LORDS OF HONOR
by K. R. Richards
Book Two of the
LORDS OF AVALON series
Copyright © 2012 by K. R. Richards
To my dear friend, Kerry
My rock, and my North Star, always constant, never fading!
I could not have made it on this Lords of Avalon journey without you! Thank you for all the HOURS of help, support and laughter you’ve given me. Thank you for my beautiful covers you’ve designed. I OWE YOU BIG TIME!
Thanks to David too! (Kerry’s husband)
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
LORDS OF AVALON SERIES CHARACTER LIST
EXCERPT FROM LORDS OF RETRIBUTION
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
Roseland Abbey, near Hartland, Devon, May 1834
“Lady Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth “Libby” Darrington turned to see her Aunt Priscilla standing below in the entry hall. She cringed. She almost made it up the stairs. “Yes, Aunt Priscilla?” Libby asked sweetly. Dear though she was, her aunt did not approve of Libby’s custom of a long morning ride along Hartland Quay’s cliffs and beaches.
“You must change and have Meggy fix that hair at once! Lord Silverley is here. He’s with your brother.” Priscilla Graham clucked her tongue in disapproval. “I shudder to think what you must do every morning that results in your hair being a tumble every single time you return to the house.”
“Charlie is here?” Libby smiled happily. “Wonderful! I’ll change and be down in a moment. And you know Aunt Priscilla; my hair is heavy and falls from its pins with even just a walk in the garden. It certainly will not stand up to the winds along the coast.”
“Humph. I do not understand why your brother allows you to ride every morning like a wild hoyden, and alone at that!” Priscilla complained.
“I’m not always alone. Sometimes Owen joins me.”
Footsteps could be heard coming down the hall from the direction of the study. Libby heard her brother’s voice as well as Charlie’s. Aunt Priscilla would be in a fine snit if Charlie saw her with her hair down. She turned and rushed up the stairs.
“Charlie! What brings you to Roseland today?” Libby asked cheerfully as she spotted her brother’s friend, Charlie, seated across from Owen in the library. With her hair properly coiffed and wearing a simple, light blue gown, Libby happily greeted her brother’s guest.
“Miss Libby!” Charlie stood. “I came to tend to business affairs in Hartland, and of course to visit you and Owen. What are you about this fine morning? Let me guess, you were riding along the Quay.” Charlie Inwood, Lord Silverley, smiled, winked and accepted her hand. He gave her fingers a quick squeeze and released them.
“Yes, I just returned from my ride. How are Tuesday, Wednesday and Sunday?” Charlie’s mother and father obviously had a preference for days of the week when it came to naming their daughters.
“My sisters are in fine health, Miss Libby. I daresay Tuesday and Wednesday keep my mother on her toes as you do your poor Aunt Priscilla! And dear Sunday is kept busy with her growing brood. If little Marcus and Leo weren’t enough at ages two and four, she’s another babe due in the fall. I daresay she’ll have her hands full by Michaelmas.”
“Are they in Dorset for the summer?”
“Oh, yes. I heard directly from Marcus that it will be some time before they return to London with the little ones.”
Charlie was the only one of their acquaintance who called her Miss Libby. He and Owen were childhood friends, and Charlie started calling her Miss Libby early on. He continued to call her that to this day. Charlie lived not more than ten miles away. He visited often. Libby’s age was close to his younger sisters’, Tuesday and Wednesday. She enjoyed the Inwoods’ company tremendously. Their families spent much time together. Both Owen and Charlie were members of the Avalon Society. The two men spent hours cloistered in Owen’s study or the library talking of the Society’s current finds, acquisitions and business. As Libby was also interested in such historical matters, they often included her in their conversations and research.
“I see Aunt Priscilla caught you and sent you to change and have your hair fixed before Charlie could see you.” Owen grinned at her.
“Yes,” Libby sighed. She smiled as she sat in a chair situated between Owen and Charlie.
Charlie and Owen both gave her amused grins. Aunt Priscilla was forever trying to mold Libby into a proper young lady and marry her off.
Owen Darrington, the Earl of Fitzlewis, kept an informal house, much to the chagrin of his Aunt.
In all truth, Priscilla loved her nephew and niece dearly, and they her. But she was a stickler for decorum and always tried to bend them to her views on things. She constantly told Owen that Libby, or rather Elizabeth, as she insisted on calling her, was a wild hoyden, and there would be disaster come to the family because of it.
Their father spoiled Libby much the same as Owen, especially after their mother, Alice’s, death some ten years before. Aunt Priscilla insisted Elizabeth have a come out and be presented to society, yet her father and brother never saw the need for such. Three years ago, their father died suddenly. Reginald Darrington’s death was hard on both Libby and Owen. To this day, Libby insisted she did not desire the society of London, and Owen refused to force it upon her. She preferred to ride, walk, and read. She loved Roseland Abbey and staying with her brother.
Owen preferred Libby to be happy and smiling. He refused to force her to London so Aunt Priscilla could introduce her to Society and make a good match for her, even though she was five and twenty.
