Lords of Honor

by K. R. Richards

  “Thank you, Lyon.”

  “I can escort my wife!” Micah argued.

  “No, you can’t, Wincanton. Your nursemaids have not given you permission to leave your sick bed yet. You only have permission to walk above stairs three times a day. You’re still weak and pale from your blood loss. I heard you tore your stitches more than once and haven’t healed properly.” Lyon sat down in the chair on Micah’s side of the bed. “I am on watch in your room for half the day, I’m told.” He rose when his lovely wife entered the room. She was all smiles. He treasured Sophia’s smile. He noted her blush when she caught the wink he gave her. He grinned wolfishly at his hell-cat. No doubt she was recalling their enthusiastic interlude in the bath before they dressed, just as he was.

  Charlie entered the room brandishing a wide grin. He held up a deck of cards. “Interested in a little game, gentlemen?”

  “Yes.” Lyon and Micah answered simultaneously. They began playing a game of cards after bringing two chairs and a small round table over to Micah’s side of the bed. Micah sat up in his bed. They purposely refrained from talking about their upcoming trip to London or anything that happened the night before in front of the ladies.

  “Libby, your bath is being prepared in Micah’s room. I’ll help you when it’s ready,” Sophia told her.

  Libby smiled brightly. “Heavenly, a bath!”

  “I want a bath,” Micah said. And he wanted to take one with his wife.

  “Sorry, Micah, one of your wounds hasn’t healed completely. No bath until you are better.” Sophia paused to pat her patient’s shoulder on her way back to the dressing room.

  Micah scowled at her back.

  “It was three weeks before I could bathe after Glastonbury; it drove me insane. At least you’ve got your wife who can help wash you. My mother served as my nursemaid!” Lyon grimaced.

  “Until this morning Libby has not been up much. Your wife and Harry’s wife have been my nursemaids. They helped me take care of my personal hygiene before I was able to on my own, save for one area,” Micah said.

  “Yes, and before Micah was able, it was good old Charlie cleaning up his-“ Charlie stopped and chuckled when he remembered ladies were present. The gentlemen joined in his laughter.

  “Thank you, Charlie. Perhaps I’ll have the chance to reciprocate some day.” Micah grinned.

  “Hope not. I never want to be laid up like the two of you have been!”

  “If we don’t rid ourselves of these Brown Coats once and for all there may be more wounded.” Micah stretched. He winced as he brought a hand to his bandaged side. “This makes the third time I’ve been shot by Brown Coats. I’m damn tired of it,” Micah complained.

  “Three? I only remember two.” Lyon raised his brow.

  “My arm was grazed that day at the Abbey, remember? Harry’s wedding day, and now this wound.”

  “I forgot about the scratch you got at the Abbey.”

  “It wasn’t a scratch. It was a graze. Harry said it was more than a scratch,” Micah put a card down.

  “Graze?” Charlie shook his head. “More like a scratch.”

  “I was shot and it bled. Why aren’t you ever shot, Charlie?”

  “Probably because I’m always the one rummaging around for shovels, picks, lanterns, ammunition and the like, Micah! Charlie offered with a wicked laugh. He drew a card.

  “I wonder where the Brown Coats are and what they are doing? Gabriel and August said they’ve pulled out of Cornwall too.” Rowena mused aloud as she sat next to Sophia.

  “I win!” Lyon threw in his cards. He gathered them up after all tossed their cards in and began to shuffle the deck. “I’m certain wherever they are they are up to no good, Rowena.” Of course the men knew they were in London. The ladies did not.

  Libby gasped suddenly as she remembered the yellow-haired man speaking to her in the tent. “I think they’ve gone to London, Micah.”

  “Did you hear them say so, Libby?” Micah asked her.

  “It was the dream, or what I thought to be a dream. When the yellow-haired man was talking to me, when he cut me, I heard your voice, Micah. He told me if I did not tell him where the scrolls were he would cut out my eye. You told me to tell him they were moved to a safe house in London. And he guessed they were at your club.”

  Micah frowned. “I do remember dreaming that, Libby. I do. Is anyone in London still?” Micah asked as he looked to Lyon.

