Lords of Honor

by K. R. Richards

  “A little soon, grandfather. We’ve been married less than three weeks,” Micah winked at Libby and returned his attention to the elderly Earl.

  Libby blushed.

  “We’ll give it a few more weeks, eh? Elizabeth, dear, come sit next to me so we can get to know one another better.”

  Micah seated his wife. He then took his place across from her.

  The two long tables in the huge room were filling up as members of their party filtered in and made their plates at two long sideboards.

  Lord Chilcompton looked to Micah. “Be a considerate husband and fix your wife a plate, Micajah, whilst she and I converse.”

  “Yes, sir,” Micah smiled at Libby and went to do as he was bid.

  “I daresay, Elizabeth, you and Micajah shall produce the handsomest generation of heirs the Wychcombe family has yet seen. Which one of these gentlemen is Fitzlewis, your brother?”

  “He has not arrived yet, Grandfather. He should be at Wychcombe House soon.”

  “Micajah tells me you’ve brains as well as beauty, eh?”

  “I do study a great deal. Micah, er, Micajah and I have many of the same interests.”

  “It’s good you have brains, Elizabeth. I like intelligent women. They are far more interesting to converse with. He said you are interested in Egyptian artifacts, is this true?”

  Libby saw the elderly man’s eyes light up. “Yes. I love to study and read about Egypt, Grandfather.”

  “You haven’t been to Egypt, Elizabeth?”

  Libby shook her head. “No. I have not.”

  “I’ll send you two on a trip to Egypt after your heirs are born. The children can stay here with me while you travel. Did Micajah tell you of my Egyptian collection?”

  “He did mention it, Grandfather,” Libby grinned.

  “Tomorrow I will show it to you. I will have Micajah bring you to my museum room before I come downstairs. It is more difficult for me to navigate the stairs these few years past. I come down at breakfast and return upstairs in early afternoon for a nap. I dress for dinner and come down the stairs once again. My collection is the result of forty years of collecting and digging in Egypt. I think you will like it, Elizabeth.”

  Libby smiled happily. “I’m certain I will, Grandfather. I am eager to see it.”

  Micah returned with two plates. He set one before his wife. He returned to his seat.

  His Grandfather said, “Micajah, you made an excellent choice in wife. Elizabeth is a treasure. You must always treat her as such.”

  “I agree with you, Grandfather. I shall treasure her always.” Micah winked at Libby.

  She smiled across the table at her husband.

  “Micajah, it is good to have a houseful again, is it not?”

  Micah smiled at Lord Chilcompton, “It is indeed, Grandfather. It has been a long time since the house has been full.”

  “We generally only have Mary, and her husband and children for Christmas. Soon, Elizabeth, you and Micajah shall have children and we shall come closer to a houseful at Christmastime.” Lord Chilcompton beamed as he patted her hand. Chilcompton looked across the room. He squinted and adjusted his spectacles. “Harry, Lyon, is that you just coming in? And Penrose!”

  “Yes, Lord Chilcompton,” Harry called out.

  “Micajah told me you’ve both married. Bring your wives here to me. Your Grace, come sit with us at once!”

  Micah made the introductions between his grandfather and Rowena and Sophia.

  “I say, the three of you rakehells made out, didn’t you. Who would have thought the three of you could have landed such beauties, eh? Sit at this end of the table with us. It has been a long time since we’ve been graced with the presence of such lovely ladies for company in this house. Your Grace, you are the image of your father, I must say!”

  “Thank you, my Lord. I take that as a compliment.” Trevan grinned at Lord Chilcompton.

  “It was meant as a compliment. And what, your Grace, no wife for you as yet?”

  Trevan appeared to be stricken for a moment. He said simply, “No. I have no plans to marry of yet, sir.”

  Rowena looked to Harry in confusion.

  Harry shot her a warning brow. “Leave it be, Rowena,” he whispered in her ear.

  The party fell into easy conversation.

  Fiske approached Micah and bent to whisper something in his ear.

  Micah smiled at Libby. “Libby, Owen and Gabriel found little Alice last evening. They were retired when we arrived. Owen wanted you to know they will be down shortly. Grace and Alice are having a little reunion.”

