The Falcon and the Flower (44 page)

His hands immediately loosened the silver ribbons, and one impatient hand slid down inside the neckline and went round down her back until it rested warmly at the base of her spine. Then he forced her body against his. As his demanding mouth covered hers she could feel him rising hard against her. His lips brushed twice across hers before he used the tip of his tongue to trace the outline of her mouth, sending a shocking trail of fire deep down inside her. Her hatred for him was hot. Then suddenly, clearly she realized she didn’t have to be in love to feel the fire.

He held her captive against him while his strong, insistent arousal throbbed against the curve of her stomach.
Then he sat back on his heels and quickly took the pink gown off over her head. She protested repeatedly, but he was deaf to her pleas. Somehow she felt if she could keep her shift on it would protect her from his onslaught, but he seemed to have a dozen hands intent on plucking her naked. When she was nude, he clasped her hands above her head to prevent her clawing him and looked down at her hungrily. She lay like silken enchantment upon the furs, the fire highlighting her breasts and belly. He dipped his head to place a kiss deep within each armpit. He had done it before yet still she blushed deeply at the intimacy of such an act. He freed his shaft from the constriction of the tight cloth that covered him, and his magnificent erection sprang up with a will of its own. He poised over her, breathing harshly. Whenever he lay with her it was like slow torture. His mind and his body were at war with themselves. His flesh was fiercely demanding, his blood sang with delirious excitement, but always just beyond the ragged edges of his lust, his mind told him he wanted more.

The ultimate, of course, would be if Jasmine loved him, but he was a practical man and he would settle for much less than love. All he asked was that she desire him … no, even less than that. He would be over the moon if he could pleasure her—make her orgasmic. He lowered his body over hers and reached down to guide his shaft with trembling hands. His fingers forced her open further to accommodate his size. Because he took her so seldom, he could not control his peaking passion, then he surged upward pouring a throbbing, white-hot orgasm into her.

Jasmine felt panic rise within her, for before God what he was doing to her made her feel like nothing else mattered but his body inside hers. And she didn’t even love him! Yes, you do, a voice said inside her head. “No, I don’t !” she screamed the denial aloud and looked straight
into the eyes of Morganna, who had entered his chamber without knocking.

The scene spread out before Morganna was like a knife twisting in her guts. Hatred exploded inside her brain as she saw that Falcon’s need for his wife had been so great, so urgent he hadn’t taken the time to disrobe.

When de Burgh realized the appalling intrusion he commanded harshly, “Get out!”

Blinded by hatred, Morganna fled.

“I’m sorry, Jasmine darling,” he soothed softly.

“Don’t apologize,” she said breathlessly, “I’m glad she saw you making love to me.” There was a note of triumph in her voice that Falcon found disconcerting. He looked down at her in amazement. He could see the pearl drops of his sperm on the inside of her thighs and he was hard again instantly, orgasmic but nowhere near sated.

She saw his intent and tried to rise. She got only to her knees before he pressed her to him with powerful arms.

“Not again!” she cried.

“Yes again,” he insisted urgently.

“It’s too soon,” she protested.

“It’s never too soon, I know strokes to soothe you, Jassy.”

She pulled from him with blazing eyes. “Your sensual excesses are inexcusable! Have you forgotten I’m with child?”

“If that bitch hadn’t interrupted me when she did … I had you one stroke from climax!”

“That bitch walking in was the only part I enjoyed,” she spat cruelly. It was suddenly too much for Jasmine. She began to sob and shake. In truth he had brought her to climax, and her first release was so great the tears came flooding. She would never let him know what he had done to her … and she would make sure she controlled her betraying, treacherous body in future.

That night Mountain Ash was raided. The invaders took sheep, cattle, fodder, and valuable horses. The thatched huts of the villagers that had sprung up outside the castle walls were set ablaze as a diversionary tactic to effect a clean getaway. Fire in the night was a terrifying experience, as the raiders well knew. In the blackness the flames crackled and roared, enjoying their wicked orgy of destruction.

The villagers were brought into the castle, and the next day was spent rebuilding their huts for them. Estelle and Jasmine were busy tending burns and comforting the children. Falcon de Burgh bided his time. He would be very sure of his target before he struck back. Once he did, he would make certain Mountain Ash was never raided again, for when the Welsh got inside a castle they killed, looted, and raped like wild beasts.

