Lords of Honor

by K. R. Richards

  “Aye, he’s badly wounded, but I think he’ll pull through, Harry. My men carried him upstairs. Our cousin was killed. It was Piers Rosveare. There was a dead brown coat as well, so I think Lachlan or Piers got him.”

  “So, everyone is accounted for except Tristan?” Harry asked.

  Gabriel and Trevan nodded grimly.

  “Find him.” Harry rested a hand on Trevan’s shoulder.

  As Micah and Harry started up the stairs, Tristan entered through the front door. Blood dripped down one side of his face. He held one arm bent and tight against his body. He held a wiry, bruised and bleeding man with his good arm. “I got the one who got Lachlan! I chased him down. He and another tried to drag me out back and finish me off because I gave them a fight. The other one is dead. I broke his neck.”

  Trevan entered the hall upon hearing his brother’s voice. He hurried toward him. He carefully surveyed the bleeding wound on his brother’s head. “Get upstairs, Tristan. That’s quite a gash; it’s deep. That arm is no doubt broken. Let the ladies tend you until the surgeon arrives. Wyldhurst will be here in a moment. I’ll handle this riff-raff until he gets here.” Trevan roughly took hold of the man.

  Tristan nodded to Harry and Micah as he passed them on the stairs.

  “Tristan!” Caroline Bellingham shrieked as she came to the landing and hurried on down the stairs in a swish of lace-trimmed lawn. She headed toward Tristan. He encircled her waist with his good arm when she reached him. “They couldn’t find you! I thought you might be dead.” She began to sob as she leaned into him.

  “I’m fine, Caro. I’m fine, don’t worry.” Tristan said soothingly as he rubbed her back. He smiled down at her. “I don’t want to get blood all over you, Caro.”

  Harry started to take a step up the stairs toward them.

  Micah put a hand out to stop him. “No, Harry. Let it be. They’re in love. It’s obvious.”

  Harry stopped. He sighed deeply then whispered, “I just don’t want him to hurt her, Micah.”

  “He won’t.” Micah smiled as he watched Tristan tenderly kiss the top of Caroline’s head. “But you might, by denying her to marry the man she loves. What would you have done if someone forbade you to marry Rowena?”

  “Hauled her to Gretna,” Harry sighed heavily. He shook his head. “You’ve made your point, Micah.”

  “Tristan take yourself upstairs!” Trevan boomed. He was unable to leave the prisoner he held at the foot of the stairs.

  “He’s fine, Trevan.” Micah said.

  “Trevan, we can no longer deny the inevitable. We’ll talk about Tristan and Caroline’s formal courtship tomorrow,” Harry said.

  “Truly? Oh, Harry!” Caroline beamed at him. Tristan turned and flashed him a grin. He gave Harry and Micah a nod. The couple embraced, and Harry suspected they kissed after they disappeared around the turn in the stairs. Thank God he hadn’t seen it!

  Trevan chuckled. “We might be family soon, Harry!”

  Harry rolled his eyes at Micah.

  “I’d best see about my wife!” Micah continued up the stairs with a large grin on his face. “Formal courtship, Harry?” he whispered and shook his head. Did Harry truly believe that delaying marriage further between Caroline and Tristan would help anything?

  Owen and Grace were tending to Libby.

  “I think she’s fine, Micah.” Owen said as he glanced at his brother-in-law.

  Micah bent and kissed Libby’s forehead.

  “Owen told me about Charlie.” Tears welled in Libby’s eyes.

  Micah sat in the chair beside the bed and took his wife’s hand in his. He brought it to his lips.

  “How is Sophia?” Libby asked.

  “Don’t you worry about Sophia, pet,” Owen bent to assess the gash on the top of Libby’s head. Every time he looked at the knuckle marks on her cheek anger surged within him. Thank God Micah killed that bastard Davitt. “Just lie quiet, pet.”

  “Lyon said he thinks Sophia will be fine, Libby,” Micah offered.

  Libby nodded and settled back against the pillows.

  Micah remained beside his wife keeping her hand tightly in his while they waited for his grandfather’s physician.

  Lyon sat in a chair beside Sophia’s bed. He watched Harry lead the weeping Rowena from the room. He just informed her of Charlie’s death.

