There was soup a la Reine, lamb cutlets, and roasted fowl with jelly wine sauce, and asparagus, potatoes and peas, and lastly there was a dessert of preserved cherries and walnuts. Sherry was served with dessert, as the men elected to escort the ladies straight to the library. The conversation primarily centered upon their trip to the Brides.
Upon leaving the dining room, the party filtered into the library, where the leaden box removed from St. Bridget’s Well awaited.
Harry appreciated the lower décolleté of the plum silk gown Rowena wore tonight. Apparently, Micah, Lyon, and Charlie appreciated it as well, for they flocked about her as she entered the library. Harry had to resort to a murderous stare to persuade Lyon from taking the empty chair next to hers. Harry sat quickly in the chair, and moved it as close to Rowena’s as politeness allowed. He then proceeded to glare at his three friends from where he sat if he thought their gazes might be resting anywhere near the area of Rowena’s beautifully displayed cleavage. He was quite certain he was a mad man. This behavior was so unlike him.
The leaden box was previously cleaned off. It sat upon the massive library table.
“Who will do the honors and open the box for us?” Rowena looked to the gentlemen. She smiled, her eyes resting on Lyon.
“Since I crawled into the well, and chiseled the box out of the stone wall behind the shrine, I will be happy to do the honors and open the box, Lady Rowena.” Lyon remained standing after being ejected from his preferred seat choice by Harry’s threatening glare. He tried to loosen the top of the box. “I’ll need something with which to pry it open. I don’t imagine it will open so easily after being in a perpetually damp well for centuries.” He looked to Charlie.
“I’ll be back momentarily. If you’ll excuse me, ladies,” Charlie sighed, rose and bowed to Rowena and her aunt before leaving the room.
“Lady Sperring told us before you arrived downstairs, Lady Rowena, of the picnic and the Ball to welcome Harry to the town,” Micah began, “I think due to the incident in the library and what happened today, it is imperative we make ourselves accessible to the townsfolk. We need to discover the identities of the men in the brown coats and hats who stole the books from the library, and who were watching us at the Brides and St. Bridget’s well today.”
Micah continued, “The picnic and Ball shall be perfect opportunities to question the residents of Glastonbury and deduce who may possess a real interest in Stonedown and our activities. In addition, Harry and I discussed it, and we must make it known that the reason we four gentlemen are in residence here at Stonedown is to help with and execute the plans for our grand festivities. Not to look for treasure.”
He added, “We must make our presence known often in town and speak with the locals as much as possible, while we carry out the business of preparing for the social events. Being in town will also allow us the opportunity to keep an eye on the general population of Glastonbury.”
“I doubt they shall appear in Glastonbury in their brown coats and hats, but we can keep our eyes open to any who are the same build, or who appear to be watching us,” Lyon added.
Harry added, “Lady Sperring and I decided before dinner our plans should be more elaborate, and that perhaps the picnic should be something more of a Faire. And that all of Glastonbury should be invited to our Arthurian Faire on the abbey grounds. Lady Sperring reasoned that with everyone invited, our attackers might be more likely to attend. The Ball of course shall be limited to the original guest list,” Harry declared. He was adamant he would not take any more risks with Rowena’s safety in her own home. “And hopefully, our thief and pursuers shall find themselves on that guest list.” He looked to Rowena with a smile, conceded with a nod of his head to his Angel, “and the Ball shall be held here, at Stonedown, as Lady Rowena and Lady Sperring wish.”
His reward, a very pleased smile from his angel, warmed his heart.
“If there was a theme for our Ball, perhaps allowing costumes and masks to be worn, it might entice the thieves to attend if they happened to not be on our guest list,” Rowena thought aloud.
“Very good idea, Lady Rowena,” Lyon praised.
“An obvious choice for a theme might be the Arthurian to coincide with our Faire,” Harry suggested.
“Yes! And we might have jousting and the like at the Faire! The entertainment might keep everyone in one area for awhile at least.” Frances’ eyes lit up as she began making plans in her head. “Of course we need knights to joust.”
“We’ll do it,” Lyon accepted for them all. “Micah can be the Black Knight.”
“Very good! But why would I be the Black Knight-“ Micah stopped in mid sentence as Charlie entered the library with a wooden chest that no doubt contained tools needed to open the momentarily forgotten box.
“I can’t believe we’ve gone for hours without opening it.” Rowena squirmed impatiently in her chair.
A hush fell over them all then.
She watched as Charlie and Lyon worked on the box. After a minute, a loud squeak sounded as Lyon slightly lifted the lid. Another squeak erupted and was immediately followed by a clang as the lid not only lifted but completely fell off the box due to the hinges being completely corroded away.
Everyone rose at once, the better to peek inside the box.
Two more leaden boxes were snugly fit inside, one smaller than the other. The larger one was taller.
