The Falcon and the Flower (16 page)

His eyes held hers as he wondered if she had singled out his man because she was attracted to him. He answered somewhat guardedly, “I can see how Sir Rolf would appeal to a woman.”

“So can I,” said Jasmine, teasing him.

His brows drew together and he deliberately chose the ugly knight sitting next to Estelle. “Rupert there might be the best choice.”

Jasmine’s eyes danced with amusement as she went on to explain her choice. “I think with a little encouragement on your part Sir Rolf would take to wife the young widow he is so hot for. That way you would not only get a good castellan, but I would get a good chatelaine for Hagthorn in my absence.”

His brow cleared and he shot her a guilty grin that acknowledged he had been jealous. “Thank you for your advice, chérie. You are most perceptive.”

“The people here are very grateful that you and your knights have treated them kindly.”

“We are civilized, my lady, in spite of your misgivings about me,” he said, smiling. “I am pleased you have been
listening to them. You know the old saying, The castle that will parley and the woman who will listen—surrender.” He took possession of her hand, his strong fingers curling around hers.

She stiffened immediately, withdrew her hand, and turned to ice. “Please don’t touch me, it disturbs me.”

He laughed and mocked, “That is no way to hold a man off, telling him his nearness disturbs you. Rather it would make him come much closer.”

“I never intend to surrender, Falcon de Burgh. You will have to conquer me.”

“I have already killed for you,” he said, looking intensely into her eyes. “I intend to have you at any cost.”

She was the first to lower her gaze. “I am tired. Leave me be, de Burgh.”

He arose from the table, stretched, and said mockingly, “Ah, chérie, would you like me to carry you to bed?”

She stood so quickly her chair almost fell backward. “Good night!” she said, her voice dripping with ice.

His hand shot out to take her wrist and hold her beside him. He murmured, “Lady, you will not rush from my side with contempt before everyone in the hall. You will act like a lady,
my
lady, or I will warm your backside here and now. They seemed to enjoy the entertainment with their meal. Would you like to be the encore?”

She stopped dead in her tracks and grew pale. She wanted to throw the contents of her goblet into his face, but dared not. He was far too reckless and thoroughly capable, even willing, to carry out any threat he made.

“Smile at me,” he ordered.

Slowly, stiffly, she complied, and he escorted her from the dais with a possessive hand at the small of her back. At her door he left her with a parting shot. “Sorry I cannot come in, but I have an assignation with another.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again in frustrated
fury. She flung into her chamber and slammed the door. “I could kill him!” she said through her teeth.

“Admit the truth and shame the Devil,” said Estelle. “You enjoy sparring with him.”

“I’d enjoy it better if I ever got the last bloody word!” she shouted, taking off her shoes and flinging them across the chamber.

Falcon had purposely misled her about the gender of the one he had an assignation with. In actuality, it was with his knights, to tie up the ends of the business of running Hagthorn.

Rolf spoke up quickly. “I tracked down the priest. He had been hiding in the village with one of the serf’s families since de Belamé took over eighteen months ago.”

“Good. See that he’s moved into the castle quickly and begins his duties immediately. We want to restore the moral tone of Hagthorn as quickly as possible,” replied de Burgh. “Which brings me to another point. Rolf, if you fancy the young widow you are bedding you can wed her and become castellan here. But if you would rather escape her toils you may return with me. The choice is yours.”

Sir Rolf spoke up eagerly. “I’ll stay!”

“Good. I’ll also leave Rupert and Andre here and take you other two back with me. Tomorrow I want you to begin recruiting men-at-arms from Hagthorn and training them in earnest. I may have need of them shortly. William of Salisbury has been made head of the armies and intends to place five hundred mercenaries in my command. No doubt they’ll require a deal of training also before they measure up to my standards.”

Rupert announced, “We hanged three cohorts of de Belamé. The people came forward and accused them of such horrendous crimes, we had no choice, but there are others whose fate we left up to you. One of them, the old
castellan, swears he has information with which he will be able to buy his life from you.”

“Did you find de Belamé’s coffers?” asked de Burgh.

“We looked high and low but found nothing,” replied Rolf.