  “I’m sorry about Charlie, Lyon. I know he was a good friend,” Sophia whispered from the bed.

  “He was. Thank you, darling.” Lyon took his wife’s hand in his. He brought her palm to his lips. He gazed upon Sophia with tenderness. Her face was bruised where Crow hit her. There was already a dark circle beneath one eye. He knew the large lump on her head and the bruises on her body brought her pain. Her lip was split. Lyon thanked God she was alive. He prayed she had broken no bones or received any internal injuries.

  His mother came in. “The physician has arrived. He is with the Earl of Gryfe first. He will come to Sophia next.”

  “Thank you, mother. Come sit. You look tired,” Lyon rose and seated his mother in the chair next to his.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Micah and Owen stepped into the hallway when the physician came to Libby’s room. Grace remained in the chamber with her.

  Micah fidgeted nervously while they waited.

  “If he violated her will it make a difference to you?” Owen asked him softly.

  “No, Owen. No,” Micah shook his head adamantly, “I just worry for her emotional state if he did. She’s been having nightmares since they took her from Horethorne Hall.”

  Owen nodded. “I worry for her too. I did not think it would matter to you, Micah, but I asked because I am her brother. I needed to be prepared to help her through such a thing. There are some men who would cast a woman off in the same situation. I seriously doubted you were one of them. But for Libby’s sake, I told Grace to have the doctor examine her.”

  “I am not that kind of man, Owen, as you well know. Libby is the most important person in my life. I am worried for her sake, Owen. It is good the doctor will check her.”

  Grace called them back in. She whispered to them both before they entered, “He did not find any evidence that Libby was violated.”

  Micah and Owen both sighed in relief as they came into the room.

  “Your wife, and your sister,” The surgeon, Dr. Josephs, nodded to each one of them, “is fortunate indeed. I chose not to stitch the gash on her head. It must be kept clean, however. I stitched up the area on her cheek wound that was re-opened. She must rest for the next several days. She took quite a blow to her head and another to her face. Do not be surprised if her eye is blackened tomorrow or her face darkens with bruises. Use a cool compress if her face or eye should swell.”

  Owen prepared to lead the doctor out. “Do you need us any further, Micah?”

  “No, we’ll be fine, Owen. Thank you both.”

  Owen and Grace both leaned down and kissed Libby. They left the room with the doctor.

  “Right this way, Dr. Josephs. Tristan Chynoweth will be your next patient.” Owen said as he closed the door behind him.

  Micah undressed. He slid into bed and gently embraced his wife. She fell asleep almost immediately.

  Micah thought he heard the draperies being opened. He opened his eyes. He saw that Libby still slept beside him. Sunlight poured into the room. He wondered who would do such a cruel thing. He’d slept a total of three maybe four hours. He turned to see his Grandfather sitting in the chair next to the bed. He heard the door softly close behind someone.

  “Good morning, Micajah. Fiske helped me in. I have come to sit with my granddaughter-in-law while you clean up and go downstairs to join the gentlemen in the library. Harry said there is much important business to take care of this morning. Breakfast shall be served there for you gentlemen. Sir John and the King’s emissaries have arrived. Your valet awaits you in the dressing room with your bath and clean clothes.”

  “Um.” Still lost in the fog of sleep, Micah fe
lt to make certain his lady was dressed in her nightclothes before he threw off the covers. She was, thank goodness. Micah rose to a sitting position. He yawned while leaning over to pick up his trousers. He stood naked and slipped them on. He bent to gently brush an errant lock of sable hair from his sleeping wife’s face and placed a tender kiss to her temple. He made certain the covers were tucked about her.

  “I see you still do not take to wearing the nightshirts I supply you with every year at Christmas.”

  “Sorry, no, Grandfather. I don’t wear them.” Micah stretched and yawned. And he never would! “Thank you for sitting with Libby.”

  “You are welcome, Micajah. I have taken quite a fancy to your wife. I shall see that she stays in bed as the doctor ordered. When she wakes I’ll have her breakfast brought up to her. I shall keep her company as will her sister-in-law and niece, I’m certain. Fiske is right outside her door.”

  “You will send for me if there is a problem?”

