Lord of the Abbey (27 page)

Rowena observed Harry was more relaxed and seemed relieved now that his comrades had arrived.

Throughout the evening, Harry was at Rowena’s side. He was more than attentive to her. His fingers often brushed her hand or her arm during dinner. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back on their way to the drawing room. Causing her skin to tingle with warmth. His eyes held that dark and intense look that left Rowena in anticipation of another kiss, mayhap more.
More.
Yes, she wanted more. This she now knew. But the action of
more
would have consequences. She had no way of knowing how she or Harry Bellingham would or should handle such consequences. That was the problem. And a very perplexing one.

There was no work that night, no research, just good natured conversation. The conversation was pleasant and entertaining as they relaxed in the drawing room.

Rowena realized she learned more and more about Harry by observing him with his comrades. Listening to the tales they told on one another. They were all intelligent and honorable men. They each regarded one another highly. This was evident by their remarks, even when they teased one another, which seemed to be often. They appeared to look to Harry as their leader, or was she imagining that?

After she and Aunt Frances retired, Rowena knew the men were now gathered in the library to make their plans. Some part of her resented that she had to remain in her chamber, for Rowena guessed her safety and that of her aunt and Sir John along with the protection of the holy treasures were the main topic of their conversation. She continued to remind herself this was her quest, after all. She could not change the situation. Propriety would not allow her to remain in the gentlemen’s company without her aunt’s presence. Rowena comforted herself with the realization she now had six personal knights errant bent on protecting her and her loved ones.

As she donned her nightdress, she reminded herself how fortunate she was to have made the acquaintance of such dutiful and honorable men. Especially Harry Bellingham, who had kissed her three times that day. She fell asleep not long after her head hit the pillow.

Wyldhurst spoke, “Heathcote does not seem to be concerned at all with any business regarding his sister. I heard that he has cut all ties with her, and that as far as he is concerned, Lady Rowena is disgraced and ousted, along with her aunt from Lord Heathcote’s family. Nor could I ascertain that he had any ties remaining with Dalworth. It seems that association ended at the same time he cut ties with his sister.”

“
Then it is purely someone after the treasure, I fear, unless Elveston finds Dalworth or someone else in London to be involved,” Harry sighed heavily.

Wyldhurst grinned, “I was informed, by a little bird named Lyon, that Lady Rowena’s fall from society is to be short-lived, that you shall be welcoming her into your family and back into society, eh Harry?”

“
That is my intention, Luc, but as I already informed you of Rowena’s past, you must realize that I must tread very carefully in pursuit of her. She fears marriage. My hopes are that she can trust me enough to marry me.”

“
We will help,” Newt supplied with a sly grin as he turned the stem of his crystal glass in his fingers.

“
I don’t need help.” Harry raised an eyebrow in warning.

“
You do. We will.” Newt grinned mischievously. “Remember the Avalon Society oath?”

“
Brothers to the end, I know.” Harry thrust his fingers through his hair. That was all he needed, the five of them meddling in his affairs. Very delicate affairs. The thought frightened him to his toes.

“
And your end shall be the altar, my brother. A place you swore you’d not rush to. But here you are. On the precipice. Better you than me, I’d say.” Wyldhurst laughed heartily and was joined by all but Harry and Micah.

Micah spoke in Harry’s defense, “We will give Harry and Lady Rowena a wide berth, gentlemen. Let them make their own way. For in case you gentlemen hadn’t noticed, Lady Rowena, although an unrivaled beauty and a brilliant scholar, definitely is not certain when it comes to the ways of men. She is no longer as shy or nervous in our company as she once was. She does not readily trust men, and you all know why. She does need patience to overcome her fears. We can give them time alone, we can protect her. We will leave Harry to woo her. For marriage cannot be forced on her. She’d likely not take it well.”

“
In case you hadn’t noticed, Lady Rowena has obviously gotten under Wincanton’s skin too!” Lyon declared with a wink and a large grin, to the two newest colleagues joining their party.

“
I admire her intellect is all,” Micah offered in his own defense. He held up his hands.

“
So you keep saying.” Harry raised a brow toward his friend. In truth, Harry knew Micah was no threat. He clearly saw that Micah admired Rowena. Micah and Rowena interacted more as a brother and sister might. Together, the two could unravel any mystery. He noticed the way their intuitive minds melded and saw how well they worked together. And since Micah was still a grieving widower these seven years past, Harry realized that Rowena brought healing to his friend somehow.

