The Falcon and the Flower Read Online Free PDF

brooked no disobedience.
    Her face fell with disappointment, then her eyes glittered with anger. “You do not come with us, Lord de Burgh?” The other rumors must be true, she thought. He is going to England to wed Salisbury’s daughter. Her heart twisted with bitterness. She had vowed to own a piece of this magnificent man, but what chance did she have if he was off to court an Englishwoman? “Is it true the king is dead?” she demanded, knowing she would not be sharing de Burgh’s bed this night or for many nights to come.
    “That is of no concern to you, Morganna. What is of concern is your behavior.” Falcon turned his head to Gervase. “If she disobeys you, take away her pony and make her walk.”
    She threw up her head proudly. “I could walk! To England and back if necessary! I’ve climbed Welsh mountains all my life.”
    “You’d be so thin and scrawny, your legs so well muscled, what good would you be in bed? A man could get more pleasure from buggering his page!” Falcon said with contempt.
    Gervase was impressed at the way de Burgh’s words had silenced the girl and drained away her arrogance, leaving only meekness in its stead. However, he had his doubts she would be quite so docile once de Burgh’s razor-edged tongue was on its way to England.

Chapter 3
    Jasmine had heard Meg and the other girls giggling and whispering for a week and she had a pretty good notion what it was all about. May Day meant a celebration of spring rites that harkened back to pagan times and the old religion. However, Jasmine had been aware for years now that there was more to it than innocent maypole dancing in the village and choosing a May queen.
    It was whispered that at Stonehenge, under cover of darkness, a bacchanalia took place. When Meg came to change her bed linen, Jasmine questioned her. “Meg, I wonder what it’s like at Stonehenge?”
    Meg blushed and said primly, “I don’t know, my lady, I’ve never seen the goings-on.”
    “But you must have heard things,” Jasmine pressed. “What goes on?”
    “Well … ’t is said there is a feast and dancing. They light bonfires and dance about the flames.”
    “I should like to go,” Jasmine said with conviction.
    Meg lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Me too, my lady. I’m planning to slip out and join in the fun.”
    Estelle was worried about the spring rites that took place amid the ancient Druid stones. She knew exactly what went on under cover of darkness, and the results would be a bumper crop of swollen bellies. The peasants could be counted on to obey their basest instincts, then come crying to her once the seeds had been sown. She sighed, knowing she could not turn the tide against human nature, but she would do what she could to prevent the young maids of the manor from attending the revels. She and Jasmine had taken part in the May Day holidaywith the villagers, joining in the maypole dancing and crowning the buxom lass chosen as Queen of the May, but she whisked her charges back to the manor house before dusk had fallen and took Meg aside to give her extra duties.
    “I want you to be sure to stay with Lady Jasmine until she falls asleep tonight. I think she has looked very peaked lately, and she is not robust at the best of times. Make sure she drinks lots of the mead and honey tonight. It is a potion that will make her glow with health and beauty.”
    Meg bobbed a curtsey, resenting the restricting duty with which Lady Estelle had charged her. She came tight-lipped to Jasmine’s bedchamber and made a halfhearted attempt to set it in order as the long minutes stretched into an hour.
    Jasmine had a difficult time concealing her amusement; she knew Meg had been sent to her as a jailer of sorts. Jasmine watched as the maid poured her a goblet of honeyed mead and held it out to her. Suddenly she became aware of an unusual aroma. She surreptitiously sniffed the mead and realized Estelle had laced it with poppy. A secret smile turned