The Falcon and the Flower Part 16

De Burgh ground his teeth in mute rage as they handled his betrothed. Jasmine had exchanged one provocative gown for another simply to inflame his temper at least he hoped her defiant action had been done with htm in mind. His dark brows drew together in a frown as he recal ed the man who had scaled wal s for her before dawn. He glared down the hal .

At least one thing was certain, it hadn't been Chester. Though the earl was un- doubtedly strong, his arms and legs were overlong and lanky; he could never be described as lithe as a panther in a mil ion years. Falcon's ears picked up s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation from his own knights, from n.o.bles who had traveled to get here, and from Ralph Murdach, the Sheriff of Nottingham, who was weary from listening to complaints. Al the talk, it seemed, was centered on an outlaw in these parts who had taken over the forests. Men were flocking to him by the hundreds, according to rumor, and even though there was a price on his head, none would turn him in to the king's bailiff. Falcon heard Murdach excusing his inadequacies as sheriff for the tenth time at least.

"My men are outnumbered. I intend to pet.i.tion the king for more men to rid the forests of this scourge."

De Burgh curled his lip in contempt. A few peasants, freemen, and farmers were making a laughingstock of Nottingham.

What the hel would the man do against enemies like the Scots and Welsh, fiendish plunderers, wild and fierce and cruel as mountain cats who came ravaging and burning?

Falcon dismissed the talk of Sherwood's outlaws with disgust.

He shook his head when his knights offered to hazard the dice with him and made his way down to the dais where Jasmine was displaying the beautiful but absurd occult cards she had painted for Isabel a.

Estel e rose from the table antic.i.p.ating difficulties for Jasmine if the queen's layout should be a bad one. De Burgh slipped into her vacated seat between the two widows and shot Chester a warning look cold and hard enough to freeze a man's soul, but now that Isabel a was monopolizing Jasmine, the king and Chester left the dais. Nottingham fol owed like a trained hound. De Burgh realized with a shock that the ladies were very excited over the fascinating, mysterious tarot cards they had heard so much about. Why were women so ridiculous? he mused. What made them so gul ible? They were ready, wil ing, even avid to be deceived. He proved to himself within five minutes that it was so. By dividing his attentions equal y between the widows, he ascertained that each was wil ing to provide him with bedsport this night. Now al he had to do was decide which one he wanted.

Isabel a, drawing as much attention to herself as possible, shuffled the large tarot cards, made her wish, then choose to lay out ten cards. As each was revealed, Jasmine became more dismayed. Though unbelievably accurate, the cards were anything but flattering to the queen. Isabel a would probably have Jasmine executed if she read their true meaning before the a.s.sembled women.

Then her panic receded. She was playing a role. She had already rehea.r.s.ed her att.i.tudes and her lines if the cards were lethal. She glanced down from the dais and saw de Burgh. His gaze was detached and impersonal as if he found nothing to distinguish her from others. She saw the females flanking him and hated them on sight!

Jasmine gave the cards her undivided attention and began her interpretation. To de Burgh's ears her voice was like silvery chimes, clear, pure, elfin. He glanced at the other women and knew he wanted neither. He wanted Jasmine, exactly as she was. d.a.m.n her to hel , the maddening little witch was too exactly the way he would have her.

"The queen of pentacles is your first card and therefore represents you, your majesty," said Jasmine. The card meant a woman who was selfish, exhibitionistic, avaricious, bedecked in jewels, who cared more for luxury than love. The throne she sat upon was covered by symbolic figures of Cupid, ripe fruit, goat heads, and a rabbit, which of course represented sensuality.

"This card simply means a woman who wil have every luxury in life," said Jasmine, which was true enough.

"What does the rabbit mean?" asked Isabel a.

"Al the symbols indicate that you wil be fruitful and bear many beautiful princes and princesses."

Isabel a looked pleased, then pointed to another card, the king of swords, and said, "There is John!"

Indeed it was John personified. A short, very dark man who inflicted verbal and physical abuse on children and women. A mean man, a bul y and a tyrant who abused his position of power.

"Yes, your majesty. The king of swords represents a very dark man in highest office. A military man, as you see by the unsheathed sword."