  “Right away.” Micajah Wychcombe, the Earl of Chilcompton lifted his crisp, smooth copy of the Times up close so he could read it. He adjusted his spectacles. “And no need to worry, Micajah. I’ll protect your wife. I’ve my sword cane and m’pistol. I must say, it does my heart good to see how happy the two of you are together and how much you care for one another. I am thankful you have found happiness at last, my boy.”

  Micah grinned. “I have, Grandfather. We are very happy. I won’t worry about my wife, Grandfather. I know Libby is in the best of hands.”

  “Micajah?”

  “Yes grandfather?”

  “I am hoping your wife has nightclothes on or does she sleep in the same state of undress as you? I do not wish for her to be embarrassed by my presence if she is not clothed.”

  “She has nightclothes on this morning, grandfather, don’t worry. Her wrapper is on the chair next to the bed.”

  “Very good, I’ll have her maid tend her when she wakes.” Micajah Wychcombe, the Earl of Chilcompton nodded and returned his attention to the Times.

  Lyon woke with a start. He gazed into vivid green eyes.

  “How do you feel, Sophia?” He reached out his hand to touch her then stopped. “Oh darling, you’re so bruised, I’m afraid to touch you anywhere.”

  Sophia managed a small smile. “I do seem to hurt everywhere, husband.”

  Can I get you something?”

  “Some water? I’m thirsty.”

  “Of course.” Lyon hopped up and poured her a glass of water. He set it on the table beside the bed. Gingerly, he helped her to a half sitting position and brought the glass to her lips.

  She took a long sip. “Ouch.” She brought a hand to her lower lip.

  “Your lip is split, darling. Crow planted quite a facer on you.”

  Sophia nodded. “Crow is dead?”

  Lyon nodded. “I got him, Sophia.”

  “Good.”

  “My poor Sophia, you’re bruised from head to toe from being hit and pushed down the stairs.” Lyon gently lowered her to lie back against the pillows. “You’ll be sore for awhile, Sophia, and you need to take it easy. When you’re feeling better, I’ll take you home, to Shevington Chase. There is the chance we may have to go to Cornwall first, but by this time next month I hope we’re home in Wiltshire.”

  “Me too, Lyon.” She sighed and managed to give him a small smile. It didn’t matter where they went. Home was now wherever her husband was.

  Lyon pulled on his trousers and slid back into bed. He turned on his side and faced his wife. He wanted to hold her, but feared bringing her additional pain. So he took her hand and just talked to her. He told her all of the things they would do together at Shevington Chase when they returned. He told her about the house, about West Amesbury and Amesbury, and of Salisbury. He told her about their neighbors, and the hounds he raised for hunting.

  Lyon knew she hurt. He tried to take her mind off her pain, to make her smile. After about an hour, she finally closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. He watched her sleep. He was so thankful she was alive. He could tell she would heal, she would get well. He knew it in his heart. He thanked God there were no broken bones or any major injury to her.

  Lyon drifted off. He woke to a soft knock upon the door.

  “How is she, son?” His mother whispered as she stepped inside the chamber.

  “She’s a little better, mother. She woke for a little while some hours earlier. She’s in a lot of pain. There is nothing I can do for her.”

  “Harry wishes you to come to the library after you bathe and dress. Sarah and I will stay with Sophia. I’ll give her a little drop of laudanum in her tea when she wakes.”

  Lyon looked warily at his mother as he rose from the bed. He was thankful he put his trousers on earlier when Sophia woke the first time.

  “Don’t worry, son. It will be just a drop, to take the edge off her pain. I won’t overdose her. I shall never make that mistake again.”

  Lyon nodded. He did want Sophia to have relief. The thought of her being in pain nagged at him.

  “I feel responsible for your laudanum addiction, you know. I just could not bear for you to be in pain,” Mary said tearily.

  “Mother! That was not your fault. You had no idea I helped myself to the laudanum and the brandy along with it, in addition to what you gave me. There is no reason for you to feel guilty.” Lyon placed his hands upon his mother’s shoulders and gazed lovingly down at her.

  Mary gave him a small smile. “I should have noticed. I should have realized what was happening.”

