“Please, Harry, please?” She nearly sobbed with the yearning for it. She bucked powerfully, grinding against his hand and felt his fingers slide into her moist sheath. She nearly shattered as his thumb worked the magical spot between the folds, and she simultaneously felt the teasing movement of his fingers inside her. He brought her such exquisite pleasure, torturing and teasing her inside and out with his fingers. First slow, then faster, then deeper.
Rowena was out of her mind, she clung to Harry’s shirt, his arm. She writhed, squirmed, bucked. She was unable to remain still. “More. Harry. More. Please more,” she pleaded breathlessly. Felt hot, felt her body tense in expectation of something. Needing something only he could give her. She did not know what it was, but she wanted it, needed it. She was hot, on fire, then suddenly, something deep within her exploded, sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through her body. She followed wave after wave, pushing and bucking against Harry’s hand still at her mound bringing bittersweet pleasure to her. Even as the shockwaves slowed, even as a curious throbbing ensued inside her, Harry stroked her, teased her. More gently now. When his fingers slid from her, she lay boneless in his arms, her breath ragged.
“Are you all right, my sweet?” He looked into her eyes, searched her face to assure himself she was not harmed or frightened.
His gaze was dark, fathomless. “Oh yes, Harry.” She felt his erection, hard and straining at her hip. “But what about you, don’t you–“
“Not tonight, angel.” He interrupted her. Not tonight. It was too soon for her. She needed time. “Perhaps next time. As long as you understand what I said earlier. That once you’re mine, I’m not letting go.”
She nodded. “I don’t want you to let go.”
He kissed her then. Softly. Slowly he plundered her lips, coaxed her, teased her with his tongue. Then he ushered her from his lap. Stood up, albeit stiffly. Righted her night dress, retied the ribbons, kissed her forehead, tucked her into her bed with a little longer kiss. After scooping up his discarded clothing, Harry reluctantly left her in her room alone. “Sweet dreams, my Angel.”
Once in his bed, Harry closed his hand about his still aching, pulsing shaft and gave himself much deserved release. His dreams were of his Angel. For she was already his. He had no intention of letting her go.
Harry rose before dawn. Dreams of a certain naked angel in his arms tortured him throughout the night, resulting in his awakening with a fully hard, throbbing erection. What happened to his control? In his dreams, he was able to do every single thing to her he wanted to do before he left her alone in her bedchamber the night before. He once again gave himself quick release and dressed and made his way downstairs to the gallery to relieve Wyldhurst and Newt as daylight came. They left to go on to the Grange, leaving him alone in the long gallery.
Until the Angel wandered in about thirty minutes after the others left. She looked lovely dressed in a pale pink morning gown her riot of golden curls pinned up, some left loose to frame her angelic face. Her cheeks were perhaps a trifle rosier than usual.
“Good morning, Harry,” she yawned.
“Good morning, my angel. You’re up early. Did you not sleep well?” He held out his hand, urged her to come to him at the chaise where he lounged.
“I had dreams.” She raised a brow at him. She sat as he drew his body up to a sitting position beside her.
“Bad dreams?” Harry queried, hiding his amusement. He knew exactly what kind of dreams she dreamt. No doubt the same as his.
“No. Good dreams.” Her cheeks colored.
He kissed her quickly. Reluctantly released her. The servants were starting to bustle about.
“I want more tonight, Harry. I want to learn all about this. Everything,” she whispered pleadingly.
His heart soared. As did another part of his body. “You’re certain. There’s no going back after, Rowena. You’ll be mine.” His. His wife.
“I want that. And you’ll be mine.” She caressed his cheek with her fingers. Hers. Her lover. Maybe someday her husband, but first she had to know what this was all about.
Harry thought for a moment. His head told him it was too soon, his body told him quite differently. “Only if you’re certain. If you are I’ll come to your room tonight. Late, when the house is quiet.” Harry wanted tonight to be here now. How could he make it through the day knowing what bliss awaited him tonight? He kissed her quickly, wished like hell there was time to do more. Realized unless he kept his mind occupied today he’d walk around with his cock hard the entire day, like a green pubescent lad. Heavens, the Angel stripped him of all control of his body. At least of his cock!
“I am certain, Harry. I do have one question,” she blushed.
“Yes, Rowena? What is your question?” he asked curiously. Placed a soft kiss to her temple where springy golden curls enticed him.
Rowena allowed her hand to hover over the area of his body that was fully aroused the night before. “It seemed very large, will it fit? Inside me, I mean?”
He couldn’t laugh at her or even smile, though he was sorely tempted. “Oh yes. I’ll fit. I promise you. Your body will stretch to accommodate mine. You will like it much better than my fingers, Rowena.” He could not resist nipping at her lobe, kissing her throat. He grinned deliriously as his lips moved to her nape.
Her mouth formed into an O. She hoped what Harry told her was true. For he seemed very large. “Very well then. I did not know. No one has ever explained…” she blushed scarlet.
“I will explain as we go along, my sweet. I want you to enjoy every minute of our joining,” he whispered in her ear.