  “Yes, Pendarves and Carlyon; and they moved to the larger of the safe houses yesterday. I’m going downstairs and send a letter right now.” Lyon rose. “Stay here a minute, Charlie?”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh dear, have I put someone in danger, Micah?”

  “Sweetheart, I remember the dream too, and I told you to tell Davitt the treasures were moved to London. There must be a reason for it that we don’t understand. Archangel Michael was there with you, remember? Pendarves and Carlyon will be fine. Lyon will send a message. Everything will work out well.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  “Don’t you worry, Miss Libby. Like Micah said, everything will be fine,” Charlie winked at her.

  Harry returned with Lyon a quarter of an hour later. “Sir John has been busy. He has talked to his contacts near the King. If Crowhurst is the same as our Mr. Crow, he’s already being watched by the King’s Elite Force and some fellows from the new police force at Scotland Yard. Crowhurst was closer to King George. King William, being a military man, has something; what I do not know, against Crowhurst. Sir John gave them the information we have to help them capture him, if he’s the same man. If not the new police force will have an eye on Crow as well.”

  He continued, “Sir John let them know about our troubles here and in Cornwall, without giving them too much information about the treasure and its significance. And he informed them of what happened to Sophia and Libby, so they can hopefully prevent any other women from being taken. He gave them the location of the Madame Rosier’s establishment where Sophia was taken after her kidnapping. Sir John assured me the Madame’s establishment is already being watched. He will keep me updated.” Harry gave a sigh of relief.

  “When did he speak to his contacts, Harry? I can’t help but wonder if there is any correlation between that and the Brown Coats disappearing suddenly?” Micah posed.

  “Good point, Micah, I don’t know the answer to that question. So, we must accept there may be a traitor in one of those places.” Harry frowned deeply.

  “I sent a letter to Dev Pendarves and one to Trevan also, so he is able to get word to Pendarves and Carlyon in the event they’ve left the safe house for some reason.” Lyon returned to his seat.

  Harry gave Lyon a quick nod. “If not tomorrow, then soon, we must concentrate on translating the scrolls found in Glastonbury and the Secretum Domini. We need to know exactly what we have and why these scrolls are wanted so badly by the Brown Knights. The day after tomorrow we’ll be leaving for London; all of us.”

  “London!” Rowena’s head snapped up as she looked at Harry in surprise.

  “Surely Micah and Libby can’t join us, neither one are able to make such a journey yet!” Sophia stated quite matter-of-factly.

  “London, Micah?” Libby turned her questioning gaze to her husband.

  Micah, Lyon and Charlie all directed their attention to Harry.

  Harry cleared his throat. “We believe that one or more of the servants here, at Horethorne Hall, have been giving information to the Brown Coats. We believe that is how they knew how to get in despite our guards and take Libby. The treasure is not safe here. We are no longer safe here. The treasures must be transferred to a safe house. Threats have been made, as recently as last evening, toward the ladies and children of the Avalon Society members. We will be staying with Lord Chilcompton, Micah’s Grandfather, for a week or more. I received a letter from Trevan this morning suggesting we may want to meet in Cornwall much sooner than September, possibly as soon as two weeks time. We need to int
erpret the scrolls and transcribe the Secretum Domini – sooner than later.”

  “In light of the servant situation, no mention must be made where we are truly going in earshot of the staff. The servants shall be told we are moving our party to Shevington Chase in Wiltshire for a time, ladies. And we are taking no servants with us. It is the best way to ensure all of our safety,” Micah stressed.

  The ladies remained eerily quiet. They simply nodded.

  “Very good. Tomorrow we’ll try to get some work done on the scrolls and Secretum Domini if at all possible. Wednesday we leave for London. Today we’re playing cards. You in, Harry?” Micah raised a brow in challenge.

  “Certainly. Be prepared to lose, gentlemen.” Harry rubbed his hands together, flashed them a grin, and pulled up a chair.

  “Harry, I already won Abbey Grange, Eveleigh Park, and your London House. You don’t have anything left to wager,” Lyon complained.

  Harry flashed Rowena a devilish grin. He raised a teasing brow at her.