"What are al the dark clouds gathered about his head?"

asked Isabel a.

"Just decoration," Jasmine lied.

"Why isn't his card beside the one that represents me? Who is coming between us?" Isabel a demanded.

Jasmine was dismayed that it was the high priestess, which she had painted in her own image. The queen could clearly see that Jasmine stood between her and her husband.

Jasmine did not like the implication at al . Not only was she between them, but the queen's hand had laid her card below the queen and king, and this clearly meant that they intended to step on her.

"What is the meaning of that card?" Isabel a demanded.

"Subconscious knowledge, intuition, inspiration, occult wisdom, hidden mysteries, inner resources, the power of the subconscious mind to effect change and healing in one's own life, the ability to get to one's own inner center and function as a creative, life-affirming human being," Jasmine interpreted truthful y.

Isabel a, consumed by thoughts of herself, thought the card referred to her, and she looked even happier. Next to the card representing John, the queen had placed the Devil. Jasmine thought perhaps she could get away with describing the card and its symbolism without directly connecting it to the King. Of course everyone in the room would think it most apt.

"This horned Devil with batlike wings sits on a throne.

Chained before him are a naked man and woman. This card represents evil. Hedonism is not freedom to do whatever one wants, but slavery to one's desires. This card means self- indulgence, sensuality without sense, animal ike conduct. It means someone practicing malevolent magic, satanic or Devil wors.h.i.+p."

"Whatever does that card have to do with me?" demanded Isabel a, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

Jasmine soothed, "The card is simply a warning to eliminate undesirable elements and not be chained by materialistic values." Al the women in the room exchanged meaningful glances. They knew the card had hit home about the royal couple.

"The three of cups reversed, and the three of swords next to the Lovers is a most unusual layout," said Jasmine. "The three of cups represents a bride, a happy fulfil ing card denoting joy in antic.i.p.ation of marriage, but reversed and next to the three of swords it means a broken betrothal, interference of a third party who imposes himself between the lovers to break up a romance." Uppermost in Jasmine's mind was the fact that Isabel a had been betrothed to Hugh of Lusignan and that King John had broken her betrothal and stolen her from Hugh.

Isabel a, however, was thinking along very different lines. She knew Jasmine was betrothed to Falcon de Burgh and the cards were foretel ing that she would be the third party who would break up their romance. What great fun. Such a diversion! And the girl had predicted it herself!

"Next to the lovers is the moon." Then Jasmine hesitated.

"Oh, I know . . . that must mean honeymoon," offered Isabel a, showing her cleverness.

Jasmine grasped at the straw thrown to her. "Yes, how wise you are," she lied.

The moon had a crab, a dog, and a wolf baying beneath it. It warned Jasmine that she had secret enemies who would conceal something vital from her. There would be underhanded deals made and she would be surrounded by deception. Jasmine bit her tongue as she almost blurted that moon meant Lunatic, from the Latin word Luna. Now Jasmine realized this reading touched her as wel as the queen.

Jasmine found this woman and her court distasteful. The very air was fil ed with mists of dread and lurking undeniable evil.

Perhaps she could influence Isabel a to change things for the better. She recal ed tales told her of the old queen's court, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. She recal ed the very things that had awakened her desire to become a lady of the court.

The next two cards were disastrous: the ace of swords and the tower. The ace was a death card, which warned to expect the worst. It meant interference in one's plans, being blocked and thwarted, fearful antic.i.p.ation, sadness and woe. Coupled with the moon it meant underhanded activity, using deception and trickery. Jasmine took a deep breath and plunged in. "The ace of swords is a very powerful card. It shows that the person can influence a great many people, as did King John's mother when she was queen. Her court of love became renowned. It was always fil ed with color, laughter, and music. Open fust was distasteful. Men did not approach a lady of the court in brutal fas.h.i.+on. Men were encouraged to treat women as ladies. They used flattery, wit, and elegance. It encouraged young men to sigh over other men's wives, and it was fine for the ladies to smile kindly upon them, but it was most innocent and harmless. The court encouraged musicians, poets, and the arts. The court had an ambience of romance and the hal rang with the tales1 of great love affairs, such as Tristram and Isolde, and Lancelot and Guinevere. Pages, knights, and minstrels fought for the honor to serve the ladies at table." When Jasmine glanced at the queen, she realized her words had had the wrong effect.

