Lords of Retribution (Lords of Avalon series)

by Richards, K. R.

  “Mr. Madingly?”

  Wenna breathed a sigh of relief. It was Gabriel. Thank God.

  “Are there problems, Madingly? I thought I heard shouting from outside.” Gabriel entered and looked to wide-eyed Wenna.

  “We were having a bit of a disagreement,” Wenna offered.

  “I will wait outside for you Miss Penrose, unless you are ready to leave now,” Gabriel offered. His crystalline eyes darkened considerably as they rested upon John Madingly.

  Wenna nodded, “I’ll be out in just a few minutes, Gabriel. We were nearly finished.”

  Gabriel nodded.” I’ll be right outside the Church door. I’ll leave it open,” he looked warily again at Madingly.

  Wenna gave him an appreciative nod.

  John Madingly removed his hat and ruffled his hair, “I apologize, Miss Penrose. I have never been jilted before.”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Madingly. I hope you get your parish in Australia.”

  “So, do I. Good day to you, Miss Penrose,” still red-faced, he turned and stalked toward the side door. The path led to the rectory.

  “Good day, Mr. Madingly.” Wenna called after him. She hastily turned and exited the church. She sighed in relief. Thank Goodness Gabriel showed up when he did.

  “Problems, Wenna?” Gabriel asked her as she joined him and Senny at the church door.

  “No. It was a disagreement, is all.” At the moment, Wenna truly did not want to speak of her personal business. She was certain whatever she said to Gabriel would get back to Trevan. If she wanted to hold the upper hand with Trevan, he could not know her relationship with John Madingly was completely severed.

  “I might be mistaken, but I thought I heard him shouting at you,” Gabriel persisted.

  “He was. He is fine now, Gabriel. We are taking a break from one another for a time. For now the engagement is cancelled.” Wenna gave Gabriel a nod and moved to walk ahead of him and Senny so they could not question her further.

  Behind Wenna, Senny offered Gabriel a relieved smile. He winked at her.

  Two o’clock came and went. It was dinnertime before Trevan Chynoweth, the Duke of Penrose, arrived at Callywith Manor.

  Wenna had begun to believe he would not show. Disappointment and doubt began to creep in hours before.

  When he did arrive, it was with a bouquet of red roses from Menadue’s garden in hand. He was dressed more formally than he usually was when he came to visit at Callywith.

  “I am sorry to be so tardy, Miss Penrose. There were problems in one of the mines. Seven men were involved in a cave-in but we dug them out. I had to return to Menadue to change. You did receive my message, didn’t you?” Trevan handed her the red roses.

  “No.” Wenna shook her head. “I did not receive a message. Thank you for the roses, Trevan.”

  “Oh.” Trevan looked worried. “I am sorry, Wenna. I sent Old Morcum’s nephew to bring a message directly to you. I will find out what happened to him first thing tomorrow, I promise. Next time I will make certain I send someone more trustworthy.”

  There were frequently problems at the mines. Unlike other overlords, Trevan did not stand idly by when his people were in trouble. Wenna knew this. “Was anyone hurt or worse?”

  “Ansell Newth broke his leg. Everyone else is fine save for a few scrapes and cuts.”

  Wenna clucked her tongue. “Poor Ansell. It is good that no one was seriously injured, Trevan. I wish your message had arrived, I was worried.”

  “More likely you were contemplating how best to murder me, and I don’t blame you. I did try, Wenna.” He shook his head in frustration.

  “I know you can’t help trouble in the mine, Trevan.” Wenna smiled. “I trust that you did send Morcum’s nephew with a message. The lad is young. Perhaps he was sidetracked. Come to the dining room, we’ve just sat down. Gabriel is here.”

  “Gabriel’s here?” He chuckled. “What a surprise.”

  Wenna decided she would let Trevan by this once.

  After dinner, Trevan took Wenna for a stroll in her garden.

  “Did you have any problems breaking your engagement with Mr. Madingly?” Trevan asked her as he led her slowly along the pathway.

  “It went as well as it could go, I suppose. I just told him I needed some space and time to think, that I felt it unwise to remain engaged at this time. He was upset.”

