The Falcon and the Flower (53 page)

When he was close enough to see her naked form through the black wisp of silk he stopped and questioned, “Jassy … how did you come to me?”

“I flew on the wings of night,” she whispered, adding to the magic of the improbable encounter.

His voice was a caress. “I won’t ask how or why, it is enough that you are here.” He thought to close the distance between them, but she stepped back into shadow and disappeared, leaving only a trace of silvery laughter upon the still night air. She knew he would follow her. He would even be drawn through fire or water by the magnet of her body.

He had all the advantages, of course. He had designed the castle himself and in his black chausses with his deeply tanned chest, she could not see him. Conversely, Jasmine could not conceal her hair, so it was inevitable that the game was soon over. He came up behind her as she ran across the lawn and scooped her into his arms.

“You chased me until I caught you,” she teased.

“That’s true. You are a wanton little baggage, Jasmine de Burgh, running about in the night unclothed. I flatter myself that I rid you of your inhibitions, but I don’t believe you ever had any. You are a Pagan at heart.” He
kissed her throat, his lips traveling a fiery path up behind her ear, then his teeth found her earlobe and he gave her a love bite.

“I am a witch,” she said simply.

“Nay, witch is an ugly word. You are an enchantress;
my
enchantress. Last night there were herons and swans upon the lake. I longed to share them with you. I wished so hard for you that you have come.” He set her feet down in the grass, which was thick as velvet, and drew her hands to his lips.

“You’ve neglected me shamefully of late. I came because I needed you to tell me you love me.”

His mouth found hers. It was deliciously hard and demanding. Between deep kisses he pledged, “I love you, I adore you, I cherish you, I worship you.”

She sighed from the very tip of her toes.

“Lie with me beneath the stars,” he urged.

She stretched upon the emerald-dark grass and watched him remove his chausses, then he came down to her. The film of black silk separated their bodies, but it acted as an aphrodisiac. It was erotically tantalizing to caress her soft breasts through the silken material until he felt them grow firm in his hands. He drew in a great breath as his lengthening shaft brushed against the seductively slippery silk and their bodies slid together deliciously as he moved upon her. “Jassy, my love is indissoluble.”

“Not your love …
our
love, our love, my dearest darling.” She clung to him as if he were the source of her life’s breath, as if this act renewed her. She gave him so much passion and love and life that she needed him to replenish her. She needed his long, hard manroot to fill her emptiness with his own passion and love and life. Their joy in each other was so sharp and intense it was like pain.

After a long time she lay quiet, encircled in his arms as
they gazed at the dark sky. They watched shooting stars and wished upon them.

“At sea the crescent moon can be used to navigate,” he told her. “If you fantasize that it is a bow, you will shoot your arrow directly at the sun.”

“My fantasies run along different lines,” she teased.

He took hold of her fiercely and pinned her beneath him. “Such as?” he demanded.

She traced her finger along the hard line of his jaw. “I always dreamed of a moonlight swim. There are so many things we can dare in the night that we couldn’t do in the day with the eyes of the castle looking down on us.”

“By God, you are a temptress. I think we were together in Eden.” His hand, which had been absently stroking her delicious bottom through the black silk, now plucked away the material and his fingers sought the tight golden curls between her legs. He dipped his head to kiss her there, then sighed, reluctant to leave so pleasurable a diversion. “Come, we’ll swim in the moonlight. I only hope I can fulfill all your wishes this easily.”

They played in the water like a pair of otters. They teased and taunted and touched. When she kicked him, he kissed her. When he splashed her, she bit him. When he caught her, she pulled his hair.

Howling, he carried her from the water.

“I believe you are ready for more demanding sport, Lady Insatiable,” he teased.

He expected her to bolt the moment he put her down, but she stood looking at him with an awed look on her face. “You are magnificent,” she whispered. She reached out to feel the great slabs of muscle that stretched the length of his torso from shoulder to hip. His thighs were like marble. She knelt down before him to worship him with her lips, then her hot mouth covered him and he cried out in ecstasy.

