Lord of the Abbey (37 page)

“
Let’s get you back down to the Manor, Lady Rowena. Before someone takes notice of us up here and decides to shoot at us,” Trevan suggested.

Nodding his agreement, Harry led Rowena from the tower.

Harry was concerned about her. Rowena seemed rather detached and remained eerily silent. Neither did she seem to be listening to the conversation around her. In truth, she seemed to be simply concentrating on taking steps, and making her way down the Tor. Harry helped her when he felt it too steep for her to navigate in her seemingly dazed state. Harry lifted her over the stile and literally handed her to Trevan, for she appeared to be unable climb up and over it on her own. Rowena’s limbs seemed limp, her face remained expressionless.

Once they reached Stonedown, it was Trevan Chynoweth who sent for some fresh bread and a glass of wine for the glowing but definitely dazed lady.

Harry, Micah and Trevan ushered her into the drawing room to a comfortable chair. It was Trevan who took the tray from the servant. He set it down, broke off a piece of bread and offered it to Rowena. “Eat this, lass. ‘Tis of the grains of the earth. You need to be grounded after such a spiritual experience. Then, drink the wine, the fruit of the earth.”

Rowena did as she was bid, never saying a word. She chewed the first piece of bread. Trevan handed another larger piece of bread to her, which she wordlessly accepted. Harry handed her the wine glass. She drank long.

Harry felt more relieved when healthy color and normal expression returned to his Lady’s face.

“
How did you know?” Rowena looked to Trevan.

The large Cornishman said, “The same Archangel favors sites in Cornwall, as well, Lady Rowena. I’ve seen him once or twice, myself. I believe he prefers Cornwall to Glastonbury, though.” He gave her a teasing wink. He continued in a more serious tone, “The vibration of spirits, what some call ghosts, are higher than ours, Lady Rowena. The vibration of angels, much more so. It takes awhile for our bodies to adjust after such an encounter. The bread and wine help. Our vibrations must be lowered from the heightened rate they are increased to when we see an angel. The grounding helps this to occur.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Trevan.” She looked to Harry. “I must make Lyon’s tea, now.”

Harry and the other gentlemen followed her to the kitchens and back to the parlour, turned sick room. Lyon remained unconscious, and though not thrashing as he was earlier, was still fevered. She had poured the contents of the lustrous silk violet bag into the boiling teapot before leaving the kitchen, so it could steep. A fragrant and wondrous scent filled the parlour as she deposited the tray on a table near Lyon’s bed. Mrs. Brimble left upon their arrival. Rowena laid the empty bag on the table at Lyon’s bedside.

“
What is that scent?” Micah whispered. “Not rose, not lavender, not rosemary. But it’s sweet and fresh, very enticing and invigorating.”

None could name the scent. Not even Rowena.

Harry and Micah helped Rowena get the tea down Lyon. Rowena then wished to wash the wound with a mixture of water from the two wells, the white, or White Spring and the red, or Chalice Well, also called the Blood Spring. She turned to put the bowl and sponge back on the table, and accidently knocked the violet silk bag given her by Archangel Michael to the floor.

A glint of silver flashed as something popped from the bag and rested upon the colorful Turkish carpet. Rowena bent and retrieved it with shaking fingers. She was so focused on tending Lyon she forgot the Archangel told her there was something in the bag for her.

Closer observation proved the item to be a silver pendant in the shape of a sword and encrusted with tiny sapphires and diamonds. There was a larger sapphire centered on the hilt of the tiny sword. It was attached to a silver chain, so fine and dainty, it too glittered like diamonds.

“
The sword of St. Michael!” Harry breathed in awe.

“
To win the fight between good and evil. Also a symbol of truth, justice and protection,” Micah whispered.

“
Indeed lass, the symbol of the Archangel’s protection! For you.” Trevan whistled low.

The chain was long enough to fit over her head. Rowena donned it, felt the power of it. Felt the love with which the gift was given, felt protected. She touched the pendant again, turned it over in her hand. Saw the words,
Quis ut Deus
etched in a fine script on the backside of the pendant. “Who is like God.” She read aloud. She smiled. She looked to Micah, “I believe, Micah, you are in possession of an extra knife you will give me. And that you will teach me to use it.”

“
Aye, he is. And he’s the one to teach you about knives. There’s not one of us who can throw one better. And don’t forget that I’ll teach you to knock a big man, like Harry here for instance, on his arse in one swift move,” Trevan said boisterously, giving Harry a wink. “Maybe it’ll come in handy for you some day, eh?” Trevan arched an eyebrow at her.

Harry suggested, “Then, let’s leave Lyon to Charlie’s care, for he seems to be resting quietly now. You can remove to the garden and begin Lady Rowena’s training. I’ll come out for a spell. The day is warm and fine. Then I must finish organizing everything.” Harry didn’t say what he was organizing. Every man present knew. They were working diligently to have the most comprehensive plan possible in place for Rowena’s protection.

Harry wished he were present for all of Rowena’s training. As it was, he spent most of the day ensconced in the library, going over detail, after detail of defense for Stonedown, and the plans for the Faire and Ball with those he chose to assist him. He consulted Sir John and Lady Sperring much, about many different things, including the special license Elveston procured for him to marry Rowena in the event it was needed. Harry now felt it was. Sir John and Rowena’s aunt agreed with him.

He allowed Micah and Trevan the charge of his Lady for the afternoon. He occasionally wandered to the window to watch various members of his society, his colleagues and friends and now obviously Rowena’s friends, volunteering to teach her how to defend herself. Each taught her one of their mastered skills, something she needed to know for her own protection.