Isabel a did not like to be compared with Eleanor of Aquitaine and come up lacking. The queen looked down at the last horrific card the tower and swept it from the table. "I tire of this game," she said petulantly.

Jasmine looked from the dais to where de Burgh had been sitting but the table was empty. The queen, her mind already busy with a wicked plot, said cruel y, "Young widows are formidable compet.i.tion with their knowledge of what men like best. Two b.i.t.c.hes fighting over one bone." Isabel a laughed at her own crudity. "Who knows, perhaps the bone is big enough to satisfy both."

Jasmine was seething inside. Whenever she had to spend time close to Isabel a her nerve endings screamed their protest, and then to add insult to injury, the man who was supposed to be betrothed to her had offered her a public insult. Wel , if he thought he could ride roughshod over her, he was sadly mistaken. She'd go to his tent this minute and catch him in the act. She'd make a scene that would disrupt the entire camp and castle. She had warned him once that he'd rue her. Wel , tonight was the night! She'd sul y his name and tel him flatly that by his venal, carnal indulgences he had broken their betrothal. She'd shatter his composure into a thousand pieces. Tonight would finish it!

Fearless as a tigress, she reached up to s.n.a.t.c.h a torch from its wal bracket as she left the castle and stalked through the bailey toward the meadow where the scarlet silk pavil ion stood. As she neared the tent she could see the shadows of the couple inside. "Don't do this thing," whispered her better self; but her worse self threw al caution to the wind and plunged in.

Chapter 18.

De Burgh and Gervase were talking seriously. Falcon looked up startled as Jasmine flew through the entrance as if the hounds of hel were nipping at her heels. Alarmed, he asked, "What's amiss, sweetheart?"

She blinked stupidly, then stammered, "N-nothing!" For once she was truly at a loss. She swal owed the accusations she had been about to scream and they almost choked her.

Suddenly he knew exactly why she was there. She had seen him leave with the women and had come to make a scene.

Keeping his face straight, he came to her, took the torch from her hand and gave it to Gervase, then whispered, "Sweetheart, you came to share my bed again." The emphasis on the last word made her blush and Gervase flush.

"I did no such thing!" she denied hotly.

"Gervase wil tel no one you came to me in your nightrail," he cooed.

"Nightrail? Nightrail?" she parroted.

"Wel , that's what this transparent thing is, surely?" he asked smoothly, lifting the thin white silk with his strong fingers.

Gervase fled the tent before the approaching storm erupted.

"Under ordinary circ.u.mstances I'd be happy to accommodate you, my love, but I must inform my men that the stag hunt tomorrow has been changed to a manhunt."

"You conceited, vain, insufferable lout, you should have been drowned at birth!" As his words penetrated, a cold fear touched her. "Manhunt?" she whispered.

He said with contempt, "The king's sick idea of sport.

Tomorrow we rid the forest of outlaws."

"Ah, no," she breathed, her hand going to her throat. She would go to the trysting place and warn Robert, but would she be in time?

In the flickering torchlight she looked fairylike, fey. Falcon forgot he had been teasing her as desire rose up within him, fil ing his head with her fragrance. "My love, I'l be as quick as I can with the men. Wait for me?" he implored. He cupped her face in his hands and lifted her mouth to his.

With his hot demanding mouth on hers, his powerful arms encircled her and pressed her to his hard length. Locked in his embrace, it was as though she lost separate ident.i.ty. He overpowered her. She was conscious of every pulse of her blood. She was also terrified. He was too much . . . too big, too hard, too male, too hot, too driven by l.u.s.t.

He swept her up in his arms and took her to the furs. Suddenly she knew without doubt that al the women in his varied past had been obligingly wil ing. He carried her with such practiced ease, accenting the power of his hands and his body. He laid her on the furs and looked down at the lushly carnal picture her silken-clad body made. He towered over her, clothed and booted, as dark as Lucifer. She felt as if his strength and size had already invaded her.

