The Falcon and the Flower Part 25

Isabel laughed. "Oh, you are shy of him seeing you nude. I bet he's an outrageous rogue who has you in a continual blush.

How I remember my wedding night. I was like you, I had no experience of men. I lived in Ireland with my parents until my father's untimely death, then I was cloistered here at Cheapstow and final y taken to the Tower of London for safekeeping so no man could abduct me for my vast land holdings. They married me to the marshal of England and I was terrified of him until he took me to bed and worshipped me. Even though I have grown children, I'm stil in love with my husband."

"You real y love him?" asked Jasmine in disbelief.

Isabel nodded happily. "He stil makes me breathless with desire when he gets that speculative look in his eyes. We are lucky, Jasmine, there aren't too many love matches, you know.

Hubert told us how magnificently heroic Falcon was when he sensed you were in danger. Al the bridges had been swept away over the Ouse River and he plunged into the raging waters, risking his life to reach you in time."

Jasmine looked at her strangely. Isabel sighed. "You must be very much in love." Jasmine stepped from the tub and stood by the fire to towel her hair dry. Isabel lifted the lid of Jasmine's traveling trunk and took out the pink velvet. "I'l just warm it to take the dampness away," Isabel said, draping it over a bra.s.s fireguard. "I'l go and get you that nightgown for later. If I can put my hands on it, I have the most al uring black n6gligee Wil iam brought from France a few years back. It wil be shockingly delicious for a wedding night!"

Jasmine wished she'd never asked for it. The maids came in to remove the bath and then they put scented satin sheets upon the bridal bed at Isabel's insistence. They brought a good supply of wine and sweet cakes for the bridal couple and saw that the fire was wel banked with plenty of wood and coals in a bra.s.s holder.

"Your son Wil was very kind to me at court, Isabel. He was one of the few friends I made."

Isabel sighed. "Wil and his father had the most awful fight when he left court. He urged his father to turn his back on King John, but Wil iam said that would be like turning his back on England. Loyalty, I'm afraid, comes very high on Wil iam's list of virtues. Men are quite sil y real y. They have this wretched code of honor. They chose John for king and they wil stick by him to the end, no matter that he's the worst king that England has ever known. Women are far more practical than men with their high ideals. We see men as they real y are."

Jasmine grimaced and said, "I don't even know where my poor grandmother is, but she always says men only sweat, fart, snore, and shout."

Isabel's laugh rang out. "Oh, Dame Winwood is so outrageous, but if we don't go down to dinner soon that's just what they'l be doing!"

When Isabel entered the private dining room with Jasmine on her arm, al the men in the room stood and gave a col ective sigh. Never had there been a more beautiful, feminine bride than Jasmine de Burgh.

Her father came forward to take her in his arms. "My little darling, you've had quite an ordeal, I hear."

She looked up into his kind eyes and marveled that he could possibly be John's brother.

He patted her head as if she were a little girl. "Never mind, you have Falcon to look after you now. I knew what I was doing when I betrothed you to the young devil, you know."

Jasmine's eyes flashed. If they had been alone she would have told him exactly what he could do with the young devil, and would tel him so the first chance she got.

He took her to Falcon and placed her smal hand in his.

Falcon looked amused. Jasmine looked daggers!

Lady Isabel Marshal was a magnificent chatelaine. Her servants were trained to be un.o.btrusive as wel as efficient. As she had instructed they had set up a twelve-foot refectory table to seat six. It was laid with cream linen and Venetian crystal. Dark russet chrysanthemums decorated the center along with slim tapers of purest scented wax. She sat Jasmine between her husband and her fa- ther, and Isabel sat between her own husband and Hubert de Burgh.

Wil iam shook his head in wonder as he gazed across at Jasmine. "So fair, so smal . Are you sure this child is old enough to be wed?"

"She is nineteen, Wil iam." Isabel spoke up. "Exactly the age I was when we were wed. Do you remember?"

"Remember? I remember details I can't recount in company, but I'l remind you of them later when we are alone."

Isabel said laughing, "I told you he loves to make me blush."

They were served clear turtle soup laced with cream, fol owed by plaice, which the chef had properly calvered for the guests.

An abundance of oysters set the men to teasing Falcon as they pressed him to a second helping. Jasmine did not quite understand the innuendos and the men looked on her with approving eyes. Innocence was a desirable quality in a bride.

There was heron in Burgundy sauce, piles of rice colored by saffron accompanied by al the vegetables of late autumn. The piece de resistance was a crisp saddle of mutton with mint.

After the main course came meringues fil ed with apples, nuts, and whipped cream and a great wheel of cheese decorated with ripe pears. There was the choice of many drinks: old ale, cider, and both red and white wine, brought from the marshal's vineyards in France two years back.

