Lord of the Abbey (17 page)

Stonedown’s gentlemen guests, in a jovial mood, were telling tales on one another. Sir John joined in their joyous humor. Rowena and Frances even relayed some amusing tales of their experiences on their travels.

Harry filled in Sir John and Charlie regarding the discovery of another letter as the party made their way from the dining room to the library. “We found a letter written by William Dulac in the old wardrobe in Lady Rowena’s room. Micah and Lady Rowena just finished deciphering it before luncheon.”

The party took their seats at the large library table.

“
What did you find out about St. Bridget’s at Beckery?” Harry questioned Charlie and Sir John.

“
The solicitor, Mr. Godfrey Dunster shall do some checking. No one seems to know who the land St. Bridget’s Chapel is on belongs to,” Sir John presented. “He hopes to get to us within the week.”

“
Mr. Dunster did say that it is highly likely you own the land at the Brides’ Harry. He mentioned that particular piece of land was for centuries, before even Domesday, connected to the Abbey Estate, and since no one about town knows who owns it, there is every chance it was never separated from the Abbey Estate. None of the holders of the manors or farms near to it own the land, he checked,” Charlie explained. He looked to Harry. “We stopped by the Grange on the way back. Everything is in order there.”

“
Good. Thank you, Charlie.” It was Charlie’s way of letting him know the necessary letters were sent.

“
Let’s get to the business of the letter, shall we? Lady Rowena will you do us the honor of reading?” Micah gave her a gracious smile while passing the foolscap upon which they deciphered the letter to her.

“
Thank you, Micah,” Rowena smiled sweetly. This is a short letter, scarcely one page.” Rowena exhaled and began reading.

Dulac Manor, Stonedown, December 1600

The Great Sapphire of Glastonbury was brought to Glastonbury Abbey by St. David of Menevia along with the Great Altare. It was said the Altare and Sapphire were carried by a contingent of angels from Jerusalem to the Abbey at Glaston to prevent any harm from coming to the fine relic made in honor of St. Mary. Though the altare was recorded as found and relinquished to Henry VIII’s coffers by the same men that condemned the most holy martyr, Abbot Whiting, to his death atop Torr Hill, the great sapphire did not meet the same fate. At least not the original Great Sapphire. For that beauteous stone, I saw removed with my own eyes and replaced with another blue carbuncle months before the King’s men laid siege to the Holy Abbey at Glaston.

I watched myself as the sapphire was laid upon velvet in a box. That same box and another containing the sacred cruets brought by St. Joseph of Arimathea, which contained the blood and sweat of our Lord as he was crucified, were stored inside a larger leaden box and taken away from the abbey grounds. I saw them placed in an underground chamber housing the well of a great lady saint in ancient, sacred ground, as holy as that of the Abbey. The Abbot assured me the place was so sacred, that these relics will be protected by St. Mary, St. Bridget and other holy saints, and the great protector, St. Michael. He mentioned also that good King Arthur might wake from his slumber beneath the Torr and guard the treasure dedicated to the Virgin, as well as the sweat and blood of her son.

In the name of St. Mary, and her son, Jesus, woe betide any attempt to remove these relics by persons of ill-intent. Such hypocrisy shall be thwarted by hosts of heavenly saints. So the Abbot told me. I knew no holier man than he. If you believe this to be a curse, then so be it.

If your intent is to protect the holiest of relics and keep them safe you may well be spared. If you be a Dulac, you are expected to honor your hallowed family name and protect this Holy treasure. For the Dulacs have long been known as the guardians of the holy secrets of Glastonbury.

William F. Dulac

“That is all there is.” Rowena exhaled and rose from the table. “If you will excuse me?”

“Where are you off to, dear?” Frances inquired curiously.

“Well, Aunt Frances, as the afternoon is very fine, I thought perhaps I might change and ride out to the Brides at Beckery and look for the well Micah told us about. Since it appears our friend Harry owns that land, I doubt there will be anyone about to care that I was looking in St. Bridget’s Well,” Rowena said purposefully, her eyes shining with excitement. Concealing her mirth, she asked casually, “Would anyone care to join me?”

The sound of chairs moving along the Turkish carpet beneath the library table and a chorus of agreements reached her ears as she hastened from the room, laughing as she went. Rowena lifted her skirts in very unladylike fashion and ran up the stairs, calling for Betsey as she did. She could barely contain her excitement. They might find the Great Sapphire of Glastonbury today! She changed into her riding habit and found herself hurrying back along the upstairs hallway in record time. Not even a quarter of an hour passed when she descended the stairs and found Harry waiting upon her.

“Micah, Charlie, and Lyon will depart direct from the stables. They are loading up various tools we might need to aid in our search. Your aunt is changing and Sir John is seeing to the phaeton for them to come out in. We are to go on ahead, Lady Rowena. Our mounts are ready and await us outside.” Harry held out his hand to assist her from the last several steps. Then, without releasing her gloved hand, he tucked her fingers neatly into the crook of his arm. He was so happy to arrange a few minutes alone with Rowena he began to whistle a cheerful tune as they exited the front door.

Harry assisted Rowena onto the mounting block. He lifted her light as a feather onto her dainty gray and white mare she called Stormy.

He rode his own large, shiny black named, Templar.

Together they rode down Stonedown Lane toward Chilkwell Street. Rowena knew they would head down Bere Lane then take the Roman Road to Beckery. She felt suddenly shy, being completely alone with Harry. Of course they were alone last night, and she had not been shy. But she had been tipsy. Again she remembered the kiss they shared. Her cheeks colored. That familiar tingling feeling she experienced every time she thought of Harry Bellingham returned. Beneath her lashes she looked his way. She found him studying her.

