Lords of Honor

by K. R. Richards

  “Harry!” Rowena rushed through the door Micah held open and into her husband’s arms.

  Harry hugged her to him. “Rowena, this is my brother, George.”

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, my Lady. Mother and Caroline have been singing your praises since they arrived in Devon.”

  “You two resemble one another a great deal…” Rowena walked off between Harry and his brother George.

  Sophia rushed into Lyon’s open arms, a relieved smile on her face.

  Micah wondered where his wife was. He went downstairs. “Libby?”

  His wife held the basket of food in her hand. Grace walked by him and went up the stairs.

  Micah took the basket from Libby. He drew her into his arms and kissed her. He let his forehead rest against hers. “Are you well, sweetheart?”

  “Yes, now I am, Micah. I must confess I was worried.”

  “I was worried too, sweetheart. Come on, Trevan is here, he’s been asking for you. He wants to see his favorite adopted sister!”

  Libby smiled as she entwined her fingers in Micah’s. They walked upstairs side by side.

  “Lady Wincanton!”

  Trevan was speaking to Harry and Rowena when Libby and Micah entered the largest room of the old farmhouse. As soon as he saw Libby, the Duke left his party and headed straight toward her.

  Feeling suddenly self-conscious about her wound, Libby lowered her face.

  Trevan slipped his large hand beneath her chin and tilted her face upward. “Now I’ll have none of that, Elizabeth. Your face is far too beautiful to hide away,” Trevan whispered. He studied her wound intently. “’Tis healing nicely, Libby. Don’t you worry, that scar will fade away to nothing very soon. The important thing is you are alive and back with your husband as you should be. And there still is not a more beautiful woman in all of Devon and now Somerset than you!” Trevan gave her a wink. He continued, “Mother, Tamsin and Tressa bade me to give you their love and their congratulations on your marriage. They are anxious for you and your husband to return to Cornwall for a visit.”

  “Thank you, Trevan.” Libby couldn’t help but give the Cornishman a warm smile. “You must tell them I am eager to see them as well.” She took Micah’s hand and smiled up at him.

  “I will. Now, let’s get everyone back down the hill and make haste to London. We’re like sitting ducks upon the road! Lady Marston, if you’ll allow me,” Trevan offered Grace his arm.

  Trevan led Lady Marston down the hill as he and Micah conversed.

  “Did some of the Brown Coats retreat?” Micah saw Trevan’s men picking up some bodies along the hillside and moving them.

  “Aye, a good twenty five or thirty of them turned and ran. We took about eight wounded as prisoners. There’s at least fifteen dead, probably more. That’s just the number I counted on the way up the hill. We’ll bring the prisoners to Wychcombe House and lock them up in the cellar and question them. My only concern now is that the Brown Coats will wait along the road and attack again.”

  Micah nodded. He moved his hand to the small of Libby’s back as she turned to him with questioning sapphire eyes. He led her down the hill.

  Micah opened the door when they reached the carriage to find Lyon and Sophia already inside. They were locked in an embrace and sharing a passionate kiss. He noted Lyon’s hand was resting on Sophia’s bodice. Micah cleared his throat purposely. “Lyon, we’re coming in now.”

  Lyon chuckled. “Sorry. We found ourselves alone and seized the moment. We’re still newlyweds!” Lyon and Sophia righted themselves quickly as they grinned at one another.

  “As are we.” Micah handed Libby up while Trevan assisted Grace. Micah remained just outside the carriage to speak with Trevan.

  Trevan grinned at Lyon. He scanned the area as if searching for someone. “Where’s the little Pixie? Wasn’t she riding with you as well?”

  “Yes. But no doubt she is with Harry’s family sharing their news.”

  “News?”

  Micah smiled. “Rowena is in the family way.”

  Trevan grinned broadly at Micah. His bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “I should have put money on that wager I made back in Glastonbury. I knew it wouldn’t take long the rate Harry was going.” Trevan lowered his voice to a whisper, “And you, Micah, are you keeping up with Harry? I’ve no doubt that Lyon is!”

  Micah’s only answer before climbing in the carriage was a crooked grin.