Each in turn offered a toast to the bride. Falcon thanked them on her behalf and offered a toast to their hospitable host and hostess, but when Jasmine held her goblet up for the servant to refil , Falcon refused the wine for her.

Hubert spoke up. "Maybe the la.s.s wants some more."

Falcon said firmly, "Lady Jasmine wants what I want."

She clenched her fist under cover of the table and thumped de Burgh's thigh. She gave a little yelp of pain as her hand felt as if it had struck iron. Her cry drew al eyes and she took advantage of the situation to lie, "My husband pinched me."

"Can't keep his hands off her," said Hubert, laughing.

"Wel , I think we can excuse these young people. After al , it is their wedding night," Wil iam said indulgently.

Isabel rose from the table and drew Jasmine with her. She looked at Falcon with sparkling eyes and said, "Just give us a few minutes, milord."

Isabel fussed over Jasmine's preparation for bed, as excited as if she were the bride. Final y her pale golden hair was brushed, perfume was applied, and the sheer black nightgown, gathered beneath the b.r.e.a.s.t.s with pink ribbons, was donned. Isabel wished her joy of her wedding night and at last departed. Within two minutes Falcon opened the chamber door.

He stood transfixed by the transparent black garment, which was designed to reveal rather than conceal Jasmine's exquisite form. He had been exhausted, yet suddenly the need for sleep vanished.

She ran to him quickly with her fingers to her lips. "Hush, we wil have to whisper. I don't want Isabel to hear us fight like cat and dog. She has gotten hold of the notion that this is a great love match and we are deep in love with each other."

He tried to take her by the shoulders. "I don't mind pretending for once . . . just to please Isabel," he whispered.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed.

He took away his hands so quickly she almost fel . His voice was a savage whisper. "Do you expect me to ask politely each time I touch you? It's getting to be a wearisome affair having you always deny me!"

"We are just not suited. We are at each other's throats the moment we are alone, but I don't want to spoil it for Isabel.

She has been so kind to me and she is so excited about having newlyweds here," Jasmine said quietly.

"I hope you don't think you can deny me. If I choose, you know you wil have to let me do it," Falcon whispered savagely.

"If you lay one finger on me, I'l scream the place down," she whispered fiercely.

He always took up a chal enge. He pushed her down onto the bed and she gave a piercing scream and shouted at the top of her voice, "I sat on p.r.i.c.k!"

"By the legs of G.o.d, Jasmine, they wil think I am kil ing you."

Then he began to laugh at the humor of the situation. "I thought he was cal ed Quil ?"

"He was," she hissed, "but you cal him p.r.i.c.k so often, I've changed his name." She covered her face and groaned. "Oh, my lord, what wil they al be thinking?"

"They wil think you most pa.s.sionate to cry out so that the whole castle can hear," he replied, chuckling.

"They have misconceptions about you too. They think you performed some great heroic feat by swimming a raging river to get to me. They think we have this great psychic bond that told you I needed you. I'm cast in the role of damsel in distress and you are the n.o.ble, heroic knight." She stopped and looked at him. "You real y did swim that river, didn't you?" she said, amazed. "My G.o.d, you must be dead on your feet. I'm sorry," she murmured.

He sighed with the pleasure he always felt when her words to him were sweet as honey. She was apologizing to him and suddenly he remembered how roughly, though deliciously, he had forced himself upon her two nights before. She was so fragile. Perhaps he was being selfish not to let her rest tonight.

He knew that he could control himself with her only up to a point. After that the demands of his powerful body ruled supreme and took what it wanted. Jasmine took him to a place where nothing else mattered but burying his body deep inside hers. "I'l sleep on the floor," he offered hoa.r.s.ely, "You need your rest, we stil have far to go."

"You need your rest as much as I. You wil sleep in the bed on your wedding night or I am ashamed. Do not touch me but rest more at ease than on the floor."

He looked down at her. Only a child would believe that a man, any normal whole man, would rest more at ease in a bed with a near-naked woman than on the floor alone. "Very wel ," he agreed shortly.

He put out the candles, undressed quickly, and climbed into the bed beside her, naked. He lay silent, stiff, desperately aware of the silken body. He could feel her warmth and smel her tempting fragrance. He had never felt less like sleep.

Every breath she took, every least stir she made, he was aware of.

The longer he lay the harder he became. His masculinity was an aching urgency. He wil ed her to touch him, to reach out to him so that he could leave her in no doubt of his readiness. He was making an endless night of it. He would be aware of each hour, but she did not move.

