Harry nodded. “Good idea, Micah. I’ll speak to Lady Sperring about the cot as soon as I can. And about Rowena. Am I wrong, Micah? I just can’t see that sending her and Lady Sperring away will make them any safer. We don’t know why this person, whoever he is, wants Rowena.”
“I know you’re tired, worried about the safety of the ladies, and the odds seem to be stacking up against us. But you are right. The ladies are safer with us, than away from us. There’s not a man among us who would let Lady Rowena be taken or Lady Sperring or Sir John come to harm.” Micah clapped his friend on the shoulder.
It was then Lyon began to moan. His hand moved to his leg. He began to thrash about, which caused the wound in his thigh to start bleeding anew.
Micah grabbed a clean towel left by one of the maids and applied pressure. “Hold him down, Harry!”
“Charlie!” Harry called as he bent to hold down the arms of his friend.
The door burst open. “What?” Charlie paled when he witnessed his friend thrashing on the bed, fresh blood dripping down his thigh and onto the bed sheet.
Rowena came in behind Charlie.
“Rowena, take Charlie with you, I need more cloths and we need some laudanum or brandy. He’s in pain.”
“Yes! Right away, Harry.” Rowena pulled Charlie behind her as she left the room.
“Oh, where is Doctor Price?” They heard Rowena exclaim from the hallway.
Harry said a quick prayer that Lyon lived. “Where is the damn surgeon?”
Micah peeked out the window which looked onto the front drive. “Ah, I thought I heard a carriage. Yes, I did. Mayhap it is he who’s just arrived.”
Rowena and Charlie returned with clean cloths, laudanum and brandy just as Doctor Price was escorted into the room. He requested that Lady Rowena and one gentleman stay with him while he examined his patient. Of course it was Harry who stayed.
Rowena and Harry assisted the doctor while he examined Lyon’s wound and dosed him with laudanum. The Doctor painstakingly extracted the pieces of bullet, cleaned the wound and sewed up the torn flesh to the best of his ability.
“This is all I can do. It’s a very messy wound. We have to hope the bleeding stops. And at the first sign of infection I must be called. There is the possibility he will lose his leg if it becomes infected. Even if he keeps the leg, it won’t be much use to him, I’m afraid.”
Harry saw tears trickle down Rowena’s cheeks. He supplied his handkerchief to her. In the presence of the surgeon, he could offer her no other comfort.
Doctor Price cleaned and returned his medical tools to his bag. “He will be in a lot of pain. I see you have one bottle of laudanum, I’ll leave two more. Dose him regularly. It’s best to keep him quiet. Thrashing about can tear the stitches or re-open the wound once it starts healing. I’ll come by tomorrow to check on him.”
“Very well, Doctor Price. I’ll see you out.” Harry opened the door and led the doctor from the room.
Micah and Charlie slipped into the small parlour as Harry left.
“Not good news?” Micah whispered when he saw Rowena’s tear-stained face. She again dabbed at the tears with the handkerchief Harry had provided.
“We must keep him quiet, so he does not tear his stitches or re-open his wound once it starts to heal.” She pointed to the laudanum. “Doctor Price said the wound was messy and there may be infection. He may even lose his leg. He also said that even if he doesn’t lose it, it may be of no use to him.” She sniffed. “But I’m just going to believe that he’ll come through this. That he’ll be like the old Lyon in no time at all. I just need to believe that.”
“As you said earlier, Lady Rowena. We all must believe it.” Micah rubbed her arm to comfort her.
She nodded, looked at Lyon. Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She wiped them away and stood up from the chair where she sat. “Micah, I must go to the Chalice Well and the White Spring at first light tomorrow morning to collect the waters for Lyon. They are healing springs after all. Then I must go to the Tor. I must go to the Tor!”
“It’s dangerous right now to go walking up the Tor, Lady Rowena,” Micah informed her softly, in a calm tone.
“I have to go to the tower on the Tor! There is no other way,” she pleaded.
“Other way, Lady Rowena? For what?” Micah’s tone remained gentle and patient.
“Please, don’t think I’m crazy, Micah. Charlie. I must call St. Michael, the Archangel. For Lyon. St. Michael always comes when I call him. To date I’ve only called him when it is absolutely necessary. Dire circumstances, if you will.”
“Will he not come here to the Manor if you call him?” Micah posed his voice still soft and gentle.
“I don’t know. I’ve only called him from the Tor.”
“Then I’ll speak to Harry when he returns, and we’ll figure out a way to get at least four of us up to the Tor tomorrow. Charlie and I will get the water from the Chalice well and White spring in the morning. Don’t worry, Lady Rowena. We’ll find a way. For Lyon.”
Micah wanted to tell Rowena that the men who wounded Lyon were after her as well as the treasure, but decided he’d best wait for Harry. Let Harry make that call. Though he knew she was his friend, and she was a woman he greatly admired – she was Harry’s woman.
