Lords of Honor (4 page)

The two men stepped outside the room to allow her privacy while she washed her face and took care of the necess
ities
.
Her hair had long
since
fallen from its pins and hung in a
n unkempt
mess down her back
.
There might be one or two pins left in her
tangled
hair, but not enough to put it back up
.
Besides, s
he
currently did not
possess
the str
e
ng
t
h
or the
desire to
try and tidy it
.
She realized she had no balance
.
Libby
clung
to the screen while using the chamber pot
.
The
effort t
o
stand
and adjust her clothing left her light-headed
and
unsteady on her feet
.
S
he
refused to
call out to those horrible men to assist her
.

She could find nothing
in the room
to use as a
wea
pon
.
The maid cleared the dishes and utensils from the room
earlier
.
She must
escape
!
How
?
How
?
She prayed that
she would find help and soon
.
She remembered Archangel Michael was the protector angel
.
She prayed to him to help her escape these men on her own, or for someone to assist her
, t
o h
elp
her
get away
.
That would
actually
be better
, she pointed out to the angel in her prayer
.
At present she found it difficult to
walk on her own
.
Running
away
from anyone
at this point was probably out of the question
.

The
ir
next stop was Andover
, which
was where
she
would
be
turn
ed
over to this
Mr. Crow
.
The one
Cobley and Rawson
said would kill her or sell her into slavery
.
She
must find a way to save herself before being turned over
to that man
!

She wondered if Owen and Charlie
were
try
ing to
find her
.
Could they find her
?
Had these men left a trail
?
She prayed
Owen and Charlie were
indeed
searching
for her
;
that they were
close to finding her
.

A knock sounded on the door
.
“Hurry it up.”

“I’m finished
.”
As an afterthought she added
.
“I am feeling ill, can you help me
?”
It was best for them to think her incapable of escaping
.
She clung to the screen
weakly
until the
one called Cobley
came to get her.

When the carriage reached the White Hart
in Andover
, Libby found it encouraging that
the
inn
was in a fairly busy location.

“Don’t say a word, Missy
.
I’ll cut your throat, and don’t think I won’t
.
You behave real nice
like
and don’t say
one
word
.
It’s straight up the stairs you’re going until your benefactor arrives.”

“Who is my benefactor?” Libby asked.

“
That is n
o
concern
of your
s
.”

Libby tried to catch the eye of the stable lads,
then
the attention of a
gentleman
exiting the White Hart
and was unsuccessful
.
None
paid her any notice
.
No doubt a gentleman would not even concern himself with her,
appearing
as she did
in a
dirty, crumpled gown, hair a tangle down her back,
and in such low company
.
The realization struck her that she might even be thought
to be
a harlot
.
Was she doomed
?
No
!
She could not be
.
Someone would help her
.
She willed it to be so
.
Again she prayed
.
Archangel Michael, please
,
please help me
!
She
tried to think of a solution
.
She must find an opportunity t
o
free herself from these men
.
Libby knew she could
not
walk
up those stairs and be given to that man
,
Mr. Crow
.
Help me, Archangel Michael
!
I need you now!

When they entered
the main room
, the man beside her roughly took her arm and pulled her along
.
Libby tried to break
his grasp
.
She noted immediately t
here were a few patrons in the public room
.
She must try to get someone’s attention
.

It was to her advantage there were
so
few in the room
for it
was quiet enough it
seemed the
ir entrance
did
indeed attract
several curious stares
.

“I told you to get her up the
stairs quickly, Cobley
!
She’s
causing a scene
.
If you can’t control her, I’ll get her up there myself.”

The man called Rawson
reached out to grab her upper arm
.

“Get your hand off me!” Libby spat
loudly
.
She realized then a man
was
gazing
directly at her
.
A gentleman
!
He
seemed
familiar
to her
.
He noticed her
.
Oh my God
!
She knew him
.
It was one of Owen’s friends
.
And he recognized her
!
She was saved!

White Hart Inn, Andover, Hampshire   May, 1834

Micah Wychcombe, Viscount Wincanton
,
left his room to go down
stairs
to the public room where he would meet his traveling companion, Jonathan “Jack” Drayton, the Earl of Elveston
.
They would eat dinner and discuss their plans for the next day’s journey
.
They talked about going to Glastonbury for a day before returning to Templecombe to let Harry Bellingham, Lord Glaston, know what they found out on their three week journey
.
They would discuss it over dinner
.
Both of them were travel weary and wished to get to their homes
.
They could just as easily send Harry a letter
.
Yet, a day
’s visit with Harry and Rowena did
appeal to Micah
.
He hadn’t seen them in five
weeks
since
he left Glastonbury.

Micah and Jack
were returning from a nearly three week long trip north to try and find
the trail of one Percy Davitt
.
Davitt recently caused a lot of trouble for the Avalon Society in Glastonbury
, and he
posed
a
danger
to them remaining
free as he was
.

It was mirac
ulous
the man even lived
after he tried to steal the sacred treasures found in Glastonbury
.
It
remained
a mystery to the entire Avalon Society
how
Percy Davitt
escaped
Stonedown Manor
with the grave injuries he received
.
Even with the help of one Amelia Whitely and her carriage, Davitt still was gravely wounded
.
Micah and Jack
guessed he
and Mrs. Whitley were
now
hiding
somewhere in Scotland
.
His trail
disappeared
completely
at Newcastle
.
They s
pent days there trying to find anyone who might have seen hi
m or the lady he traveled
with
when they left The Grey Swan Inn
.
The two men
scoured a dozen towns nearby and in Scotland without finding anyone who saw
Davitt
or Amelia Whitely
after their departure from Newcastle.

The pair
returned to London
.
They spent
three
nights
there
and now were on their way back to Micah’s home, Horethorne Hall
,
in Templecombe
,
after
possibly spending
tomorrow n
ight in Glastonbury
.
Elveston would then go on to his home in
Dorset
from Horethorne Hall
after a couple days of
much needed
rest.

Micah took a table,
after he
ordered a
pint
of the White Hart’s finest ale
.
He
sat
wait
ing for
Jack
.
There
were
only
two
gentlem
e
n and a couple
of
some
means
in the room
.
It was
mid
afternoon
.
H
e took a
n
other sip of the ale
.
The
brew
was good
.
He was happy
to sit in a chair and not
up
on a horse
.
Yes, the brew was
f
ine enough for a
bone-
weary
traveler
such as
him
.
He rubbed his thigh
.
It ached
.
His wound
,
a
rifle
shot
he received
in Glastonbury
last month,
still pained him
.
No doubt three weeks on the road
on horseback
had
n’
t helped
the healing process
.

He
looked forward to returning to
Horethorne Hall
.
Not that there was much there for him but his
personal research at Cadbury Hill
, and the Greek scrolls found recently in Glastonbury, wai
ting to be interpreted
.
But
it was home and he reasoned
h
is thigh
definitely
needed the rest
.