Slowly the realization came to him that he was a fool. Jasmine was his and he would have the joy of her, wil ing or no. His broad shoulders took up most of the bed, so he did not have to reach far to lay hands on her. He simply placed his hands on her waist, easily spanning it, and lifted her over him.

Jasmine stiffened, then struggled frantical y, but he held her firmly to the hard, naked length of his body. "Let me go or I'l scream," she threatened tensely.

"You can scream al you want to," he said low, "but somehow I don't think you wil ."

She renewed her struggles until the nightgown was in shreds, but she was stil pinioned against the hard length of him. He relaxed his fierce hold upon her, and she raised her head from his chest and gazed into the searing green flame of his smoldering eyes.

"We are husband and wife, Jasmine. There is no shame in this, darling." One hand moved up from her waist to cup a heavy, round breast whose taut pink tip had been burning his chest. "Yield to me now, love," he murmured thickly against her throat.

"Falcon, wait!" she cried desperately. Her body wel remembered the pain his great shaft had caused her, and she knew she would do anything to keep him from entering her body again. She could feel his rigid erection pressing into the place where her thigh joined her bel y only scant inches away from its desired goal. She knew she must distance herself from his great weapon. "May I lie beside you?" she pleaded prettily.

Reluctantly his hand uncupped her luscious breast and returned to her waist, then without effort he lifted her to his side and propped himself on his elbow to gaze down at her.

"Don't tremble, love, I'l be gentle, I won't hurt you," he breathed raggedly.

"You hurt me before," she accused, then changed her tone and began to beg. "Don't hurt me again, please don't hurt me."

"Lie stil , darling. I don't want to hurt you, I want to love you," he soothed. "Before that door opens again I intend to make you my wife in every way." She lay stil , stiff, rigid. "Jasmine . . . you are so unearthly fair." His hand caressed her moonlit hair and his lips came down on hers gently, tentatively, savoring the soft pink mouth for which he'd hungered long, but the moment his lips released hers, she turned from him so that her lips and b.r.e.a.s.t.s were out of reach of his hungry mouth. His arms slid around her waist immediately and she realized with dismay that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, indeed al her most intimate parts were open to his exploring hands. Then a new realization dawned. Her bare b.u.t.tocks rested ful against his loins. His manroot was hard and bold against her soft flesh.

He drew in a swift breath each time she squirmed and her bottom caressed the tip of his inflamed shaft. His thumbs caressed her nipples until they were hard as tiny jewels, and she tried to shrink from his touch. "Honey love, I only want to hold you, touch you," he cajoled.

"I-I'l let you hold me ... but, Falcon please . . . don't do the other . . . please?"

An impatient retort was on his lips when he felt the wetness of her tears. His heart and his resolve melted like snow in summer. He cursed himself for the mating he'd forced on her at Gloucester. He saw clearly that from her point of view it had been nothing short of rape. No wonder she begged him never to do it again. He had his work cut out for him if he was to persuade her that an intimate encounter need not be brutal.

With infinite gentleness he turned her over to face him. "My little sweetheart, trust me not to hurt you again. Forgive me for what I forced you to do the other night?" He stroked her hair to what I forced you to do the other night?" He stroked her hair to gentle her and coax her into a response. "Open your legs just a tiny bit for me. I'l just use one finger, I promise. Just relax, darling, and I'l make you tingle."

Jasmine refused to answer him.

"Sweetheart, I know how tiny you are, especial y down there, but I know how to stop it from hurting. I'l make you hot and slippery and I swear I won't mount you until you're completely ready,for me."

Jasmine clenched her fists and thumped them against his hard, bare chest. "No, no, no!" she sobbed.

"I have starved for that which is mine by right of wedlock and I wil have it," he said low, his self-control sorely strained.

"Ah, why did you not let me drink deeply? If I were only half- conscious I might have been able to endure it."

Her words wounded him, ate at his pride. So beautiful yet so cruel. He was deeply stung that a woman would need to get drunk before she could endure him.

Tears spiked her eyelashes and he patiently kissed them away with a tenderness that tore at his heart. He sighed deeply, trying to cool his raging ardor. "Sshh, hush love," he crooned, "I promise I won't do the other if you let me hold you, touch you," he said reluctantly.

Her eyes searched his. "Do you real y promise not to put it into me?"

He smiled and whispered, "I promise not to put it into you if you wil let me have free rein with my hands and my kisses."

After a tense moment she nodded her agreement. He cradled her against him with one strong arm, while his other hand stroked her gently. He chose a nonthreaten-ing place to begin and moved his hand to caress her arm. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each one with reverence, then placed her hand against his chest. She stiffened again as her fingers came into contact with the crisp hair. He told himself her shy reserve would dissolve as they became familiar with each other's bodies. His lips began his kisses at the top of her head, which was wel below his chin, then with loving hands he raised her face to his and brushed his lips across her temples, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, her top lip. Then, forcing her mouth open only slightly, he al owed the tip of his tongue to touch hers with a teasing little darting motion. He must have bestowed a hundred'kisses upon her before he moved on to further intimacy.

