Lord of the Abbey (53 page)

“He will find his own happiness. Do not concern yourself with his.” Harry nibbled on her ear lobe. “I’m thinking you should currently concern yourself with my happiness, my love.” His voice was thick with huskiness.

“You are not truly angry with him for covering me with his body the night Dalworth came into the parlour are you?” Her eyes narrowed on him.

“No. Should I be?” Harry teased with a grin.

“Absolutely not. Micah and I are just friends. I feel nothing when he touches my arm. It is nothing like when you touch me, Harry.”

His fingers began to trace a pattern on her back. “How does my touch make you feel, love? Do tell,” he whispered against her ear.

“It’s like a jolt of electricity. Then I tremble, and I feel like I’m on fire, everywhere you touch me. It burns. Then it pools, down – well lower. The fire, I mean.”

“Fire? Hmm. Everywhere? And down lower, you say? I’ll keep that in mind, love.”

Harry witnessed Micah retrieving a glass of champagne for his wife earlier. When the dance ended, Harry obtained another for her. He made certain she drank it.

He was about to spirit her away when Trevan joined them. Rowena was off a few feet away talking to some of their guests.

“Harry, may I dance with your wife? She’s one of the few women in the room who does not have designs on marrying herself or someone else off to a Duke.”

“Of course, Trevan. As long as you retrieve a glass of champagne for her when you are finished.” Harry grinned devilishly.

“What are you up to, Harry?” Trevan whispered, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“My Lady is intriguing any time, but I find she is much more uninhibited when under the influence of alcoholic spirits,” Harry confessed with a wide wolfish grin.

“Even married you’re a dog, Harry! Very well. I’ll help you out. This means, of course, there will be a lot of noise from your room tonight, and that Micah and I shall not get much sleep.
Again
.”

“If things go as I’ve planned, that may well be true.”

Trevan managed to obtain a glass of champagne for Rowena. As she danced next with Wyldhurst, then Charlie afterward, and Trevan still talked with Harry, he again made certain she had another champagne.

When Harry finally managed to pull Rowena away they first intended to duck into the study. Upon opening the door, Harry hastily offered an apology and quickly pulled it shut. He hurried Rowena onward.

“Harry, that looked like Sir John and Aunt Frances,” Rowena said, wide-eyed.

Harry nodded. “It was, my love.” It was difficult for him to hide his grin. In the end he failed.

“Her skirt was lifted. He stood behind her, was he…were they?”

“Yes, they were, my love.”

“Oh my.” Rowena blushed scarlet. Then she giggled.

Both still giggling at the realization of what they’d interrupted Harry pulled her into the library. He stopped between some of the taller shelves in the back. “That will be us in thirty years, my love.”

“
I just cannot imagine Sir John and my aunt doing what we do,” Rowena said as she melted into his arms. “He had her skirts lifted, could they not wait until later?”

Harry laughed at her words. “There are those who might say the same to us, love!” He was already unbuttoning his breeches.

Rowena giggled. “You are correct, Harry. I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine…oh, never mind. Where were we?”

Harry placed his hands on her bottom. Pulled her tight against his hard length and his harder cock. They kissed passionately for long moments.

“
We shall be doing this until we are old and gray, my love. I promise you.”

“Will you give me Excalibur again, Harry?”

“Absolutely, my love.” And so he lifted her skirts and did just as his Lady of the Lake bid him to do.

They exited the library ten minutes later, both giggling and flushed. Harry procured yet another glass of champagne for his wife after she collapsed into a fit of giggles upon seeing her aunt and Sir John on the dance floor together.

Trevan and Micah did not get much sleep that night. Or rather it was already morning, when the last of the guests left Stonedown. It proved to be noisy in Harry and Rowena’s room. The bed creaked. Rowena moaned and begged. And Harry groaned rather loudly a few times. There might have even been a roar. It was hard to tell, for the bed was creaking rather loudly at the time.

Rowena would always remember that night, well truly, it was morning, as one of the most romantic she and Harry shared. After telling Harry earlier in the evening how his touch affected her, he spent nearly the entire wee morning hours exploring her body, enflaming her to the heights of passion with his purposeful touches, his tongue, and mouth. Worshipping her. Loving her. And of course, they also enjoyed the large, magnificent, thick posters of the Jacobean bed. Several times.

The bags of bones found in the tunnel near St. Dunstan’s chapel were left in the tunnel chamber until they could be moved to a safer location. Unfortunately, the bones were not marked as to which bones belonged to whom. The relics were brought in their chests to the upstairs parlour at Stonedown to be catalogued. And the small piece of wood stored inside a lead box, at least they assumed, was the original piece of wattle church. The Vetusta Ecclesia. It was a small square of wood. Though it appeared quite weathered and rotted, the energy that emanated from it was incredible.

After breakfast, Harry and his colleagues brought items which were already catalogued down to the library. They were packed into sturdier boxes and chests for transport to various places of safekeeping.

The books and manuscripts brought down first were not unique, meaning if there were other known copies in the world, they were to be housed in the Avalon Society’s private library. Those books and manuscripts which were unique were to be dispersed among the members present in Glastonbury to read, and make notes on. At a later date, it would be decided if they should be donated to a library or kept within the Avalon society’s most guarded and secret library. The relics relating to the church and altars of the Abbey itself would be housed in the Avalon Society’s private museum until they were certain it was safe to donate some of them elsewhere.

