Lord of the Abbey

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Lord of the Abbey Page 11

by K. R. Richards


  “Pomparles or the Perilious Bridge, in Arthurian legend,” Charlie expounded.

  “The same.” Micah nodded. “Arthur did not go to the chapel first. He went to rest at the monastery of the Holy Virgins. Arthur was told in a dream to visit the chapel at Beckery. He went to St. Bridget’s Chapel, which also still honored St. Mary Magdalene and received a vision of the Virgin Mary and infant Jesus. The Virgin presented him with a crystal cross, which as you said Lady Rowena, he presented to the Abbot of Glastonbury upon his later arrival at the Abbey.”

  “Yes! That makes perfect sense. But Micah?”

  “Yes, Lady Rowena?”

  “The Chapel of St. Bridget’s is in ruins. Beyond ruins actually. I think perhaps some of the outline of the foundations might still be seen, if even that. I don’t believe there is even much rubble left.”

  “I realize that. I rode there early this morning, just past dawn. There are some traces of the foundation left. Of both the Chapel and the later Saxon and then Norman Priest’s house.”

  “Didn’t William Dulac’s letter say that the items were placed in an underground chamber?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

  “Yes. There may be an underground chamber, long caved in when the Chapel was wrecked at the dissolution, or as the ruins decayed. Mayhap it was plundered over the centuries as the rubble was picked away stone by stone. Or, it might still be there under the foundation, chamber intact. History does record a basement area beneath the chapel.”

  Micah continued, “I personally hope that the Abbot’s hiding place is in an underground chamber housing St. Bridget’s well, which I found located not too far from the site of the chapel. The Abbot and William could have hidden those items in the well chamber without being seen by anyone. The possibility also exists that none might have seen them in the chapel either, for there was just one priest recorded to be at the site prior to the dissolution. The priests of St. Bridget’s tended to be lone, hermit types. The chapel was small, in disrepair and already crumbling into ruin in 1539.”

  “Which may very well be why the Abbot would hide such treasure there. A church already in ruins might escape destruction by the King’s men. Alas, if I remember correctly, it did not. Henry’s men pulled down the walls and sent the priest away,” Harry thought aloud.

  “What shall we do?” Rowena looked puzzled. “It seems in light of yesterday’s theft we cannot be too obvious in poking around the chapel area. Whoever stole the books might be watching us to see what we are about. Then there is the chance the rightful owner of the property will not be happy to see us there, or want us there. I do not know who owns the land at the Brides in Beckery? Does anyone?” She looked about the table.

  “Would you like me to find out?” Sir John suggested. “I can do some investigating around town, discreetly of course.”

  “Thank you, Sir John. That would be most helpful.” Harry rose as Sir John did.

  “I’ll accompany you, Sir John,” Charlie announced with a friendly smile. “I’ll pretend an interest in the property, that way no one will question our true motives.”

  “Thank you, Charlie! An excellent idea. While you and Sir John are gone, we will begin our search.” Harry intended to follow the two men from the room. He stopped and turned to Rowena. “I’ll be back momentarily, ladies.” He exited behind Sir John.

  When Harry stood on the front steps of Stonedown with Sir John and Charlie he inquired, “Charlie, are any of our fellow members currently in Bath or London that you know of?”

  Charlie thought for a moment. “Elveston is in London. Wyldhurst does live near Bath, and is currently in residence at his home there.

  “Just in case Micah was right about someone being interested in marrying Lady Rowena for her bloodline, send word and have Elveston try to find out if anyone is particularly interested in Lady Rowena in Town. And, Charlie, have him check the current marital status of Dalworth, and the current health of a wife if indeed he is still married. He may be in search of another wife.”

  Sir John took notice at mention of the name. He grimaced distastefully. “Ughh!”

  Charlie grimaced. “Dalworth? The wife murderer!”

  “Yes. Sir John will enlighten you as to why on your way into Glastonbury.”

