Rowena was in awe of the feeling that she was completely joined with Harry. She wondered at the feel of his muscles rippling beneath her hands as he moved over her, thrusting deeply inside her. His lips moved to one breast, then the other then back to her lips. He kissed her deeply, passionately. She arched against him when his mouth once again covered her breast, his teeth lightly grazing her nipple. She realized she felt him deeper inside her when she arched. She began to move her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, positioning her hips to feel him deeper. Then she moved faster, increasing the pace. She felt hot, liquid heat spread through her body as she bucked beneath him. When Harry began to move deeper within her, Rowena moaned softly, slid her arms about his neck, lifted her hips to take all of him inside her, as deep as he could go, finally she wrapped her long slender legs about him. “Can I do this? Is this good?”
“Yes. God yes!” Harry loudly groaned his pleasure, moved faster, deeper. She was so hot, so wet. So damn tight. And he was so deep inside her. His fingers slipped between them to tease the spot that he knew would bring her release again. He had been holding back, knew he didn’t have much longer before he came. His balls were tight, every muscle in his body was rigid, screaming for his own release.
Noting Rowena’s breathing quicken, hearing her soft, low moans of pleasure, he worked the nub faster, applied more pressure. He pushed himself deeper inside her, felt her arch, her hips buck up to meet him, felt himself go deeper inside her still. He held on until she shattered, smothered her scream of pleasure with his kiss, waited until she lay back, gasping.
When he felt her sheath throb around him, he thrust faster, went deep felt his muscles tense. He wanted to roar gloriously when the exquisite, hot pleasure consumed him, coursed through his veins like fire. He remembered Micah was right outside the door. Instead he buried his face in Rowena’s hair. The blinding heat engulfed him. Carried him. The sheer ecstasy of their joining shook his soul. He hung in that place of ecstasy.
He raised up, looked into those stormy blue eyes, fell into the crystalline storm, pulled nearly all the way out of her then drove back in once, twice, thrusting deep as he went over the edge, shuddering, groaning, exploding with the power of his release. Never had he felt so glorious. Breathing heavily, he moved slowly inside her still after his seed was spilled. Harry sighed deeply, sated to his toes as he collapsed on top of her. Her legs, still tightly wrapped around him, fell to intertwine with his, as he heaved atop her. Moments later, he kissed her lingeringly.
Never had Harry felt so completely one with a woman, so completely joined. Never had his release been so powerful. It was more than sex, more than lust. He knew that. Once he regained enough of his wits to move, he rolled carefully to lie beside her, engulfed her in his arms, kissed her again. “You’re so beautiful. That was incredible, my sweet.”
“Is it always so overwhelmingly wonderful?” Wide-eyed and still panting, Rowena asked him. She lay boneless, still unable to move.
Harry grinned happily. “With us it shall be, love. It is not so with everyone. Some are not suited to one another even in this. And some do not care for the other’s pleasure.”
“And were I to marry you, would we do this often?”
“At least once a day, but I think morning and night for certain, and perhaps mid-day once and a while, even more if you desired. I could never deny you this, Rowena. We can do this as often as you like, especially if we marry.”
“Oh. And if I marry you, then I should be prepared to birth fifteen children at least. For indulging in this pleasure that often surely would lead to many, many children.”
He laughed, nuzzling his chin against her shoulder. “Not quite that many, I think half a dozen children at most, love. That would leave us the time and the strength to still make love.” He chuckled, kissed her temple, “There are a couple of hours left before dawn.” He yawned. “Rest now, Love. We don’t know what this day will bring.”
Chapter Thirteen
Harry opened his eyes as a soft knock sounded on the door. “Yes?” He called, after he remembered he was in Rowena’s bed, in her chamber.
“Harry, Lyon is not doing well. You best come.”
It was Micah’s voice.
“Let me get dressed. What time is it?” Harry sat up.
“Quarter after five.” Micah answered through the door.
Harry rose and lit a lamp. He picked his trousers up off the floor while reaching for his shirt hanging over the back of the chair.
“Oh, no! Harry, mayhap we should send for Lyon’s family?” His Angel murmured, sat up, tossed her tangled golden curls over her shoulder revealing her lovely naked torso. “I’ll get dressed too. I’ll be right there.” She reached for the robe at the foot of her bed, stood as she slipped in to it.
“Perhaps you should sleep, love. It’s early yet.” He whispered as he came beside her. He paused to place a quick kiss her to her lips before shrugging into his shirt.
“No, I couldn’t sleep for worrying about Lyon.” She shook her head. She walked across the room and removed a simple golden brown gown from her stand-up wardrobe on the other side of the room. She then removed a chemise from her wardrobe press.
After Harry pulled on his boots, he tucked his shirt in. He stopped before Rowena. He took her hands in his, kissed both her palms, then her lips. “I’ll see you downstairs. I must duck into my room to change into fresh clothing.”
“Yes.” Rowena raised on her tip-toes and gave him a quick kiss. She smiled. So did he. “As soon as I dress I’ll be down.” Harry nodded and left the room. Before he opened the door, he gave his beautiful angel one last longing look.