Chapter Twelve
Mrs. Brimble and one of the maids volunteered to sit with Lyon while once again there was a late informal dinner at Stonedown. Those that had blood on their clothing changed, Rowena being one of them. She was wearing her favorite dark blue gown, since the meal was informal. As any dinner dress she owned was made with short sleeves. Her gloves did not go up her arm far enough to hide her bruise. Thankfully the scrape on her forehead was hidden by a fringe of curls.
She exited her room the same time Harry left his.
Of course, he noticed the bruise right away. “What the devil?“
“From this afternoon. When Lyon called down to Micah that there were intruders in the house and for him to bolt the cellar door and protect me. Micah doused the lantern then. It’s pitch black down there. When I heard the screams and shouting I broke away from him to try and get upstairs. I was terrified for Aunt Frances, Sir John, Lyon, and our staff. I made it as far as a wall. Then I got turned around and probably ran into the same wall again, I think, but that time with my head.” She pointed to her forehead, shrugged. “I’m fine really, Harry. It was my stupidity. I should have remained where I was as Micah instructed.”
Harry placed his hand on her good arm. He gently pulled her to him. Carefully, he whisked away the golden fringe of curls at her forehead. He kissed the bruising scrape ever so gently. “Did you clean it, sweet?” He paused to study the scrape.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“I won’t kiss the bruise on your arm, it looks quite painful and I’m certain any pressure to it will hurt. So, I’ll just kiss your lips instead.” He placed a chaste kiss to her lips, retreating quickly. He knew she was exhausted emotionally and physically from the long day. He placed her hand in the crook of his arm and led her leisurely toward the stairs. Then he asked, “What were you and Micah doing in the cellar, Rowena?”
“Oh. I guess no one yet knows.” She smiled brightly then. “There hasn’t been time with Lyon being wounded to tell anyone. Micah and I found a book titled John of Taunton, and it was written by none other than Abbot Whiting. We checked it right away. Micah cut the inside covering and found a map of the Abbey tunnels, with the locations of the treasure marked on it.”
“Amazing!” Harry stopped in his tracks. Laughed. A wide smile remained on his face. “So we have some good news this day!”
“Yes. Quite. The Tor tunnel appears to lead from Stonedown to the Tor. From the map it appears the Secretum Domini, which is how it was marked on William’s map, is located in a tunnel somewhere just beyond the outside library wall.”
“Secretum Domini. The Secret of our Lord, here, at Stonedown?” Harry shook his head in disbelief. Laughed again. “All this t
ime. We never knew. Did you find the tunnel opening?”
“No, there was not time. But the spring in the cellar is marked with a celtic cross, a goddess symbol and the word Avallach, which went unnoticed, at least in my time here, because the marks are so faint. Nearly worn away. It’s highly unlikely anyone held up a lantern that close to the marker stone before today. Looking around, Micah determined the older cellar and spring alcove date from possibly pre-Roman or Roman times, with the kitchen storehouse being built around the thirteenth century.”
“Avalon. Wonderful.”
“Yes.” Still smiling, Rowena nodded.
Harry stopped her just before they descended the stairs. He nearly forgot to tell her.
“Rowena. There is something I must tell you.” Harry’s expression grew serious then.
“Yes, Harry?” she asked warily, raising an eyebrow. He looked so solemn and serious.
“In Lyon’s lucid moments he told us that the men were not only looking for the leaden box.”
“Oh? What else were they looking for, Harry?”
His hands moved to her shoulders. “They were to take you to someone, whom and why we do not know. Lyon lapsed back into unconsciousness before he could tell us more, if he even knew more.”
Rowena stared at Harry. She blinked. Blinked again.
Rowena, are you well?” Harry inquired with concern when he saw the color drain from her face.
“I-I think so.”
“There is nothing to worry about, love. You are safe with us. We’ll let nothing happen to you. I can promise you as long as there is breath in my body none shall take you. I’ve told you because I need you to be especially aware of your surroundings at all times. You’ll not be left alone, even for a moment. Nor should you even try to go anywhere alone. I know you won’t appreciate myself, or Micah, or one of the others hovering near at all times, but it is necessary. Until we find out who this person is and stop him.”
“Very well, Harry. I understand.” Rowena nodded slowly. She felt ill. Dizzy. It was fear she felt flooding through her. She recognized the overwhelming, debilitating feeling. It paralyzed her. Took the breath from her body. Someone meant her harm.
Raw fear, just like when she knew her brother accepted the suit from Dalworth for her, despite her protests. Then forced her to be in Dalworth’s company alone, where after she found herself to be locked in the room with him, the lecher touched her, roughly fondled her then hit her in the face when she fought him. He pushed her. Hard enough to send her sprawling upon her back on the floor. And then…and then once she was on the floor she was pinned beneath him, her skirts were lifted and Dalworth forced himself upon her. The actual act of violation lasted naught but minutes. But it was painful and disgusting. She felt so vile and dirty. But the horrible memory of the deed and the helplessness she felt haunted her since.
Her screams went unanswered by her own brother in the next room. Dalworth was an evil man, no less so her own brother. Rowena felt she was tainted by the act. As the years passed the fear lessened. She no longer felt as dirty. The memory lost most of the fear she felt that day and months after.