By morning they were both respectably dressed and
took breakfast with the men. Falcon smiled down at her as he announced, “You can all take a holiday from the building today. I want to show off to my wife everything we’ve done here.”

Jasmine admired every stone of Portumna that day, never tiring of hearing the enthusiasm in his voice as he explained each and every detail of their future home. It was one of the last glorious days of summer, and they packed a picnic lunch and rowed out upon the lough. They found a secluded grassy bank. After the meal Falcon stretched out with his dark head in her lap, murmuring drowsy love words, revealing secret thoughts and exchanging love promises for the future as the bees droned about them in the hot afternoon sun.

Falcon felt the warmth of her thighs against his face, and the desire flared up in him as strongly as the first time he had seen her. He wanted her and knew she was well aware of it. “By God, madame, did you put an aphrodisiac in the wine? I feel as if I have sipped the philter of a sorceress. Did you use mandrake or wolfsbane?” he teased, showing off his knowledge of herbs.

She smiled her secret smile. “Ah, let me think, did I feed you monkshood or the deadly nightshade with its poisonous black berries?”

“What does that do? Swell the size of my manhood?”

“Well, you don’t need anything to swell the size of your head!”

As always their mood of teasing turned deadly serious when they made love, and afterward he couldn’t understand her mood as one tear slipped down her lovely cheek. “’T is just that this has been one of the happiest days of my life,” she tried to explain, which only baffled him further.

That night she clung to him desperately as a violent storm erupted over them when the cold air of autumn clashed with the last of summer’s heat. In the morning he
kissed her good-bye and promised to return to Galway in another week.

Jasmine had not covered two miles when the shadow returned to her. While she had been with him, Falcon had dispelled completely the vague unease that had taken hold of her. Suddenly she had a burning desire to see Bunratty. Tam groaned aloud his protest when she broached the subject, knowing as he listed the reasons why he should not take her, that in the end Jasmine would ride to Bunratty with him beside her.

Perhaps the threat of danger came from something unsafe about the great dock Falcon had built that brought ships right inside the castle walls. When she saw it, Jasmine could scarce believe her eyes. He had transformed the place as if by magic.

She was very weary from the long ride and frozen to the bone from the chill wind that blew in from the sea. She promised herself to come out later to view it all longer after she had warmed herself inside Bunratty. With Tam close on her heels, she made her way to the kitchen in search of hot food and came face to face with Morganna and her child. In that instant Jasmine’s world crumbled. Feeling faint, she willed herself to keep her composure. A voice inside her head screamed. Here is the trouble which threatens. But she was more than a threat; she was a reality. The two women challenged each other with their eyes.

Finally Morganna held up her stiff, crooked hand and spat, “You did this to me. I will bear your curse forever!”

Jasmine said quietly, “You did it to yourself, but if your mind is bent on blaming me, I will remove the curse from you. Bathe it in the waters of the River Shannon at midnight and the stiffness will leave it forever.” She knew the affliction was in the girl’s mind; any ritual would unfreeze it.

Jasmine moved away from her with regal dignity, although
in reality she went blindly, searching out a place where she could be alone. Tam followed her up to a bedchamber and watched helplessly as she crumpled down in one of the window embrasures, leaning her head against the stones, so cold and weary that she could not think. Her teeth chattered and beneath her drooped eyelids the shadows of the room swayed like water.

“My lady, I swear to you I did not know she was here,” Tam said desperately. “Why did you heal her hand?” he asked in disbelief.

She stared at him for a moment as if she had not heard him, but then she answered. “Because it is not Morganna who I hate!” Suddenly her composure shattered into a million pieces as her heart broke. Tam held her closely for an hour until her sobbing ceased and she had cried herself dry. Then he helped her to bed, covered her with the warm furs, and crept from the chamber.