Lyon picked up the smaller one. “My guess is this box contains the sapphire.” He tugged at the lid. Eventually it gave. A very wide smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “I guessed well.” With his fingers, Lyon picked up the object and lifted it so all could view its beauty. An enormous, round sapphire, sparkled brilliantly in the lamplight. He handed the object to Rowena.
“My, it is large!” It came close to filling her palm where it rested. “And so beautiful.” Rowena gazed at the stone, in awe of its exquisite brilliance. Her hand and arm tingled as she held it.
It was Micah who removed the other box. After working the lid loose, he carefully unbound the contents from swatches of old, stained linen. He pulled out two small, long, earthen jars, each having two delicate, curving handles on the sides.
“Behold the sweat and blood of Jesus Christ.” Micah’s voice was somber, serious. “The cruets are in truth ampullae.”
Rowena wondered if everyone else felt the power of the energy emanating from the ampullae? It was strong. Her flesh goose-pimpled. The hair rose on her arm. She felt the crackle of electricity along her shoulders. And was it a coincidence that at that very moment, the moon moved from cloud cover and sent glorious beams into the library through the lancet windows? She thought not.
Rowena was well acquainted with the energy of angels, one in particular, and knew this was an occasion of great import.
Everyone was silent. In truth, the party was in awe to behold such wonder.
“Now the duty falls to us to protect such relics. How do we even begin?” Rowena’s voice was but a whisper. The realization that such a wondrous treasure was extremely valuable as well as dangerous to possess hit her.
“Do you have a safe, Lady Sperring?” Harry inquired, his thoughts obviously mirroring Rowena’s.
“There are three in the house, Harry. One in my bedchamber, one in the study, and one in the gallery in the original part of the house.”
“We shall not put this in your bedchamber and endanger you further, Lady Sperring. Let’s look at the safe in the gallery.” Harry rose. “I fear the study may be too difficult to keep an eye on, being small and tucked away as it is.”
Rowena gingerly placed the sapphire back into its box. Lyon returned the lid. Micah replaced the holy ampullae in their box and gingerly lifted it into his hands.
“How does your society protect such relics?” Rowena looked to Harry.
“Hide them away. Study them, but not speak of them. You see, throughout history, despots, kings and dictators like Napoleon craved holy relics to help them achieve more power. Men o
bsessed with power search for objects of power oft’ times. We would never turn over such important treasure as the ampullae holding the blood and sweat of Jesus to the crown or a museum, or even an abbey. Just as the Ark of the Covenant is believed to hold the powers of God, so too, does something as sacred as the vials brought by St. Joseph which hold evidence of the crucifixion of Jesus,” Harry replied honestly.
“The treasures need to be guarded. Night and day, you know that, don’t you Harry?” Micah appeared very solemn.
Harry affirmed that he did understand with a nod.
Why had she never realized the consequences of finding such treasure? Rowena chastised herself for not thinking far enough ahead. All her years of researching and planning to find the Abbey treasure, and she had never once considered what should be done with it if it was found. Guards. Thieves. She shook her head as she realized her selfish stupidity.
“Lady Rowena, what is wrong?” Harry’s hand moved to cup her elbow. She was clearly distressed about something, in fact, Harry could not recall seeing such a dark look shadow Rowena’s angelic features. He looked into her eyes.
“I never dreamed there would be such danger. I didn’t think far enough ahead, I suppose. It was clearly selfish stupidity on my part. There are thieves breaking in, men following us, and now we must guard a secret so Holy…” She shook her head. “It is my fault for not thinking more clearly about what it would mean if something of this import was found. I am beginning to understand how William Dulac felt, I think.” Rowena mused aloud as they walked toward the gallery.
Harry immediately responded. “No, there is no fault, Lady Rowena. Might I remind you that less than a day after we met, someone broke into your library and stole books on Dulac Manor and the history of the Dulacs. This person or persons may be looking for the very same things we are. And they planned the break-in well before it took place. This is not your doing. Or your fault. These same persons learned of the Abbey treasures or secrets in the same manner we all did, no doubt. Through history.”
“Do not worry that it will be your burden alone to bear to see that the relics are guarded, Lady Rowena,” Micah spoke in a soothing tone. He went on as they reached the gallery. “I do not know if Harry fully explained the particulars of our Avalon Society to you. This is what we do. We research ancient history, myth, legend, and mysteries. Holy mysteries. When we can, we try to locate lost items. We assist persons who come across such things, just as we are helping you now.”
Micah turned to her as he continued, “We will happily remove these items to a very safe and protected place if you wish us to do so. We keep several secret and safe locations where we store such holy and significant items. Safe from the curious public and safe from those who covet the same items for darker purposes. There are only a trusted few of our membership who know the locations of our safe houses.”
“And do not fear for our safety in this endeavor, Lady Rowena. We are all of us well trained,” Lyon added, doing his part to reassure Rowena. “Every one of our senior society members is specially trained before admittance. We work together very well. We are an elite club so to speak. One cannot just join. I assure you, you and your aunt and Sir John are in very capable hands.”
