Gabriel chose to remain with his men and rode alongside the conveyance, leaving the two newlywed couples alone in the carriage.
The four wore happy smiles as they waved their good-byes to Lord Chilcompton as the carriage began to roll along the drive.
“I don’t know about you, Micah, but I’m ready to end this business and get back to normal life. Sophia has never even been to Shevington Chase.” Lyon looked to his beautiful wife and bestowed a dazzling smile upon her.
Sophia squeezed her husband’s hand and smiled happily.
“I am weary of it as well, Lyon. It would be nice for it to just be Libby and me at Horethorne Hall for a time. But alas, the find at Glastonbury is too important to disregard. It is almost as if we were chosen to find and protect it.”
Lyon nodded. “I feel the same, especially now that Charlie was killed. We have to finish it.”
“Indeed. The plan in place for Cornwall seems to be a good one. My hopes are that we are successful and take down the Knights of the Brown Order, all of them,” Micah looked to his wife. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. He knew Libby to be weary of all this as well.
“You forget, gentlemen, there is much magic in Cornwall, and the Chynoweths are the heart of Cornwall. I think the fact we will be in Cornwall bodes well for us. Have you forgotten that Joseph of Arimathea and Jesus are rumored to have been in Cornwall as well? As you feel you were led to find the treasures in Glastonbury in the first place, perhaps there is a reason we are all now to convene at the Chynoweth family seat in Bodmin. No one can deny that Bodmin Moor and Menadue are ancient and sacred places,” Libby offered hopefully.
“That is an encouraging way to look at it, Libby. I’m so happy I married such an intelligent woman!” Micah gave her a wink and grinned at her.
“I think you might be correct, Libby. We were not to go to Cornwall until September, and now we’re on our way there in June. I feel we will find something while in Cornwall that will aid us in discovering what we need to know, whether it be in the scrolls or Secretum Domini or something different entirely. Perhaps just being in Cornwall shall somehow help us get rid of the Knights of the Brown Order once and for all,” Lyon offered.
“It’s strange how everything has worked out, actually,” Sophia began, “I would not be married to Lyon, nor would the two of you now be married if not for this quest. And of course there is Harry and Rowena too. And we are all of us happy!”
“You are not the only one with an intelligent wife, Wincanton,” Lyon brought Sophia’s hand to his lips and kissed it with a loud smack. He grinned devilishly at his wife.
“Owen and Grace found one another again too, and Owen learned he had a daughter. You are right, Sophia. This quest has brought a lot of happiness to some of the Avalon Society members, though it might have appeared differently at first,” Libby added.
“Except for Charlie,” Micah frowned.
“Yes,” Lyon said somberly. “I can’t think of any happiness coming to anyone from us losing Charlie.”
“I can,” Libby said softly. “Micah might be dead if Charlie didn’t shoot Davitt. He threatened to do more harm to me after he killed Micah. Charlie saved my husband’s life and mine. I will be grateful to him for that forever. Something good did come of it.”
“You’re right, Libby.” Lyon nodded and smiled wistfully. “Charlie was already gravely wounded when he shot Davitt. He would not have been in the long gallery if Davitt had not wounded him. He did save you both.”
“He did save us,” Micah agreed with a firm shake of his head. “I’m certain of that,” he smiled lovingly at his wife. He placed a quick kiss to her temple. “You are correct, my lovely, wife. Good did come from Charlie’s passing. And I too will be grateful to Charlie forever. You and I will never forget the gift Charlie gave us both.”
“Well,” Lyon smiled, “let’s just hope there are more fortunate circumstances awaiting us in Cornwall! And we can’t forget - we’ve an Angel on our side!”
“We do indeed.” Micah smiled. He touched his pocket where he still kept his white feather. “And the Light will prevail.”
Lyon gave Micah a nod of agreement. “Indeed, it will.”
In happy, uplifted spirits and all smiling, the four newlyweds settled in for their long journey to Cornwall.
Keep reading to see:
1) Lords of Avalon Character List; 2) Excerpt of Lords of Avalon Series, Book Three, Lords of Retribution; 3) Acknowledgments and 4) About the Author!