The fear of someone trapping and harming her with none near who would help her consumed her directly after the incident. She still feared to be alone in the presence of any men save Sir John and the Marchese, before his passing of course. Until Harry. Then his friends. She never feared any of them. They were all kind. Treated her with respect.
She liked Harry’s touch, yearned for it. Wanted to know what coupling with Harry would be like. She knew it would be different than the day she was violated. Rowena wanted to erase the horrible memory of Dalworth’s invasion of her body forever. Because she knew with Harry it would be different. She hoped to even enjoy it, how could she not when she enjoyed, even craved his touch thus far?
She wanted the fear to go away. She thought she had put it behind her until now. This moment. She was immobilized with it, all over again, was hardly able to breathe the way it gripped her and took hold. Her chest felt heavy and tight. Someone wanted to harm her again! Why? What would they do to her if they took her?
Rowena did not realize she sat down upon the first stair, brought her knees close to her body. Or that she clung to the banister with such force the knuckles on her hand went white. Her other hand clasped Harry’s so tightly she felt his pulse, or was it hers? Nor did she realize she trembled all over, or that tears streamed down her face. She heard Harry’s voice as he talked to her, but was unable to comprehend his words. She tried to understand him. Forced herself to listen to his soothing voice. “Rowena? Can you hear me?” She nodded very weakly then shook her head. She did not hear him until then.
She felt herself lifted into his arms. She laid her head against his shoulder, clutched at the lapels of his coat. He carried her back to her bedchamber. Placed her gently on the pearl silk coverlet of the massive, Jacobean testered bed.
“Rowena, speak to me, please. What can I do to ease what ails you, my love?” Harry whispered.
She saw his eyes were full of concern.
“I must tell you something, Harry.” Rowena finally found her voice, though it was faint. She feared telling him, but she had to. It needed to be done. Before tonight.
“Very well. Let me call for a maid to fetch your aunt for you.” He rose, bellowed out the door.
Rowena heard Betsy’s voice mingling with Harry’s in the hallway, then moments later Harry was beside her again. She clung to his hands as he sat on the bed beside her. “I thought my fear was all but gone, but I must tell you so you understand. So you do not think me frail. Just promise you won’t hate me after.”
“I could never hate you, Rowena, nor do I think you frail. Tell me, please, sweet?”
“I planned to tell you before, before… we, oh! I’ll just say it, get it done! My brother forced me to be in company alone with Dalworth after my brother accepted his suit for my hand, and h-he hurt me, Harry. Dalworth forced himself upon me. I fought and screamed, and no one came to help me. My brother allowed it. He was in the next room. I tried to get out, the door was locked. It was because of that and the unhappy marriage between my parents, seeing my mother’s suffering and pain that I decided never to marry. I thought the fear was gone. It took such a long time to put it behind me.”
Rowena took a deep breath and continued, “Until just now, when you said someone wanted to take me, the fear came back. It immobilized me, I was unable to breath and felt paralyzed, but I’m better now.” She choked on a sob. “I just wanted you to know, is all. I knew I must tell you before…” Tears slid down her cheeks as she turned to look at him.
Harry kissed her temple and hugged her trembling body to him. “I’m glad you told me, Rowena. I want you to know, this changes nothing between us. I still feel the same about you. I still want you.” He pulled back, looked into her eyes. Swept an errant curl away from her damp cheek. He cupped her face in his large hands, wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I know you do not wish to marry, but I ask you now, Rowena, if you will at least consider marrying me as we go forward. Think about it as we come to know one another better. I will never harm you, force you physically to accept my attentions, or force you to marry me. I know you need time to trust me, but I beg you to simply consider the idea of marrying me, Rowena. For that is my wish. To have you as my wife.”
“You want to marry me, even after I told –“
“Yes.” Harry interrupted, smiled tenderly as he gazed into her eyes. “I want to marry you, Rowena. I never imagined nor wanted any other as my wife or Countess but you, Rowena. From nearly the first moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted you to be mine. This is the truth. What Dalworth did to you is no fault of yours. It does not change what I feel for you.”
“Marriage is to give another complete control over-“
“Marriage to me requires simply trusting that I will not exert complete control over you. That we will simply share a life together as man and wife, both being able to make decisi
ons in said life.”
“Oh?” Rowena wiped another tear away. Gave him a small smile. “Sharing a life together as man and wife. Hmm? I will consider marrying you, Harry. That sounds very nice. Sharing a life together. Happy, even.”
“I assure you, Rowena, that I shall go to the ends of the earth to make certain you are happy. And I will give you however much time you need to make your decision, sweet.” He kissed her. It was a tender, sweet kiss.
“And we will still…” she blushed, “you will still show me more of passion?”
“If that is your desire. Yes. Whenever you are ready.”
“It is my desire. I never feared your touch, Harry. Your touch does strange and wonderful things to my body. And, I wish now, more than ever, to erase that horrible memory from my past.”
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