Lord of the Abbey (42 page)

Rowena felt his full, hard erection standing at attention just behind her buttocks.

“
You like riding, don’t you, love?” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“
Yes…oh?” The Angel seductress smiled down at him. “It works that way too?”

“
Indeed. I think you might like it, for once again, you will have complete control over me.” The corners of his mouth turned up as he placed his hands about her hips and lifted her up and over his shaft.

Rowena reached down, took his shaft in her hand and guided him to her opening. She sunk fully onto him, took him so deep she gasped and trembled.

Harry was in awe as he watched her expressions of pleasure, saw her lips part, watched her eyes turn stormy blue and gray, as she began to undulate atop him. He reached up, filled his hands with her breasts as she rode him. Slowly at first she moved her bottom up and down, then she placed her hands firmly on his chest came up on her knees and began to move faster, her hot, wet sheath gliding up and down his cock.

Something about being inside Rowena took every ounce of control he possessed. He was half mad with lust already, and again, his control faltered when inside his Venus. It was too soon. He would come in two minutes if he didn’t stop her sweet assault on his cock.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her down to lie atop him. His hands wound in her hair at her nape. He claimed her lips. He kissed her deeply as her legs stretched out behind her, entwining with his. He rolled her over onto her back, his cock sliding out of her as he did. He gently moved her legs up so her knees were bent and came between them to hover over her. His mouth dipped to tease her breasts, while his hand moved to work the nub hidden in her silken and now wet folds to bring her to ecstasy beneath him.

He was relentless. Rowena writhed and moaned beneath him. He quickened his movements. Her body tightened. Harry gave her no mercy, teasing her, sweetly torturing her until she thought she’d burst from the wondrous pleasure she felt building, escalating inside her. She held his dark, fathomless gaze as he took her over the edge, into a blinding white light. When she shattered, Rowena swore it was the most powerful climax she had thus far experienced. She writhed, she moaned, she shuddered and groaned. She cried out as she drowned in the wondrous sea of ecstasy.

Her sheath still throbbing, she begged, “Please Harry. I want to ride you again.” She pushed at his chest hovering above her. Pointed to the pillows.

He lay back against the pillows, helping her mount him.

She was so wet. She slid effortlessly up and down. On her knees, she sat fully upright, taking him deeply into her each time she came down.

She was so beautiful, her pale, creamy body riding him, her golden curls wildly tangled, hanging about her shoulders, partially concealing one of her breasts, save the rock hard nipple that poked through. Her full, ripe breasts bounced, her face was flushed, her eyes were closed, her dark golden lashes rested on her cheeks. Her lips were swollen and rosy from his kisses. Harry watched her every move, took in every single expression of ecstasy that crossed her beautiful face. He knew from the look on her face and the short panting sounds she made she was going to come again.

Harry began to thrust more powerfully upward, to fill her more deeply each time she came down on him. Finally he slid his fingers beneath her buttocks and lifted her, sliding her up and down on his cock.

“
Oh my God, Harry!” She sucked in her breath. Her eyes were wide.

Together, dark brown eyes locked with stormy blue, they rode wave after wave of pleasure, shattered together, came apart, floated back down.

They were reduced to a gasping heap of limbs tangled beneath strands of golden hair.

“
Oh, love.” Harry breathed raggedly. His arms were tightly hugging the woman he loved, who now lay boneless atop him. He smiled when he felt her lips graze his neck.

“
I fear I shant be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow or today rather, for my legs shall never work correctly again,” Rowena whispered.

“
I’ll carry you,” Harry offered as he playfully patted her bottom. “But you shall marry me, Rowena.”

“
Yes, Harry. I will. And happily so.”

“
Once we are married, I can make love to you wherever and whenever we choose. We can shut ourselves in a room and turn the key in the lock. We won’t have our reputations to be concerned with. There is a lot more about love making for you to learn.” He placed a loud kiss on her cheek. “And I look forward to teaching you everything.”

“
More?” She turned her head so she was facing him. “Like what sorts of things?”

“
It will be a surprise for you, my love. Many surprises, and you’ll enjoy every one. I promise you.” Harry gently pushed her off him, spooned against her, tucked her head under his chin and hugged her tightly. “We’ve our wedding tomorrow. And two hours left before dawn. We need our sleep.”

Rowena felt his lips graze her ear. Heard him whisper, “I love you, Rowena.”

“
I love you too, Harry.”

is hand moved back over her hip and found the nub resting

They woke after Trevan’s knock on the door. They left the bed some ten minutes later after a very quick and fevered bout of love making which began when Rowena bent over the bed to reach for her robe tangled in the bedcovers, while Harry happened to be standing behind her.

Now dressed, Harry walked toward the door, burnishing a wide grin. He stopped, turned to her as he remembered something. “Oh, Rowena love, what was the name of the man who was meeting with Percy Davitt that day we were at the George and Pilgrim?”

“
Oh, George Whitely.”

“
Then Davitt and Whitely are two of our men. For the man who shot Lyon mentioned a few names.” He would not mention Dalworth’s name to his wife on her wedding day. “He said it was definitely a George with the last name of White-something or another.”

“
Oh?” Rowena frowned. “George Whitely is our nearest neighbor. How frightening.” Her bright smile faded.

Harry returned to his Angel. Gently caressed her face. “Do not worry about
any
of this today, love. I’ll see you at the altar soon.” He smiled, placed a quick, noisy kiss to her lips.

“
Yes. You will.” Rowena smiled after him. It was her wedding day. She and Harry were getting married!

