh men are the very Devil, are they not?”

Jasmine opened her eyes wide solemnly and said, “I hate him. They betrothed me to him against my will.”

Avisa was amused, though she had too generous a nature to let the amusement show. My God, how she envied this innocent the awakening the girl was about to experience at the hands and lips of Falcon de Burgh.

“Oh, my lady, this chamber is lovely,” Jasmine exclaimed. “In fact, the whole manor house takes my
breath away. I’m afraid Winwood Keep is a very rude place, and even my father’s castle of Salisbury is poorly furnished compared to this.”

Avisa said kindly, “I’m sure you’d like to bathe and rest after your wretched journey. Just pull the bellrope for a servant for anything you desire.”

“Ah, I cannot take the time. With your permission, my lady, I should like to help Estelle nurse David.”

When the two de Burghs found themselves alone, Hugh explained, “I had designs on Avisa for my wife many years ago. However, she was too good a catch for the likes of me—heiress of the Earl of Gloucester with huge estates in the west extending into Glamorgan. King Henry married her to his favorite son, John. After that, John’s financial worries were over and it stopped people dubbing him John Lackland. When John made me his chancellor, Avisa and I spent a lot of time together.”

“Aren’t you risking your neck by putting horns on John? Christ, you know the Plantagenet temper borders on madness,” Falcon said with concern.

Hugh shrugged his shoulders. “You know what a swine he is—faithless since his wedding night. He’s never here nowadays. They live their own separate lives, thank God. I love her; what can I say?”

“More to the point, what does your wife Beatrice say?” his nephew asked. Beatrice was the daughter of the feudal head and great lord of the east, William de Warenne.

Hugh said defensively, “I’m a damned good husband to Beatrice. She’s a happy woman and I have a great deal of affection for her, but this is different. I still dream that someday, somehow, Avisa and I will marry. There, I’ve said it, and don’t let it go any further unless you want to lose a testicle.” He shook his head. “God alone knows why we love one woman above all others. You yourself have chosen Salisbury’s love child when you could have had a legitimate heiress.”

Falcon grinned, then sobered. “Hugh, what if it comes about that John
is
crowned king?”

Hugh poured Falcon a hefty goblet of wine and shook his head. “I’ve always been a Plantagenet man. I almost worshipped King Henry, as I know you did when you were a boy. Then after his death it seemed natural to serve Richard. It’s been almost a decade … where have the years gone? I don’t want John as my king any more than the next man does. I know too many of his faults—I know more than I should, loving Avisa, but I’m still a Plantagenet man. When it boils right down to it, I’d far rather have John as my friend than my enemy.”

Falcon drained his wine cup and said, “Well, the Plantagenets and the de Burghs have a lot in common. For a century we’ve been addicted to power. We’ve fought for it, blackmailed for it, betrayed for it, risked all for it, and we’ve never been able to get enough.”

“Amen,” said Hugh, setting down his cup.

Falcon said, “I’d better see how the boy fares, although from what Salisbury tells me Dame Winwood is an expert at medicine.”

“You trust her medicine but not her magic, is that it?” Hugh laughed.

Before he ascended the stairs Falcon said, “I trust neither, but let’s put it this way: I don’t believe her curses could kill me; her poisons could.”

David lay prone upon the bed, naked to the waist. His wound had been cleansed, poulticed, and bound. Jasmine sat at his bedside, holding his hand.

As de Burgh bent his head to enter through the doorway his eyes took in the tender scene. She hadn’t even taken the time to change her travel-stained gown before she had rushed to the boy’s side. His crystal gaze swept over her. “Seek your own chamber, mistress,” he ordered
quietly. “You will wish to improve your appearance before you dine with your future queen, I am sure.”

Stung by his criticism, Jasmine gave Falcon a look that almost scorched his skin before she swept past him. Only the knowledge that David was on the way to recovery kept her from refusing to leave his side.

When Jasmine saw her reflection in the polished silver mirror in her chamber, she realized de Burgh’s criticism was deserved. Perversely, hot hatred for him welled up in her. She purposely chose the loveliest gown she had brought. It was a deep peony-colored velvet. She was brushing her long, pale-gold hair when de Burgh entered the room with only a pretense at a knock. Avisa had placed her in the room, saying “Every woman should have a pink bedchamber … it’s like being in the heart of a rose.”

Jasmine made such a stunning picture that for a moment his thoughts scattered and he felt his heart skip a beat. Then he recalled the earlier scene and demanded, “What is between you and this David?”

“Nothing!” she flung vehemently, “Since he is a man. I
hate
men.”

“What’s wrong with men?” Falcon asked, surprised at the vehemence.

Her chin went up and she dug both fists into her bright-pink girdle. “The word men begins with ’me’ to start with. All men are totally selfish. I’ve had a thorough education in the ways of men.” She said the word with loathing.

Bemused, he asked, “What do you know of men?”

“I know they are hard to please and easy to displease,” she flung at him.

“What else?” he asked in a warning tone that she completely ignored.

“I know that the last one wants to be the first one and the first one wants to be the last one.”

He was angry
that
she had learned of sexual matters from Estelle.

“Go on,” he said in quietly menacing tones.

“I have been warned about the devastating attraction of the ’lurking bastard’ in men,” she finished triumphantly.

He took her by the elbows.

“Let me go,” she said furiously.

“Never,” he vowed.

His nearness made her conscious of every pulse of her blood. The kiss was an age in coming. It started as a slow lazy thing with all the time in the world, then it strengthened until her slim body was crushed against his. She knew that he was taking, not giving. The kiss was so ruthlessly lustful it forced her to yield to his masculinity. When he let her go abruptly, she gasped for breath and staggered a little on weakened legs.