  “I’ll find Lady Glaston and get her in the carriage. We need to make haste. We need to get as far as we can while there’s daylight left. The closer we get to London, the better I’ll feel. Once darkness comes, we’re in more danger.” Trevan walked off.

  Libby and Sophia exchanged solemn glances while their husbands simultaneously put their arms about their wives and rubbed their shoulders to try and ease their worry. Grace sat alone. She wondered how Owen was faring, and if he’d found Alice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Someone knocked.

  Owen and Gabriel both quietly picked up their pistols and walked toward the door.

  “Who is there?” Gabriel asked.

  “It’s Charlie.”

  “Have to do better than that,” Owen wasn’t convinced.

  “Owen, it’s your neighbor. Open up the damn door. I’ve got news!”

  Gabriel grinned. He opened the door.

  Charlie was dirty and grimy. He appeared to be tired. “I was able to hide our items. Some Brown Coats caught up to me and followed me shortly after. I lost them and managed to sneak up on the three they left behind to continue to search for me. I surprised two of them and took them out. The remaining one talked. I am fairly certain I know where little Alice is.”

  “Where?” Owen asked.

  “In a warehouse near the docks. I haven’t been there yet. I know the location. I came to get you first. I suggest we go have a look and formulate a plan,” Charlie sat at the table.

  “I’ll send for Pendarves and Carlyon. While we wait, we’ll take a meal and a pint.” Gabriel moved to the desk to write a note.

  “There’s six of them.” Owen lowered himself from the crate he stood upon to peek through the high window.

  “There are five of us, so it’s even,” Deveril Pendarves grinned and shrugged nonchalantly.

  “I’ll take out the big one outside the door,” Rheese Carlyon removed a long blade from his boot and tucked it into the sleeve of his coat.

  Owen nodded. “We’ll slip in after you.”

  “We’ll take the others. Owen, you get your daughter.” Gabriel said.

  Owen nodded. “You can count on that. I think she is sleeping. If it is her in the room I peered into first. It is so dark inside the room I could not see very well.”

  “Now?” Carlyon asked.

  “No. I’m going to contact Alice first,” Gabriel said as he removed the doll from his coat pocket. He held it, closed his eyes and slid through the veil.

  “Alice? It’s Gabriel.”

  “Mr. Gabe-rell? It’s dark. I don’t yike the dark.”

  “We’re coming to get you, moppet. A very nice man named Owen will come for you. He’ll have your dolly. We will bring you outside and take you to your mama! Don’t tell anyone, sweeting. It’s a surprise. Stay awake if you can.”

  “Uh huh. Come soon, Mr. Gabe-rell, it’s dark.”

  “I’ll see you very soon, Alice.”

  Gabriel handed the doll to Owen. “I told her you would bring her dolly.”

  Owen slipped the doll into the large pocket inside his coat. “Let’s go.”

  There was only one tense moment inside the warehouse. It was when they discovered there were seven men on guard instead of six. Owen easily dispatched the charging newcomer with a knife to the throat. He found a locked door in the location he suspected Alice was being held.

  He knocked. “Alice?”

  “Y-yes…” came a small little voice.

  “I am Owen. I’m coming to get you so we can take y
ou to your Mama. I have your dolly. Stay away from the door, sweeting. I must kick it open.”

  “Yes. I’m in my bed. I don’t yike the dark.”

  “I’m coming to get you, Alice.” Owen called before he gave a hard kick that flung the door wide open.

  “Mr. Owen?”

  “Alice?” Owen allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He saw a little figure huddled on the bed. He watched her sit up.

  “Is Mr. Gabe-rell here?”

  “Yes, Alice. Mr. Gabriel is here, sweeting. I have your Dolly with me.”

  “And my mama?”

  “You will see your mama later tonight, Alice.”

  Owen bent and scooped up the child. He pressed her close against him. He kissed her tousled hair, and turned to leave.

  He felt inside his coat with his free hand and produced her dolly.