She lay obediently pa.s.sive, hoping he would trust her to stay once he was gone. He bent to quickly remove his boots, threw the impeding cloak back over his shoulders, and lowered himself to the furs beside her.

"No, Falcon, women come too easily to you. You have been utterly spoiled where women are concerned. Your looks are so darkly beautiful and dangerous, they are al avid to have you make love to them. You must realize I'm different!" she cried.

"It's not the looks, darling," he demurred, "women simply want what they can't have. I'm a chal enge to them." His intense eyes were iridescent in the lamplight. "I do realize you're different, Ja.s.sy darling . . . you 're a chal enge to me." He brushed her cheek with his fingers and immediately felt the blood drumming in his fingertips, his throat, even the soles of his feet. These, however, were nothing compared to the blood-throb of his erection. It was wildly alive and seeking the hot place it longed to plunder mere inches away. Through his soft chamois breeches she felt him rigid just above her mound of Venus and quickly put her hand down between their touching bodies to s.h.i.+eld her private part. The effect on Falcon as her hand came in contact with him was overwhelming. He became almost o.r.g.a.s.mic and knew if he didn't swiftly focus attention from the hot core of his manhood to the hot core of her womanhood, he would disgrace himself.

He reached up under her silken gown, sliding his hand up her leg, inside her thigh, dislodged the protective hand she was using to cover herself, and with one swift rip tore her undergarment so that it no longer covered her between her legs. As she gasped, he sighed with satisfaction that he now held in his hand the jewel for which he'd l.u.s.ted so long. Easy, easy, man, a voice in his brain warned, don't deflower her with greedy, impatient fingers! More than anything on earth he wanted her to stay with him this night, yet his duty demanded that he leave her for a short time. His male arrogance told him that the only way to keep her in his bed was to arouse her desire to such a fever-pitch, she would wait al night for him to return and give her the bliss of fulfil ment.

He was monumental y aware of her virgin state, knew she'd be sensitive in the extreme to plundering fingers, and therefore he would have to use the magic of his lips, first on her mouth, then lower as her fever built. "Sweet, sweet," he whispered huskily as he brushed his lips across hers, then entered her fragrant mouth with his tongue. He gasped. "Can you die of pleasure?" Then his mouth returned to hers, but it was out of control, plundering her in a barbaric invasion. Jasmine had no choice but to yield to his overpowering onslaught. A smal measure of control returned to him as he began the delicate business of her first o.r.g.a.s.m.

Experience had taught him that it was entirely possible to bring a virgin to climax without tearing the hymen, but it cal ed for a certain amount of very gentle and delicate manipulation.

How to manage touching her with the strokes of a b.u.t.terfly's wings when al his urges demanded he be a battering ram?

His mouth was dry, his manroot throbbed with bursting blood; he thought he could taste the blood in his mouth. The pad of one fingertip gently traced the hot, dry lips between her legs.

He felt her shudder ... or was it he who shuddered? He stroked her gently, softly, over and over, holding his breath, waiting for a tiny drop of wetness on his finger that would be the signal for him to proceed. She was fever dry, so different from any other woman he'd ever touched. By now most females would be slippery with desire. Some he knew would be spil ing their love milk onto their thighs in antic.i.p.ation.

He increased the pressure of the pads of his fingertips and increased the speed of his rubbing friction. "Do you like me to touch you here, darling?" he whispered.

She squeezed her legs together tightly to prevent his fingers from their erotic teasing. "No!" she said fiercely.

As he held her cupped in his hand, his fingers curled ever so As he held her cupped in his hand, his fingers curled ever so slightly inside her, he felt her heat until she burned him. He could not help imagining what his shaft would feel like if he plunged into her this moment, and a low moan escaped from his throat. This was a new sensation for de Burgh. Up until now, s.e.x had been a playful diversion, a sport that brought pleasure, a casual game.

Now it was driving, urgent, his body demanding, clamoring, starving for her.

Try as he would, he could not control his l.u.s.t; rather it control ed him. He told her in heated detail what he was going to do to her when he returned, how many times he would love her, and how she'd feel when he did those things. "Sweet, sweet, wait here for me; promise me you won't move? The first thing I want to do when I come back is give you your first kiss."