  Libby smiled happily. She wondered where Grace was this morning. Owen found his daughter, her niece.

  Harry said, “Well, that changes our plans entirely. May we use the library for our meeting after breakfast, Lord Chilcompton?”

  “Absolutely, Harry. I shall keep the ladies company in the drawing room.” Lord Chilcompton nodded his head of thinning white hair. His eyes were similar to Micah’s, though a little greener than gray. They twinkled merrily.

  Libby smiled at him. She liked Micah’s grandfather.

  “Owen!” Libby stood from her seat in the drawing room where she sat and conversed with Harry’s sister, Caroline and Lyon’s sister, Sarah. She hurried toward her brother. He held a beautiful little girl in his arms.

  Owen embraced his sister with his free arm.

  “I’m so happy you found your daughter, Owen, Grace!” Libby reached out to squeeze Grace’s hand when she realized the little girl in her brother’s arms peered curiously at her.

  “Alice, this is your Aunt Libby!” Owen said proudly.

  “Aunt Wibby.”

  “Hello, Alice.” Libby reached up to tousle the child’s dark curls.

  “Hello. You pretty.” Alice gave Libby a crooked grin.

  “Thank you, Alice, you are very pretty.” Libby smiled. “Come, Owen, Grace, you must meet Micah’s grandfather.”

  Lord Chilcompton insisted on standing, though it took him a bit to straighten to his full height. “Fitzlewis, you’ve the look of your father. I knew him fairly well. And this beautiful imp in your arms is your daughter?”

  “Yes, my Lord.” Owen beamed.

  “We Wychcombes are fortunate that handsome looks run in your family, for they do not in ours. I was telling your sister earlier that she and Micajah will bear the handsomest Wychcombe heirs yet.”

  Owen smiled. He winked at Libby. He introduced Grace as simply Alice’s mother to avoid any embarrassment for any of them.

  “Welcome to Wychcombe House, my Lady. There is a nursery on the third floor. It is only used these days when my great-grandchildren are here for Christmas. I’ll have it tidied so little Lady Alice can have a place to romp and play indoors. When the room is ready, I’ll have Fiske find you.”

  “Thank you, my Lord.” Grace said with a gracious smile.

  “I must excuse myself, my Lord. I am expected to join the others. I will leave my daughter and her mother in your care, sir.” Owen kissed Alice on the cheek, before handing her over to Grace.

  “Very well. I shall take good care of them, Fitzlewis.”

  Lord Chilcompton focused his attention on little Alice. “Now then, Lady Alice, would you like to come and sit in the chair with me? I’ll have Fiske fetch some sweets for you, and we can have a little chat, you and I.”

  Alice smiled and nodded. Grace put her down. Alice followed the elderly gentleman. She waited patiently for him to sit in his chair. His hands shook as he held them out to her.

  Libby moved to pick up Alice for him.

  “Elizabeth, I can still lift a child. I’m not quite an invalid yet.”

  “Yes, of course, grandfather.” Libby smiled. She watched Grandfather lift Lady Alice to his knee.

  “Lady Alice, with your mother’s permission, you may call me Grandfather Micajah. You are the niece of my new granddaughter and grandson after all.”

  “Of course, my Lord.” Grace smiled.

&n
bsp; “Grandfather Mick-aj-aja?” Alice attempted to say his name.

  “Very well, Alice,” he said with a chuckle, “I think we must make it Grandfather Mike.”

  “Grandfather Mike.” Alice repeated.

  “Very good, Alice. My you’re a smart little thing, aren’t you…”

  Moments later, Lady Alice and Lord Chilcompton were having a delightful conversation. It was evident Lord Chilcompton was quite taken with the child. True to his word, his long-time butler returned with a plate of sweets for him and the child to share. Tea arrived for the rest of them.

  Libby dared hope she and Micah would have a child soon. Not only would they be happy, but she could see how happy Micah’s Grandfather would be.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Avalon Society members were ensconced in the great library at Wychcombe House for the entire day. They dispersed only once to join the ladies and Lord Chilcompton for luncheon.

  Trevan’s relatives who were not society members stood guard around the perimeter of the house.

  Sir John brought the King’s advisors to Wychcombe House in the early afternoon so they might share their information.