  “I certainly will. And a very good idea, Harry! I never want that foul man within five miles of our dear Lady Rowena!” Sir John was quite emphatic in his distaste of the man.

  “Send word to Wyldhurst to find out, discreetly of course, in Bristol and Bath if perchance Rowena’s brother, Heathcote, is looking around for a husband for his sister. He tried to arrange a marriage between her and Dalworth years ago when she was entrusted to his care following the death of her parents. Thank goodness Lady Sperring intervened and broke the engagement.”

  “Good thinking Harry. There’s another evil man if I don’t say so myself.” Sir John placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Nice to know you’re looking out for the ladies, Harry!”

  “It’s not difficult to see that they are both very special ladies, Sir John,” Harry said in honesty.

  “I will take care of everything, Harry. I’ll stop by the Grange when we finish our business in town and send the necessary letters,” Charlie assured Harry.

  A phaeton came around from the stables then. “Here we are, Sir John. I thought we’d take a leisurely ride into town.” Charlie added, “No need to get our feet muddy after the rains we received yesterday.”

  “Good thinking, young Charles.” Sir John happily climbed into the conveyance.

  Harry knew Charlie thought only of the elderly Sir John when ordering the phaeton.

  With yesterday’s break-in at Stonedown, because Micah revealed Rowena’s bloodline was highly desirable, knowing of the incident with her brother and Lord Dalworth, Harry decided he needed to stay at Stonedown with the ladies until he knew for certain they were safe. He did not want to let Rowena Locke out of his sight until he knew she was no longer in danger.

  Chapter Six

  “So, Lady Rowena,” Micah began, “Harry tells us you received an interesting visitor last night. Would you mind telling Lyon and I about it.”

  “No. Not at all. I already recounted the tale to Aunt Frances, Sir John and Harry at breakfast.” More confident after telling Harry, then Aunt Frances and Sir John, Rowena no longer feared censure.

  She told of her visit by William Dulac. She found that Micah and Lyon were very receptive to the fact she saw a ghost. In fact, they spoke about it casually, as if it were an occurrence they were quite accustomed to.

  “Rowena’s bedchamber is in the original part of the Manor then, Lady Sperring?” Micah asked.

  “Yes. It is. Mine is in the newer wing, added in the early eighteenth century. Rowena could have had a larger room in that wing, but she preferred a view of the Tor,” Frances informed him.

  “I would have chosen a Tor view as well! As soon as Harry returns to the drawing room, we shall at last begin our search.” Micah rose and began to pace.

  Harry entered moments later, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Shall we get to it then? Lady Rowena, please lead us to your chamber.”

  Rowena felt quite uncomfortable admitting men into her bedchamber. Doubly so when she remembered that Harry was, of course, already in her chamber the previous evening. Rowena felt her cheeks stain with color as she recalled the kiss they shared at the door. She felt Harry’s gaze upon her. She looked up to meet it. She knew by the glint in Harry’s dark brown eyes that he remembered what passed between them as well. Then he presented her with a warm and somewhat boyish grin. Though she thought she also detected a bit of male pride in those eyes.

  Rowena hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she saw Harry smile. More the way Harry smiled at her. His eyes were dark in that mysterious way she remembered them last evening. He brandished a slow, sure grin. He was clearly pleased with himself. She felt much more at ease realizing that not only did Harry not quit Stonedown, neither was he avoiding he
r. Nor did he appear to be sorry they shared that kiss. Her nervousness completely eased then for that reason. It seemed she might not have to move to Italy after all.

  “Ah, Jacobean?” Micah inquired, as he rested his hand on one thick pillar of her four poster bed. The bed was massive, being heavily and intricately carved. Micah stuck his head between the pillars at the foot of the bed and looked up to observe the finely carved, flowered panels of the tester. “Extraordinary! It’s magnificent. I’ve never seen any to rival it.”