When Jasmine rode into Galway Castle the next day, William’s ship rode in the harbor. She learned that as soon as he arrived yesterday a messenger had been dispatched to Falcon, and he was expected any hour now. Jasmine cringed at the thought of seeing him so soon. She hadn’t the vaguest idea what she would say—she knew only that she hated him with an intensity that threatened to consume her. Thank God Estelle was back, she would be able to advise her.

In the kitchens she saw Murphy deeply quaffing a large horn of ale. “Ah, it’s like an angel crying on my tongue,” he said with satisfaction.

“I’m glad you are back safely. Was William successful? How is his health? Where is Estelle?”

“So many questions, my little darlin’. Estelle had to stay behind with the king. She gave me this letter for you.”

An icy finger seemed to touch Jasmine, “But she was treating William’s health. Did the king force her?” she demanded.

Murphy set down the horn. “Darlin’, there’s little she can do for William an’ he’s the first to accept it. John didn’t force her outright; she insists her destiny lies with his, an’ there’s no arguin’ with the woman.” He shrugged. Then he smiled. “There now, ye’ve had the bad news, the rest is all wonderful. William was most successful in securing the de Burgh holdings, but I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ to tell you an’ Falcon himself.”

She tucked the letter into her belt and went up to the children. They both had the same response. After a quick kiss they both wanted Daddy and couldn’t seem to understand why she had dared to come back without him.

She sat down in a large wooden chair and opened Estelle’s letter.

Jasmine rested her head on the back of the chair and Mick crawled up into her lap. She stroked the black curls so infinitely precious to her. She thought of the child Falcon had made with Morganna while she thought his heart had beat only for her. The ache in her heart was so heavy she could scarcely endure it. No wonder she had had a premonition of impending doom. First the woman, now her children.

She glanced down at Rickard. He had pulled off her shoe and was wiggling her toes, saying “This little piggy went to market.”

A woman’s lot in this world was pain and tears, aching fear and sacrifice. She hugged Mick fiercely and kissed his temple. It would not be her sons who were sacrificed, she vowed. Mick squirmed in her tight embrace until she put him down. She watched him go, taking his brother with him. They ignored the toy animals and drums, much preferring the small wooden swords their father had made them. They were so like Falcon it took her breath away. She whispered, “I’ll not hand over my sons as if the king deserves anything he sets his dirty mind to have!”

Jasmine bathed and changed her clothes. She knew de Burgh would be arriving at any moment. She must look her best, for it always gave her confidence. In her wardrobe she pushed aside the whites and pinks, because de Burgh liked her best when she was soft and feminine. To face him now she’d choose a bolder color. Her hand hesitated over the black. Perhaps she should wear mourning for the love that he had killed. In the end she chose defiant
red velvet and painted her mouth as boldly scarlet as her gown.

She waited until the men arrived from Portumna and Falcon had been closeted with William for an hour before she interrupted them. By now she knew he would have poured William more than one strong Irish whisky. She could not bear to look at Falcon, but greeted William warmly with a welcoming kiss. “Congratulations, my lord, on your overwhelming success. By all accounts Meiler fitz Henry has been vanquished.” She saw his ravaged state of health. “Oh, William, London has taken its toll of you.”

He nodded. “It rained every day. The dampness of England is insidious, I’m afraid.”

Falcon watched his wife in silence. She had neither spoken to him nor looked at him. Her attitude screamed aloud that something was very wrong between them.

William held out a sealed parchment. “The king entrusted me with a letter for you, Jasmine.”

Falcon went black as iron. He snatched up the letter. “How dare he!” he exclaimed with loathing.

She turned glittering, cold eyes upon her husband. “You must be drunk, sir.” She held out her hand. “My letter.”

The space between them stretched incredibly wide. His mouth was ruthless and hard as he noted she was back to being the ice queen. He tore open the letter to reveal its contents and read aloud with disbelief: “My dearest Jasmine, You need not send your sons if you will come to me in their stead.”