Since the situation with Lyon was serious, and it was before sunrise, Rowena merely braided her hair into one long thick braid, tied it with a ribbon and left it to trail down her back. She splashed water on her face, donned her chemise, petticoat, gown, stockings and half boots, and hurried downstairs.
Lyon was delirious, pale and thrashing, his brow burning. Charlie and Harry were trying to hold him down. Micah wiped his brow with a cool cloth.
Rowena rushed right to him, felt his brow. “Has Doctor Price been sent for?”
“Yes,” Charlie said. “Mrs. Brimble said she sent someone right away. That was ten minutes ago.”
“First, I will go make up one of the poultices for infection the apothecary left us last night. I’ll have Mrs. Brimble heat the tea Mr. Smythe left and heat some broth also. He lost a lot of blood and needs sustenance. It will no doubt need to be forced down him. We cannot let him get too weak. I need to get to Chalice Well and the White Springs, today! Then the Tor,” she said emphatically. She lifted the covers and the bandage covering Lyon’s wound, looked at the raw wound closely.
“Is it infected?” Harry asked. The concern in his voice was evident.
“It doesn’t look bad, but it may just be the beginning. I am no doctor. Harry, I need water from the healing wells to cleanse it. Then I need to go to the Tor as I told you last evening, Micah.”
“Why the Tor?” Harry inquired. He looked to Micah also, for he seemed to be a conspirator in his Angel’s plan.
Micah was clearly uneasy with the idea, whatever it was.
“Lady Rowena calls the Archangel Michael from the Tower, Harry. I told her last night we would find a way to get her up there this morning.”
Harry glared at Micah.
“Rowena, going up to the Tor at this time is too dangerous. The hill is barren, there is nowhere to take cover anywhere on the Tor. We, any who went up including you, would be easy targets for a marksman. Can you not call the Archangel Michael from here?”
“I can try, Harry.” Rowena could not endanger all of them, surely. She looked worriedly at the pale face of Lyon. He moaned loudly.
“If it doesn’t work calling for the Archangel here, we’ll figure something out.” Harry’s hands rested on her shoulders. “If there were more of us…”
Rowena gave him a small smile and nodded in understand
ing. She covered Lyon’s leg again, wiped his brow with a cool cloth and turned to leave the room.
“Is there anything we can do for him while you are in the kitchen?” Micah questioned.
“Sponge him down with cold water as you were before, his fever is rising.” Rowena offered. “His brow, his chest, his neck.”
Harry exited with her. “I’m walking with you.” He reached out, entwined his hand with hers. He leaned very close to her ear to whisper, “You are not too sore this morning are you love?”
“No. I’m perfectly fine, Harry. Wonderful, in fact.”
The large, glorious smile she brandished warmed Harry to his toes.
Rowena cleaned Lyon’s wound, removed the old bandages. She then applied the poultice brought by Mr. Smythe, the apothecary, the previous evening. Harry and Micah helped her to get some tea and broth down him. She bathed him with a sponge and a bit of soapy, lavender water, except for the area of his anatomy above his thigh, beneath his nightshirt, which Micah and Charlie took care of whilst she turned her back. They also changed him into a fresh nightshirt. With Rowena’s help they removed the soiled bed linens and replaced them with fresh ones.
Rowena gathered the soiled items and was about to leave the room when the thundering sound of many horses hooves were heard on Stonedown Lane, then nearer still on the Manor drive outside.
Closest to the window, Micah peeked out. A broad smile chased the somber expression from his face. “Aha! Saints be praised. The Cornwall Contingent has arrived!”
“How many?” Harry asked. He smiled expectantly.
“About twenty. Maybe more,” Micah informed Harry. He grinned happily.
“Thank heaven!” Harry sighed in relief. He breathed deeply.
Frances and Sir John came in then. They agreed to watch Lyon while the others went outside. A maid took the soiled linens from Rowena.
“Trevan Chynoweth, what took you so long?” Harry grinned broadly as he hastened down the stone steps.
“You said bring my relatives, Harry! I had to send for them from all over Cornwall. The moment they all arrived at Menadue, we left. You know how many kin I have. We stopped by the Grange just now, and Woollard sent us on to Stonedown. He was certain we are needed immediately.” The tallest, and largest of the men slid off his horse, took Harry’s offered hand and slapped him on the shoulder. He extended an arm to Micah and clapped him on the back.
“You are sorely needed here, my friend!” Harry beamed.
Rowena was amazed at the size of the man. He was bigger than even Wyldhurst. He had a head full of black, unruly curls. She noticed the bright, brilliant blue of his eyes even from where she stood. It appeared this man was hewn from the gray granite of Cornwall, for even beneath his layers of clothing it was evident that his body was solid muscle.
“You can always count on the Cornish!” Micah said as he turned to greet some of the other men.
“Damn straight.” The man who was obviously Trevan Chynoweth then quickly apologized when he saw Rowena waiting patiently on the steps. “My apologies for my language, my Lady, I did not see you there.”
