Lords of Honor

by K. R. Richards

  He felt a little more encouraged when Libby returned his smile with a dazzling one.

  Micah and Libby sat next to one another in the large carriage. Grace sat beside Libby. The two remaining ladies sat across from them with Lyon in the middle.

  The conversation would lull and begin again. Their party had been on the road six hours.

  The ladies were nervous and trying not to show it.

  Lyon and Micah spent a great deal of time surveying the landscape beyond the carriage windows. They searched for any sign of Brown Coats approaching.

  Rowena began fidgeting. She couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

  Micah noticed that she began to pale and look a bit green.

  “Rowena, are you well?”

  “I - I don’t feel so well at the moment, Micah. This morning when I woke my stomach felt rather unsettled. After breakfast I felt much better. Perhaps it’s all this jostling around.”

  Micah opened the window and called out for Harry.

  Harry rode up alongside and peered in.

  “Harry. We need to stop for the ladies. I’m certain they can do with a bit of refreshment and a little rest. Your wife is not feeling well.”

  “Your stomach again, Rowena?” Harry looked to his wife in concern.

  Rowena nodded as one hand clasped her handkerchief tightly and the other rested upon her abdomen.

  “Camberley is just ahead. We’ll stop at the Arms.”

  They took a private parlour for the ladies and their husbands to take their meal. The rest of the gentlemen stayed in the public room to take refreshment and watch for Brown Coats.

  Harry, Lyon and Micah stepped out to give the ladies some privacy before their meal was brought in. They each accepted a pint from their comrades when they joined them in the public room.

  “I hope Rowena isn’t coming down with something. She felt quite ill this morning.” Harry mentioned to Micah.

  “She’ll be fine, Harry. We’ve made good time. And the ride has been bumpy. We’ll be in London tonight. She can rest and will feel much better tomorrow.”

  Harry nodded. “I hope so.”

  “Rowena, you do not have a fever. You say you felt ill this morning upon waking?” Sophia helped Rowena to recline upon the chaise after she emptied the contents of her stomach.

  Rowena nodded weakly. Libby laid a cool cloth across her forehead. “Yes. Yesterday morning I felt nauseated when I woke, but did not get ill. But I felt fine the rest of the day, until I woke this morning.”

  Grace smiled. “Rowena, could you be breeding? When was the last time you had your menses?”

  Rowena thought a moment. Her eyes widened. “Oh, dear! The last time I remember having them was before I met Harry. That would have been the beginning of April. It is now June. I am with child?” She looked to Sophia then Grace.

  “Is there any tenderness in your, um, breasts?” Grace asked.

  “Yes. Just this week I noticed I was very tender. I thought that Harry, er, never mind. Yes, I am tender. And I am quite exhausted by the time evening comes around lately.”

  Sophia smiled smugly. “All telling signs.”

  “Indeed.” Grace offered Rowena a smile. “It sounds very familiar.”

  “I am going to have a baby!” Rowena smiled. “Goodness, I must tell Harry!”

  “He will be thrilled, I am certain.” Sophia took Libby’s arm. “Libby, Grace and I will leave you to a few minutes of peace and quiet until our meal is brought in, Rowena. Close your eyes; rest for a few minutes. We still have a long journey ahead of us.”

  “Is Rowena feeling better, ladies?” Harry rushed toward the trio of smiling ladies.

  “I think she is feeling a little better, Harry. Go see her. I’m certain she will feel more at ease with you there.” Libby urged him with a smile.

  Harry nodded and handed his pint to Micah.

  “What is this, Libby?” Micah whispered to his wife as he watched her smile after Harry.

  “Sophia and Grace think Rowena is breeding. Rowena does now as well, though she hadn’t realized it before.” Libby whispered back to him.

  Micah smiled widely. He nodded as his smile turned to a grin. He noticed Lyon smile as his wife whispered to him. Micah set down the two pints he held in his hands and gave his full attention to his wife. Could she, at this moment, be carrying his child?

  “Rowena?” Harry whispered as he entered the private parlour. He noted how pale his Angel was as she lounged upon the chaise.