It was fortunate that Trevan Chynoweth’s third cousin on his mother’s side, Reverend Jonas Lanfear, was a registered clergyman of the Anglican Church. For the aging Reverend Nicholas Thomas of St. Benedict’s fell and broke his arm that very morning. The Reverend Lanfear helped himself to Reverend Thomas’s registry, vestments and everything else he needed to perform the ceremony at the Stonedown Manor Chapel.

Being small, the Norman chapel was nearly filled from the few family members and the larger number of Harry’s friends in attendance. Those relatives of Trevan’s who did not know Harry before arriving at Stonedown remained at the Manor on guard duty. All others were seated or standing in the chapel awaiting the arrival of the bride.

Micah stood with Harry near the altar.

Trevan and his brothers and cousins, along with Wyldhurst, escorted the carriage which contained Rowena, Sir John and Harry’s sister, Caroline, who was to stand up with her.

Rowena wore a gown she had never before worn, a pale silvery-blue satin trimmed with airy silver gauze and lace. She wore long white gloves. The gown was purchased in Paris, and she saved it for a special occasion. Her wedding day was definitely that. Her hair was arranged in a top knot, with her natural curls framing her face and a few wispy curls trailing at her nape. Small bunches of tiny white narcissus, tied with sparkling silver ribbon laced with tiny pearls were tucked into the thick strands around the top knot. The sapphire and diamond sword of St. Michael glittered on its fine chain at her neck. Her bouquet consisted of white narcissus from Stonedown’s garden, and white gardenias along with white lilies of the valley from the hothouse and garden at the Grange.

“
There now, my dear.” Sir John turned after he descended the carriage and helped her to step down.

Trevan and the rest of the men who escorted them, dressed in their handsome finery, stood on either side of the chapel entrance, as they waited for Sir John to help twenty year old Caroline from the carriage. Caroline was dressed in a demure white satin gown, trimmed with white lace and tied with a blue ribbon matching the color of Rowena’s gown. Her dark brown hair, the same shade as her brother Harry’s was arranged similar to Rowena’s without the flowers.

Rowena slid her hand onto Sir John’s arm and took a deep breath. “We’re ready, Caroline.”

Caroline paused to kiss Rowena’s cheek then entered the chapel.

Sir John led Rowena toward the door, held open by Trevan Chynoweth.

Rowena smiled as Trevan gave her a broad grin and a wink as she passed him.

She looked lovingly at Sir John, could not imagine any other escorting her to Harry on her wedding day. Sir John was more of a father to her than her own had ever been.

Rowena’s heart jumped in her chest when she saw Harry, so handsome, waiting for her at the altar. He looked dashing in a fine blue coat, pristine white waistcoat and cravat and buff trousers. In his lapel was a white narcissus with a small white feather tucked behind it. Harry smiled happily at her. He watched every step she made toward him.

Micah having traded his traditional black coat for a blue one, was dressed similarly to Harry and also wore a white narcissus and a white feather. Rowena realized then the white feathers were from the day she called the Archangel at the tower of St. Michael. She was so pleased. Felt her eyes mist slightly. Feathers from Archangel Michael on her wedding day! How wonderful. She was so happy. The church was decorated with festoons of white and yellow daffodils, ivy and fern fronds. She thought the Stonedown chapel had never looked lovelier.

Harry beamed as she reached him. Took her hand as Sir John handed her over.

Reverend Lanfear performed a beautiful ceremony. The ring Harry slipped onto Rowena’s finger was a large dark blue sapphire set in dainty gold filigree. It was lovely.

Not lasting more than a quarter of an hour, the wedding ceremony ended. Harry kissed his lovely bride. Then he, Rowena and their witnesses signed the register. And it was done. Harry Bellingham, Earl of Glaston was married, and his new Countess was Rowena Bellingham nee Locke, Lady Glaston.

Laughing and smiling, they were ushered back into the carriage. Loud cheers greeted them as the carriage rolled off. Still surrounded by their heavily armed escort, they were driven the short distance back to the Manor.

The newlyweds kissed for most of the short drive back to the Manor. Rowena was admiring her wedding ring as the carriage came to a halt.

“
Do you like it, love? It was my grandmother’s. Mother and I wished you to use it as your wedding ring, and I thought you would like it because it is a very fine sapphire.”

“
I love it, Harry. It’s beautiful. And it fits perfectly.” She placed her hand on his cheek, leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you.”

He exited the carriage and handed his wife down, acknowledging the cheers from the gathered staff from both households, and their Cornish watchmen. Grinning broadly, Harry led his new wife up the steps lined with well-wishers and into the entry hall of the Manor where some waited, having already returned from the chapel.

Micah handed Caroline down from their carriage, and was escorting her up the steps toward the main entry door when the boom of a gunshot rang out.

Micah looked down to see Lady Caroline place her hand on her blood-stained white sleeve. Her brown eyes grew wide, her face suddenly paled as she looked to him. “Micah?”

Micah reached out to catch Harry’s sister as she fainted when another shot sounded and he felt pain in his left thigh.

Newt still sat his horse. He turned his chestnut gelding and headed toward the Tudor gate, rifle in hand. He was followed by Charlie, the Trevelyan’s and Tremayne Chynoweth, all still mounted and armed. They raced down the drive and through the Manor Gate onto Stonedown Lane.

Trevan’s brother, Tristan, was closest to Micah and Caroline. He gently eased Lady Caroline from the wounded Micah’s arms and lifting her into his, took the remaining steps two at a time to get her inside the Manor quickly. Trevan and Elveston herded the panicked staff inside, while Wyldhurst threw Micah’s arm about his shoulder giving him enough support to make it up the stone steps.