“Aunt Frances has a head-ache and is low on her Tonic of Willowbark.
“Papa is not in this afternoon. He was called over to Street. The elder Mr. Burns is very ill. I know he will not mind if I send some along with you for your aunt. He wouldn’t want her to suffer unduly. I’ll step into the back and get a bottle ready.”
Harry looked about the clean and tidy apothecary shop curiously while they waited. He looked to Rowena. Admired her shape, silhouetted as it was, in her fine fitting gown. Though her waist and limbs were long and trim, he would describe her curvy breasts and hips as voluptuous. He looked away when he felt the heat stir within him, as it always did when his thoughts strayed regarding her. He turned toward her again, found her smiling at him. Noted that her eyes were a little stormy looking. Interesting. No doubt her thoughts were mirroring his. He returned her smile, yet his was a wolfish one that brought a stain of pink to her cheeks. He wished he could do more than merely smile at her.
“Here it is.” Millie came out carrying a small bottle.
“Thank you, Millie.” Rowena went to open her reticule. Before she managed to extract her coin from inside, Harry’s gloved hand reached around her, depositing coin in the young lady’s hand.
“Millie, have you met Lord Glaston of Abbey Grange?”
“No. Welcome to you, my Lord! We’ve heard you’re to make Glastonbury your home. The whole town is quite happy with the news.”
“I am happy to make Glastonbury my home, Miss Smythe.
“Oh, Millie,” Rowena began and quickly told the girl about the Faire and Ball. She finished with, “Be sure to tell your father.”
“I will, Lady Rowena. Lord Glaston. We shall see you at the Faire then. Good day to you both.”
“Thank you, Miss Smythe. It was a pleasure.” Harry bowed to the young woman before he led Rowena out of the shop on his arm.
“Shall we join Micah?”
“Yes, Harry. I should enjoy a glass of wine, I think.”
Harry led her into the oak-paneled public room of the inn. The large room was warm and cozy. Being mid afternoon, there were only a few patrons scattered about.
“Lady Rowena! So nice to see you today,” Joshua Davitt called happily from behind the counter. He motioned to an empty table before the fireplace. “Please, sit.”
Rowena pointed to the table beside it. “We came to join our friend, Lord Wincanton, Mr. Davitt.”
“Very good. Make yourselves comfortable, then. Is it a meal you’d like? Bessie just took some meat pies out of the oven.”
“Has she any tarts or cinnamon buns left from this morning?” Rowena asked expectantly. “That is all I should like.”
“I’m afraid the cinnamon buns are gone, my Lady. There are several apple tarts left.”
“A lovely apple tart it is for me then, Mr. Davitt.” Rowena turned to Micah and Harry, commenting loud enough for all in the room to hear, “Mrs. Davitt makes the best meat pies, tarts and the most delicious cinnamon buns I have ever eaten.”
“An ale for me and a meat pie apiece for us, Mr. Davitt.” Harry motioned to himself and Micah.
“Yes, my Lord. Right away.”
After a few minutes, Mr. Davitt brought a tankard for Harry and a glass of wine for Rowena. “Your ale my Lord. And a glass of our finest wine for you, Lady Rowena.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davitt. Have you yet met Lord Glaston? He’s so newly arrived to our fair town, I thought you might not have. This is his friend, Lord Wincanton from Templecombe.”
“A pleasure, my Lords. Welcome to Glastonbury, Lord Glaston. ‘Tis proud we are that you’ve made Glastonbury your home.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davitt.” Harry took a sip of the ale. “I shall become a regular patron, I think, Mr. Davitt. The ale is a superior brew. Very good indeed.”
“We look forward to seeing you often then, my Lord.” Mr. Davitt beamed.
“Mr. Davitt, another ale if you please.” Micah held up his empty tankard. “A very fine brew.”
“Of course, my Lord. And thank you.”
Joshua Davitt returned with a tray holding a tankard, two meat pies and a warm apple tart. “Here you are my Lords. Lady Rowena.”