  Rowena’s dark golden lashes fluttered open. “Oh, Harry!”

  “What is it, love? Are you not feeling any better?”

  “A little better. Harry, I believe I am with child.”

  “A babe?” Harry asked softly.

  Rowena nodded. “Sophia asked me when my last menses came and it was before I met you. Over eight weeks ago, Harry, the first of April. It is now early June.”

  Harry grinned. He sat on the edge of the chaise. He bent and kissed his wife tenderly. “That is wonderful news, Rowena. A babe!” He smiled down at her. “I am sorry you are feeling so poorly, and while we are making this long journey. Is there anything I can do, my love, to make you feel better?”

  “No, Harry. I just want to get to London and into a bed.”

  “If you can just hold on until tonight, Rowena, my love, you can stay in your bed the whole of tomorrow if you like.”

  “I’ll be fine, Harry! I probably need to try and eat something while we are here. I didn’t eat much breakfast before we left this morning.”

  “What do you feel like eating, love?”

  “Sponge cake.”

  “Hum, I do not know if they will have sponge cake here at the Camberley Arms, Rowena, but I shall certainly ask.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Come in.” Harry called.

  The door opened and three serving girls entered carrying heavy trays laden with their meal.

  “Do you have any sponge cake today?” Harry asked them.

  After her short rest and a meal, Rowena felt better. Harry, Micah and Lyon escorted their wives and Lady Marston back to the carriage, and their party was back on the road to London.

  Rowena never stopped smiling, even when she appeared to be a little green. She fell asleep after about an hour. Sophia and Libby soon followed. Grace sat quietly, gazing out the window.

  Lyon felt the hairs on the back on his neck rise. He felt the familiar warning sign, a crackle of energy spread across his shoulders.

  At the same moment Micah looked out the window. “Something’s not right, Lyon.”

  “I feel it too!” Lyon scanned the countryside beyond the window.

  Harry rode up beside Micah’s window.

  Lyon gave Harry a grim nod. “What is it Harry?”

  Harry looked to his sleeping wife. “Get the ladies on the floor. Newt is riding back toward us fast. I sent him ahead to scout around the bend.”

  Micah gently woke Libby, then Rowena next. Lyon woke Sophia while Grace moved herself to the floor.

  The gentlemen helped the ladies get as comfortable as they possibly could be upon the floor.

  Five long, silent minutes passed. The sound of a single horse’s hooves could be heard. As Newt approached the party, he sounded the alarm. “Brown Coat road block up around the bend!”

  “How many?” Harry called out.

  “Thirty, maybe more.”

  “Bloody Hell!” Harry shook his head. He looked to the ladies on the floor of the carriage. His gaze lingered on one in particular. He spoke to Micah and Lyon. “It’s our call, gentlemen, since we have more at stake here. Keep going, or turn around?”

  “They’ll have someone behind us too. We know there were at least two Brown Coats watching as we left Templecombe. Stop the carriage, Harry.” Micah ordered.

  “Everyone Halt,” Harry’s voice boomed.

  “There’s an old abandoned farm house up on that rise.” Micah pointed to his left. “Elveston and I cut through her
e on our way from London to Andover. If we dig in, and pick them off, we have a better chance. If we ride into them we’re doomed. If we turn around, it will be the same story. They’ll sandwich us. You know they must have some reserves behind us by now. Newt, run up the hill and see if there are Brown Coats inside the farmhouse already.”

  A few minutes later Newt called from top of hill. “It’s all clear. It’s a good place to hold them off. The place is made of stone.”

  “We’ll have to leave the carriages. Walk the horses up and grab as many extra arms and ammunitions as you can carry. Let’s do it this instant. Wyldhurst, grab the chest with our treasure in it.” Harry bellowed to his colleagues. There were baskets of food and jars of lemonade in the first carriage. The ladies carried the food, Lyon and Micah carried the baskets of stone crocks filled with lemonade.

  Once inside the house, the ladies were led into a dark, musty cellar. Micah lit an oil lamp he brought from upstairs. He left four pistols and three knives with them.

  “I’ll be back in a moment, ladies. Stay down here, please.”

