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Authors: K. R. Richards

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BOOK: Lord of the Abbey
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Lyon contributed, “I daresay, I can no longer believe it is just some greedy local wishing to find some treasure.”

 

“I agree. And the thought came to me, that in most situations like this, the gentlemen in charge might send the ladies involved to safety after a string of such incidents. Perhaps another house, or to London. Far removed from danger.” Charlie pondered a moment then continued, “Perhaps someone wants the ladies removed. Possibly so the house would be left empty, or mayhap to somehow intercept them on their journey to safety.”

 

“You’ve a good point, Charlie. Perhaps Dalworth and Heathcote are in partnership again. I wanted their situations checked, though I did not think they were likely responsible for the theft.” Quickly Harry filled in Lyon and Micah on Rowena’s history and the arranged marriage of Heathcote’s sister, Lady Rowena, to Dalworth.

 

Sir John enlightened Charlie earlier in the day. Charlie added a few tidbits that were told to him by Rowena’s elderly protector. “Sir John also mentioned he felt Dalworth forced himself upon Rowena. In the next few days we should hear something from Elveston and Wyldhurst regarding Dalworth and Heathcote,” Charlie supplied.

 

“Tomorrow morning, we need to reread the letters of William Dulac again. I still say this is tied to the Abbey. You know as well as I do, Harry, that Glastonbury was much more important than later history records.” Micah studied the empty glass in his hand. “I’m wondering if these may be
professionals
of a sort. Men similar to us, looking for the lost secrets of this Abbey just as we are.”

 

“Whoever it is, and whatever they want, they were not remiss in showing themselves to us,” Lyon pointed out.

 

“No. Whoever they are, they mean business. So our first and foremost concern has to be the safety of Rowena, Frances and Sir John,” Harry stated. “For now, I, personally, feel safer with the ladies here among us. If anything else occurs, we may have to remove them, or bring in more of our members.”

 

“I was thinking it’s not a bad idea to bring in more members to help guard our find and to help with the Faire and Ball. I fear we will be spread too thin otherwise.” Micah rose and stretched.

 

“Good idea. I agree, Micah.” Harry nodded.

 

“I’ll ride over to the Grange tomorrow and send some more letters,” Charlie offered. “Wyldhurst is fairly close.”

 

“Yes. Wyldhurst,” Harry added, “and perhaps our old friend, Trevan Chynoweth, he’s probably back in Cornwall by now. Trevan was in London when I left. He has many relatives, all capable of helping us here. He may be able to bring an entire contingent from Cornwall. I’d like Elveston too if possible. Oh, and definitely Newt. Good God, how could I forget Newt! What of Sinclair and Fitzlewis? Those two are fairly close in Devon.”

 

“Chynoweth fights like ten men, and if he brings his family, which in all truth is half of Cornwall, we will be in fine shape. And I agree! Let’s hope we can get Newt, for there is no one as observant or lethal as he is.” Micah nodded.

 

“I know Fitzlewis is at home, but his sister, Lady Elizabeth, took a nasty tumble from a horse just as I left Devon. I don’t know as he’d leave her alone. Sinclair was up North, at the Lakes visiting his deceased wife’s family with his daughter, last I heard. But the rest of them should be available,” Charlie added.

 

“Lady Elizabeth’s injuries are not serious are they?” Micah asked in concern.

 

“I do not think so, but her ankle was sprained, so she is unable to get around,” Charlie provided.

 

Harry wondered at Micah’s interest in Lady Elizabeth Darrington, but said nothing.

 

The gentlemen’s conversation turned to details and planning of the Faire at the Abbey. That event would be their primary responsibility. Since the event was two weeks away, they returned to the library table and continued putting their plans to paper.

 

 

 

After a breakfast filled with lively conversation about the Faire and Ball, Rowena followed her aunt from the room.

 

“The morning is fine, dear. You have not walked up the Tor in days. I know how you like your exercise. I’m sure one of the gentlemen will escort you.”

 

“After yesterday, I’m not certain that is such a good idea, Aunt Frances. I would love a walk, though.”

 

“Then you shall take your walk, Lady Rowena,” Micah spoke and looked to Harry. “Charlie and Lyon must go to town, but Harry and I will be happy to join you.”

 

Harry nearly puffed with pride when Rowena looked to him expectantly.
Besotted mooncalf
. That was what Micah called him last night. Hmm? What was it about the Angel that made him lose all semblance of self-control. “The Tor is close, nearly behind your garden. I think we will be perfectly safe. I haven’t walked up the Tor in years and look forward to the exercise, Lady Rowena.”

 

Once again, Rowena changed in an amazingly short amount of time. She wore her sturdy half boots beneath her walking dress of dove gray that was smartly trimmed in black. Though she often times left off a bonnet when walking up the Tor by herself, she tied one on for propriety’s sake today.

 

“It’s easier to go through the garden,” Rowena informed her escorts as she led them out the door that led to the back garden from the drawing room. “The back way up the Tor is much steeper. I generally walk around to the side and head up to the tower.”

 

“Then that is what we shall do.” Harry smiled down at her.

 

Micah lagged behind them in the garden, giving some of the early blooming bulbs his attention. Then he walked over to inspect the small pond.

 

Harry gave Rowena his arm. He helped her over the stile and to the other side of the garden wall.

 

“Did you sleep well, Rowena?”

 

“Fairly well, Harry. I am quite concerned for Aunt Frances and Sir John. Neither one of them could hold up well against men like those that pursued us yesterday.”

 

“Do not worry, Rowena, though I will say it is always a good idea to be cautious until we discover what this is about. I swear to you, I will not let any harm come to you, your aunt nor Sir John. Nor would Lyon, Micah or Charlie. I do not plan to leave any of you in the house alone.”

