The Falcon and the Flower Part 18

The whispered request hung in the air for long minutes. It was the first time she had ever said his given name with tenderness. Implicit in the request had been a half promise.

He made his decision swiftly and acted upon it immediately.

He picked up his knife from the corner where it lay and severed the ropes that bound his prisoner.

The legendary outlaw said, "Someday soon perhaps I may be in the position to do you an equal service." He rubbed his wrists, then drew the tearful Mary-Ann close against him.

"Come with me," he urged. "Let us be wed."

"I wil ! I wil come!" she cried without hesitation. Happiness shone from her face, turning an ordinary girl into a radiant beauty. Robert put his finger to his lips to silence her, then opened the chamber door a crack to make sure no danger lurked outside. It would be easier if they crept down the four flights of stone steps, but de Burgh was sure in that moment that if there had been no other way out, the man would have taken his beloved down the wal s on the end of a rope.

"My G.o.d, what a foolish girl," cried Jasmine.

Falcon took her by the shoulders and pul ed her hard against him. "Why? Because she went with a man who had nothing to give her but his love and his strength?" he demanded. "She's not foolish, she's courageous. A man would give al for a woman like that," he said with admiration. His arms tightened and she felt al the strength of his body, the heavy shoulders, the powerful legs. He lifted her in his embrace so that her feet swung clear of the floor. Then he kissed her. Slowly he let her slide down his body until her feet touched the carpet and his hands drew aside her bedgown to take possession of her delicate b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Don't!" she cried, shocked.

"Sweet, sweet, there's only an hour left til dawn. Let me love you. Don't turn me away again." He felt her resisting him. "You don't have to give me everything until we are wed, but d.a.m.n it, give me something." His lips touched her throat and traveled lower toward where her heart fluttered erratical y.

"No, no, de Burgh, don't do this to me," she cried.

"Jasmine, you asked me for something and I gave it, now I am asking you for something."

"You are not asking!" she hissed. "You never ask. You order, you command, you take, but you never ask."

"I ask, Jasmine, I asked just now, but I won't beg, I won't grovel. I'm a man!" He spread his arms wide. "What is it you want from me?"

"You ask that as if you would give me anything I desired."

"I wil ," he promised. "What do you want?"

"Nothing!" She laughed, deeply satisfied. He had offered her anything and she had refused.

He almost struck her. She goaded him to the edge of violence, daring his manhood. He took hold of her roughly and crushed his mouth down on hers. He relished the pain it brought to his swol en jaw, and he needed to give her a little pain. With hurting hands he felt al the private places of her soft body. His mouth effectively silenced her cries. The kiss was ruthlessly l.u.s.tful. Abruptly he let go of her and said with deadly intent, "You accuse me of taking ... so I shal !"

Deliberately he fastened one scarred hand into the neckline of her bedgown and tore it a.s.sunder.

"My G.o.d, my beautiful clothes! You destroy everything I own, you must be mad!" she cried, kicking the tatters from her ankles and crossing her arms protectively across her bared b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

He ground out, "I owe you one bedgown and one d.a.m.ned good beating with your riding crop." He s.n.a.t.c.hed it up from the stool where it lay and Jasmine turned and fled. His anger was immediately replaced by l.u.s.t as he saw her long, pretty legs and the opulent swel of her bare bottom. She ran into the far corner of the room then turned with fear-wide eyes, expecting him to bear down upon her with the cruel weapon in his grasp, but his only intent was to introduce her to the ways of love.

He lifted her up so that he could kiss her, but his mail crushed into her upthrusting b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she cried out. He lifted it off, dropping it to the floor with an ominous clang of metal which rang in her ears. Before he seized her up again he undid his breeches so that his great weapon sprang free. She dared not look at it and lifted beseeching eyes to his face. She saw only l.u.s.t written there as his dark brows slanted above his deep-set, sea-green eyes.

Pressing her up against the wal , he bent his knees so that he would be able to support her when he thrust upward and entered her. Poised on the brink, he felt the thril to the tip of his toes.

She needed a weapon to defend herself but had only a cutting tongue, sharp nails and teeth, and her wits. She tried out the first. "You sicken me! You are an uncivilized, brutal savage.

You are driven to madness by your l.u.s.t! You don't give a d.a.m.n for anyone but yourself! Your squire lies near death, but al you can think of is f.u.c.king!"

He was shocked back to reality by the filthy word his beautiful Jasmine had just uttered and also by the truth she threw at him. Falcon de Burgh in that moment experienced shame for the first time since his early youth. Abruptly he set her feet to the floor, picked up his chain mail, and quit the chamber.

Jasmine fel back against the wal , bruising her thigh. She clenched her fists and swore an oath. "By G.o.d, de Burgh, before I'm done with you, I'l make you beg, I'l make you apologize for every insult you've flung at me!"