In the hall at supper his eyes sought out Morganna. She felt his eyes on her immediately and smiled with satisfaction. The moment he finished eating he excused himself to Jasmine and left the hall. Morganna followed him to his chamber, as he knew she would. He was stripped to the waist when he opened the door and drew her inside.

She could not keep her hands from him as she hoped to arouse him to untold heights. He undressed her quickly and lifted her to the bed, but then his caresses slowed in a tortuous, maddening, drawn-out session of foreplay that she neither wanted nor needed. In an amazingly short time she was mindless, begging him for the fulfillment she knew only he could give her.

Falcon, his hot mouth against her breast, said, “Where does Llewellyn store his treasure?”

“Mmmm … treasure?” she murmured thickly.

“Which castle houses what he has stolen from English castles?” He suspected she had been in communication with Llewellyn, as she rode out often through the mountains.

She didn’t care if she betrayed Llewellyn to this man. She would do anything for him. All he had ever had to do was ask.

Her fingers closed about his swollen member. “Please, please.” She rubbed and writhed against his marblelike thigh. Through the red haze of passion she sought a name. “Penderyn.” She gasped.

He blew his warm breath over a distended nipple. “No, Morganna, that is where he stays in winter, where he launched the raid from. Where has he hidden his treasure … gold … jewels?”

“Ohhh … Brecon … now, please!”

Brecon! He might have guessed. It was a mountain fortress where at least three rivers joined to prevent attacks.

“Falcon …” she beseeched. He gave her thirty seconds of his attention. He manipulated her briskly with his hand to give her release, then quit the bed. Already he was miles away from her, his quick mind totally absorbed with a plan of revenge against Llewellyn. Though the hour was late, he did not hesitate to go down and rouse Gervase and Montgomery from their beds. He wanted to set his plan before them to see if they could pick any holes in it.

Morganna fell asleep in his bed, and it was there that Jasmine discovered her the next morning. She had wanted to tell Falcon that she would have her household servants move the villagers back into their rebuilt huts and supply them with food and blankets. When she saw
the lithe brown form of Morganna curled up in his bed, her heart stopped. Tears immediately filled her eyes and she ran blindly down the tower steps and out into the cold morning, fighting a great wave of nausea. She leaned against the bailey wall and vomited, but somehow instead of making her feel better, it made her feel worse. She knew she was going to faint and realized how dangerous it would be to lie long in the freezing cold without a cloak. Blindly she reached out her hand then crumpled beside the wall.

Tam strode swiftly toward her and scooped the small, limp form into his arms. He swept into the hall and came face to face with de Burgh. “My lady is ill.”

Falcon was startled to hear the protective tone the young knight used as he called her
his
lady, but he was so concerned over Jasmine that he let it pass. “Bring her upstairs,” Falcon directed, and the two men swiftly climbed the tower steps. Tam naturally carried her into de Burgh’s chamber. By this time Jasmine had opened her eyes and begun to protest weakly, “No, please.”

Tam stopped only two long strides into the room and Falcon almost crashed into him. Tam took in the shameful scene of the naked girl in the bed and turned accusing eyes on de Burgh.

Jasmine turned her face into Tam’s broad chest and whispered, “Please take me upstairs.”

Falcon was racked with worry, anger, and guilt. He said shortly, “I’ll get Estelle.”

Morganna slipped on her tunic and sneaked away with excitement bubbling inside her. If Jasmine miscarried it would save her the trouble of destroying the child.

Estelle accompanied Falcon to the tower room, both deeply concerned. However, they were vastly relieved to see Jasmine sitting up in bed looking ethereal because of her slight pallor but unbelievably beautiful. Tam’s doublet sported a pink and silver ribbon, and Falcon experienced
a stab of jealousy as he realized Jasmine had given it to the young knight to wear as a favor. Then his common sense told him a knight who wore the ridiculously feminine colors of pink and silver would be a laughingstock. Tam averted his eyes from de Burgh and excused himself.

Estelle went to the bed and asked anxiously, “Are you bleeding?”

“No, of course not. Don’t worry so, Estelle, I’ll be perfectly all right. And please don’t alert Big Meg or she’ll keep me here for a week.”