"Don't be sil y, de Burgh, you've been kissing me al night,"

she said, gasping.

He chuckled. "Sweet innocent, I mean kiss you down here."

His possessive fingers curled inside her. "Darling, when I take your virginity it wil hurt you. My shaft is very large and wil stretch you to the limit. I know you want to wait until we're married for the consummation, but starting tonight I'l make love to you with my mouth. By the time we are wed you wil be more than eager to try something longer and harder than my tongue."

She was shocked to her soul. Not real y comprehending ful y, She was shocked to her soul. Not real y comprehending ful y, she whispered in disbelief, "You would kiss me, there?"

"Like this, darling," he said raggedly as his mouth took hers and he used his tongue deeply, intrusively, fil ing her total y with thrusting, dominant possession.

Her woman's cunning was the only thing that saved her. "I don't know how to do anything," she said softly.

He smiled down at her and slipped his fingers from her delicious heat. "By morning you wil , darling."

"If you don't hurry, morning wil be here, Falcon," she said breathlessly.

He rose from the furs and pul ed on his boots. "Sweet, sweet, I'l hurry," he swore.

She was afraid to move until she was very sure he had gone, then she threw back the furs and stood up. She swayed dizzily, as she realized her legs had turned to water with fear. Fear of de Burgh, fear for Mary-Ann's lover Robin, fear of the morrow's manhunt.

De Burgh cursed silently as he moved about the camp.

Because of the Sheriff of Nottingham's incompetence, compounded by exaggeration of the outlaw's daring deeds against the crown, his men were committed to take part in this travesty. He'd been ordered by John himself. When he learned that Chester, Nottingham, and Falkes de BreautS were taking part, he had protested that it was superfluous to add his knights and men-at-arms to hunt down a few freemen, farmers, and peasants who used the forest for their refuge, but John had been adamant. John himself wanted to enjoy the manhunt and would feel safer with de Burgh's men about him.

It wasn't that Falcon minded ridding the area of outlaws he was in the business of kil ing but somehow it seemed obscene to him to make a sport of it.

He spent longer with his men-at-arms this night than he did with his knights, for he knew common soldiers had a dread of the uncanny and the forests around Nottingham were legendary for their tales of the brotherhood of little people, of Mount Folk, Stone Folk, and Tree Folk who were supposed to rule the greenwood. Tales abounded of high mounds in the lonely deep forest where you could enter into entrancing lands of green twilight where lovely fiends dwel ed and dreadful wizards worked their soul-s.n.a.t.c.hing wiles and enchantment.

When Falcon returned to his tent he was sorely disappointed that Jasmine was not there awaiting his return, but he was not surprised. He had known somehow that she would flee the moment he left her. He knew she would have to be a wife, decently wed, before she gave herself to him. Even then it would be a reluctant mating on her part. He sighed. She was innocent, unawakened. No burning of the flesh, no hot desires, not even yearn- ings to be held in strong arms and stroked plagued sweet Jasmine.

He groaned aloud as he slipped inside the bed where her lingering fragrance clung to the furs. He closed his eyes and wil ed his demanding body to take rest while it could. His hot blood coursed through his veins, throbbing incessantly, making the heavy ache in gut and groin almost unendurable.

He asked the impossible of himself. How could a man as hot and l.u.s.ty as he rest at ease in a bed where his heart's desire had just been lying almost naked? He made an endless night of it, his body's frustration keeping him tense, aware, demanding. His thoughts prowled like a foraging wolf.

Gervase must have been mistaken about the man. It may have been a thief climbing from a window, or some young squire scaling the wal on a dare, or the man could have sought a damsel other than Jasmine. His seeking mind went over the unlikely alternatives. Final y he groaned, gave himself up to the agony of her lingering presence, and buried his face in the fur's female fragrance.

Dawn had not paled the sky when he arose. His mind and body demanded action and his men were probably in like case. A stag hunt would have been an ideal remedy, but the abomination that was planned for that day presaged a bad feeling inside of him. He made a quick decision and started to waken his men to give them their orders, beginning with Gervase. "Anyone spotted in the forests, round them up and take them prisoner. I don't want a wholesale slaughter. No bloodshed unless your life is at stake."