  Harry met Micah after he came up the creaky old stairs. “Someone needs to stay with the ladies. We’ve all decided it’s you, Micah. You’ve barely begun to recover. Take some extra arms and ammunitions with you. Lyon you will join him.”

  “Harry, I’m getting around pretty good now. I don’t use the cane much anymore. Let me stay up here awhile. I can go down to the cellar if our situation begins to deteriorate up here. Without me and Micah you are only seventeen. You could use another shooter, and you know my aim is good,” Lyon spoke.

  Harry thought a moment. “Very well, but if I tell you to get down there, you do it, Lyon.”

  Lyon nodded. “I’m going down to kiss Sophia. Are you coming to see your wife, Harry?”

  Harry sighed and nodded somberly. “Get your ammunition and get back down there.” He instructed Micah.

  “Rowena, I brought down a chair for you, my love,” Harry smiled, trying to sound calm. He carried two chairs.

  Lyon carried two also. Micah returned with a basket of food and drink in his hand and two rifles tucked under his arm. Newt followed with a chamber pot and an armful of quilts.

  Newt hurried back upstairs as the first shots were heard from above.

  Rowena cried as she clung to Harry’s neck. Harry rubbed her back soothingly and whispered to her.

  “I have to go, darling. I’ll see you soon.” Lyon dipped his head and properly kissed his wife. He started to turn away from her then stopped. He leaned close to Sophia and whispered against her ear, “I love you, Sophia. Take care of yourself.”

  Tears welled in Sophia’s eyes. It was the first time Lyon said the words to her. “I love you too, Lyon. Please stay safe.”

  Lyon nodded to his wife. He turned from her, held her fingers in his until he was further away. Finally he let go, and gave her one last dazzling smile before he turned completely away from her. He clapped Harry on the shoulder as he passed him. The sound of gunfire from above increased. “Let’s get this over and done, Harry.”

  Harry looked to Micah.

  Micah gave him a nod. “I’ll take good care of the ladies, Harry.”

  Micah was left with four nervous and somewhat teary ladies. They now sat upon their chairs holding one another’s hands. He came up behind them. “Rowena, ladies, let’s call upon our Angel, shall we?”

  “There must be fifty of those brown coated bloody bastards! We’ve taken out some, but we’ve been at this a good thirty minutes, maybe forty.” Lyon growled as he pulled back from the window and re-loaded his rifle and pistol.

  “I’m tempted to see what would happen if we just threw the trunk with the decoy treasure outside to them!” Harry shouted back to him.

  “We can’t, Harry, because of the little girl. They’d kill her. There would be no chance of getting her back.” Lyon pulled back from the window again as the fire from outside increased.

  Harry sighed heavily. “I know. But I can no longer ignore the fact that our wives and my own child are in increasing danger with each passing day. Damn and blast! There’s another twenty coming up the hill. They must have been the ones behind us.” Harry shook his head. He turned to regard Lyon. “Get downstairs, Lyon. If our ladies have any chance at all, there needs to be more than one man down there with them.”

  “Harry, it’s not that bad yet, we don’t have any dead or wounded. These stone walls are holding well.”

  “Oh, Jesu! Look to the west, on the road, in the distance, there.” He pointed. “Here come another forty or more.” Harry shook his head and closed his eyes to help keep the negative thoughts that threatened from creeping in. He wanted Rowena to be safe, to live. He wanted to live. He wanted to see his child! Hold his babe in his arms. He said a quick prayer that his wishes would be granted.

  Lyon whooped loudly and actually grinned at him.

  Harry looked at Lyon questioningly, as if he had suddenly gone insane.

  Trevan Chynoweth held up his hand when he and his men came around the bend. They stopped in Devon after leaving Cornwall to add Harry’s and Lyon’s families, along with his brother, Tristan, and his men who were at Eveleigh Park to their party. They were three hours later than they planned to be. He saw the hill filled with Brown Coats. The sounds of gunfire coming from the rise above the road were almost deafening.