“I’ll get you some chamomile and mint for the nausea,” said Estelle, hurrying off to her stillroom.

Falcon sat down carefully on the edge of the bed. “Jasmine, if I am the cause of this I must ask your forgiveness.”

Her best weapon she decided was indifference. “You? How could anything you do affect me?” she said lightly. “This is simply one of the small joys of pregnancy.”

“I’m going to be away from Mountain Ash for a few days, but naturally I won’t leave until I see you are recovered.”

She knew immediately he was riding out in retaliation for the raid and icy fingers of fear crept around her heart. She might have clung to him and begged him to stay if she hadn’t found Morganna in his bed. Instead she said indifferently. “Don’t alter your plans on my account. I shall be up and about in an hour.”

“I’m not taking all the men, I’ll leave you well guarded,” he reassured her.

She turned amethyst eyes upon him. “So long as you leave Tam, I’ll feel perfectly safe,” she said with the innocence of an asp.

He bit back a very nasty word, yet he was relieved. If she felt well enough to taunt him she couldn’t be too ill. Nevertheless, he postponed leaving for one more day.
That night in the hall he was amused to see at least fifty of his knights sporting pink and silver ribbons. He also found himself on the receiving end of quite a few disapproving glances.

Later he dreamed he had to comfort and reassure a tearful Jasmine who was terrified for his safety. He held her against his heart and stroked her to sleep as the terror of losing him slowly melted away with his kisses. When he awoke a glum feeling descended upon him that Jasmine was indifferent as to whether he would make her a widow. However, his spirits lifted when he saw that she seemed perfectly recovered. Soon the hour drew near when he and forty of his best would ride through the night to plunder Brecon.

He would have been very gratified to know that Jasmine watched him leave through the narrow tower window. His men were laughing boisterously, jousting at one another with rough hands. The cold wind whipped their cloaks about them as they clattered over the stones of the bailey and through the gates. She saw Falcon lift his dark head toward her tower, his great destrier reared up, its forelegs pawing the wind, before he wheeled away from the castle. She thought man and beast were perfectly matched with the same strength and violence that was beautiful to watch. She shuddered, already lonely for him. How many times down the years to come would she stand so and watch him go directly into danger?

It took de Burgh two full weeks, for the mountain passes were treacherous and once they reached Brecon they had to build siege engines on the spot with their great axes. He knew that in the middle of winter the fortress would be manned by only a few good fighting men. Most of Llewellyn’s army was kept close to the border of England where they could profit from quick raids on wealthy English castles. Before de Burgh quit Brecon he had two full chests of gold and a cache of
precious jewels. But of more importance to him, he left not one man alive nor one wall of Brecon intact. His mangonels and trenchbuts had battered down the palisade and the curtain wall, and left gaping holes in the tower. Every outbuilding was burned to the ground. He took a grim satisfaction in the methodical destruction, which would never have happened if the Welsh hadn’t struck first.

Jasmine and Estelle had consulted the crystal ball after carefully performing the magic ritual, and they had seen clearly that de Burgh would overcome all danger and come away with treasure enough to build half a dozen castles if he so desired.

Morganna was devastated to see Jasmine up so quickly from her sickbed because it meant she must still be carrying the child. She was actually singing and the bloom in her cheeks made her look stronger, healthier, and happier than she had ever been. Morganna decided to put an end to all that. She asked Estelle for an abortificant for herself. Naturally Estelle was only too willing to rid the Welsh girl of de Burgh’s bastard.

Morganna waited until she saw Jasmine go to the kitchens as she did every day now, then took out the vial of rue, which she intended to pour into the mead Jasmine always drank. She stole up to Jasmine’s tower room, terrified lest she be discovered. Once she thought she heard the padding of soft footsteps so she quickly took the stopper from the vial and reached for the mead. Suddenly she screamed as she was pounced on from behind and rolled to the floor. For a moment terror gripped her as she stared up into the amber eyes of a great mountain lion. She reached for her knife, but found her leather sheath empty. Quickly she rolled away from the cat toward the door, the spilled vial forgotten in her panic to get away. Later as she examined the two deep horizontal claw
marks across her bare breast, she knew they would probably leave a scar. With great cunning, she found her knife and scratched a vertical cut to join the others, forming a perfect letter F for Falcon.