  “Gabriel mentioned the same to me. He said he seemed angry. Do you want me to talk to him, Wenna?” Trevan offered.

  “No, Trevan. I say, leave him be. Let him get over it alone.”

  “So then, you are my girl again?” Trevan grinned at her.

  “No.” Wenna shook her head. “I am my on my own right now Trevan, and no one’s woman. You are merely courting me,” Wenna said pointedly. An amused smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

  Trevan’s grin faded. Well, he’d have to play her game, even if he didn’t like it. “Very well then, Miss Penrose, will you join me tomorrow afternoon for a drive and a picnic?”

  “Where will we be going?”

  “That is a surprise. I’ll come for you at eleven.”

  “Eleven will work well for me.”

  “Very good.” Trevan had hoped they would end in the summerhouse and make love as they’d used to. He could already see that Wenna was going to make things difficult for him. He knew he’d do whatever it took to get her back. Still he was impatient. He wanted to kiss her. When he stopped walking and turned toward her, he saw her close her eyes in anticipation of his kiss. He decided she could wait.

  Two could play at this game. He allowed his fingers to trail lightly down her arm then he asked, “Do you have something in your eye, Wenna?”

  Wenna’s eyes flew open. “What?” There was no mistaking his amused grin. She squared her shoulders. “No, I don’t have anything in my eye.” She sighed then cleared her throat. “I must be weary. Perhaps we should go inside the Manor?”

  “As you wish, Miss Penrose.” Trevan grinned boldly. How he loved to tease Wenna.

  Wenna accepted the arm Trevan offered her. He led her back into the Manor and to the drawing room to join the others.

  Trevan had already planned to stay the night at Fairy Cross. At eleven o’clock sharp, he drove Gabriel’s smart phaeton up the drive of Callywith Manor.

  “Hello, Trevan.” Senny greeted him with a wide smile as she made her way back toward the manor. She carried a basket of cut roses on her arm.

  “Miss Zenny.” Trevan nodded as he stepped down from the curricle. He followed her into the entry hall.

  “Wenna waits for you in the parlour,” Senny advised him.

  Trevan sucked in his breath at the sight of his lovely Wenna. Gone were her everyday clothes of brown and dark, practical colors. Today she wore a rich sapphire colored walking dress. Her brilliant auburn hair was more ornately coiffed than usual. It pleased him to know she thought today was special.

  She smiled like the Wenna of old. She gave him a genuine, happy smile. God, but Wenna Penrose was a beautiful woman! Her gown was well fitting and showed off her shapely figure. The woman had curves in all the right places, as he well remembered. It was going to be difficult to keep his hands from her today, this he knew!

  “You look beautiful, Wenna,” Trevan forced himself to speak.

  Wenna felt her cheeks stain pink. She couldn’t remember the last time Trevan had made her blush. “Thank you, Trevan.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Let me just say hello to Robert. Will you join me?”

  “Of course.”

  Once on their way, the couple fell into easy conversation, talking of this and that, whatever came to mind. Trevan even relayed some particularly interesting news regarding some of their acquaintances here in Cornwall he had heard while in London.

  “Where are we going?” Wenna finally asked when she noted the direction they were heading.

  “To Restormel. It’s a beautiful day, and I was thinking it is a per
fect setting for our picnic. We always enjoy ourselves there.” Trevan looked to her.

  Wenna remembered the last time they had gone to Restormel Castle. It must have been a year ago. They stayed the entire afternoon and made love several times. She smiled wistfully. “I always enjoy Restormel.”

  “Gabriel’s Cook, Mrs. Gaddy, has provided us a wonderful meal. We’ll just enjoy the day together, Wenna.”

  “I plan to.” Wenna smiled at him. She felt a flutter inside when she noted his blue eyes had darkened. At that moment, she realized she still might be in love with Trevan Chynoweth. She smiled again. Wenna felt carefree and light-hearted for the first time in many months. He gave her that devastating grin and she laughed happily.