“Thank you. Mr. Davitt?”
“Yes, Lady Rowena?”
“Lords Glaston and Wincanton are both very interested in local history. Especially history in the sixteenth century around the time of the dissolution of our town’s Abbey. I just remembered it was either you or your brother who once told me your family goes way back here in Glastonbury.”
“I think you’ve got the right of it, Lady Rowena. I know the Davitts owned and ran this inn on and off for centuries. But, I’m not so keen on the history. Now, my brother, whom you must have talked to, my Lady, is very familiar with the family history. It’s a past time of his, it is. As luck would have it, Percy is here visiting for the past week, and says he may stay for a few more. Oh, there he is now. Percy!” Joshua Davitt motioned toward a tall lean man with pale, yellowish, blonde hair, who just entered the inn. Where Joshua Davitt was genial and unassuming, his elder brother walked and postured as if he were a well-born gentleman of import. His facial expression and manner bespoke of disdain. He seemed irritated by the way his brother hailed him over to their table so casually.
“Lady Rowena,” he bowed stiffly, “nice to see you again. I’ve just come for a visit of a few weeks.”
“Nice to see you, Mr. Davitt.” Rowena smiled sweetly. She introduced her gentlemen guests then continued on. “We were just speaking to your brother, for Lord Glaston and Lord Wincanton are very interested in Glastonbury history, especially around the time of the reign of Henry VIII. Sixteenth century, you know. I heard some time ago that the Davitts went back that far. Your brother said you were more knowledgeable on the subject than he. He mentioned it was something of a past time for you.”
“Indeed.” Percy Davitt looked rather cross before he smiled. But it was a false smile. The friendliness never quite reached his pale green eyes. “Yes, it is one of my past times. But, nothing to interest you in the Davitt line. We’ve been innkeeps and merchants on and off. Even servants. We’ve the house in Bove Town for two hundred years, and one on Benedict Street before that. And some lived above stairs here at the inn about the thirteenth century. That’s about as interesting as the Davitts get. We certainly never met King Henry or any other great man so important.”
“Do you recall anything at all about a relative who lived in the fifteen hundreds by name of Esau Davitt?” Harry queried. “He worked here at the inn during the time of the dissolution, when the Abbey actually fell.”
“Why no. I never heard of him. And here I thought I thoroughly researched my pater’s line fully.” Percy Davitt chuckled. There was no warmth in the expression and again, the humor never reached his eyes. “Esau, you say? I shall have to delve deeper into the research of the Davitt’s. Umm? I’ll let you know what I find.”
Another gentleman entered the inn and motioned to Percy.
“One moment, George.” Percy held up his cane in acknowledgement then looked back to the Earl, Viscount and Lady. “Wonderful to meet you, my Lords. Always a pleasure, Lady Rowena. If you’ll excuse me. Mr. Whitely and I are old school chums. We’ve some catching up to do.”
“One more thing, Mr. Davitt,” Rowena said sweetly, “You heard about the Faire to be held on the abbey grounds and the Ball to be held at Stonedown in two weeks time, haven’t you? I am hoping you will stay in town that long. You’ll be receiving an invitation in the next day or so.”
“That sounds like a wonderful time. I may still be here then, I am not entirely certain. Thank you, Lady Rowena. My Lords.” Percy Davitt nodded then walked calmly off. He went across the room to sit at a table with his friend.
“Do you know who his friend is, Rowena?” Harry inquired softly.
“It is George Whitely. From another old Glastonbury family. George inherited from his father. His manor is not far from Stonedown. He recently married Amelia
Chidley from London. I’ve heard she’s none too happy to be living in Glastonbury. Aunt Frances and I called there after they returned from London. She scarcely said two words to us the entire time we were there. George’s mother did most of the talking,” Rowena explained in a quiet voice. Then she whispered lower, “Was it me or did Percy appear to be lying about Esau Davitt.”