She relaxed. Smiled softly. Placed a chaste kiss upon his lips that he took control of, drew out. The kiss turned passionate. He had no choice but to end their kiss. Footsteps and movement were heard in the halls and rooms all around them.
“This afternoon we shall go into the town and turn in the orders for the Ball. You and your aunt will finish your lists this morning?” Harry purposely changed the direction of conversation. If he didn’t, he’d take her right here on the chaise in the gallery. No doubt with an audience of Stonedown’s house staff by the time they were finished.
“Yes. We shall go over our lists one more time this morning.”
“I believe Micah was going to search for more letters in the books last night. I don’t know what headway he made. He might require your help today.” Helpless to keep from touching her, Harry laced his fingers with hers.
“Harry isn’t there anyway we can do this now, I think I might die before tonight.” Rowena seemed suddenly tense. She raised her pleading blue eyes to his.
“No!” He laughed softly against her ear as he pulled her against him. He continued to whisper to her. “Tonight will be sweeter for the wait, angel. I’ll not take you quickly. Even now I could lift your skirts and give you what you want in an unbelievably short amount of time. Minutes. But not this time, your first time. It will be done correctly, with a great deal of patience and not until tonight. We’ll have hours for our pleasure. I shall make sure you enjoy every moment.”
“Very well. Until tonight then,” Rowena sighed heavily. Yet she graced him with a smile. “I hope the day goes by quickly.”
“As do I.” He knew he would find no peace until he sank into her hot, moist sheath tonight. “We must keep ourselves busy today. Until tonight, my Angel.”
Chapter Eleven
The day proved to be extremely busy. First, Rowena and Aunt Frances finished going over their lists for the Ball with Hanford, Mrs. Brimble, and Cook. Harry and Sir John escorted them to town to place orders and make purchases for the event. Everywhere they went they introduced Harry and invited the townspeople of Glastonbury to the Faire on the abbey grounds.
There was so much to get done, Rowena only thought about her upcoming night with Harry a couple of times when their eyes met and he looked at her that way. She merely smiled back at him and tried to suppress the tingly feeling that always overtook her when he l
ooked at her like that. It was that particular way he looked at her that reduced her to something like quivering jelly.
Mrs. Brimble’s daughter, Jenny, stopped by to discuss the costumes she was to make for Rowena and Frances for the Ball. Rowena was terribly excited about her costume. She refused to tell Harry what her costume was, though he tried numerous times to extract the secret from her. Even once with a stolen kiss. Miss Brimble also spoke to the gentlemen to see if they needed any assistance with their costumes. Most of them did, as this was Glastonbury, not London, and costumes in the town were scarce.
Aunt Frances was currently conferring with Hanford, Cook and Mrs. Brimble regarding the menu for the dinner to be served at the Ball. Rowena joined Micah in the library while Harry and Charlie went to check on Wyldhurst and Newt and the progress on the tunnel at the Abbey. Lyon was currently on duty in the gallery.
“Keeping our list in mind, Lady Rowena, let’s see if we can pull out some of the books we feel William Dulac might have regarded as important. I confess I did not count them all, but the books that are original to Dulac Manor appear to number around seventy. I checked all in the smaller cabinet across the room. If we find nothing in the books we pull due to their titles, I suppose we must check each book separately. I’ll start with this cabinet. You take that one?”
“Of course, Micah. With any luck if there’s another letter hidden in one of these books, we shall find it.” Rowena opened the large glass-fronted cabinet and began perusing the titles. They worked in silence for the first quarter of an hour. Then, it seemed they both found some likely prospects. “Ah, here is one about St. Joseph of Arimathea.” She pulled that book out and laid it on a small table nearby. “Le Morte d’Arthur?”
“Yes. Very possible a letter could be in Le Morte d’Arthur,” Micah agreed. Then he said hopefully, “Aha, St. Dunstan. I’ll pull it out since the tunnel unearthed by the brown coated men was near St. Dunstan’s Chapel.”
It went on like that for the next ten minutes. Each had a substantial pile of prospects.
Rowena looked curiously at one book whose author was not on the spine, nor the front cover. She pulled it out. “John of Taunton?”
“He was an early Abbot of Glastonbury,” Micah remembered after a few moments thought.
Rowena felt positively giddy when she opened the cover to peruse the title page. “Micah! John of Taunton was written by none other than Abbot Richard Whiting!”
“Bring it to the library table. We need to check that one this instant! There was no one William Dulac esteemed more than Abbot Whiting. I have a good feeling…“
“So do I!” Rowena giggled excitedly. “Surely, a book written by Abbot Whiting merits being special to William Dulac.” Rowena remained standing while she looked over Micah’s shoulder as his fingers slowly explored the fabric on the inside cover.
“I think I feel something. Lady Rowena, would you mind if I use a small knife to cut the fabric inside the cover. I shall have the book repaired.”
“Nonsense, Micah. I’ll have it repaired. Please cut the fabric. Go on,” Rowena urged impatiently.
Micah bent, lifted his trouser leg and removed a small knife from his boot. Very carefully he cut a small line near the cover’s edge. He then slipped one of his fingers inside the space and felt around. He looked up at Rowena, smiling triumphantly. “I feel parchment or vellum. I’ll cut it a trifle more.”