LORDS OF AVALON SERIES CHARACTER LIST
MEMBERS OF THE AVALON SOCIETY a.k.a the Lusty Lords of Avalon
The Original Founding Members of the Avalon Society
Harry Bellingham, the Earl of Glaston. Harry is the head of the Avalon Society.
Micah Wychcombe, Viscount Wincanton; Micah is heir to the Earldom of Chilcompton.
Lyon Ravenscroft, the Earl of Amesbury.
Charles “Charlie” Inwood III, Viscount Silverley.
Lucien Saintmaur, Baron Wyldhurst.
Newton “Newt” Lambrick, Baron Alloway.
Jonathan “Jack” Drayton, the Earl of Elveston.
Owen Darrington, the Earl of Fitzlewis.
Trevan Chynoweth, the Duke of Penrose, brother to Tristan and Tremayne Chynoweth.
Gabriel Chynoweth, the Earl of St. Mabyn, cousin to Trevan, Tristan, and Tremayne Chynoweth.
Marrek Penaluna, The Earl of St. Erth, cousin to the Chynoweths.
Other members:
Tremayne Chynoweth, brother to Trevan and Tristan Chynoweth.
Tristan Chynoweth, Viscount Weatherham, brother to Trevan and Tremayne Chynoweth.
August Trevelyan, the Earl of Penkevil, cousin to the Chynoweths.
Arthur Trevelyan, brother to August and Julyan Trevelyan.
Julyan Trevelyan, brother to August and Arthur Trevelyan.
Marcus Trevelyan, cousin to August, Arthur and Julyan Trevelyan.
Deveril Pendarves, second cousin to the Trevelyans.
Rheese Carlyon, distantly related to the Chynoweths.
Matthias Halfknight, Viscount Sinclair.
Lachlan Douglas, the Earl of Gryfe.
Cleveland “Cleve” Griffith, Viscount Templeton.
Montgomery “Monty” Ivey, Baron Finley
Characters in Lords of Honor:
Rowena Bellingham nee Locke, Lady Glaston, Harry Bellingham’s wife.
Lady Elizabeth “Libby” Darrington, Owen Darrington, the Earl of Fitzlewis’ sister.
Miss Sophia Hart, daughter of deceased Avalon Society member, Nathan Hart.
Grace Sterling nee Brackenridge, Lady Marston, one time sweetheart of Owen Darrington, the Earl of Fitzlewis.
Lady Alice Sterling, Grace’s daughter
Frances Phippen, Lady Sperring, Rowena’s aunt.
Sir John Nunn, paramour and companion to Lady Sperring.
Micajah Wychcombe, Lord Chilcompton, Micah Wychcombe’s grandfather.
Jane Bellingham, Lady Glaston, Harry’s mother.
Mary Ravenscroft, Lady Amesbury, Lyon’s mother.
Lady Caroline Bellingham, Harry’s sister.
Lady Sarah Ravenscroft, Lyon’s sister.
Excerpt from Lords of Retribution,
Book three of the Lords of Avalon Series.
Release date late 2012
St. Mabyn, Cornwall, April 1834
Trevan Chynoweth left Fairy Cross Court, home of his cousin, the Earl of St. Mabyn, on one of Gabriel’s large black geldings. Their party, traveling back to Cornwall from Glastonbury, arrived in St. Mabyn after midnight.
Trevan rose early with a purpose. His destination was Callywith Manor, home of one Wenna Penrose, the woman he was supposed to marry. The woman he planned to marry. The woman he always believed he would marry. The woman every person in Cornwall thought he would marry.
Obviously, she had other ideas. For Trevan received a letter from his mother while in Glastonbury informing him that Wenna was courting the new Vicar, John Madding
ly, his cousin recently gave the living to in St. Mabyn.
Damned fool woman! What the devil was she thinking? Trevan loved her, and she him. They pledged the same to one another many times. In fact the last time they were together, she told him she loved him.
Trevan frowned. Of course the last time Trevan saw Wenna was nearly three months ago. Two days later he left Cornwall to return to London and spent almost two months there trying to sort through and tie up all the loose ends pertaining to the ducal estate since his father’s death eighteen months before. He stayed in London longer than he’d planned. No, he didn’t think to write Wenna while in London. He thought she understood that once he finished his business in London, he planned to return to Cornwall so he could finally marry her. Finally make her his Duchess!