“I agree with you, but why do you think he was lying, Lady Rowena?” Micah looked to her with curiosity.
“I just got the feeling he was. He smiled and made at humor, but his eyes remained cold. Yes, it was his eyes. He never really looked any of us in the eye. He seemed to be looking over us much of the time.”
“You are amazing, Rowena! Micah do you think we can admit ladies to our Society. Why, we could certainly use Rowena’s help.” Harry winked at her. He leaned closer to her and said loud enough for Micah to hear, “You handled that interrogation like a professional!”
“I do think we will make an exception, Harry. I do agree. Welcome to the Avalon Society, Lady Rowena. Our first lady member.” Micah lifted his tankard to her, flashed a broad grin in her direction.
“You are teasing me!” Rowena laughed and shook her head. “I merely asked questions of people I know. There is nothing difficult about that.”
“And did it very well. Neither one of them shall ever suspect that you were trying to get information from them,” Micah complimented her.
“Rowena, what if we are not teasing?” Harry posed.
“Of course you are. If I did not know someone, I doubt I would be so effective. I did nothing extraordinary. The apple tart is wonderful. How are the meat pies today?” Rowena changed the subject.
“Very good.” Her pair of escorts echoed one another.
Harry wondered at Rowena’s uneasiness at their praise of her. Years spent watching her mother and father’s situation, and harsh censure from her brother had no doubt lowered her self-confidence. No doubt it was that which led such a beauty on the path to spinsterhood. She’d never reach that goal if he had anything to do with it.
“Do save room for dinner, gentlemen, for Aunt Frances insists on having a formal dinner at Stonedown tonight.”
“Yes, we best get back.” Micah popped the last of his meat pie into his mouth.
Harry rose to pay Joshua Davitt for the food and drink.
“Why do you think Percy lied to us, Micah?” Rowena questioned him.
“Eye contact, and he seemed nervous, but at the same time trying not to be. I just get feelings about people, sometimes, Lady Rowena. And I’m usually right. And I got the feeling he was lying,” Micah revealed with a shrug as he drained his tankard.
“That is interesting, Micah. I find that happens to me sometimes, as well. I just know something. I enjoy being able to talk about such things with you and Harry and the others. I’ve never had anyone to talk with about energy, and angels, and psychic feelings before.”
“There are not many like us, Lady Rowena. I agree that it is gratifying to know we are not alone and that there are others like us in the world. It is a comfort to have someone of like mind to talk to.”
“Ready?” Harry assisted Rowena to her feet. Before they left the George and Pilgrim, Harry allowed Rowena to introduce him and Micah to the other townspeople in the public room. Together, they invited all present to the Faire on the abbey grounds.
Shortly before dinner, Harry received a note informing him that their comrades Wyldhurst and Newt arrived at the Grange. Frances insisted Harry go fetch them and bring them to Stonedown to join them for their meal.
Harry and his two comrades were entering through the hall as Rowena came down the stairs. She started at the sight of them. One was even taller than Harry, a large, but very muscular man. His hair was jet black, his eyes a brilliant blue. The other was lean and wiry though definitely muscular, with a build more like Lyon’s. He had rich brown hair, streaked with gold and intense green eyes. Rowena realized that Harry and all the members of the Avalon Society she met thus far were quite pleasant to look at and physically fit men, though she found none of them to be as handsome as Harry.
Harry paused at the foot of the stairs to collect his lady. Dressed in an exquisitely cut gown of pale silver watered silk, Rowena looked every inch an Angel seductress tonight. Harry was nearly rendered speechless by her brilliance. His Angel glowed like a celestial being. His gaze lingered on the mounds of her full creamy breasts exposed by the lowest décolleté he had yet seen worn by her. She wore a string of tiny, grayish pearls that was knotted at her throat and hung down to rest just above the valley of her breasts.
