The Falcon and the Flower (49 page)

She was overjoyed to see her father and took him by the hand up to the tower room now used as a nursery. He was a proud grandfather and couldn’t get over the fact that Jasmine had borne them. He kept shaking his head and laughing. “Your relationship certainly must have undergone a metamorphosis. Things were strained between you to say the least.”

Jasmine smiled her secret smile as Falcon came into the chamber to receive hearty congratulations.

“What happened between you two?” asked Salisbury, shaking his head in disbelief.

“De Burgh in heat was too hard to resist,” she said lightly, causing both men to flush.

Closeted with Salisbury, Falcon learned that, in a bold attempt to avert civil war, John’s advisers had suggested he take his army to conquer Ireland once and for all. Amazingly most of the barons had agreed to send their men. He had appointed a new justiciar in Ireland to look
to the crown’s interests in the land—an Irish baron by the name of Meiler fitz Henry.

“John knows your worth as a fighting man, he knows the loyalty your men bear you—envies it, in fact. He is calling on you as one of the Lords of the Welsh Marches to fulfill your military obligations to the crown.”

Since Falcon had already decided to go to Ireland to aid William de Burgh, he reasoned that he might as well let John bear the financial burden of transporting his men and their horses. He said, “I’m ready now. All I need is ships. With Hubert de Burgh in charge of the Cinque Ports I don’t think that should pose a problem, do you?”

Salisbury sighed with satisfaction. Falcon de Burgh was always so decisive, which is exactly what made him such a great general in battle.

“The navy has ships in Bristol. Don’t you want to wait for the departure of the other barons? There’s talk of John sailing with the army.”

“Wait for John?” Falcon asked, laughing incredulously. “Unlike John I can’t waste my life cowering under the bedsheets. It’s now or never, providing I’m in charge of when we sail and where we make land. I’ll send the ships back for the rest of your army, William.”

“I don’t think you need worry about Chester any longer. Rumor has it he is to wed soon.”

Falcon grinned. “Me? Worry about Chester?”

The two men enjoyed a hearty laugh. “John has finally produced an heir. I left him strutting about like he was the first man to ever sire a son. I’d better not tell him you’ve even bettered him in that.”

Falcon ran his hand down Jasmine’s ever-tempting hair as she sat brushing it, then disrobed quickly and stretched himself in the bed. He had something to tell her and wasn’t at all sure that she would understand. Never
one for evasive words, he came right out with it. “I am going to Ireland.”

Her hand stopped in midair holding the brush. She looked at him stretched with his hands behind his dark head. He had not discussed it with her. He had taken the decision himself. She sighed. She couldn’t expect a man like de Burgh to seek her council, it would be like asking for her permission. The idea would not occur to him. She approached him clad only in her shift. She was about to ask softly, “When do we leave?” when he imprisoned her wrist and said thickly, “I already miss you!”

“What?” she asked incredulously, her eyes going wide.

“Come to bed, love,” he urged.

“Not now!
You
are not going to Ireland;
we
are going to Ireland.”

“Don’t be silly, Jasmine, think of the danger.”

“There is danger if you leave us here. What of Chester?”

“He is to be wed,” he said quietly.

“Then John. You know he would like to get his hands on me!” she hissed.

“John needs my aid. You need fear nothing from that quarter,” he assured her. “Come to bed. I had in mind a more pleasant pursuit than fighting with you.”

She was angry. She flared, “Not now! There’s still danger here. What if that whore of yours comes creeping back to murder me and my babes in our beds?”

“Jasmine, that’s enough!” he silenced.

She ignored the warning. “You think I’m useless. I made it over those damned Black Mountains through the freezing snow. I learned how to run a castle. I gave you two sons.”

“Jasmine, come here to me,” he commanded. She turned her back on him. “You can forget about that, de Burgh. Try sleeping alone!” She slammed the
chamber door and ran up to the nursery. Big Meg eyed her silk shift and flushed cheeks.

Jasmine said, “I’ve decided to sleep up here tonight.” No sooner was the declaration out of her mouth than an angry de Burgh strode in, naked as the day he was born.

“Don’t ever turn your back and walk out on me again,” he ground out.

“Hush, you’ll wake the babes,” she said.