“Then the old castellan must know where the monies are hidden. I have legal jurisdiction to hold a baron’s court tomorrow. I’ll decide everything there. I bid you good night.” He winked at Rolf. “I wish you joy of her.”

Jasmine awoke eager for the day’s events. She summoned every servant in the castle to attend her in the hall. Clad in her richest gown and bolstered by Dame Estelle and the crystal ball, she climbed the dais to hold sway. She liked the feeling it gave her. Every eye was riveted upon her, every ear pricked to catch her words. As the cook related the event to her husband later that night, she said, “The room was so quiet, you could have heard a cockroach fart!”

Jasmine, after a cursory glance into the crystal ball, held up her hands and said, “I see a wedding celebration soon. The lady Joan will marry one of my future husband’s knights and you will take your directions from her in my absence.”

Estelle whispered, “Are you guessing?”

Jasmine’s eyes sparkled. “You taught me one of the strongest tools of witchcraft is the power of suggestion. I have sown the magic seed.” She raised her voice. “Let us proceed to the first dispute.”

Two enormously fat women stood before her, their faces bright red from the strength of the emotions involved. They were head cooks by profession and, as custom dictated, their bulk attested to the quality of their culinary ability. The first one spoke up. “My lady, I was head cook of Hagthorn before the evil de Belamé came here and set
her
up in the job.” She felt confident that she
would be restored, as practically every other server of the dreaded de Belamé had already been deposed by the new knights.

Jasmine turned her attention to the other fat woman to hear what she would say. “I do my job well, my lady. I am a better cook than her. In fact, I could cook better than her stood on my head with my hands tied behind my back!”

Jasmine saw the graphic picture she painted and could not conceal a peal of merriment at so fat a woman in so ridiculous a position. “The meal we had last night was excellent,” decided Jasmine. “I see no need to replace the present head cook.”

At her words, one red face beamed, the other looked as if it would burst. Jasmine added quickly, “I have, however, a most important post to be filled and feel you are an excellent candidate for the position.” She inclined her head toward Estelle. “Dame Winwood knows the magical properties of all plants. Go to the stillroom with her now and she will instruct you in herbal medicine so that you will be able to minister to the health and welfare of all at Hagthorn.” She had said the words that enabled the second red face to beam.

Jasmine passed judgment on all the other disputes of the castle servants, most of which dealt with the pecking order. When all was decided, she held up her hands again for silence. “Which of you women are good seamstresses?” she asked. Half a dozen stepped forward and then four others hesitantly held up their hands. “I have noticed that all who serve at Hagthorn would benefit from new clothes.” There was a murmur of delight as she continued. “I should like all those who serve in the hall to wear a livery in a cheerful color, perhaps yellow or green, definitely not brown.” She had gotten the idea of livery from the Countess of Gloucester, whose servants were all uniformed. “Anyone who has a messy job to
perform shall receive a smock as well as a new outfit of clothes.” She smiled at them knowing she had won their hearts. She decided that at the royal court she would assist the little queen to make decisions. Jasmine was acquiring a taste for power.

That night the meal served surpassed the one the night before, and at table Jasmine told Falcon of her day’s decisions. Somewhat hesitantly she added that she had promised all the castle servants new clothing.

He silently appraised her and when she thought he was about to refuse the money to purchase the cloth, her stubborn chin went up, her eyes flashed, and she said, “De Burgh, you are a s—”

He leaned close and murmured a warning, “Make your words soft and sweet, chérie, in case you have to eat them.”

“… you can be a generous and understanding lord when you choose. I hope you will not disappoint these people.”

He grinned at her, knowing she would like nothing better than to slap him. He said quietly, “It’s a good thing I discovered a treasure trove of gold last night the way you have squandered my money today. Just think, if I’d allowed you to tempt me into your chamber last night, I might never have uncovered the hoard.”

He was baiting her into a sharp retort, but she was aware of his intent and sighed prettily, “Ah, milord, my loss was your gain.”

His teeth flashed. He was pleased that she joined his game. He bantered, “My gain could be your gain. I also discovered a jewel or two secreted away. One in particular would match your beauty. ’T is a flower of diamonds and sapphires on a fine chain.” He paused and whispered suggestively, “You have a jewel I desire … we could come to some arrangement perhaps.”