  He saw the face of his daughter for the first time as he stepped into the dim light of the main warehouse room. Despite the grime and dirt smeared on her cheeks he saw how very beautiful she was. He looked into dark blue eyes that matched the color of his own. Owen saw perfect pearly white teeth when she smiled at her dolly. She had her mother’s oval face and her hair was neither as golden brown as her mother’s nor as dark as his. The color was a rich, dark brown with a slightly reddish cast to it. She did have her mother’s dimples. Her lips were more reddish than pink, as his sister Libby’s were. Alice gave him a wide, happy smile that almost reduced him to tears. “Where we going, Mr. Owen?”

  “Alice!” Gabriel smiled at her as he came up beside Owen. “Keep moving Owen. We need to get far away from here.”

  “Mr. Gabe-rell?” Alice smiled at him. “I knowed your voice.” She looked at Gabriel and grinned widely.

  “Yes, Alice, it’s me, Gabriel.” Gabriel leaned close enough to kiss the top of her head. “I’m so glad we found you, moppet.”

  “You are Mr. Owen?” Alice pointed at Owen. “Mr. Gabe-rell said you would bring my dolly. Thank you for bringing my dolly, Mr. Owen. Where is Mama?”

  “You’ll see your Mama very soon, sweeting.” Owen’s voice was thick. There was a lump in his throat. He fell madly in love with his daughter in a matter of seconds. He could never deny her anything. He knew at that moment he would give his life to keep her safe. He hoped Grace’s temper had cooled. He felt his first pang of regret for making certain she stayed behind with the others in Templecombe. It would be hours before she knew her daughter was safe. He prayed she would forgive him. “Let’s stop by The Pilchard, collect our things and get to Wychcombe House.” Owen said as he held his daughter tightly against him.

  The party from Templecombe had not yet arrived at Wychcombe House. He, Gabriel and Charlie were informed Lord Chilcompton had already retired for the evening. Owen and Gabriel sat with Alice while she ate. Owen stayed nearby while she was bathed and dressed in a child’s nightdress borrowed from one of the servant’s children. He instructed Fiske to make certain Lady Marston came straight to her chamber upon her arrival. Owen took Alice and lay atop the bed beside his daughter. He talked to her until her eyelids fluttered closed and just watched his daughter sleep for another hour or more. He was entranced by his daughter’s sweetness and her beauty.

  “What, who?” Grace nearly shrieked and almost dropped the candlestick she carried into the room. It was a shock to see someone in the bed. Perhaps the butler led her to the wrong room, he was an aged fellow. She calmed somewhat when she realized it was Owen in her bed, although it surprised her to see him there! She nearly shrieked with joy when she realized he held a small bundle in his arms. With dark curly hair!

  “Alice! Owen! Oh my God!” she began to cry.

  Owen’s eyes fluttered open. He smiled when he saw Grace.

  Grace came and sat on the edge of the bed. She set the candle on the table. She gazed at her daughter sleeping in her true father’s arms. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.

  “Do you want me to wake her, Grace?” Owen whispered.

  “No, oh, she looks exhausted. Let her sleep, Owen.” Grace bent and kissed her daughter’s cheek.

  Owen carefully sat up. He left his precious daughter sleeping upon the bed. He turned to Grace. He wanted to pull her into his arms. He didn’t. She needed time. Her eyes were focused on their babe she raised alone for three years. Owen rose from the bed.

  Grace did as well. “Thank you, Owen. Thank you.” Grace threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “I can never repay you. I can never thank you enough.”

  “Grace, Alice is my daughter too. There is no need to repay me. I did it for all three of us. I want to be a part of her life, Grace. I want to be her Papa,” Owen allowed himself to embrace the only woman he had ever loved.

  Grace drew back and gazed into Owen’s eyes. “Of course, Owen. You shall be.” She smiled up at him through her tears.

  Owen’s fingers caressed her cheek. He bent and kissed her tenderly upon the lips. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning, Grace. You’re weary from a long day of traveling, and you probably haven’t slept much since Alice was taken from you. Think on this tonight, Grace. I love you. I never stopped loving you. I want you to marry me. We three will be the family we were meant to be.”

  “I don’t have to think about it, Owen.” Grace said.

  Owen held his breath for a moment and searched her face. He feared what she might say. What if she refused him? “And?” he asked softly.