As Falcon approached his tent, he heard Gervase babbling nonsense and knew he was delirious with fever. He lifted the flap and entered just as Estel e was giving him another drink of bitter borage. Her shrewd eyes took in his bruises and his anger as he entered, then watched it disappear, replaced by anxiety for his squire. "I'm glad you are back," she said. "Very shortly his fever should break and he wil be soaked with sweat. You can help me change him and change the linen."

He nodded. "I appreciate what you are doing, Dame Win wood."

"Have you been fighting over Jasmine?" she asked him bluntly.

"I thought I was, but I was mistaken." He shrugged. "I've fought al my life . . . it's fight and survive or fight and die."

"De Burgh, you have royal blood, do you not?"

"Aye," he acknowledged. "We de Burghs are descended from Wil iam the Conqueror's brother, Robert of Mortain."

"Too bad. It is too, too bad that the royal throne of kings did not come to a man like you. Instead through an accident of birth we have sc.u.m, that piece of offal to rule us." She sighed.

"Ah, wel , the only thing in life we can be sure of is change."

He said evenly, "Let's hope when it comes it is change for the better."

She looked up at him in surprise, then realized he didn't have the gift of second sight as she did. "No, de Burgh, things are going to get worse, much worse, before they get better."

They worked over Gervase for two hours, bathing him and changing the linen, then final y, merciful y the sweating ceased and he fel into a more peaceful sleep. Estel e began to gather her paraphernalia and said, "I'l go and get some rest now. In the afternoon I wil return and dress the wound with rue."

"Estel e," Falcon said quietly.

"Yes?" she asked, pausing at the entrance.

"When I return from Scotland, I wil marry Jasmine and take her from court."

Poor devil, she thought, he hasn't the vaguest idea that he's far gone in love with her. He stil thinks he's in control. "Good night," she bid him.

Chapter 20.

The next morning King John decided to continue his journey to the border to sign the treaty with King Alexander. Isabel a and the court would stay on enjoying Nottingham's hospitality until John returned. Since Chester did not accompany the king, John had a word with him before he left. "Ranulf, about the secret matter we discussed ... I believe Isabel a has some fine ideas about the whole thing. She loves secrets. She'l plan everything down to the last detail. Put your heads together and we'l al come out of this with something we consummately desire," he said, winking.

"Remove the old woman for me, she is a b.l.o.o.d.y impediment,"

said Chester.

John chose to take offense. "Have a care, Ranulf. Dame Winwood is indispensable to me. I wouldn't consider such a lengthy trek without taking her with me. Her apothecary skil s are unmatched. My physician is a butcher compared with her."

Estel e, however, was furious when she learned she must accompany John. She disliked riding and actual y protested to the king on the grounds that her old bones would not take kindly to a trek that would take them over three hundred miles there and back.

The king dismissed her protest instantly. "Estel e, cut out the c.r.a.p, you are as tough as old boots."

She had no option but to pack her apothecary paraphernalia and hope that Falcon de Burgh would not set a murderous pace. At first de Burgh was annoyed that Ger-vase was not healed enough for the journey, but upon reflection he felt it might not be a bad idea to leave a pair of "eyes" behind.

"Gervase, I have reason to believe the arrow you took was intended for me," he told his squire. "I suspect Chester wants me dead. Watch him closely for me. Don't trust him; he's far too clever to have only one scheme in his head. Since the king is taking your nurse with him, I'l have to ask Jasmine to dress your wound for you."

Gervase actual y blushed, and Falcon realized she'd snared another heart. Was there no end to the little witch's conquests?

Falcon sought her out at the very last moment. Much to his irritation, he found her in the castle garden walking with Wil Marshal, the king's squire who was about her own age.

"I hoped you would be too busy to bid me good-bye," she said cruel y.

De Burgh said pointedly to the squire, "Attend the king, he is ready to depart."

"No, Wil !" cried Jasmine. "Stay by me lest he brutal y attacks me again."

De Burgh took a step toward Wil and winked broadly. Then he said in a deliberately harsh voice, "Begone, Marshal, I want no witnesses to what I am about to do to her."

Wil grinned and sprinted off to find his groom who would be waiting with his horse. Jasmine glanced at de Burgh and noticed his battered face was healing wel and was almost back to normal. "I warrant I've more bruises than you, you brute."

"I have little desire to hurt you, Jasmine, but I warn you now, wench, that if I continue to find you with men, I wil give you a hard slap or two."

Her eyes flashed fire and she said regal y, "I came to the garden for fresh air. Please be good enough to leave me, sir."

He couldn't resist. He set his hands to her waist and lifted her up to him. She had no choice but to cling to his wide shoulders for support. Then he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. It began with the sweetest tenderness, his lips holding hers captive for long lingering minutes. The sound of her heart leaping about in her chest alarmed Jasmine. Her wicked juices began to stir, and suddenly her sharp little teeth bit into his bottom lip.

He set her to the ground with a look of surprised disbelief.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Falcon, I was carried away," she said with the innocence of an asp.