Though Harry vowed to protect her, and promised he would allow none to harm her, he understood the need for her to learn to defend
herself
. After all, her own blood, her brother, one whom she trusted to protect her, one whom
should have
protected her, allowed her to be beaten and violated.

Harry knew Rowena trusted him, but also understood it would take her a long time to be able to completely trust
anyone
to protect her, even him.

On his frequent visits to the large lancet windows to view his Lady’s progress he witnessed Micah instructing her in the ways of defending herself with a knife, Wyldhurst showing her how to fight dirty. Even Charlie spelled himself from Lyon’s sickbed, to show her how to duck blows and shield her own body.

Harry grinned in amusement as he watched his Angel break a hold and send the Duke of Penrose falling on his arse behind her. Gabriel Chynoweth showed her the best places to strike to cripple or surprise an opponent, so that one might get away. Harry laughed loudly when Rowena, proving an apt pupil, back-kicked Gabriel in a very tender spot, resulting in his doubling over. His comrades worked with her for hours.

Then Newt took her deeper into the garden and showed her how to fire a pistol, for he was the marksman of the group. After about a half hour, Rowena began to hit closer to the marks on the target. After an hour, she was consistently hitting her marks.

The thing that Harry most noticed while checking the progress of her lessons, was that he saw her smiling, visibly watched her confidence returning to her. The woman that greeted him as he escorted her upstairs to bathe and dress for dinner, though sweaty, grimy and exhausted, no longer looked haunted by fear. She spent many hours of that day slaying her demons and emerged victorious. Harry spent the day planning and plotting so she would never have to face those particular demons again.

By the time Stonedown’s guests met in the dining room that evening, a great amount of progress had been made.

Elveston, having been tended by the doctor and Lady Rowena, rested the full afternoon and felt well enough to dress and join them for the meal. The Doctor ordered him to rest for several days. His ribs were badly bruised.

Lyon seemed to be sleeping easier, his fever breaking in the early afternoon. He woke occasionally, falling back into slumber quickly. Harry, Micah and Rowena felt better, that even though his condition had now improved, they sent word to his mother and sister in London that morning just past dawn.

Trevan’s relatives accomplished some major work on digging out and shoring up the tunnel found near the foundation of St. Dunstan’s Chapel. They took over Lyon’s duties of the planning of the Faire. They hoped the tunnel would be shored up enough for them to explore it, and look for the chamber in the next few days.

Trevan’s second cousin’s husband, John Michelmore, was now put up at the George and Pilgrim, pretending to be a man of business, resting in Glastonbury for a few days before continuing on a long journey north.

Wyldhurst and Newt slept some during the afternoon. The Trevelyan’s along with Deveril Pendarves and Rheese Carlyon took over guard duty in the gallery. All five of the Chynoweth’s, Trevan, his two brothers and two cousins helped Harry go through every detail of what they faced, whom of their men should be responsible for what, and tried to pin-point exactly how Dalworth and his Glastonbury accomplice, most-likely Percy Davitt they concluded, would move forward.

Harry bathed alone in his room, tortured with the knowledge that his beautiful Lady sat naked in a tub right next door.

Micah cleaned up early, and was now down in the cellars with some of the Chynoweths, looking for a tunnel opening.

After Harry dressed, he waited outside Rowena’s room. When she exited, he sucked in his breath at the vision before him. She was dressed in yet another exquisitely cut gown, this one of shimmering midnight blue silk. The gown was embroidered with sparkling silver thread and seed pearls around the very tantalizing neckline which revealed the uppermost curves of her full creamy breasts, while the gown hugged the rest of her torso, accentuating her slender waist, and outlining her curvaceous hips before falling in voluminous folds to the silver embroidered hem. The sapphire and diamond encrusted sword of St. Michael hung on its dainty chain, resting in the valley between her breasts.

When Rowena saw Harry’s gaze linger at her breasts, she felt a tingle of warmth, but also felt her old self-consciousness creeping in. She normally did not wear gowns cut so low, hadn’t since the incident with Dalworth. “Is it too much, Harry?” Her cheeks colored slightly. Her hand went instinctively to cover the tops of her breasts revealed by the low décolleté.

He took her hands in his, spreading her arms wide as he smiled in approval. “No, you look absolutely beautiful, Rowena. Quite stunning. I am merely admiring your breasts for I was remembering how they felt in my mouth and hands last night, among other things. I look forward to tonight when I can reacquaint myself with such pleasures again.”

“
So you will come to me tonight, even with the household bursting at the seams with guests.” Rowena smiled.

“
Tonight. Every night, if it is your wish, my sweet. I shall most willingly accommodate you.” His hand moved to the small of her back, his fingers dipping lower to brush the tops of the curves of her very fine derrière. Another fond memory from the previous night. He sighed, reluctantly assumed his role as gentleman, offering his arm to escort her. It would not do to bring her flushed, with swollen lips, and a rumpled gown to Lady Sperring’s table for all to see.

“
It is my most fervent wish that you do come to me tonight and every other, Harry.”

She gifted Harry with an inviting smile which brought a rush of heat to his groin. He decided he rather liked Rowena’s seductive side.

“
I am sure there is much more to learn about…” Her cheeks stained.

“
There is indeed, Rowena. I shall be happy to instruct you.” He imagined her astride and riding him, and his cock stirred to life. It was going to be another long night of torture, waiting for later when he could be alone with Rowena, his Angel, whose body was more magnificent than that of Botticelli’s Venus.

“
We need to find another clue,” Micah sighed, the disappointment evident in his tone, when the gentlemen who were not on guard duty rejoined the ladies in the drawing room. “The Chynoweth’s and I searched the cellars and the spring alcove and could find no sign of a door or secret passage this afternoon. We even moved all of the barrels, crates and boxes stacked in the older cellar.”