  Sir John remained in the meeting once the advisor’s left later in the afternoon.

  Rowena’s aunt, who was more like a mother to her, Frances Phippen, Lady Sperring, joined all of the ladies and Lord Chilcompton in the drawing room. Of course she was overjoyed to hear Harry and Rowena’s news regarding the impending birth of their child. She and Harry’s mother, Jane, talked endlessly about the coming of Harry and Rowena’s first child.

  Late in the afternoon, the ladies and Lord Chilcompton retired to their rooms to rest and afterward dress for dinner, which was always a formal affair at Wychcombe House.

  As they arrived at Wychcombe House late the night before and rose early, Libby decided to take a nap before dinner.

  She stripped down to her chemise and crawled beneath the covers of the very large and ornate bed in the Viscount’s chamber. Soon she drifted off into slumber and into the nightmare that continued to frighten her since Owen returned her to Micah and Horethorne Hall.

  She was in the tent on top of Cadbury Hill. The yellow-haired man spoke, “I want your husband and brother to remember me every time they look upon your face.”

  She heard Micah’s voice. She felt his caress on her uninjured cheek. She heard him say, “Davitt is a dead man!”

  Libby watched in horror, as she did every time the nightmare came as Percy Davitt and her husband fought. For some reason, they each held a sword. Her husband and Davitt battled in a long, dark, shadowy room which she did not recognize.

  Micah’s arm was bleeding. She could see droplets of blood on the floor around him. Still he managed to slice Davitt’s arm with a powerful thrust.

  “Tell me, Wincanton, do you still love your wife as much since I carved her face. I did it especially for you.” Davitt thrust at Micah, coming dangerously close to his ribs. “I knew you’d someday face me, for you are such an ‘honorable’ man. I knew you’d seek retribution for your wife.”

  “I love my wife more than ever, Davitt. You will still pay for what you did to her, I assure you. You have my word.”

  Libby watched her husband’s eyes harden with his anger.

  “I wish I’d the chance to rape her before. I might still, once you are dead; which will be soon. I will make her scream. I will cut her more. I won’t kill her. I just want her to hate looking in the mirror. She will remember every day forward the only man who would ever touch such a hideous faced thing is cold and dead in the grave.”

  “You will never touch my wife again. You’re a dead man, Davitt.” Libby sensed Micah’s anger. She saw his eyes flash. The two men circled one another. Each one meant to kill the other, Libby knew it. She could feel it. The dream usually ended here, but this time it continued.

  Libby watched in horror as Micah’s arm thrust forward. Davitt anticipated his move and plunged his sword deep into Micah’s chest, near his heart. Micah’s eyes closed. She saw the life leave his body. She knew he was dead before he hit the floor. She screamed loudly. “Micah! Micah!”

  “Shh, Libby, sweetheart! You’re dreaming. Wake-up, sweetheart, it’s just a dream.” Micah gathered his thrashing, sobbing wife into his arms.

  “Micah! Micah!” Her eyes remained closed. She half screamed, half-sobbed, “Micah!”

  “Shh, sweetheart, it’s all right. It’s just a dream.” Micah smoothed her hair from her tear-stained face. He cradled her in his arms. He caressed her soothingly. “It’s just a dream, Libby. Wake-up, come on, sweetheart.” He saw her eyelashes flutter. “That’s it, Libby. Wake up. It’s just a dream.” He caressed her face lovingly.

  “Micah? Oh, Micah you’re alive. I thought he killed you. Oh thank God,” Libby sobbed anew. She buried her face against his chest and held him tightly as the sobs wracked her slender frame.

  “Libby, please tell me what this dream is about. I want to know what frightens you so, my love,” Micah whispered in her ear. “Please, tell me Libby. I’m beginning to think Davitt did more to you than you told us. If I ever see him again, Libby, I’m going to kill him. I promise you that.”

  “N-no, you must not. N-no, in the dream, you are fighting with him, Micah, with swords. He kills you, I see you die. You - you cannot. Micah, please promise me you will not go after that man. I-I could not bear it if you died, Micah.” Libby sobbed again. “Please don’t.”

  “Shh, sweetheart. I’m not going to die, Libby.”