  “Mother, I went out of my way to lie and hide everything from you. I’m fine now. I made a lot of mistakes, but everything has turned out well. I love Sophia, and she loves me. And once we get home to Shevington Chase, Sophia and I will do our best to give you that heir you want so badly.” He grinned at his mother.

  “Wonderful!” Mary Ravenscroft, Lady Amesbury, sniffed and smiled softly.

  “There is one more matter I must speak to you about, son.”

  “Yes?”

  “Julyan Trevelyan would like to court your sister. I told him I would speak to you first. Sarah is very fond of him, Lyon.”

  Lyon thought for a long moment. He gave her a nod. “And does Julyan seem fond of Sarah, mother?”

  “He told me as much, yes.” Mary smiled. He fears you do not approve of him and that you will not give him permission to pay addresses to your sister. He is thinking of marriage, Lyon. This I know, for he told me.”

  If they were in love, how could Lyon deny them? He was in love with Sophia and she loved him. How could he deny his sister such happiness? He could not. He smiled. “As long as Julyan cares for my sister, and she cares for him; I cannot deny a courtship. As far as marriage goes, Julyan is a Trevelyan, and can provide for her; of that I’m certain. I will give him my permission to court Sarah, mother, and to marry her if they both feel the same when the time comes.”

  Mary smiled happily. She lovingly kissed her son’s cheek before he left to go to the dressing room. He stopped before he closed the door. “Take good care of my girl for me, mother,” he flashed his mother a wide grin.

  “I will, son,” Mary smiled after him. Her son was back, truly back. The darkness in him was gone. Mary quietly sat in the chair next to the bed and looked upon the woman whom her son crawled out of the darkness for. Mary smiled when she realized she was fortunate to have such a fine young woman for a daughter–in-law.

  “Thanks to Gabriel and August, Madame Rosier gave us a wealth of information on the Knights of the Brown Order with the exception of the names of the leaders aside from Crow, Davitt and Crowhurst. She did provide two names of possible Knights, whom we will check out.” Harry paused as Lyon entered the room. “How is Sophia?”

  “Better, though still in pain. She stayed awake for awhile this morning,” Lyon smiled.

  “Good. Join us, Lyon.” Harry continued, “The address the Madame gave us for Percy Davitt was correct, however, it appears Davitt cleaned ou
t his belongings before last evening. It seems he did not plan to return.”

  Harry sighed deeply, “The man Tristan chased and brought back to Wychcombe House gave us some alarming information. He is a lower member of the Order. He was told upon being recruited that he must prove his loyalty to the Order by killing dangerous heretics when called upon. He received a message early yesterday that his presence was needed. He also told us, the Grand Knights of the Brown Order number thirteen. There is also a High Council of five Supreme Knights. None of the lower members know who the Grand Knights or their superiors are. They wear cloaks, hoods and masks at all gatherings. We assume Crowhurst was one, and possibly Crow, for they both wore the rings with the brown shield and white cross. We kept those rings. We might need them at some point in the future. Davitt did not wear one.”

  Harry paused. “Pendarves and Carlyon are investigating any questionable deaths of gentlemen or nobles around the time Lyon shot one of the Grand Knights on the road outside Templecombe. That would give us the positive identification of one of the Grand Knights, though he is dead. Following a trail of his associations may lead us to more Grand Knights. Pendarves and Carlyon are also checking to see if they can locate and follow any of Crowhurst’s and Crow’s associates or cronies. They will be watching who attends their funerals, as will the King’s men and the police. Percy Davitt is dead. Mr. Crow is dead. Lord Crowhurst is dead. There still could be twelve Grand Knights left, for we do not know if Crowhurst or Crow were Grand Knights. We are fairly certain Lyon killed one of them outside of Templecombe the night he returned from London.”

  Trevan spoke. “We are still in danger. We can remain certain the Knights of the Brown Order still want what we have. We know they covet the scrolls, the sapphire and the Holy cruets. Harry and I have spoken at length this morning. We feel all of us and our families will be safer at Menadue. Strangers coming into Cornwall will now be noticed, and I will hear about any intruders – especially if I send the word to my kinsmen to be watching for them. It is unlikely anyone could sneak up on us at Menadue now.”