Less than a week after he arrived back at Menadue, he received a letter from Harry Bellingham asking for immediate assistance in Glastonbury regarding an urgent Avalon Society matter. After gathering some of his relatives, his party departed for Glastonbury. Trevan made a grave error not going to see Wenna after he returned from London. He knew this now. But there were business affairs that piled up on his desk at Menadue while he was away in London, and they needed to be taken care of before he left for Glastonbury.
Trevan should have taken the time to travel the twelve miles from Menadue to Callywith Manor to see her. And he should have at least sent word to her that an emergency in Glastonbury required he leave Cornwall immediately.
He had not.
And now the only woman he loved, the only one he ever considered marrying, was courting the damn Vicar!
His cousin made Trevan swear an oath before leaving Fairy Cross that he would not harm, frighten or kill the Vicar. Damn and blast Gabriel!
So, he planned to talk to Wenna. Straighten this out once and for all. He would talk some sense into that stubborn, red-headed woman. Wenna Penrose would be marrying him, and not the Vicar. And that was that.
Callywith Manor was just a short distance down the lane from Fairy Cross. It took a matter of minutes for Trevan to reach his destination.
Trevan smiled as Wenna’s youngest sibling, her brother Lanyon, sprinted straight toward him as he turned onto the drive.
“Trevan! You’re back!”
“Aye, I’m back Lanyon. You must be on a holiday from school.”
“Ayce, I’ve got three more weeks before I go to London.”
Wenna Penrose heard her brother shouting Trevan’s name. She knelt on the pathway in her herb garden. She straightened and thrust her shovel into the rich earth. She stood quickly and immediately walked toward the back door of the Manor. She needed to make it up the stairs and to her room before Trevan saw her. She did not want to see him. Not today. She owed him nothing. ‘Twas he who ignored her the last three months. She was damned sick and tired of being cast aside by Trevan Chynoweth, Duke or no. His actions and neglect over the last three years proved to her that he did not love her. Not really. Not enough.
She would not marry a man who could go three months without even giving her a second thought. Even before that, his visits were not often enough to be considered frequent. Yet he would coo and flatter and tell her of his great love for her when he decided to finally show up. Kiss her, and more. They were doing more for two years now. And still she wore no ring on her finger!
Well, Wenna thought to herself, as she wiped her hands on her apron and hurried in through the back door of the cottage, she was finished with his nonsense. For good!
She just put her hand on the banister and took her first step up the flight of stairs when a large, muscled arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against his hard, rigid frame.
“Oh no you don’t, Wenna! You will talk to me this very minute!” Trevan growled against her ear.
Wenna tried to turn around, intending to slap him. But couldn’t for he held her so firmly against him. Her feet no longer touched the floor. He carried her through her home as if he owned it. As if he owned her! Which he most certainly did not! Why the devil was he angry at her? She had every right to be angry with him, not the other way around.
“Put me down, you big lummox!” Wenna demanded as she twisted and fought to free herself.
“No! We will be talking directly, you and me, Wenna Penrose, and we’ll do it at the Summer House where we can have some privacy. May I remind you, dearest Wenna, that every time you twist yourself against me…” he moved one hand to her hip and pressed her against his hardening erection, “of what it does to me.”
Wenna stilled immediately. “I’ve nothing to say to you, Trevan Chynoweth. And you’ve no right to come inside my home and carry me out like I’m some kind of baggage or worse your doxy!” Still being held tightly, Wenna kicked her feet backwards to try and connect with Trevan’s legs.
“I’m the Duke of Penrose and all of this land has been shared by the Chynoweth’s and Penrose’s for over a thousand years. And as the Duke, I am the overlord of Callywith Manor. And might I remind you that you, Miss Penrose, and I have been having sexual relations for the past two years and been betrothed for five. If you count the time I asked you to marry me when I was ten and five and you were eleven, all I’ve just mentioned plus the fact that in the eyes of God we are man and wife because we’ve been having sexual intercourse it gives me the right to ask why in the bloody hell are you courting the new Vicar of St. Mabyn?” Trevan carefully set her down when they reached the summer house and spun her to face him, keeping a tight hold on her shoulders.