  “It’s the first time I saw you die in the dream…I never saw that part before. But I knew he wanted to kill you in all the dreams before.”

  Micah rubbed her back, her shoulders and her arms. She trembled in his embrace. “Libby, even if your dream is a premonition or a portent of some kind, fate can be altered because now I know about what you saw in your dream. So, don’t worry, Libby, in the paranormal realm, being forewarned is being forearmed. Just because you are dreaming it doesn’t mean it will happen. It can also be your fears coming out on a subconscious level, especially if you are not talking about them and are suppressing them.” He pulled back and searched her luminous sapphire eyes as he asked, “Tell me Libby, is this dream why you don’t like looking in the mirror and seeing your scar?”

  Libby nodded. “Most of the time I forget the cut is even there. When I see it I remember Percy Davitt saying he wanted you to remember him every time you saw my face. Then I remember the dream. And in the dream he says things about my face. That he will cut me more. And hurt me. You get angry. This time, you were angry and not careful, and that is why he killed you in my dream. When I see the cut I am afraid of you going after him and what he might do to you. And now…this is the first time I saw you die in the dream, Micah.” A sob escaped her again.

  “Listen to me, Libby. A person cannot live in fear of something that might never happen. Even if it did, Libby, even if I died today, I would be a happy man. And that’s because I married you, sweetheart. I feel complete and whole since you came into my life, Libby. We all have to die sometime, some of us sooner than others. But, we can’t live in fear of that. Or we will never truly live our life. Don’t let Percy Davitt rob you of living your life, Libby.”

  Libby nodded. She smiled up at Micah. “You are right, Micah. And I do feel better now that I’ve told you.” She caressed his cheek. “The dreams just seem so real.” She sighed heavily. She tilted her face upward and touched her lips to his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I feared speaking of it, for fear it would make it happen.” She kissed him again.

  Her kiss was gentle, tender. Micah allowed his wife to set the pace. When passion flared between them and her kisses grew more heated, bolder; even demanding, he inched up her chemise with his fingers and removed it, leaving her gloriously naked. He allowed his hands to skim lightly over her body.

  He removed his coat and waistcoat. Her fingers worked at unfastening his shirt. She pushed it open to reveal his bare ches
t. Her fingers roamed across the hard muscle. She pushed the shirt down his arms and off. Her hands went to work on his trousers where the large tell-tale bulge was evident. In seconds she freed his hard, thick erection. She caressed him boldly.

  Micah pushed his trousers the rest of the way off and lay down upon the bed, bringing his wife against the pillows with him. While she continued to caress him, he massaged and caressed her mound, slipping his fingers inside her. He teased and pleasured her until she moaned with her powerful release. He came over her burying himself deep inside her. He groaned from the pleasure her tight, wet heat brought him as it caressed him like a glove.

  He moved slowly at first, but his lady was determined to increase their pace. When her legs wrapped tightly around his back, careful to stay far from his bandages and his healing wounds, he could hold back no more. Their passion grew, flamed, and burned hot as he drove into her again and again, deeper, faster, and harder. It was the first time since he was shot he could keep such a pace. When their bodies glistened with sweat, and their breathing became labored and ragged, as his balls tightened and he felt tightness at his lower back, Micah gave purpose to each movement and thrust until his wife panted beneath him. He knew exactly what to do to drive her toward her release. When she began her soft little pants, and cried out at the first sign of her climax, Micah allowed himself to let go.

  He drove into her wildly, seconds later exploding, his body growing rigid, his seed filling her as he tumbled headlong with his wife into the explosion of white hot ecstasy that engulfed them both.

  Breathless, he drew Libby up against him. He kissed her tenderly. He kept her close, held her tightly while caressing her, and whispered words of love to her. She returned them.

  He found her wrapper and his. When the tub was brought in, they bathed together. Their bath lasted for quite some time.

  “Sophia, darling?” Lyon called as he entered their chamber.

  “In here, dear.”

  He heard the splash of water coming from the dressing room. A wicked and rather devilish grin lit his features. His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. He hurriedly removed his coat and waistcoat and carelessly threw them upon the bed as he passed it. His wife lounged in the large tub. She grinned at him as he unfastened his shirt.