  “Don’t you dare, Harry! It will be the last thing you ever do.” Rowena’s eyes narrowed. She shook a warning finger at him.

  Sophia and Libby giggled.

  Rowena continued to scowl at her husband.

  “I am out of the game, gentlmen.” Harry sighed and threw in his cards. “Micah, you’ll have to move out tomorrow. Lyon owns all my houses, and I now own Horethorne Hall.”

  “Fine. Charlie, hand over the key to Swandown Manor. I need to move in tomorrow. You are taking your sisters, I hope. Where are you going to live?”

  “I won Shevington Chase, remember. And no, I’m not taking my sisters. You’re stuck with the both of them and my mother too. I’ve a roof over my head still, in Wiltshire, and a view of Stonehenge. And no women will be allowed to call. Oh, present company excluded, of course.” Charlie paused to give the ladies a small nod. “But you ladies may only visit for a day or two at most, perhaps one time a year. You may not live there. Ever!” Charlie smiled broadly at them.

  Libby giggled for she was used to Charlie’s humor. Sophia and Rowena eyed him warily.

  “Humph.” Rowena rolled her eyes.

  “Fine.” Harry rose. “None of us are homeless.” He grinned.

  “I think we’ve learned today, ladies, that our husbands should not be allowed into the gaming hells,” Rowena said crisply.

  “Or we’ll be penniless as well as homeless,” Libby offered with a sigh.

  “I don’t know, my husband won three new houses today, I might survive it.” Sophia grinned in amusement.

  “That’s my Lady!” Lyon winked at her.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Libby, are you ready for your walk downstairs?” Lyon rose from his chair.

  “Yes.” She hated to leave Micah. But she felt so much better after bathing. She needed the exercise.

  Everyone rose.

  Micah remained in his bed frowning. “Can’t I come down too?”

  “No, not until you are completely healed, Micah.” Sophia said sternly. “Owen and Gabriel will come up to keep you company.”

  “Owen will be moving into your chamber before tonight since Lyon is back. Lachlan and Cleve will take night watch in the hallway tonight.” Harry continued, “That way you won’t have to have someone sitting in this room at night – as long as you promise not to tear your stitches by, ah, over exerting yourself.”

  Micah grinned. “I have no complaint with that information.”

  Libby bent and kissed Micah before she made her first journey downstairs in almost a week.

  “Hurry back, Libby.” Micah eased himself down on the bed to take a quick nap.

  Owen left the library and headed toward the stairs. He would sit with Micah for an hour or two until Libby went back upstairs.

  His thoughts were still on the letter he posted to Grace Sterling, Lady Marston, that morning. The missive proved difficult to write. In the end he opted for short and to the point.

  Lady Marston,

  I received some alarming news last evening. I do not know if it is true. I must know you if you and your daughter are safe at your home in Devon. Please respond at once. Send for me immediately if you and your daughter are in danger.

  Yours,

  Fitzlewis

  Owen stopped when Harry stepped out of the parlour and motioned for him.

  “Owen. I was just coming to locate you. You’ve a visitor. Lady Marston is here to see you.”

  Owen paused to take a deep breath. She could not have received his letter and traveled to Somerset this quickly. This probably meant her daughter, his daughter, was being held by the Brown Coats. He hadn’t seen Grace in four years. He exhaled more loudly than he intended. He stepped inside the parlour to see Lady Glaston conversing with Lady Marston. “Lady Marston.” His voice sounded much softer than he wished it to.

  Owen noted her widow’s weeds. If memory served, Lord Marston died of an ague some eight months ago. Grace turned to face him. He felt a stab of pain near his heart. She was still beautiful, even more so than he remembered.

  Her golden brown hair gleamed like sunshine. Grace’s classic and delicate facial features and large brown eyes still caused his blood to race in his veins. Owen was not prepared for her beauty. He certainly was not expecting to see dark shadows beneath her eyes, nor a dark purple and green bruise on her cheek. She looked pale, perhaps a little thinner. She was still beautiful despite that.

  “Lord Fitzlewis!” Grace stood immediately.