He had wanted to kiss her for so long, he had no idea what had kept him in check. Now that he’d had a taste of her, however, it wasn’t nearly enough. He was in a reckless enough mood to see how far he could go. He took her chin in his hand and lifted her face to him again. Before his lips touched hers he stopped and said, “Every time you speak to me, mistress, you dare my manhood.” He emphasized this last word by brushing it against her to show her how rock-hard he was. “That kiss was to warn you what will happen if you persist.”

With the taste of him on her mouth and the feel of him against her soft belly, she could not disguise the fear she felt. This close she could not take her eyes from the wound she had inflicted upon him and they became liquid with apprehension. He relented a little. “Compose yourself and I’ll escort you to dinner.”

“I’ll not dine with you,” she stated.

The muscle in his jaw flexed. The moment he’d relented an inch, she had taken a mile. One hand slipped
about her waist while the fingers of his other hand traced the neckline of her gown and began to stray toward her tempting breasts. “Is this your way of suggesting we retire for the night? Certainly it is the first time we have had a chance to be alone together. I too think we should use this night to become more intimately acquainted.” His lips brushed the silken flesh where his fingers had played.

Her mouth went dry. He was deliberately misunderstanding her words. Now she wanted nothing more than to have him escort her to dinner. “I’m hungry,” she said pointedly.

“But not for food,” he whispered huskily, brushing the pale golden tendrils back from her temples and searching her eyes for a sign of awakening desire. He saw only stubborn resistance. He removed his doublet and stretched out upon the bed. “If we are ensconsed for the night, we might as well make ourselves comfortable. My boots, Jasmine,” he ordered casually.

“You ill-mannered lout!” She choked. “Remove yourself from my bed and remove yourself from my chamber. You know we are expected downstairs. Avisa is preparing a special dinner. I have more manners than to flout her gracious hospitality.” Jasmine grasped at straws. “If I don’t go down immediately I’m certain Avisa will come to fetch me.”

He chuckled. “Outraged innocence … I must admit you do that very well. Jasmine, you know as well as I that if we don’t show up for dinner they will exchange winks and realize I have taken you up on your invitation to bed you.”

“My invitation?” Further words failed her.

He was enjoying her discomfort immensely. He held out an inviting hand. “Why don’t you remove that lovely gown before it gets ruined and join me on the bed, love?”

Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. “De Burgh,
you are more wicked than the Devil. I swear you will plague me to death!”

He laughed outright. “Jasmine, for God’s sake, unbend a little. Do you begrudge me a little teasing, a little fun?” He sat up and pulled her into his lap. She was furious to be handled so. He kissed the frown between her brows, then he kissed the tip of her nose and said quietly, “If you keep running off someone else will pluck the delicious fruit that is mine. My better judgment tells me to experience the joy of you now. After all, you are mine, we are betrothed, and none will really expect a bridegroom so hot to cool his blood until after the wedding.”

She paled at his words and pulled herself from his lap on shaky legs. “My lord, I promise to be courteous and civil to you if you will escort me to dinner.” Her lashes brushed her cheeks, hiding her defiance. “I know you are a most valiant knight who does not take his vows lightly. I am defenseless against you and beg you will be honorable toward me and wait for the wedding.” She raised her lashes to peep at him and gauge the effect of her words.

“You are a little witch”—he smiled ruefully—“who knows how to wrap a man about your fingers!”

She held out his doublet to him and the corners of her mouth turned up prettily. “Come, you may escort me to dinner, my lord.”

They dined intimately in a small room that personified Avisa’s cultured taste. The furnishings were elegant rather than massive, the table was decorated with flowers, and they drank from Venetian glass. The quality of the food took precedence over the quantity, and Jasmine realized it was the first time she had ever been exposed to intelligent dinner conversation between men and women.

Her ignorance of history, politics, and the world at large was abysmal so she only listened and absorbed everything she saw and heard.

Hubert looked at Avisa and said, “So, there is a definite
possibility that you will become the Queen of England.”

Avisa made a little moue with her lips. “When they married me to John he received all my Gloucester lands, holdings, men, and monies. Combining everything I owned in Wales and England, it made him the richest peer in the realm. I, on the other hand, received nothing; not kindness, not fidelity, not even a child. Perhaps finally I am about to receive my reward.” Avisa glanced at Estelle as if for confirmation.

After a moment’s concentration Estelle said,
“Prince
John’s outstanding qualities were vanity, temper, lust, and greed.
King
John’s outstanding qualities will be vanity, temper, lust, and greed. As before; so again. He will bring you unhappiness and grief.”

Avisa smiled to lighten the mood. “We were ever a mismatched couple. I don’t believe he ever forgave me for being taller than he.”

Falcon said, “He was truly the runt of the litter. King Henry’s other sons were as tall and broad as himself, and yet for all his shortcomings, John was always Henry’s favorite.”

Hubert spoke up. “Henry, now there was a man. He was the best king England will see in a century! After the anarchy and civil war of Stephen’s reign, Henry strived for one law, one government, and national unity for thirty-five years. Do you realize that before Henry if you were charged with a crime you were given a trial of ordeal, or compurgation, or the outcome was decided by wager or battle?”

“Compurgation?” Avisa asked curiously.

Falcon supplied, “To purge or purify.”

Hubert continued. “I know it was before your time, but really it was not so very long ago the law was settled by hocus-pocus.” The three women exchanged amused glances that Hugh had come close to insulting Estelle and
Jasmine, but he didn’t notice as he warmed to his subject of the late King Henry. “English law is now based on trial by jury of twelve men of high morals within the community,” Hugh said with satisfaction.