  “I will marry you, Owen. I never stopped loving you either.”

  He pulled her against him and kissed her passionately. Finally Owen found some control and pulled away. “I must go. You need your rest, Grace. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Stay, Owen. For four years I’ve dreamed of being in your arms again. Please, stay.”

  “Very well.” He nodded. “Yes, I’ll stay, Grace. We shared the same dreams, you and I.”

  Gently, Owen moved his sleeping daughter to the far side of the bed. He remained on the edge of the bed and pulled Grace by her hand. She landed in his lap. They kissed for a long time, their hands roaming, touching, caressing. As their urgency grew, they began to undress one another.

  “Grace, what about Alice? What if she wakes?” Owen whispered as he drew her chemise over her head. His eyes raked over her exquisite torso. Her breasts were fuller than he remembered, and Grace now had the curves of a woman after giving birth to his daughter. He found her to be more beautiful today than she was four years ago.

  “She’ll know her Mama and Papa love one another. Alice will get used to it Owen. She’ll have to. She sneaks into my bedchamber often at night,” she grinned.

  “Then so be it. I’ll have to learn to put my drawers on before I go to sleep every night.” Owen smiled at Grace before he lay her down upon the sheet. He came over her. Touched her and knew she was ready for him. He filled her. “Grace,” he murmured in her ear.

  “Owen, you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of us. Of this.”

  “Probably as many times as I did. We’ve a lot of lost time to make up for, starting now, my dearest Grace.”

  Their words ceased as together they fulfilled their desires and dreams. They joined as one in an age old rhythm and brought one another to the peak of ecstasy. They flew, and drifted back down to earth in one another’s arms as they exchanged soft kisses and whispered words of love to one another.

  Owen woke hours later to find his daughter curled against one side of him, and his love, Grace, on his other. He smiled brightly and placed a kiss to the top of each one of their heads. He knew he must be the happiest man upon the earth at that moment.

  Micah led Libby into the massive dining room of Wychcombe House for breakfast. Since their party was so large, the commodious dining room would get a lot of use during the next week. He was eager to introduce Libby to his grandfather. He already knew from his letters that Chilcompton was enthusiastic to meet the mother of the future Wychcombe heirs, who would be the successors to the titles Viscount Wincanton and the Ea
rl of Chilcompton. His grandfather, the present Earl of Chilcompton, retired long before their weary party arrived after midnight.

  The breakfast was informal and was being served from the sideboards. Many members of their traveling party sat at the two long tables already. Of course, Fiske gave Micah the summons last night that he and his wife were to join his Grandfather at nine o’clock sharp this morning.

  “You are late, Micajah! Bring your wife here so I might see her.”

  “Micajah?” Libby gave Micah a curious look.

  “It is my given name, and is an old family name. I loathe it. But I must tell you, I was named after grandfather, so don’t make mention of it. He fancies the name,” Micah whispered. He gave Libby a wink.

  “Come closer, child, my eyes aren’t what they used to be, you know.” The elderly Lord Chilcompton stood from his seat at the head of the very long table. He was tall and thin, a mere few inches shorter than Micah.

  His hands shook slightly as he reached out to take Libby’s hands in his as they neared him.

  “My goodness, you are a beauty, child. A diamond of the first water, I daresay.” He smiled as he peered at her through his spectacles.

  Libby smiled. “Thank you, my Lord.”

  “None of that formality is necessary, child. You’ll call me Grandfather. We are family now.” He adjusted his spectacles and leaned closer to examine her wounded face. “Micajah told me of your wound in his letter. You must not worry about it…what is your name, dear, is it Elizabeth?”

  “Elizabeth, but my family calls me Libby, Grandfather.”

  “I will call you Elizabeth. It’s such a beautiful, regal name, quite perfect for a beauty such as you, my dear. As I was saying Elizabeth, you do not worry about that wound. It will heal in good time. I’ll send for my physician tomorrow, he’s the best in London. He’ll check to make certain you are healing properly.” Lord Chilcompton tenderly patted her hand he still held and turned to Micah, “Is it too soon for him to check her to see if she’s expecting our heir yet?”