  Trevan felt relaxed and happy when they arrived at the castle ruins. He tucked a quilt beneath his arm and lifted the large basket from the back of the phaeton. He took his lady’s hand with his free one, entwining his fingers with hers. It felt like old times. Yet, he knew the trouble between them remained, even if it lay beneath the surface. He knew one romantic day at Restormel would not set things completely right. He only hoped it would be a good beginning for their future together.

  Hand in hand, they walked up the hill toward the round castle ruins covered with creepers and ivy. They crossed the earthen bridge that stretched over the now dry moat and entered the castle walls.

  “There’s a nice shady spot over there, shall we have our luncheon?” Trevan asked her as he pointed to one shaded area in particular.

  “Yes!” Wenna beamed at him.

  Trevan spread out the rug. He helped his lady to sit. When he lowered himself onto the blanket beside her, she was already unloading the basket.

  “Oh my, Mrs. Gaddy provided a veritable feast for us.” Wenna removed several wrapped bundles from the basket.

  “Mrs. Gaddy is a remarkable cook. It’s a wonder Gabriel stays looking so fit.” Trevan unwrapped one bundle and removed a piece of roasted chicken. He took a large bite. “The chicken is delicious!” he said with his mouth full.

  “Look, Mrs. Gaddy’s cinnamon bread. Oh my, biscuits, jam and clotted cream!” Wenna opened the crock and smiled at Trevan.

  “I might have mentioned to Mrs. Gaddy you adore her clotted cream.” Trevan winked then grinned at her. “There should be saffron cake in there as well, for I told her you quite fancied it.”

  Wenna removed the saffron cake. She froze when she saw a large black velvet box at the bottom of the basket. She lifted it up and asked, “What is this, Trevan?”

  “It is the Chynoweth Sapphires, Wenna,” he said softly. “I want you to have them, so you know I am serious, when I tell you I still want you to marry me. I want you, and you alone, for my Duchess. If you don’t have an answer for me today, then I can wait. Whenever you decide you will have me, Wenna, we’ll set the date and be married. We’ll get the ring sized to fit you then.”

  It was a tradition for the Chynoweth Sapphires to be given from the Duke, or the ducal heir, to his intended bride upon their engagement. The tradition began it the sixteenth century. In this case, it was the new Duke, giving them to the woman he wanted to be his Duchess. Wenna’s eyes misted. She lifted the lid.

  “Oh Trevan, they are beautiful. I’ve only seen them once or twice when your mother wore them for special occasions,” Wenna exclaimed as she gazed upon the sapphire necklace, earrings, bracelet and ring. She found the fact that he gave them to her today so stirring. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. This was his way of telling her he truly wanted her to marry him. Her heart constricted. Oh, she did care for Trevan. She was certain she still loved him. Could he truly be the kind of husband she wanted him to be? That was the only question left in her mind.

  “Thank you!” Wenna said softly as her eyes misted again. Wenna was on her knees still, she leaned over intending to kiss Trevan on the cheek.

  As she came toward him, Trevan turned to face her. Her lips landed against his. He captured those full lips and kissed her fully and completely. He took the box containing the Chynoweth sapphires and set it and his piece of chicken upon the old quilt. One large arm wrapped around her, while his other hand fisted in her hair. Their kiss deepened. God how he’d missed holding Wenna in his arms. She smelled of rosemary and lavender, fresh and clean. Her body molded soft and warm against him. Since the day she sent him away telling him she would marry another, he had prayed for the chance to hold her again. There were times he thought this day might never come. He savored the kiss, drawing it out.

  Wenna’s heart thundered in her chest. It felt so right being in Trevan’s arms, him kissing her again. She had never wanted John to kiss her, and thankfully, he had only once. She had not enjoyed it.

  At this moment, she wanted Trevan to kiss her and more! Yet reason screamed they could not do more. It was far too soon. She pushed that particular thought away while she simply enjoyed the passionate kiss they shared.

  Though Trevan wanted to lay her back upon the rug covering the soft green grass and make her his again, he knew it was not the wisest of ideas. He continued the kiss for a few more moments then pulled away. He smiled down at her. He dipped his head again and allowed his lips to feather against hers once more.

  “You are so beautiful, Wenna,” he whispered huskily. He caressed her cheek. “We had best eat our luncheon.” He released his hold on her.