Rowena waited breathlessly, her hands clasped together.
“There is a folded piece of vellum between the fabric and the cover. Micah removed it, opened it.
“A map!” He and Rowena exclaimed simultaneously.
“Of the Abbey! And the Tor.” Micah squinted to read the small writing in the top right hand corner of the sheet.
Rowena slid into the chair next to Micah and peered at the map alongside him. “The map is signed at the bottom. Look,” she pointed, “Wm. Dulac.”
“Yes. Yes! You are right, Lady Rowena.” Micah smiled broadly.
“Good God, do you know what this is, Lady Rowena? I believe this is a treasure map. It is a map of the tunnels beneath the Abbey and leading to the Tor! Now we know the location of the tunnels.”
Rowena studied the antique page. “There are some marks in various places on the lines denoting the tunnels, Micah!”
“It does appear so, Lady Rowena.” Micah picked up a magnifying glass to better study the faded script. “Yes, here, near the spot where the tunnel was opened beside St. Dunstan’s Chapel it says Bones and Relics.” He handed the small glass to Rowena.
“Look, it shows the Abbot’s house there, and a tunnel marked Lead Cross and Relics near High Street.” Rowena pointed out, returning the magnifying glass to Micah.
“Yes, the tunnel leading to the George and Pilgrim. There is a tunnel leading from the Monk’s kitchen to the Abbey Barn across Bere Lane, but there are no marks denoting treasure. Then it appears the tunnel goes on to the Tor from the Abbey Barn. No marks there indicating treasure that I can see. Let me find the first letter.” Micah prepared to stand, but Rowena snatched the first letter quickly. She knew it was located just to her right. She slid it toward him.
Micah paraphrased aloud. “Chalices, pixes, cruets, oil vessels, silver and gold encrusted items. The holiest and most sacred of the Abbey’s manuscripts, scrolls, etc. etc., all at the end of the Tor tunnel. But the Tor tunnel does not bear a mark on this map.”
“What about the other side of the Tor? What’s that, on the Stonedown side?” Rowena pointed to a darker spot on the hand drawn map.
“It is near a line that looks similar to the other lines marking the tunnels.” Micah picked up the magnifying glass again. “Here, there’s a small scribble, right near the mark for Dulac Manor. It says Secretum Domini. The secret of our Lord!”
Rowena and Micah looked at each other for a long moment. The corners of their mouths both turned up into broad smiles.
“It’s here. Here!” Rowena stood up. Clapped her hands together. “Oh my. All this time I thought any treasure would be on the abbey grounds. It’s here!” She felt giddy. She laughed loudly.
“This mark is not far outside the house walls of the original manor. Let’s hope the later additions and restorations did not cave in the tunnels.” Micah handed Rowena the glass. Moved the map closer to her. “Can you tell, Lady Rowena, by looking at Dulac Manor on this map if that mark rests where additions were added?”
Rowena sat once again and studied the map. “I don’t think so, Micah. I think that mark would be somewhere outside the garden here, right off the library, for the library was in fact the great hall of the original manor.”
“Is the cellar beneath the library?” Micah inquired.
“Yes, part of it. The cellar is quite large, actually. Most of it lies beneath the kitchen. The hallway between the kitchen and library leads to the cellar,” Rowena said as she hopped up to follow Micah, who map in hand was already on his way. Before heading down the hall, he poked his head into the gallery. He shouted, “Lyon! Lady Rowena and I found a map. We are going into the cellar to look for a tunnel.”
“Really? Wait! Tell me more.” Lyon rose from the chaise.
“When we’ve had a look. Stay here. Guard the treasure. Keep an eye on things up here!” Micah called back as he hastened down the hallway.
“Don’t leave me without an explanation, Wincanton!” Lyon pleaded after them.
Rowena and Micah were already heading down the cellar steps when they heard Lyon shout, “No Fair. Of all the rotten luck! And I’m stuck up here.” Micah, smiling in amusement at Lyon’s complaints paused mid flight to remove a lantern hanging on a peg on the wall. He lit it and proceeded down the steps. He waited at the foot of the stairs to take Rowena’s hand. “Careful, the stone floor is quite uneven down here.” He placed her hand on his arm.
The first room of the cellar was used for food storage for the kitchens. Micah stood still a moment as if to get his bearings. “The library is that way, toward the second
, deeper cellar chamber am I correct?”
“Yes. And that room is not much used. Mainly for storage.”
Lyon’s voice drifted down to them from the top of the cellar stairs. “Have you found anything?”
“No.” They answered in unison. Micah chuckled. Rowena giggled.
“Poor, Lyon!” Rowena shook her head.
“He’ll live through it,” Micah commented drily.
The second room was dark, damp and filled with what seemed to be a lot of old barrels, crates and wooden boxes.
“What’s inside all of these?” Micah questioned curiously.
Rowena slowly shook her head. “I have no idea. I was told there are old, no longer used items stored down here. I should look some day. Whatever is stored down here might be considered priceless antiques by now. There is an old spring in the alcove in the corner. It runs at barely a trickle now unless there is a good amount of rain.”
Lord of the Abbey Page 21