  “I believe it to be Jacobean, Micah. Mayhap earlier. It is supposedly original to Stonedown, or should I say to Dulac Manor,” Rowena informed him. She felt momentarily shy under such unusual circumstances. Three men were in her bedchamber and one of them was asking questions about her bed. Another just grinned at her because she stuck her tongue in his mouth in her bedchamber the evening prior. Most definitely an unusual day for her!

  “Indeed. It is believed this bed has been in this room since it was brought to this house in the early fifteen hundreds. It was built for the Earl at the time, who I even think was named William. Perhaps it was our William! Anyway, he was a tall and large man, and needed such a monstrous bed. It was said at least three generations of Dulacs were born in that bed.” Aunt Frances beamed proudly. “At least that is what my mother and grandmother always told us when we were young. And I believe I read as much in The History of the Dulacs of Glastonbury. In fact most everything in this room is original to the house. The Press, or wardrobe as we call it is believed to be the oldest, the tapestry, the chest there, and the wainscot chair are early to mid sixteenth century. I’m not certain if that dresser on the far wall and the altar table are sixteenth century or earlier.”

  “Extraordinary! It’s like stepping back into the middle-ages!” Micah exclaimed, clearly in awe.

  “I believe the dresser and altar table are fifteenth century,” Harry spoke up as he moved to the wardrobe. “Like this Press, Wardrobe or Court Cupboard, whichever you choose to call it. It has to be fifteenth century. Are these mermaids?” He ran his fingers over one of the three identical wood carved balusters separating the opulently carved panels embellished with mythical beasts.

  “I’ve always believed them to be mermaids. It is difficult to tell,” Rowena said, watching as his finger ran over the bosom of one of the carved beings. Her cheeks tinged pink again, as she imagined what it might feel like if his finger ran over her breast that way. Oh! What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking such things?

  “This is what William Dulac pointed at?”

  “Yes, Harry. It is.” She nodded.

  “May I take a look inside, Lady Rowena?”

  “Of course.”

  “Now this, Lady Rowena, is one of Harry’s many areas of expertise. Finding hidden compartments in furniture, paneling and the like. He is a connoisseur of antiquities,” Lyon informed her.

  “Oh.” Rowena realized then there was so much she did not know about Harry Bellingham. And that there was a great deal she did want to know. She watched as Harry opened the paneled doors of the press, then the heavy drawers. He scrutinized the interiors of the drawers and cabinets. His hands and long fingers searched thoroughly inside. It appeared as if Harry were intimately caressing the dark smooth wood. Again she wondered what it might be like if he touched her skin like he did the wood of her wardrobe. She blushed again, partially due to her thoughts and partially because she realized that some of her most intimate apparel were being seen and now touched by Harry.

  Micah was still examining the Jacobean tester bed. He was currently studying the intricate carving on the headboard. Lyon ventured across the room and was inspecting the large and colorful unicorn tapestry. Aunt Frances seemed to sense Rowena’s uneasiness and came to stand beside her. She looped her arm through her niece’s, smiling at her.

  “Aha!” Harry exclaimed as his hand slipped to the side of a pile of Rowena’s unmentionables contained in one of the four individual paneled cabinets. “I found something!” He turned to them. “Lady Sperring, could we possibly call a maid to remove Lady Rowena’s clothing from this particular cabinet?”

  “Certainly. But I’ll get it, Harry. No need to wait for a maid.” Frances moved to the press and carefully removed the stack of Rowena’s fine chemises. She hurried to place them on the small but heavy oak altar table. She bustled back quickly, her heels tapping on the wood, her excitement of the moment revealed by her twinkling blue eyes and wide grin.

  Another minute ticked by. Harry’s hands moved over carved emblems on either panel inside the cabinet. “Abbey coat of arms, I think?”

  “Yes, Harry, I believe they are.” Rowena forgot they even existed, hidden by the stacks of her undergarments as they generally were. Finally, one of the emblems loosened and slid to the side. Harry’s fingers deftly placed pressure on the small panel beneath. At the sound of a loud click, Micah and Lyon immediately returned their attention to the old wardrobe press. They simultaneously made their way toward Harry. Rowena and Frances stepped closer.