Harry sensed her uneasiness and endeavored to make her feel more comfortable. “Do you think we’ll find it, Rowena? The sapphire I mean?”

Her face radiated happiness and excitement as she smiled at him. “I do hope so, Harry! Truly I do. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”

Harry studied the picture of beauty riding beside him. Her riding habit of cornflower blue trimmed in royal was exquisitely cut and hugged her lush curves well. A smart dark royal riding hat perched atop her golden curls, a filmy cornflower colored veil trailed behind her as it was caught by the breeze. As they rode in a brisk trot toward Beckery the riot of curls framing her face were tousled about.

“And what will you do with the sapphire if it is found?” Harry propositioned her.

“Me?” Rowena looked surprised.

“This is your quest after all, Lady Rowena.”

“But I brought you in, so therefore this is your quest as much as it is mine. I assumed you might wish to help decide what to do with such a treasure. At the very least we as a group should discuss it together and make our decision.”

“This is your quest, Rowena. I am merely your knight, sworn to protect you and here to do your bidding,” Harry gently teased her.

“William, or William’s ghost rather, did say that you and your fellows know best how to protect such holy secrets. I trust that you will know what is best, Harry. I know, like William, I do not wish anything we find to be used to fill someone’s coffers. These are relics, and should be treated as such. They belonged to the Abbey, and the Abbey is now yours. We can decide together what is to be done if we find our treasure.”

“May I say, Rowena, that you are a remarkable woman. Most women I know would already be planning to cut a large sapphire down and make it into a dazzling necklace and earrings to wear the next Season. But not you. You possess a keen, logical mind. You are a true scholar, Rowena. I so admire that in you.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Rowena did blush then. She truly did not remember receiving such a fine compliment from any other gentleman. And it was genuine, of that she was certain. She saw it in Harry’s eyes. Of course, she never met any other man who accepted or even understood her bookishness. Nor had she ever cared what any other man thought of her. Until Harry.

“I must confess, Rowena, I have not traveled to Beckery in some years.” They passed the Chalice Well and were now on Chilkwell. “Bere Lane is the correct way from here?”

“Yes. Then once on the Roman Road, we turn down the Beckery Road.”

Harry nodded. “’Tis glad I am to be in Glastonbury again, Rowena. Aside from all the obvious reasons I’m attracted to it, the Abbey, the Tor, the ancient myths and legends, I will be so happy to stay, make it my home. To be here longer than a summer, for that is all the length of time I stayed before. As I got older, there was scarcely a week or two of a summer I could spare to be here with my family.”

Rowena looked to him. “I thought you might plan to return to Town for the little season? Surely you shall for the regular Season.”

Harry shook his head. “I doubt I can escape spending a week or two in the company of my mother and sisters in London for the Season, but in truth, I could be happy staying in Glastonbury and never returning to Town. It was my duty all these years to handle my father’s business and be at his side. To act as a proper heir should. My father did not like to leave Town for too long. But now he is gone. I find I prefer the quiet of the country to Town.”

Harry continued, “I hired most excellent and capable men and firms to handle the finances as well as the day to day business in Town. Of course I will do much from the Grange to keep up with the reports and numbers myself. I can handle most anything I need to from Abbey Grange. I shall not be able to avoid the need go to Town at certain times, but I intend to make my visits brief. My father did not like to delegate. He did not trust anyone and literally felt he had to control every aspect of his own empire. He acquired enormous wealth, but in truth Rowena, I do not feel he ever really lived. Quite possibly he never enjoyed the life he made for himself and for us, his family and heirs.”

Harry looked longingly at Rowena then. “Then there is the Avalon Society. I was not able to devote myself to the Society as I wanted to. My father never approved of my affiliation with it. Though I continued, and my father allowed it as long as my dealings with the Society never came before my duties as his heir, I never had the freedom to just pick up and go as some of the other members do when we are on a quest, so to speak.”

Harry smiled, “Now that I am in Glastonbury, I am happy to be acquainting myself with the ancient and sacred local mysteries, such as you brought to my attention. Micah and Lyon, and some of the others spend a great deal of time investigating and researching around the world. I should like to join them on occasion.”

“
So you wish to travel then?” Rowena asked, in truth her hopes sunk at his admission. So he planned to not be in Glastonbury that often. Perhaps a month or two here, and a month or two there. But what did it matter? What was it to her? She already knew Harry Bellingham would take a wife, and sooner than later, as he was now the Earl. It mattered not to her what he was about.

“
Some.” Harry looked to her, studied her face. Rowena seemed deep in thought. “In truth, it depends, Rowena.”

“
Depends on what, Harry?” Rowena looked to him, her curiosity piqued. His eyes were dark and intense again.

“
It depends on how the lady I take to wife feels about travel. If she did not like to transverse the globe, then I would not leave her behind in Glastonbury whilst I did. Of course, not long after I take a wife, there hopefully will be children. I can’t imagine wanting to leave my children for any long length of time.”

Harry very nearly shook himself. Truly, he must be ill. Gone mad. He never talked so openly and frankly to any woman about marriage, aside from his mother and sisters. And when he spoke to his mother and sisters about marriage it was to express how and why he avoided the dreaded union. And children? Really? The very thing he was avoiding for the last eight years at the very least, marriage, children. What was it about Lady Rowena Locke that reduced him to a babbling idiot? In just a matter of days. Hours really. “I am sorry, Rowena. Clearly I must bore you.”

“
No! Harry, I am not bored,” Rowena almost blurted. She blushed, profusely. “It’s just…” Rowena never expected a man to feel as he did. Or that a man would want to please his wife, spend time with her and their children. It so endeared him to her. She felt her eyes mist slightly.