Wenna could see he was as angry as a bull, his chest heaved, his bright blue eyes flashed. Well, she was angrier! Wenna sent her palm flying. It connected hard against Trevan’s cheek. “I will not marry a man who treats me with so little disregard. I’ve been waiting to marry you for five long years, Trevan. You always gave me some excuse or another why the time wasn’t right. Why it would be better to wait. For the past two years, I’ve scarcely seen you. I wager I can count on my fingers and toes how many times you’ve visited me in the last year.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “And your reason then was no doubt to slake your lust. I’m twenty and seven, Trevan. According to some of the old wise women hereabouts, I may even be beyond child-bearing years! I’ll not marry a man who will treat me as you have, and I’m tired of waiting. I deserve better. So I’m marrying John. He asked me today, and I’ve already given him my answer. We will be wed in six weeks or thereabouts, he said.”
Trevan blinked. “You are lying to me, Wenna. You’ll not marry anyone but me.” Trevan pulled her roughly against him and covered her mouth with his. He held her tightly in his arms and kissed her demandingly. As she opened her mouth to protest, he gained access, and thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth.
Wenna tried to fight the passion rising inside. She tried not to respond. She found it to be difficult. She dreamt for so many months of Trevan returning to her, of them making love in the Summer House at night. How many hours and days had she spent these past years waiting for Trevan? Dreaming of seeing him. Most often he never materialized. Scarcely ever did he send a message. She became alarmed when she felt herself molding to him, beginning to respond to the movements of his tongue, his kiss. The one thing they did share between them was passion. But it was no longer enough. Wenna took advantage of the moment and tried to pull away. He pulled her closer. Wenna closed her mouth. She opened to him again and sucked his lip into her mouth and bit him. Hard. She tasted his blood.
“Ouch! Damn it to hell, Wen Pen!” Trevan pulled back and spit out a mouthful of blood onto the grass. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
She spoke lowly with a great deal of calm, “We are through, Trevan. Sometime in the next two months I will be Mrs. John Maddingly. It is finished between us, Trevan. You may never kiss me or put your hands on me again. You may come to visit Grandfather and my brother and sister, but you do not have permission to call on me. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
“You love me, Wen Pen,” Trevan said lowly, ag
ain using the nickname he gave her when they were children. He spoke his next words in Cornish, “My a’th kar.”
Wenna closed her eyes. My a’th kar, Cornish for I love you. He couldn’t really love her. A man did not ignore a woman for three months if he loved her! “No, Trevan. I do not love you any longer. I love John. He brings me flowers. He comes to call every single day. He talks to me and is never in a hurry to leave. He makes time for me. In fact, his seeing me is a priority, not an afterthought or out of guilt like when you come to see me because you know it’s been too long.”
“You’re not serious, Wenna? Have you lost your mind? How can you even know this man? Gabriel said he arrived only six weeks ago!” Trevan’s brows drew together.
Wenna thought she saw a fleeting moment of pain and disbelief in his expression. She felt a pang of remorse and guilt at that point. When his anger took hold, and his features darkened, and his arrogance re-surfaced, she dismissed the feelings of remorse.
“Have you given yourself to him, Wenna, as you gave yourself to me?” Trevan’s tone was low, menacing.
His bright blue eyes bored into hers. She felt impaled by the venom she saw there. “I have not.” Wenna crossed her arms and sniffed.
“Does he know you are ruined?” Trevan’s brow rose accusingly.
“I – I, no. He does not. But, he loves me. He knows I’ve been with you for a long time. Surely he has figured it out.”
“I would think a man of the cloth would want a chaste bride. Perhaps you should tell him.”
“It’s none of your business what I do, Trevan. Now go. You have overstayed your welcome.” What if Trevan was correct? That John wanted a chaste bride. She hadn’t considered that. Well, if that were the case, she’d marry neither one of them.
“Wenna, I know I’ve neglected you, but it was not done intentionally. I love you, Wenna. I always have. I always will. I can get a special license and we can be married as soon as the day after tomorrow. I’ll make it up to you, Wenna, I swear it. Let the Vicar go and marry me, Wenna. We belong together.”
Lords of Honor Page 37