His blood surged with anger and l.u.s.t, the deadly combination.

He pushed her into the deep gra.s.s and fel on top of her. One bold hand reached up her skirts to fondle her bare thighs and his fingers sought the tiny jewel nestled deep inside the exquisite flaxen curls.

As she desperately sought to squeeze her thighs together to prevent him from plundering her, she knew she had goaded him beyond control.

Young Wil Marshal was astonished to see the couple in the gra.s.s. He had had no notion that de Burgh would bid her adieu by making love to her on the ground. He had not been jesting when he had winked and said he wanted no witnesses to what he was about to do to her. Though he was embarra.s.sed to do so, Wil had no choice but to interrupt their love play. "M'Lord de Burgh," he cal ed, "the king commands you attend him, sir."

Jasmine gasped as he held her pinned long minutes with both his hands and his crystal-green gaze. Final y he said, "When I return, I'l finish what I started and that's a promise!" He left without a backward glance.

Later that day it was reported that Mary-Ann FitzWalter had gone missing. Jasmine tried not to laugh when a search party was organized and men were sent along the banks of the River Trent and into the fringes of the forest for sign of foul play. At last Mary-Ann's father must have guessed where she had gone and tried to downplay her disappearance. When they discovered that her young cousin, the red-haired Matilda, was also missing, they decided the two girls must have gone home to either Malaset or Dunmow.

Estel e was never more relieved in her life to see the high turrets of Pontefract Castle looming in the distance. De Burgh had bidden one of his men ride at her side and a.s.sist her to mount and dismount. She was thankful for the strong arm to lean upon as he helped her into the women's quarters and carried her boxes for her. She ordered a tray for herself, for there was no way she was going to drag herself to the hal to sit through a three-hour bout at table with the king and his host. She put on a warm bedgown, for the autumn nights this far north had a definite nip to them, and fel asleep almost instantly.

She blinked owlishly as a young page shook her awake.

"Dame Winwood, please awaken, the king has need of your services, ma'am."

"d.a.m.n the king!" she said, visibly shocking the young errand boy. "It must be close on midnight, what the hel can he want at this hour?"

"I don't know, ma'am. I was told to sleep outside the royal chamber. Al at once King John came out and kicked me awake and told me to hurry and fetch you."

"Wel , mayhap he's had a fit," she murmured to herself." Then she added, "And by G.o.d if he hasn't, I'l give him one." She took out a bottle of distil ed lily-of-the-val ey and said, "Lead the way, lad, then get to bed. A child should be in his bed at this hour, not sleeping in doorholes."

She found the king's chamber locked, so she rapped lightly.

The door was opened a crack. "Are you alone?" asked John.

"Of course I'm alone. Who else would be about at this unG.o.dly hour?" she demanded.

He opened it only partway and said, "Come inside quickly."

She scrutinized him and saw that although he wasn't in a fit he was deathly pale and extremely agitated. There was definitely something odd about a man who would wear a bedrobe and a crown.

He jerked a thumb toward the great bed. "Something has happened to her ... you'l have to revive her."

Estel e could see no one in the great bed. She went closer, then turned back the cover. "Mother of G.o.d," Estel e cried, crossing herself, a thing she seldom did. The smal , naked body of the twelve-year-old Mathilda FitzWalter lay whiter than death. In contrast, her bril iant red hair spread across the pil ows as an omen of what Estel e would see when she pul ed the covers down al the way. Crimson blood pooled the bed where the child had hemorrhaged. Her thighs ran with it and a pil ow had been stuffed between them in a futile attempt to stem her life's blood.

John wrung his hands. "Give her something to restore her."

Estel e's accusing eyes burned into his. "I work miracles, but I do not resurrect the dead!"

"She's not dead, woman, she's not dead I tel you!"

"She is dead. You have kil ed her." It was a dangerous moment for Estel e. One missed step, one word wrong as she diced with death could seal her doom. She quickly told herself that in any encounter between two people, one is dominant, one submits. The difference is fear and John was certainly afraid.

"We'l have to get rid of her," he said, linking her to the conspiracy. "What wil we do with her?"

"It's best you don't know. Leave al to me," she temporized.

This was one body that was not going to be conveniently disposed of, Estel e decided. She would send it home for burial. She thought of de Burgh, then dismissed the name instantly. She didn't want him connected to this. Likely he would never compromise his integrity and could lose his head as a result.

She washed the smal body until it was free of blood, then she gathered the sheets and pil ow and took them to be burned.

"Don't open this door to anyone until I return," she instructed the king.

He nodded solemnly and fingered his crown nervously.

She hurried along the hal to Wil Marshal's room and drew him outside into the hal . "I want you to get a wooden box with a lid and fetch it to the king's chamber," she told the young man.

He looked puzzled. "How large?"

"Large enough to hold the body of a child," she said softly.

"Take it home to the FitzWalter family at Dunmow."