Charlie spoke then, “I assure you, Lady Rowena, Micah was itching to get to Glastonbury and visit Harry, and mostly because of the history of Glastonbury Abbey. The secrets here are old. They run very deep. It’s not too difficult for a scholar to realize what some of history’s authors implied was to be found here at Glastonbury. I assure you, any danger here was caused by the lure of holy relics, secrets and treasure, not by you, or anything you’ve done.”
Rowena merely blinked and nodded slightly, overwhelmed as she was. She hadn’t expected so much spoken aloud in her defense. “Thank you, gentlemen,” she managed to say. She felt Harry’s hand move to the small of her back. He meant to comfort her, she knew.
“The safe is there behind the portrait believed to be by Robert Peake the elder. We think it to be a portrait of a middle-aged William Dulac, though we cannot be certain. The marks are very light and nearly faded away,” Frances informed the party.
Rowena had forgotten about the portrait since her recent visit by William Dulac. She studied it intently. The portrait was of a man perhaps in his late thirties, early forties. His hair was sandy, his eyes a piercing light blue. His face was long and thin as was the ghost’s. Though he did not actually smile, the corners of his mouth turned up. It was a hint of a smile. There was a happy sparkle in his eyes. He wore a dark blue bejeweled doublet and hat. It was a three-quarter length portrait, so only the tops of his gray hose were visible. He stood against a dark green curtain. Though younger, the shape of his face, and definitely his eyes were similar to the aged man who appeared in her room. She sensed the portrait was indeed of a younger William Dulac. At least younger than the elderly man who appeared to her in her bedchamber.
“Is it William Dulac?” Micah asked Rowena curiously.
“Yes,” she answered with a smile, “I daresay it is.”
Frances moved toward the heavily carved mantle, obviously original to the old wing. She lifted an ornately decorated lid from a finely painted jar atop the mantle. In seconds she lifted a large old key strung on a ribbon of black silk from inside the jar. “The key.” Frances handed it to Harry.
“May I keep the key, Lady Sperring?” Harry asked.
“You may, Harry.”
Together, Micah and Lyon carefully removed the portrait.
“Ah. A false panel. Do you know where the trigger is?” Harry looked to Frances.
She nodded her head. “Underneath the mantle somewhere. I only saw my mother open it once.”
Harry’s fingers first moved across the mantle, then underneath. It took him under a minute to find the trigger to open the false panel revealed behind the painting. There he placed the key in the lock and opened a safe which was about three feet by three feet square.
The boxes containing the cruets, or ampullae, and the sapphire were returned to the larger box. The top was set on it and Lyon pushed it into the safe. After Harry locked the safe, Micah and Lyon replaced the portrait of William Dulac.
“Lady Sperring, if you will escort me to the study, I shall place this key in the study safe. We will probably alternate the location of the relics every day or two, for safe measure. Until they can be moved to a safer place,” Harry informed her.
Rowena followed Harry, her aunt and Sir John to the study, leaving their gentlemen guests to return to the library.
Returning to the library on Harry’s arm, Rowena was surprised to find the other gentlemen already drawing up plans for the Faire to be held on the abbey grounds.
Another hour or more passed and soon it was growing late. Aunt Frances and Sir John looked very weary indeed. Since Rowena knew she could not be left in the company of four gentlemen alone, she announced that she was retiring for the evening, assuring the men they were welcome to continue their pleasures. Her aunt and Sir John seemed relieved to be excused from company.
“Harry, your things were moved to the room to the east of Rowena’s, and Micah, your room is on the west side of Rowena’s, nearer the head of the stairs. Your things are there. Lyon and Charlie, I believe Hanford showed you to your rooms when you arrived. They will be in the wing where Sir John and I keep rooms. Everyone sleep well. We have much to accomplish in the morning,” Frances bid the gentlemen good night.
Once Rowena was alone in her room and preparing for bed, her thoughts returned to the very eventful day. The threat to them at the Brides was a concern. She worried most about Aunt Frances and Sir John. They were older, less able to defend themselves against such men as they faced earlier that day.
Then there was the kiss. Harry Bellingham kissed her again! It was no accident. No chance encounter. He intended to kiss her, even asked her permission to do so. She smiled happily as she finally rested her head upon the pillow.
Rowena had her life well planned o
ut before meeting Harry Bellingham, and though she did not think she could ever trust any man well enough to marry, there was a part of her that believed Harry Bellingham might be the one man she would consider. Remembering the scandal, the secret that tainted her, she frowned. If not then to marry Harry Bellingham, then perhaps she might find out what it was like to truly be intimate with a man. For, if she did not marry Harry, she would never marry. She would at least hold the memory of being once with Harry to carry to her dying day. It was definitely something to think about.
Chapter Eight
Port and brandy were brought to the men in the library.
“An eventful day.” Harry shook his head as he sat to enjoy his brandy. They took their leisure in a sitting area of the monstrous library where very large overstuffed chairs and various tables were arranged.
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