Meg rolled her eyes as the master picked up the mistress and strode out with her in his powerful arms. He slammed their bedchamber door shut with a kick and set her feet down in front of the fire. Then he pulled her down to the furs and pushed her back into their deep pile. Fierce crystal-green eyes reflecting the flames of the fire challenged her to deny him. “I will send for you when all is secured and safe.”

“No!” she spat.

“I will not allow you to pull away from me, to withdraw from me again … keeping yourself from me while you grow ever colder and I grow ever hotter!” His eyes burned her with his intent, unblinking, his meaning deliberate. He tore off her shift, possessively feasting on the sight of her rosy breasts in the flickering firelight. He knew she was watching his face, his eyes, his mouth as they worshipped her nudity, and he knew the effect it was having on her as her eyelids half closed. He trapped a nipple between finger and thumb and manipulated it gently, then cupped her breasts with his great scarred hands and brought them to his mouth.

Her arms slid about his neck and she clasped him to her, opening her thighs. He slid into her hot sheath, filling her completely. Wildly she wrapped her legs about him, tossing her head from side to side on the silvery furs, riding with him to that secret place only the two of them were allowed to go. “I love you,” he said hoarsely.

“Take me!” It had a double meaning in that precise moment and he knew he could deny her nothing.

Afterward she lay in his arms in the big bed, whispering between kisses. “All you need do is sail straight to Connaught, secure a castle for us, then fight your way through to William at Boyle. If you can’t do that in short order, I’ll know you for a weak-livered, ass-eared lout.” She was almost childlike in her trust and confidence in his abilities.

He kissed her again and murmured, “You have an uncommon knowledge of my business, madame.”

“You forget I am a witch,” she teased him with her tongue.

“Did you say bitch?” he asked, his mouth sliding down to taste her luscious breasts. His lips traced down her stomach and drifted between her legs. As his cheek rested against her soft thigh, he asked her to show him the place she liked to be touched. He captured her hand, kissed each finger, then ran his tongue across her palm. He guided her first finger to the insistent hot pulsing between her legs.

“Here?” he whispered, allowing her fingertip to touch the swollen pink flesh. “Here?” he asked huskily, moving her finger to touch the erect bud of her womanhood.

When she gasped “Please, Falcon,” he smiled knowingly and raised her hand back to his mouth. He sucked the sweetness from her fingertips then took her fiercely a second time. Then he enfolded her in his arms with her back against him so he could fall asleep holding her breast as he always did.

Falcon sealed his message to William de Burgh, and Murphy was on his way. William and Mathilda de Braose decided to sail with Murphy to Meath where their son-in-law Walter de Lacey ruled, and which would bring Murphy closer to Boyle.

While the ships were being brought from Bristol, Falcon pored over his maps of Ireland. He was a direct man who chose a goal and made an unswerving path toward it, and he saw no reason to change his methods in this campaign. Most of the English in Ireland went to Dublin and never ventured beyond The Pale. He would go to the opposite coast. He would sail directly into Galway and secure it. Galway looked to have a magnificent bay. He knew it had a great Norman castle built by the Conqueror in the last century when Galway had been a thriving seaport.

It was also the heart of the de Burgh lands of Connaught. In the week before they sailed he almost despaired that he had promised to take Jasmine, for he realized that wherever she went, the menagerie followed. The twins, their wet nurse, Big Meg, and Estelle he grudgingly agreed to. She had to seduce him, however, into agreeing to take Feather and Prick. When the subject of Shanna arose, he flatly refused, and Jasmine was forced to smuggle the great cat aboard a supply ship under cover of dark. Jasmine would leave nothing behind she valued, for she knew with a deep certainty that their future lay in Ireland, for good or for ill.

Falcon was mildly surprised that his knights and men-at-arms totaled four hundred. No wonder John wanted his service again. Well, he was going to Ireland, but it sure as hell wasn’t in the king’s cause. It was in de Burgh’s cause and would remain so for the rest of his life, he vowed.

The voyage across the Celtic Sea was unremarkable, mainly because by chance they had picked the best month of the summer to sail. Jasmine saw nothing of Falcon during the voyage for his every minute was taken up with his men, their horses, weapons, and supplies, but the last night as they stood at anchor by the Aran Isles awaiting the other ships, he came to her.