Rowena blushed as twenty something men noted her presence at once and proceeded to give her their gentlemanly nods or bows. “I take no offense, Your Grace.” Thank heavens she remembered he was a Duke! Though wearing the clothes of a gentleman, this man did not appear at first glance to be a Duke. He seemed much more earthy than other such grand gentlemen of his ilk. “We are very happy you’ve arrived. I welcome you all to Stonedown.” It was an awe inspiring sight to see so many able-bodied men, all rough-hewn, many of them large and muscled like the Duke, including the members of the Avalon society she was already acquainted with, in one place. Harry, Micah and Charlie looked more than a little relieved to receive reinforcements. Rowena felt much more at ease knowing Harry and his friends were not spread so thin.
Harry motioned for Rowena to join him. Rowena quickly came beside him and was given quick introduction to the new arrivals. She met Trevan Chynoweth, Duke of Penrose, his two brothers, Tristan and Tremayne; their cousins Julyan, August and Arthur Trevelyan; Gabriel Chynoweth, the Earl of St. Mabyn, and his brother, Thomas; and two fellow Cornishmen, Deveril Pendarves and Rheese Carlyon, who were all members of the Avalon Society. The others were all related to Trevan Chynoweth or his cousins by marriage or blood.
Quickly, Harry, Micah and Charlie relayed the seriousness of their current situation, including Lyon’s condition to Trevan and all his relatives gathered around them. Wyldhurst came out, to help with the explanations and informed them that Newt was also in residence but remained at his post on guard duty.
After the Cornish contingent were briefed, Harry began, “First, I need you Trevan, and eight of your men to escort myself, Micah and Rowena to the healing wells down the lane and then up to the tower on the Tor. The Avalon Society members can at once begin guard duty here at Stonedown. We’ve not had much sleep here these past few nights. Nine of the ten remaining relatives can stay at the Grange, and supervise the opening of the tunnel, guard the abbey grounds, and take over preparations for the Abbey Faire.” To them Harry instructed, “Take a meal at the Grange, get settled and I’ll be there after I come back from the Tor to go over everything with you.”
He continued, “I want one relative, whom Trevan will choose, to pretend to be a traveler and stay at the George and Pilgrim in the town. There are several people we are watching, and the six of us already here are now well known in the town. Micah will brief that person and give you a purse to pay for your stay there.”
Trevan began, “You said Elveston has not arrived? I wonder what happened to him. He didn’t have twenty relatives to gather, so he should be here by now.”
Harry nodded. He was hoping Elveston hadn’t fallen prey to mischief en route to Glastonbury. True, Harry sent Jack first to the Archbishop of Canterbury on a personal errand, but theoretically he should have arrived before Trevan.
Frances stepped out and informed the entire crowd that breakfast was being prepared and would be served within the half hour. She insisted they all stay, those going on to the Grange could leave after she fed them all a good meal. The stable lads emerged and took the Cornishmen’s horses.
Rowena returned to Lyon’s bedside, as did Micah and Charlie. They left Harry, Aunt Frances and Sir John to entertain the multitude of newly arrived guests. Doctor Price arrived. Other than the main cause of worry, the fever, he felt Lyon was doing decently. Doctor Price said the wound did not appear festered, but was still seeping some blood. Only time would tell. He instructed them to continue doing what they were doing, alert him to any change, and he planned to stop by the next morning. He assured them they would know within two days time if he was going to improve or decline in condition.
Three quarters of an hour later, Mrs. Brimble came into the parlour turned sick room with Harry on her heels. Harry bid them to come join the party for breakfast, while Mrs. Brimble watched their charge. Rowena was determined to stay with Lyon. Harry argued she should come eat as Lyon was now resting quieter. Rowena acquiesced, insisting that first she must go upstairs to at least pin up her hair.
“’Tis not necessary, Rowena. All know you’ve been tending to Lyon since before dawn. None expect to see you dressed for social niceties.” Harry pulled her along toward the gallery which was the only space large enough left in Stonedown to feed such a large group. They now numbered around thirty. Micah and Charlie followed a few paces behind them.
“I fear I look a fright!” she protested.
Harry smiled down at her. “Nonsense. You’ve never looked lovlier.” He winked at her.
She watched as his gaze became dark and intense. Tingled inside, knowing by the look in his eyes that he wanted her right now. And this morning, she was privileged to know exactly what he wanted to do to her. Of course, she blushed. She leaned closer. “You are only saying this because I think you are very proud of yourself this morning, my Lord,” she scolded in a whisper, so his ears
alone could hear.
He brandished a wolfish grin. He whispered back, “Indeed, I am proud of myself, my Lady. I think I did a fine job of ravishing you in the wee hours this morning. You look quite sated, and very pleased.” He laughed when she playfully punched his arm. “Indeed, a fine job.” The grin remained on his face.
The party enjoyed their breakfast. They were about to leave the tables in the gallery when Hanford announced a rider just entered through the gates.
Harry and Micah jumped up from the table, running through the wide gallery toward the entry hall. Wyldhurst followed, pausing only long enough to grab a pistol from his bag left on the chair he sat in for his vigil upon the safe.
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