In the library, Trevan worked on two scrolls written in ancient Aramaic. Micah worked on three scrolls written in Greek. Rowena was transcribing the
Secretum Domini
written by William Dulac. Wyldhurst and Elveston went through the relics in the upstairs parlour found with the sacks of bones in the tunnel near St. Dunstan’s Chapel. It was unfortunate that most of the relics were also unmarked. The gentlemen tried to match some of them by the descriptions on the Abbot’s list, but there were unfortunately dozens more relics found than mentioned on said list. There were many that it was impossible to tell exactly what the tiny relic was.

St. Bridget’s bell, spindle and pouch were recognizable. Rowena asked that they be kept in Glastonbury, along with the crystal cross, and piece of wattle. And of course the sapphire and cruets, or ampullae. The society fellows unanimously voted to allow her to keep them with her and Harry in Glastonbury, unless they became a source of danger to them in future.

At the end of the day much progress was made. It was decided the Chynoweths and Trevelyans would take some of the larger, bulkier treasure needing research back with them to Cornwall. The other members including Harry and Rowena would keep some to study as well.

At the end of summer, in September, the senior members of the Avalon Society would meet at Menadue, the Ducal Seat in Cornwall, for a two week period. The invitation of the Duke of Penrose extended to members and their families. They would go over their findings when all arrived at Menadue, near St. Cleer, on Bodmin Moor.

Still, Trevan, Micah and Rowena wanted to at least uncover the basics of the scrolls and the
Secretum Domini
. They remained in the library long after the other treasures were divided and loaded up.

“You and Harry will be glad to be rid of us when we all leave tomorrow, I think,” Trevan said.

“I will miss you all terribly, I fear it will be far too quiet,” Rowena said sadly. Then she asked, “What will you do when you return to Cornwall?”

“Oh. I’ll have to make peace with Wen Pen, for she’ll be mighty cross. I did not tell her I was leaving for Glastonbury. And I just returned from London the week before that. She will know by now that I came here to help Harry. But still she’ll be angry with me, there’s no doubt of that.”

“You mean Wen Pen is still waiting for you, Trevan?” Micah asked. “I thought she’d give up on you by now. After twenty, uh, how many years?”

“Wen Pen is six and twenty.”

“Who is Wen Pen?” Rowena inquired.

“She is a red-haired beauty with a hot-temper and a saucy mouth. We’ve known each other since childhood. Morwenna Penrose. Most know her as Wenna. My brothers and I started calling her Wen Pen when she was about three. It stuck. We are to marry.”

“When will you? Marry, I mean.” Rowena was curious.

“Sometime in the very near future,” Trevan informed her.

“He’s been saying that for ten years,” Micah disclosed with a yawn.

“Shush, Micah. I’ve been busy this past year and a half with my father’s death and taking over the reins of the Ducal estate, protecting beautiful blonde women in Glastonbury, chasing after Holy treasures.” Trevan winked at Rowena. “I’ll get around to marrying Wen Pen, don’t you worry about that. I love her. She loves me. That is that.”

“I look forward to meeting her in September.” Rowena smiled at Trevan. She turned to Micah. “What will you do when you get back to Templecombe?”

“Catch up on my personal research at Cadbury. Delve into these scrolls and some of the manuscripts deeper. Work. I enjoy it.” Micah smiled at Rowena, but he didn’t feel the joy he usually did at the prospect of returning to Horethorne Hall. Alone. He had been a recluse since Lucy and his son’s death. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to go back to being alone now. He grew fond of conversation and friends, and the whole group effort they undertook here in Glastonbury. He realized he was reluctant to leave.

“You are close at Templecombe. You may come visit us, Micah, whenever you wish.” Rowena thought she heard a hint of loneliness in his tone.

“You and Harry can come visit me as well, Rowena.”

“I’d like that. I shall speak to Harry first chance I get.”

“Let Micah catch up on his sleep first,” Trevan mumbled.

“What?” Rowena asked curiously, she hadn’t caught what Trevan said.

“Oh, nothing. I was just mumbling to myself,” he winked at Micah. “This damned Aramaic is causing me to go blind. I need to take a break. I must find Tristan and make certain he is not too near Lady Caroline.”

“Why? What if he is near Lady Caroline?” Rowena questioned, forcing a nonchalant tone into her voice.

“My brother has a wandering eye and a short attention span when it comes to the ladies, Rowena. He’s known to keep several at the ready. I don’t want him to hurt Harry’s sister. She’s a sweet thing. And most importantly Harry will kill me and Tristan both if he does.” Trevan rose and left the room.

“Oh. I need a break as well. I should like a walk up the Tor, but I really need to work at William’s book more, I suppose.” Rowena raised her arms and stretched.

“I think I can handle a climb up the Tor today. My leg is feeling much stronger. Let’s check with Harry and see if he will join us,” Micah suggested.

Harry, Micah and Rowena walked up the Tor. Micah went into the tower alone while Rowena and Harry stood on the Tor’s summit and pointed out places of interest to one another.

Micah prayed to Archangel Michael. He felt that Harry and Rowena were just right for one another. They shared similar interests, loved one another deeply and enjoyed one another’s company. He asked for a blessing for his dear friends, but also for help from the Archangel to help him find the woman who was perfect for him, one with similar interests, one whom he was attracted to, and her to him, one who could be his dearest friend and his lover, like Rowena proved to be to Harry. Micah asked for the perfect wife for him. He asked for love.