  Wenna straightened. She smoothed her skirts and smiled at Trevan. “Yes. You said the chicken is good?”

  “It’s delicious.”

  After they ate their fill, they conversed while they shared another glass of wine. Trevan pulled Wenna to her feet. They strolled about the castle ruins, hand in hand, while talking. They observed and shared details of the ruins.

  When it began to sprinkle, they ducked into a shallow alcove beneath a thick arch where heavy vines provided a canopy of sorts. There was little other cover available. The castle roof had been gone for centuries.

  There was barely enough space for them to stand and remain dry. Trevan gathered Wenna in his arms again and pulled her close against him. “This little shower shouldn’t last long.”

  Wenna looked up and studied Trevan’s face. He was so handsome with his jet-black, curly hair and his strong chiseled features set off by the brilliant blue of his eyes. The fact that his sensuous lips were most often curved upward in a smile aided in softening the harsh angles of his face.

  There was certainly no larger man in Cornwall, of that she was certain. Wenna herself was tall for a woman, yet Trevan stood a full head taller than she did. He was twice as broad in the shoulders as was she. He was solid muscle and looked as if he were hewn from Cornish granite.

  Could she be happy if she married him? She was starting to believe she truly could. If they were married, she would live at Menadue, and there would be no distance between them then.

  “What thoughts are running through that beautiful head of yours, Wenna?” Trevan whispered. In all of Britain, he had never set eyes on a more beautiful woman. There was not a woman upon the Earth who could start a fire inside him the way Wenna did.

  Wenna smiled, “I was just thinking what an ansum man you are, Trevan.”

  “Were you now, Wen Pen? Funny thing, I was just telling myself what an ansum woman I am holding in my arms at this moment.” He grinned. Then the grin faded and he spoke in a serious tone. “I mean that, Wenna. You are the only woman I’ve ever been attracted to. The only one I’ve ever wanted. The only one I can imagine spending the rest of my life with.”

  His voice was husky. Wenna rested her palms against his rock-hard chest and lifted up on tiptoe. She pressed her lips to his.

  He accepted her kiss hungrily.

  They kissed each other with fire and passion. Neither one of them held back. Their hands skimmed each other’s bodies igniting more fires, while their kiss deepened and the flames burned higher.

  Trevan’s hands moved to the curves of her bottom. He pulled her tightly to him and thrust his hips toward her, grinding
his hardening cock against her. The friction felt wonderful. He did it again.

  Wenna’s hand slid down Trevan’s chest over the waist of his trousers and lower still. Her fingers curved over the outline of his hard length. She massaged him through the fabric of his trousers. Her other hand moved to unfasten his trousers. Caution had been thrown to the wind. She knew only that she wanted Trevan, she wanted this. It had been far too long. She wanted him inside her, thrusting deeply and bringing her to sweet release.

  “Sweet Jesu, Wen Pen! I’ll come before we ever get there if you keep touching me like that!” Trevan breathed against her ear as his hand began to inch up her skirts on one side.

  His task of raising her skirts accomplished, his large hand moved to massage his lady who was already slick and wet with her need.

  Wenna’s hand had just entered his opened trousers and closed about his hard rigid erection when a loud boom echoed throughout the castle.

  The sound echoed inside the small alcove.

  Pieces of stone sprayed down upon them from the top of the arch above them.

  Trevan dropped his lady’s skirts. Taking her by the shoulders, he moved them around so she was in the corner of the alcove, and his body was covering hers. Quickly he fastened his trousers then whirled around. Jesu! His pistol was in his coat, which he left on the damned rug where the remnants of their luncheon remained.

  He saw no one. He looked to the left and above them where the bullet had hit. He surmised the shooter must be somewhere close to the entrance of the castle ruins.

  “Are you well, Wenna?”

  “Yes, I am, Trevan. Did someone just shoot at us?”

  “Yes. I want you to crouch down as low as you can behind me.”

  “Very well.” Wenna did as he asked.

  Trevan bent over and picked up a palm-sized stone. He threw it out into the center yard of the ruins. It landed with a thud upon the ground. Seconds later a shot rang out and grass and dirt flew up about a foot from the rock.