He no longer allowed their Aunt to take Libby to London or to house parties without his presence after an incident several years ago where a young fortune hunter tried to jeopardize Libby’s reputation to force her into marriage. Owen decided to join them at the house party. Owen had a feeling his presence might be needed. His feelings were always to be taken seriously. He stepped in and took the situation in hand and scared the bounder off before any damage could be done to Libby’s reputation. As Libby did not desire to marry, Owen assured her he would never force her to.
Occasionally Owen traveled on estate or Avalon Society business. Sometimes she and Aunt Priscilla accompanied him. Other times they stayed behind at Roseland. They did go to London on occasion, but Owen made certain Aunt Priscilla did not have enough time to launch his dear sister into the whirl of London society. Libby knew Owen hadn’t the heart to force an unwanted marriage upon her. She was thankful to have such an accommodating and understanding brother. As Aunt Priscilla often bemoaned, Owen and Libby were as thick as thieves.
Libby loved helping Owen with his research. She enjoyed helping him and Charlie when they worked on projects together. She researched many things on her own just because she loved the subjects. She loved to read about the Arthurian, Egypt, the Cathars, the Templars, and Roman Britain. She was tutored in French. Owen taught her Latin and Greek.
She knew most of the Avalon Society members, having met them at one time or another, either here at Roseland o
r while accompanying her brother to visit his fellows. Charlie Inwood, Lord Silverley and Matthias Halfknight, Lord Sinclair were Owen’s closest friends and neighbors. Several times a year, Micah Wychcombe, Lord Wincanton and Harry Bellingham, the Earl of Glaston, and Lucian Saintmaur, Lord Wyldhurst did visit for they were not so far away from Devon in Somerset. Jack Drayton, the Earl of Elveston also visited frequently for he lived close to Lord Wincanton in nearby Dorset.
Libby never met a member of the Avalon Society she did not like. Charlie and Matthias were like brothers to her. As was Trevan Chynoweth, the Duke of Penrose. Owen and Libby visited Cornwall often. The Duke and his brothers were so lively to be around. Of course, Libby and the Chynoweth sisters, Tressa and Tamsin were very close. She loved going to Cornwall for visits. The Ducal seat, Menadue, was loud and busy, always full of laughter and fun.
Libby found Micah Wychcombe to be the most intriguing of her brother’s acquaintances. She thought him quite handsome. Though quiet, he was genuinely kind to her. He always seemed very interested in their conversations and her ideas. He was polite, and though Owen and Charlie said he was eccentric and reserved, Libby found Micah to be quite friendly and interesting to converse with. She guessed she might have taken an interest in him, but Owen and the others always said Micah, a widower, loved his first wife so much that he would never marry again. His beloved wife died long ago giving birth to their stillborn son.
Libby ran Roseland Abbey. Aunt Priscilla taught her to manage the household at age fifteen. Her aunt made certain she started early in hopes she would be married by age seventeen or eighteen. Libby was now five and twenty. Aunt Priscilla still held hope that Owen would realize the error of his ways and marry Libby off.
In fact Priscilla Graham thought Owen might marry her niece off some four years before when she believed Owen would marry Squire Brackenridge’s daughter, Grace. Priscilla told Libby at the time that a new Countess would not want an unmarried sister-in-law in the house. But Grace, to everyone’s surprise, married Lord Marston while Owen was in Italy for five months on Avalon Society business. Owen hadn’t spoken of marriage in the four years since Grace married Lord Marston.
Libby helped with the orphanage in Bideford and made certain St. Nectan’s Church near Roseland Abbey was decorated with flowers twice a week. She moved in society with their neighbors both in Hartland and Bideford. Libby knew she was very well accepted and looked up to within their local society. She behaved politely and in a perfectly upstanding manner, as a genteel young lady should. She was a lady, born and bred. With the exception that she loved her freedom. She loved exercise, especially to ride. She preferred to be active rather than embroidering, playing music, or painting.
The only thing untoward anyone could say about her was that she did ride about Hartland Quay with her hair wild and free. But truly, was it her fault her thick and heavy hair would not stay in its pins? Did that make her a hoyden? She thought not.
Satisfied with her life at Roseland Abbey just the way it was, Libby had no complaints. She liked being free. Her freedom was something she would not give up.
Though lately, she did think about love. What would it be like? What kind of man could she fall in love with? He would have to be as intelligent as her brother and his society fellows, and as pleasant in looks as the lot of them were.
She smiled to herself when she remembered the nickname she heard them called when last in London with Owen. The Lusty Lords of Avalon!
Oddly, when she thought about marrying someone, the conjured up image of a husband in her mind greatly resembled Micah Wychcombe, Lord Wincanton. Knowing she was attracted to Micah, Libby told herself that her ideas were foolish. She could not deny that she found Micah terribly handsome, even with his spectacles. He was tall and lean, but very muscular. He loved to walk and ride; they did so together many times upon his visits to Roseland Abbey. Always polite and kind, she also knew him to be sincere. Libby enjoyed talking with him because he was always interested in what her opinions and feelings were on many subjects. In fact, he encouraged her to speak her mind about anything. He often asked her how she felt about many of the current topics of the day.