  “A secret compartment!” Lyon announced jubilantly as he peered over Harry’s shoulder.

  “A letter!” Micah looked back toward Rowena. “Come, come. Take a look, Lady Rowena!” He motioned for Rowena to join them. Micah stepped back and ushered Rowena to stand beside Harry. Lyon stepped aside to allow Frances a better view.

  “Hidden beneath the Glastonbury Abbey coat of arms,” Harry breathed softly as he turned to Rowena and placed the letter in her hands. The letter bore the seal of the Abbey’s coat of arms, which was easily recognized, for it was much used in Glastonbury. She looked up to find Harry smiling down at her.

  Frances retrieved the neatly folded stack of Rowena’s chemises. The gentlemen politely turned away whilst Rowena’s undergarments were replaced in the cabinet.

  “Shall we go down to the library?” Rowena asked, still holding the letter reverently in her hand.

  “Absolutely. After you, ladies.” Harry, Lyon and Micah followed the ladies downstairs.

  “It is shorter than the last letter. Only one page.” Rowena realized she was holding her breath as she carefully broke the seal and opened the old linen. “It is signed by William Dulac. It must have been written after the other, for his hand is much weaker.” She squinted as she perused it. “Oh my! This will take some deciphering.” Rowena looked about the table to Harry, Lyon, Micah and her aunt.

  Micah sat on one side of Rowena, Harry on the other.

  “It is later, by one year. This letter is dated January, 1600.” Micah squinted to make out the marks.

  “I suggest that you, Micah and Lady Rowena, partner to decipher the letter since you are both quite adept at the old handwriting. Lyon if you can begin searching the downstairs and outbuildings for a secret chamber, perhaps Lady Sperring will assist me in looking above stairs.”

  “Very good idea, Harry!” Micah commented. Rowena rose to retrieve quill, ink and paper from a small writing desk along the wall. She returned to her seat beside Micah, and the pair bent heads to begin with the letter.

  “Lady Sperring, may I have permission to look in the kitchens, the larder, cellar and chapel as well?” Lyon asked.

  “Of course. Look where you will, Lyon. Every nook and cranny if that’s what it takes to find this secret chamber.” Frances took Harry’s arm as they proceeded to the stairs.

  Harry led Frances into the hall. “May we return to Rowena’s bedchamber, Lady Sperring. Since the furniture is believed to have been long in the house, I should like to inspect the rest of it more closely.”

  “Of course, Harry.”

  Ensconced in Rowena’s chamber, safe from the curious ears of the servants, Harry felt free to make good use of his time alone with his Angel’s aunt. “Lady Sperring, I wish to tell you that Lady Rowena has captured my interest.”

  “Oh!” Though she tried to act politely surprised, Frances feared that her pleased expression might give her away. It did.

  “You are not surpr
ised, Lady Sperring?”

  “Harry, I will be honest with you. I thought, or had a feeling if you will, that you might be interested in my niece.” She couldn’t admit that after hearing voices from the old wing last night, she walked only far enough to ascertain that they were Harry’s and Rowena’s. She turned around and made her way back to her chamber upon that discovery. “Firstly, I shall tell you that I absolutely approve of your interest in Rowena. You appear to be the perfect match for her. I’ve watched you grow from a boy, and know you to be a good man. I think you might already suspect that Rowena has many fears regarding marriage.”

  “I guessed as much. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me, Lady Sperring, on the cause of Rowena’s fears. I assure you, I will hold what you tell me with the utmost secrecy. I wish to know the cause of her fears so I may know how best to move forward.”

  “It partly stems from the relationship between her father and her mother, my sister, Anne. At least that’s where the seeds of her fear were planted.” Frances began to recount the painful story of Anne Locke’s marriage.

 

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