  Trevan noted two carriages with horses still attached sitting unattended further up the road. He immediately recognized the crests upon the conveyances. “Those are Wincanton’s carriages! The hill is crawling with damned Brown Coats, which means Micah, Harry and the others must be at the top of the hill. They must have come at them from both sides. Let’s go! Not one of the Brown Coats have noticed us thus far down here on the road. The element of surprise is in our favor! Tristan! Julyan! Keep five men and stay with the ladies. Pull the carriage off the road and into the trees if you can. The rest of you, come with me. It’s time to hunt Brown Coats!” Trevan led his men up the rise.

  “Thank God for the Cornish! Trevan and his family have arrived!” Lyon grinned and pointed out the window.

  Harry gave a sigh of genuine relief. He grinned back at Lyon as he recognized the new group of approaching riders as allies. “Fire like hell on the Brown Coats men so our Cornish friends can get up the hill!” Harry roared.

  “Perhaps it will be over soon, ladies,” Micah spoke in a calm voice. The gunfire above intensified a quarter of an hour before and hadn’t stopped. He wondered if Harry and the others were winning or losing the battle.

  Rowena, Sophia, Grace and his beautiful Libby sat upon their chairs, still tightly clasping one another’s hands. The ladies had remained silent for a good twenty minutes.

  Micah felt a change in the energy at that moment. It began as something not unlike a breath of fresh air. Energy moved, skittered and crackled across his shoulders. Unlike a warning, this energy was intense but loving. He felt a strong, serene presence behind him. One could not mistake the feel of an angelic being. He smiled. “I believe we must be winning, Ladies. The gunfire is slowing above us. I think I hear cheering from somewhere above us.”

  A few minutes later the door to the cellar opened. Micah jumped to attention and raised his rifle. He aimed toward the stairs.

  “Don’t shoot, Wincanton!” It was Lyon. He held up both hands and grinned as he came quickly down the stairs, despite his pronounced limp. “We are fortunate the Cornish contingent came upon your carriages in the road! They stopped in Devon first to join with Tristan and collect mine and Harry’s families. They arrived just in time and it is over.” Lyon opened his arms as Sophia rushed to him. He hugged her tightly to him, twirled her around and placed a loud kiss to her temple.

  Sophia laughed and beamed as her husband kissed her.

  “The Cornish have perfect timing, as usual.” As do angels! Micah let go a sigh of relief.

  “There are a few things we need to take care of before the ladies come above stairs,” Lyon said poin
tedly.

  Micah nodded his understanding. There must be casualties to remove.

  “Did we lose anyone? Any hurt?” Micah asked.

  “No.” Lyon shook his head. “I don’t think Trevan lost any either. We are very fortunate.”

  “Thank heavens!” Rowena said. She exhaled loudly. She became teary again. “Heavens, I never cry so! What is the matter with me?”

  “It is the babe, Rowena.” Grace assured her with a smile. “We become more emotional when we’re carrying a child.” Grace rubbed her arm. “Don’t worry about it, dear.”

  Micah stood above stairs just on the other side of the cellar door. The ladies were taking care of necessities before coming upstairs. He was to make certain they were not disturbed.

  “George!” Micah extended his hand to Harry’s younger brother as he walked past.

  “Micah! Good to see you.” A younger and lighter-haired version of Harry stopped to shake Micah’s hand.

  “Where is my wife?” Harry asked Micah as he joined them. “She and the other ladies will be up momentarily, Harry.”

  “She is well? She’s not ill again is she?”

  “She’s feeling well, Harry.”

  “George! We just found out this very day, Rowena is expecting our child. You will be an uncle!” Harry beamed. He clapped his brother’s shoulder.

  “That’s wonderful news, Harry! Mother will be beside herself. She’s talked of nothing else but an heir since she arrived at Eveleigh Park.”

  “I suppose mother’s here somewhere?” Harry looked about.

  “Yes, she’s down at the bottom of the hill in the carriage with the other ladies and Viscount Weatherham. A very nice young man he is, Weatherham.”

  Harry groaned inwardly. He scowled. Yet he forgot about Tristan Chynoweth, Viscount Weatherham, entirely when he saw his Angel coming toward him. His angel who now carried his babe inside her!