Harry introduced his Angel to his comrades, who behaved more like wolves ready to pounce once they noted the presence of his Angel. “Lady Rowena, may I present Lord Wyldhurst, and Lord Alloway?”
“Lady Rowena, Glaston has already told us of your beauty, but I fear he did not do you justice. You are a vision! Wyldhurst, at your service, mademoiselle.” Lord Wyldhurst, the giant man, bowed low over her hand.
“Enchanted, Lady Rowena. You may call me Newt. Everyone else does.” Lord Alloway politely touched her fingertips and bowed.
“Thank goodness you have arrived, my Lords. We need your help here. Harry and the others are spread quite thin. It is a pleasure to meet you both.” Rowena took the arm Harry offered and allowed him to lead them to the dining room. She smiled to herself at the remembrance of Lord Wyldhurst’s words that Harry had told them of her beauty. The thought that Harry found her beautiful made her heart leap in her chest.
Chapter Ten
During the formal, many course meal, Wyldhurst and Newt were advised of the happenings at Glastonbury, specifically at Stonedown and the Abbey. It was decided during the lively conversation during dinner that Lucien Saintmaur, Lord Wyldhurst and Newton “Newt” Lambrick, Lord Alloway would stay the night at Stonedown and guard the treasure stowed in the safe in the gallery so that Harry, Lyon, Micah and Charlie could enjoy a solid night’s sleep. At dawn, the pair would return to the Grange, rest for the morning and check out the progress of Woollard’s crew at the newfound tunnel on the abbey grounds late the next afternoon. The work of the crew and the responsibility of organizing the guard duty on the grounds would rest in their capable hands.
Rowena observed Harry was more relaxed and seemed relieved now that his comrades had arrived.
Throughout the evening, Harry was at Rowena’s side. He was more than attentive to her. His fingers often brushed her hand or her arm during dinner. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back on their way to the drawing room. Causing her skin to tingle with warmth. His eyes held that dark and intense look that left Rowena in anticipation of another kiss, mayhap more. More. Yes, she wanted more. This she now knew. But the action of more would have consequences. She had no way of knowing how she or Harry Bellingham would or should handle such consequences. That was the problem. And a very perplexing one.
There was no work that night, no research, just good natured conversation. The conversation was pleasant and entertaining as they relaxed in the drawing room.
Rowena realized she learned more and more about Harry by observing him with his comrades. Listening to the tales they told on one another. They were all intelligent and honorable men. They each regarded one another highly. This was evident by their remarks, even when they teased one another, which seemed to be often. They appeared to look to Harry as their leader, or was she imagining that?
After she and Aunt Frances retired, Rowena knew the men were now gathered in the library to make their plans. Some part of her resented that she had to remain in her chamber, for Rowena guessed her safety and that of her aunt and Sir John along with the protection of the holy treasures were the main topic of their conversation. She continued to remind herself this was her quest, after all. She could not change the situation. Propriety would not allow her to remain in the gentlemen’s company without her aunt’s presence. Rowena comforted herself with the realization she now had six personal knights err
ant bent on protecting her and her loved ones.
As she donned her nightdress, she reminded herself how fortunate she was to have made the acquaintance of such dutiful and honorable men. Especially Harry Bellingham, who had kissed her three times that day. She fell asleep not long after her head hit the pillow.
Wyldhurst spoke, “Heathcote does not seem to be concerned at all with any business regarding his sister. I heard that he has cut all ties with her, and that as far as he is concerned, Lady Rowena is disgraced and ousted, along with her aunt from Lord Heathcote’s family. Nor could I ascertain that he had any ties remaining with Dalworth. It seems that association ended at the same time he cut ties with his sister.”
“Then it is purely someone after the treasure, I fear, unless Elveston finds Dalworth or someone else in London to be involved,” Harry sighed heavily.
Wyldhurst grinned, “I was informed, by a little bird named Lyon, that Lady Rowena’s fall from society is to be short-lived, that you shall be welcoming her into your family and back into society, eh Harry?”
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