She would remember that Micah Wychcombe did not desire to marry again, and since no other man ever interested her, she was left without a dream.
Libby thought of her home, Roseland Abbey, and Owen being left alone. She knew she could not leave her home or her brother. Besides, Aunt Priscilla would surely become excessively bored without her to chase after and scold.
“Owen told me much went on in Glastonbury recently. He said you were there!” Libby mentioned enthusiastically as she returned her attention back to Owen and Charlie’s conversation. She wanted to hear a first-hand account of the Avalon Society’s recent business in Glastonbury from Charlie.
“Yes. A lot did go on. Unfortunately, I cannot tell much of it until after we meet in Cornwall in September. We shall meet at Menadue and be there a full two weeks,” Charlie offered. “The Glastonbury find is highly important.
“May I go with you when you go to Cornwall, Owen?” She asked, actually, she pleaded. “I so love Menadue and the Chynoweths. I have not seen Tamsin and Tressa in eight months at least!”
“Of course, pet, if you can talk Aunt Priscilla into joining us.” Owen raised his brow at her.
“She will accompany us, and only because I will remind her there will be so many titled, eligible gentlemen in one place. She could never say no to that.”
Charlie and Owen laughed.
“Pet! Surely Aunt Priscilla knows by now the Avalon Society fellows see you as a little sister, and a bratty one at that,” Owen teased her. He knew for a fact his colleagues would never trifle with his sister unless they were serious about courting her. So, he trusted them when his sister was in their company.
“I do not think she is completely resigned to the idea that your fellows regard me as a sister. This bodes well for me to accompany you to Cornwall in September.” Libby smiled knowingly.
“Ah, and Micah is planning to come for a long visit in the next few weeks, Libby. That will give you something to look forward to. He mentioned it in a letter to Charlie, and asked that he pass along the news to us.”
Libby smiled. “Wonderful! Micah hasn’t been to Roseland for six months or more. I will be happy to see him.” She realized the thought of Micah coming to visit Roseland gave her a warm feeling inside. The fluttery excitement she felt surprised her somewhat. She wondered if her secret crush on Micah Wychcombe would ever leave her.
“I will tell him you and Owen look forward to his visit!” Charlie smiled at Libby.
They talked for awhile and no more mention was made of what transpired in Glastonbury. Libby sensed Charlie wished to speak privately with her brother about the happenings there.
She excused herself, “I must cut some flowers to take to the Church tomorrow morning. I’ll be in the garden. You will be staying for luncheon, won’t you, Charlie?”
“Of course, Miss Libby!”
“I will see you in the dining room shortly.”
She picked up her basket she left behind on a table in the long, narrow entry hall and walked toward the back of the house. She went outside and began filling her basket with some of her favorite May blooms.
She had just cut some pale pink lilacs from a bush near the large herb garden when she heard someone walk up behind her. She turned to see a rather unkempt man in a worn out brown coat and hat standing there.
“Excuse me, Miss. Would you be the Lady of the house? Lady Elizabeth Darrington?”
“Why do you want to know?” Libby asked cautiously. She did not recognize this man. He could not be local.
“I was supposed to give her a message.” The man nodded his head in a short bow.
“You may give it to me.” She said in a superior tone she rarely used with anyone in Hartland. She removed her gloves and placed them in her basket along with the shears.
“I can only give it to Lady Eliz
abeth Darrington.”
Libby rolled her eyes impatiently. “I am Lady Elizabeth. What is the message?”
She heard someone approach her from behind. A cloth was held over her mouth by a strong hand. She inhaled a sickly sweet smell. She choked as she tried to get a breath. Libby tried to break free. She kicked and struggled. She felt the basket handle slip through her fingers. She heard the shears fall to the ground with a thud. Darkness came over her.
When she woke, she felt groggy. Libby tried to remember where she was but her mind seemed fuzzy. She felt movement. She heard the squeak of wheels and a steady clop of horses’ hooves. She must be in a carriage. She tried to lift her arm but could not. Why? She didn’t know. She heard male voices. They were unfamiliar to her. As her eyelids began to flutter open, the blinding light hurt her eyes. She closed them quickly.
“She’s awake. Get that laudanum down her again, Cobley.”
Libby remembered. She’d been through this before. Twice, maybe three times. She would open her eyes; try to sit up only to have laudanum forced down her throat. One man held her down while the other forced her mouth open and poured the vile liquid in. Once she tried to spit it out, and they forced even more down her. The larger of the two men held her nose and clamped her jaw closed with a beefy, smelly hand until she swallowed.
“It’ll be the last time. Mr. Crow said he didn’t want this one unable to walk. He said it was too hard to get them to their destination in London if they’re unconscious. She needs to be alert when we hand her over at the White Hart in Andover. We want every bit of our payment. That’s tonight, Rawson.”
“We’ll see, Cobley. If she gets saucy or causes trouble, we’ll drug her again. No matter what that Mr. Crow wants. We could hang for taking a Lady from her home, the sister to an Earl, no less. It’s not like the job we did for him a couple of weeks ago. That chit wasn’t so high born. No one would miss that one much. This one, she’s a different story.”
Lords of Honor Page 1