 

“Thank you, Harry.” Rowena did believe him. Harry and his friends had more than proven that they were concerned for all of their safety the day before at St. Bridget’s Chapel.

 

When they neared the Tor, Micah caught up to them, and lagged behind them a ways.

 

“I’ve never walked up the Tor, Harry. When I last visited you in Glastonbury five years ago it rained nearly every day if you remember. So, tell me, can you feel the energy when you walk the Tor, Lady Rowena?” Micah inquired.

 

Rowena never talked of such things. Barely even with Aunt Frances. “Y-yes.” She turned her head to peer curiously at Micah. “It’s very strong, especially in the tower.” She turned back and looked up to Harry curiously. “Have you felt the energy of the Tor, Harry?”

 

“Yes. Yes, I have. Very much so, Rowena.” He was feeling it now, or mayhap it was something else he was feeling. Something caused by the golden-haired Angel smiling up at him.

 

Rowena noticed he used the familiar in front of his friend. She looked to Micah who either hadn’t noticed or chose not to react.

 

“Did either one of you feel the energy when the
ampullae
were opened last night?” For once in her life, Rowena felt free to ask such a question. She never had anyone to talk with about such things. It was rather liberating to be able to speak freely with Micah and Harry.

 

“Absolutely. It was very strong.” Harry watched as Rowena visibly relaxed in their company.

 

“I felt it as well. Very powerful.” Micah then asked, “And what of the angel who guards the tower, have you seen him, Lady Rowena?”

 

Feeling shy, Rowena only nodded at first. Then she forced herself to answer. “St. Michael? Yes. Several times. Always inside the tower.” She looked to Harry, “Have you seen him on any of your trips up the Tor, Harry?”

 

“I thought I did once. I was a boy. My brother and oldest sister were with me, and the vision vanished as soon as I realized who it was. My siblings did not see him. So, I’ve often wondered if it was real or just a young boy’s imagination. I had long heard the stories about the sightings of St. Michael on the Tor.”

 

“Mayhap we’ll see him today,” Micah posed.

 

“I hope so!” Rowena smiled brightly at Micah.

 

There was a fairly well worn path up the side, not as well defined as the path coming up the designated front, or Glastonbury town side of the Tor.

 

“Is this your path that’s been worn in the ground?” Harry gently teased her.

 

“I think it might be,” Rowena confessed. “I’m rather a creature of habit, I fear.”

 

“We all have our habits, Rowena.” He pointed to the evidence of her customary path before them. “Some day they shall say, ‘And this is the path walked by Lady Rowena Locke up to the Tor every day.’ And your legend shall then be preserved in history.”
He would rather the future legends call her Rowena Bellingham, Lady Glaston.

 

Rowena laughed, genuinely amused. “I highly doubt that, Harry. Spinsters never make history!”

 

“Only when said spinsters cease to remain spinsters and marry!” Micah mentioned non-chalantly. “Then they are much talked about! Least wise in London they are.”

 

Rowena nodded and gave a little laugh. “That is true, Micah!”

 

“You speak of spinsters as old crones with bent backs and warts upon their faces, Rowena. I do not find this to be true in your case.” Harry’s tone grew playful, “Though there may be the beginnings of a wart on the end of your nose, just there,” he pointed, “though I cannot say for certain.”

 

Rowena slapped at Harry’s hand playfully. “I do not have a wart on my nose!”

 

He captured her hand and tucked it once again into the crook of his arm.

 

The wind picked up. But wind on the Tor was not uncommon. Rowena moved her free hand to adjust her bonnet more securely as they continued their ascent up the ancient mound. It was a steep climb, but one she found more invigorating than tiresome.

 

“I’ve heard stories of strange lights seen upon the Tor,” Micah mentioned.

 

“I’ve only seen unexplained lights twice.” Rowena looked to Micah. “The second time was about three months ago. It did appear there were several small lights moving slowly about the Tor. A year or more ago, I did see an incredible violet, bluish light emanating from the Tower at night. It was incredibly bright. On Beltane and Samhain, I’ve seen lights, but they’re clearly bonfires. There are a few secret ‘pagans’ in town. In truth, I’m fascinated by all the pagan and druidic history of the Tor.”

 

“Beltane, really? It’s not far away. Then in several weeks time, on May Day Eve, you and I will walk up the Tor at night and witness the bonfires up close,” Harry proposed.

 

“Truly? Oh, Harry, I’ve always wanted to walk up when the bonfires were burning!” Rowena favored him with a delighted smile.

 

“Then we shall.” Harry realized then, there was almost nothing he would deny his Angel. Especially when she smiled at him that way.

 

The three chatted happily for a time.

 

Micah slowed down. “You two go on. I’ll join you in a moment. The view is fantastic from here. It’s amazing what you can see from up here. The distance one can see is incredible! I think that’s Cadbury Hill over there. And though I cannot see Templecombe or my home, it lies not too far beyond the hill fort at Cadbury. Amazing that one can see so far from up here. Of course, I can see the Tor from Cadbury. I know for I visit it often.”

 

“Really, Micah? Then you are truly not far from Glastonbury,” Rowena mused.

 

“Not far at all. I’m actually on the far side of Templecombe.”

 


Let’s go into the tower, shall we, Rowena?” Harry motioned to the lone tower of St. Michael.

 

“Yes, Harry.” Rowena turned to look at him. Smiled sweetly. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Would he kiss her? She hoped so. His eyes were dark and intense, just as they had been yesterday, before and after he kissed her. Rowena stopped in the midst of the expanse of the roofless tower. They were well out of Micah’s view. She turned toward Harry. She loosened the ties of her bonnet and let it fall to hang back on her shoulders. She placed her hands on his chest. She looked up into the depths of his fathomless brown eyes.

BOOK: Lord of the Abbey
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