  Lady Glaston rose and walked past him. “Your tea will be served momentarily, Lord Fitzlewis.”

  Owen nodded to her then returned his attention to Grace.

  “What has happened, Grace?” He did not intend to address her by the familiar. It just happened.

  “Owen! I do not understand what is going on. The day before yesterday six men forced their way into my home and took my baby. My little Alice!” Grace choked back a sob. “They said I should find you and give you this letter. I went to Roseland yesterday and Tompkins told me I could find you here.” She removed a folded piece of foolscap from her reticule. She handed it to him. “What does this mean? What is this about? Will I ever see her again, Owen?”

  Owen broke the blank seal and opened the letter.

  Fitzlewis,

  If you want your daughter back, you must make certain we receive all of the scrolls found in Glastonbury, the Sapphire and the Holy cruets brought to Glastonbury by Joseph of Arimathea. They must be delivered on Tuesday next, by noon to the Jasmine Star in Limehouse. You, Glaston, Amesbury, Wincanton, Wyldhurst and the Duke of Penrose must bring them; the Superior members of the Avalon Society. If you do this, the child will be returned to her mother. If you do not, Lady Alice and ten other women and children dear to Avalon Society members will disappear. Forever.

  The Grand Knights of the Brown Order

  “I’ll get Alice back, Grace. My comrades and I are already working on how. This is the second time since last evening that someone has referred to your daughter, Lady Alice, as being my daughter.” Owen held up the letter. “I want to know the truth. Is Alice mine or Marston’s?”

  Grace faltered. She wanted to lie. She knew Owen still hated her. She could see the coldness in his eyes. But, she owed him the truth, though she tried frantically to tell him all those years ago. If she told him the truth, then she would be free of the guilt and the regret.

  “Grace?” Owen implored.

  “You are Alice’s father, Owen. You were supposed to be back from Italy in three months. I could have hidden the fact I was with child that long. I sent letter after letter, and never received a response from you. I never heard anything, until I received a letter from you saying you would not be home for another two months. I still tried to reach you after that even.”

  Grace faltered then continued, “My maid realized I carried a child. She told father. He believed you received my messages and were ignoring them because you never intended to marry me. A week later I was married to Mar
ston by special license. No choices were left to me. Father arranged everything. Why did you not answer my letters, Owen? Was father correct? Did you not want me after…after you got me with child?” A tear slid down Grace’s cheek.

  Owen shook his head, “Grace, I swear it, I never received a letter from you. Not a one. I sent you several letters. I even sent you some lace from Venice. I thought you might use it for your wedding gown on our wedding day! Did you only receive the one letter?”

  Grace nodded. “Just the one, Owen.”

  “Your father always favored Marston for you over me. I never knew how much until now, at this moment.” Owen’s jaw was rigid. He exhaled loudly.

  “Father?” Grace paled. “Yes, you must be correct, Owen. He always wanted me to marry Marston.” Grace shook her head in disbelief. “I never realized…” she suddenly felt light-headed. She wavered on her feet slightly. “I thought you did not want me. Oh, what you must have thought of me! It was father all along, his doing.” Grace reached out to find something to support her. Her legs suddenly felt like water. “Owen!”

  Owen was beside her, supporting her in an instant. He helped her to sit. He sat beside her on the small settee and took her hand in his.

  “Grace, had I known you carried my child I would have returned immediately. Immediately! I loved you Grace. I wanted to marry you. I planned on it. I would have welcomed our child. You must know that.”

  Loved her. Past tense. The words cut her heart deeply. “I always wanted to believe it, Owen. I could not understand why you never answered my letters. Now it would seem they were never sent. Father stopped them. He no doubt ordered my maid to watch me. He lied to me and forced me into marriage with Marston.”

  “What happened to your cheek, Grace?” Owen lightly traced the ugly bruise with his finger.

  “I took Alice into my arms when I heard the commotion downstairs. I would not let go of her. She was terrified. She screamed as they tried to pry her from my arms. One of them hit me. When I woke up, my little girl was gone. I’m so frightened, Owen.” Grace tried to be strong, yet her tears came anyway. Her shoulders shook as she tried to keep from sobbing.