Slowly he folded back the cover from their bodies so that he could see her in al her glory, and lifted her higher against the pil ows so that his lips could explore her body. She demurred, pushing her hands against his chest. "Ja.s.sy, you agreed," he said, arching her abdomen up to his mouth to let his tongue play about her navel.

Although he was low in the bed and she was much Although he was low in the bed and she was much higher, she could just reach his shoulders with her hands, but as she pushed at them it had the effect of lowering him further so that his hot mouth now rested at the cleft between her legs.

Surely he wouldn't put his wicked tongue inside her again, she thought wildly. "Falcon, no!" she cried as her worst fears were realized.

"Jasmine, you agreed," he murmured against her hot center.

He parted her lips slightly and al owed just the tip of his tongue to do the same teasing little darting motion it had done when he kissed her mouth.

"I know I didn't agree to this, milord." She gasped and then she remembered that before they were wed he had offered to make love to her with his tongue so that by the time they were married she would be ready for his great manroot. She hadn't real y believed he would do any such wicked thing, the mere talk of it had shocked her to her very soul. But now, again, she realized he expected her to al ow him any wicked fantasy that came into his head. She withdrew from him with her mind so that her body could no longer feel the things he would do to her.

Though their physical bodies touched each other intimately, there was a great gulf that separated them mental y, emotional y, and spiritual y. Falcon knew he must breach that gulf or they would have no kind of marriage. As his hands and mouth grew bolder, his fingers and tongue more intimate, Jasmine withdrew further and further.

Falcon was in a fever of longing. Deep inside, his gut ached from the loveplay that had gone on for hours without reaching its natural conclusion. He cursed himself for promising not to mount her; he should have remembered how painful his swol en shaft would be if he didn't have release. He crouched above her in his great need. His entire body now screamed with the need to release the pent-up desire that surged wildly through him. He straddled her gently and slid his shaft into the val ey between her upthrusting b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then he took the round globes into his hands and squeezed them until his hard erection was sheathed. Jasmine could keep silent no longer. She cried out in low protest, "My lord, what are you doing to me?" Falcon was beyond words. It took only a few thrusts until he was gasping with ecstasy. He had come on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He resisted the urge to ma.s.sage it over her silken skin and instead reached for the shredded black nightgown and gently wiped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the gown and turned away from him, silently outraged.

When Falcon awoke he found his cheek against her hot breast and groaned with the frustration of his situation.

Jasmine opened her eyes and recoiled from him, her accusing look clearly blaming him for obscene things he should never have done.

He shot up from the bed as if she had thrown ice-cold water on him. Naked, he knelt to tend the fire, which had burned to ashes. She averted her gaze from his body and her amethyst eyes widened in horror as she surveyed the remnants of Isabel's night rail. This reminded her that al below thought it had been her wedding night, but there would be no evidence of her virginity upon the sheets.

Jasmine looked about her for something sharp and spotted Falcon's sheathed dagger lying upon his clothes. She moved across the bed and took the knife from its leather sheath. She was shocked by the speed at which Falcon had moved. Her wrist was being crushed by his strong fingers as he demanded quietly, "What the hel are you doing?"

Her lashes swept to her cheeks. Surely he hadn't thought she would stab him in the back? Actual y, his thought had been for her. Surely she wouldn't harm herself rather than submit to him?

She faltered, "I-we-they wil expect blood upon the sheets."

He took the dagger from her and without a word made a smal slit in his thumb and squeezed half a dozen drops of blood from it. By the legs of G.o.d, he couldn't endure another night like the last. They would have to leave today. If they had to spend more time under the indulgent noses of their avid audience, touching in bed but not enjoying intercourse he would go mad. He went to the window and sighed with relief, for it had begun to snow in the night. They would have to leave today to ensure that they got through the mountain pa.s.ses before they became blocked.

"It has begun to snow so we must leave today." Suddenly he felt he was being cruel to tear her away from the comfort of Chepstow. "Dress warmly, Jasmine, it wil be freezing cold out there. Have a visit with your father while you have the chance."

He slipped on his shirt, pants, and boots. "I'l get Wil iam to give us one of his campaign tents. I don't want you sleeping out in the open."

Jasmine shivered and moved down in the bed to the lovely warm place Falcon's body had recently vacated. How could she face a journey through the snow? She sighed deeply. It would be easier than another night where their every whisper might be overheard.