Later, she awoke with a start in the narrow bunk to find his hot mouth pressed against her breast. “Is it very late?” she asked guiltily. “I know you wanted an early start.”

“You needed the sleep, I fear I kept you awake most of the night.” She blushed and watched him leave the berth to dress and don his armor. Suddenly tears choked her throat. She wanted to hold him so tightly that he would never leave her, but she knew he would hate her tears. She would never cling to him to weaken his resolve. He came to the bed now and sat on the edge, his face hard. She sat up, unmindful of her nakedness in the intensity of the parting.

“You’ll stay aboard until all is safe, even if it takes a month!” he commanded. “The captain has his orders to take you back out into safe waters as soon as we’re landed.”

She searched his face. The only fear she saw there was for her. Suddenly he grinned. “Give me a kiss to spur me on.”

“Haven’t you had enough?” she asked tremulously.

“Never,” he whispered against her mouth.

He stood and she pulled up the furs to cover herself. “No,” he protested, “let me carry a picture of you in all your loveliness.”

The de Burgh army swept up from the shores of Galway taking all before them in few battles and with fewer injuries. Falcon couldn’t have done it with undisciplined men. De Burgh wanted no burned castles, ruined crops,
raped women, or looted towns. These people were going to be his people. It was a matter of leadership.

By the second day he was in possession of Galway Castle; those of Carragh’s men who had been left to hold it were dispatched without hesitation, and the Irish kerns, servants, and cooks were given a choice of serving or dying.

Falcon de Burgh stood alone on the ramparts marveling at the heartstopping beauty of the land—the pink dawns and lavender dusks, the lushest green meadows he’d ever seen, which couldn’t just be a trick of the light. He looked down at the rugged coast behind him and the sound of the waves almost emptied his head. He had a sense of oneness with the land, a feeling of coming home. Connaught was a place to have and to hold forever, like the right woman, like Jasmine.

He looked off across the rolling hills and meadows. They should be dotted with sheep and filled with rich, milky herds. He’d see to it. He could travel for a week and still be on de Burgh land. Connaught … he’d make it a world apart or die in the attempt!

Falcon safely ensconced Jasmine and the twins in the castle and put a twenty-four-hour guard around its walls. He gave the Irish their freedom in exchange for their parole. He wanted them to think they were trusted because it gave a man self-esteem to be on an honor system. Of course he didn’t trust them, not yet. Not when tribes were capable of rising in the night to murder those who slept beneath their roof.

Galway was a sizable port, though very poor at the moment. Tiny fishing vessels eked out a living, but the trading ships of the O’Malleys of adjacent Connemara had stopped sailing into Galway because its people were now too poor to buy or barter goods. The town’s former prosperity could be seen by the cobblestone streets lined
by neat stone cottages and taverns, which, for the most part, had closed long ago.

De Burgh men now swaggered through the streets, their authority undisputed, their spirits high with the adventure of conquering a new land. The people of Galway were surprised when the castle did not take what it needed, but offered to buy with good coin their catches of fish and fresh hay cut from the fields.

An enterprising couple with a millwheel began to grind wheat and barley to provide the castle with flour. Flax that hadn’t been picked in years was gathered and spun into linen for the refined ladies who lived at Castle Galway. Daily, Falcon sent out hunting parties into the woods and forests where deer and game were abundant.

The Irish peasants had taken only rabbits and hares that could be caught with crude snares; larger game had been ignored for lack of weapons to hunt them. His horses were growing sleek on the sweet green clover, and de Burgh knew he could delay no longer the campaign that would take them up through Roscommon to Boyle where William and his decimated army had taken refuge. He hand-picked a score of his best men to leave behind in Galway; he wanted no surprises on his return.

Falcon took Tam aside and spoke to him privately.

“I want you to guard Jasmine while I’m gone. If I don’t return or get a message through to you within a month, get her back under Salisbury’s protection.”

Tam grinned. “I wager you’ll be back in half that time.”

Falcon’s face was grim and serious. “I hope I haven’t picked the wrong man to guard Jasmine. She can be a little bitch and won’t hesitate to wrap you around her little finger to get her own way. I want you to become her shadow. Don’t let her get farther away from you than a tall man’s pissing distance,” he warned.