Her eyes flashed with silver ice, then she quickly veiled
them, her lashes brushing her cheeks as she murmured, “Ah, Sir Falcon, my jewel is more precious than yours.”

“What if,” he said boldly, “your jewel is a myth like that unicorn you ride? Things are seldom what they appear. You look so pure and virginal and yet I know I spoke to you at a bacchanalia at Stonehenge once.”

Her eyes flew wide. Why was he himself there unless he had been practicing Devil worship? She shivered as a thin thread of hatred ran through her. She put up her chin and said, “I grow tired of being pricked by your words.”

“When I prick you with my weapon your virginity will be proven,” he said mockingly.

She was damned if she would let him have the last word this time. Her wicked juices bubbled over and she said cruelly, “I hope I am barren; I think I would hate your child as much as I hate you.”

The banter and mockery were gone. His hard gaze bored into her, while at the same time his hand crushed down over hers. “Apologize!” he commanded.

She thought he might crush the fragile bones, yet still she was reckless enough to fight him. “I’m sorry, milord … I’m sorry I will hate your child.”

Suddenly she felt herself swung up into his arms like a piece of Viking booty. He strode from the hall, leaving the onlookers agog with their mouths open. Tonight he did not stop at the chamber door, but swung inside and slammed the door loudly to warn Estelle he wanted no interference.

He dropped her onto the bed. “Your backside needs warming. A damned good thrashing followed by a good bedding will go a long way to curbing your impudent tongue.” He sat down quickly beside her on the bed and dragged her facedown across his hard thighs. He pulled up her dress and shift, yanked down her drawers, and
brought his hand down in a stinging slap on her bare flesh.

Jasmine cried out, but he brought his hand down again a second time. She was very frightened. She knew he hadn’t the faintest notion of how much the slaps had hurt her. She twisted over in his lap and flung her arms about his neck. “No please, I beg you, don’t beat me, milord. ’T was only a game to see who could make the crudest remark.”

“You are very deceiving, Jasmine. You appear to be soft and sweet as an angel, yet your tongue can be as cutting as a sharp sword. You dazzle a man’s eyes and wits with your ethereal beauty, but the moment he is drawn close to your warm glow, you turn to ice and freeze his blood in his veins. Because you are small and pretty you have been used to having all your own way. Well, I see through your lovely façade. … I know you are headstrong as ten men. You are all sweetness and light so long as you are getting all your own way, but the moment someone comes along with a stronger will than yours, you turn mean as a spoiled child who refuses to play anymore.”

“You paint a very flawed picture of me, sir. Too bad you haven’t as clear a picture of yourself!” she said boldly, removing herself from his lap. “Why, you are more used to having your own way than I am. Because you have never encountered another who was stronger or more dominant than yourself, you overrule everyone. Because you are a natural leader of men and because every slut who sets eyes on your physique falls on her back for you, you think you have the God-given right to take me and bend me into anything you desire.”

He appraised her through narrowed eyes. Her breasts rose and fell temptingly with her agitation. His desire could not be held in check much longer. “When we are wed, Jasmine, I will be your lord and master and I will
have the God-given right to take you and bend you into anything I desire.”

Her anger flared at his ruthless male attitude. “Some women may enjoy being treated like dirt, but I am not one of them. ’T is a strange wooing where you try to win my affections by comparing me to a spoiled child each time we meet.”

“A better analogy would be a spirited, unbroken filly. The trick will be to tame you without breaking your spirit.”

She gave a little shriek. “Now I’m a filly! You’ll have me eating out of your hand in no time.”

He pulled her hard against him, anger and lust flaring up until he was crazed with the desire to make her submit to him. His hands stroked down her back to the base of her spine, then very deliberately he took hold of her buttocks and rubbed her body against his hard, pulsing erection. His hot mouth moved up her throat. “Jassy, yield to me!” His mouth was on hers, forcing his entrance between her soft pink lips. As his tongue plunged into her, she knew his shaft would soon be ravishing her other soft pink lips. Desperately she reached down and put her hand over his arousal to shield her mons from its onslaught. As he felt her hand enclose him, he took in a ragged breath and groaned aloud with pure pleasure. The moment his hands slackened she pulled from him and ran across the chamber.