Exactly how he couldn’t place, but Micah seemed more like his old self here in Glastonbury. More so than he had since both his Lucy and their first child, a son, died during the birth.

Harry spoke, “Thanks for the help in advance, stolen moments are all I’ve gotten thus far, and I will definitely appreciate more time alone with Rowena, but as Micah said, the wooing is left to me.”

“
When the banns are cried, half the unmarried young ladies in London will be in tears,” Lyon grinned.

“
More like their elder married sisters and mothers.” Newt’s comments drew some snickers. “You must admit, Harry, your reputation with the young and vivacious matrons was legendary. ‘Tis said you were the first name on every guest list during each Season.”

Harry grinned. “The gossips create legends. They definitely inflated my reputation as a rake. Your reputation might even outshine mine, Newt. Not only are you deadly in a fight but I recently heard you’ve left more bleeding hearts strewn in your path than the poetry of Lord Byron or Cowper.”

“
I imagine you shall be busy, Newt, now that Harry’s retiring, with all the lonely jilted matrons he left behind pining for a lover,” Lyon remarked.

“No busier than you, Lyon. If anyone has left a trail of broken-hearted females, it is you! I even hear of your conquests in Bath.
Mon Dieu!
Do you wish to die? The wives and sisters of Dukes, Marquesses, politicians? And multiple women at one time!” Wyldhurst shook his head. “I keep one mistress at a time. On occasion two. I like being cautious. It keeps me from being murdered in a dark alley or in my bed.”

“I like discreetness too, but when a very attractive and sexually overactive matron offers her charms and a night of unbridled lust, I find I am unable to decline the opportunity to oblige myself to the fairer sex. Why should I take a woman for a marriage partner who will open her legs to me on occasion out of wifely duty, when I already have an entire harem of willing, wanton females who are more than eager to sate my desires. Every last one of them. Many times a night if necessary.” Lyon smiled smugly.

“But someday, Lyon, you’ll have to produce an heir. A mistress can’t do that for you!” Micah said pointedly.

“As will you, all of you!” Lyon’s smile widened as his comrades grumbled. All except Harry. He smiled.

“
It’s past midnight.” Harry yawned. “I’m up at dawn to relieve Wyldhurst and Newt. I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“I’ll be up awhile, Harry,” Micah informed. “I intend to sit in the library and really study and compare the two letters of William Dulac, see if we missed something else as obvious as the Esau Davitt connection. If I feel like it, I may search the books original to Dulac manner. Our outing to the George and Pilgrim cancelled our plans of earlier. You should check in on your Lady before you turn in.”

“I’d already thought of that.” Harry left the room and headed upstairs.

“Time for us to relieve Charlie in the gallery.” Wyldhurst stood and stretched his large frame. Newt followed him.

“I suppose I shall go on to my lonely bed, bereft of any willing, wanton female.” Lyon frowned. “I think I will circulate in town tomorrow. See if I can’t find a willing female who wishes for a romp, or worst case scenario visit one of the taverns to see what sport I can find there. I’ve a reputation languishing here!”

“You’ll live through it, Lyon.” Micah chided as he returned to the library table.

Harry wasn’t sure if waking Rowena up was the right thing to do, though he ached to do so. He wanted to refrain from frightening her if at all possible. But he wanted to hold her and touch her, for more than just a few minutes at a time. The stolen moments were precious, but also frustrating for him. He wanted more. More time. He realized then his intentions of not wishing to rush her were good, but his lust encouraged him to hurry and bend her to his wishes. He was eager to reach the point where he did not have to seek out stolen moments. As it was, Rowena’s door opened slightly as he turned the knob and pushed open the door to his own room.

“Harry, is everything all right? I woke up and heard voices and someone on the stairs.” Rowena stifled a yawn. Her golden curls were loose and spilled about her shoulders.

“Everything is fine, my sweet. I’m sorry if we woke you. Things got a bit boisterous downstairs.” He closed his chamber door. Went to her. Stood rigid before her. Wanted to kiss her. Hold her. Wasn’t sure if he trusted himself to do only that much.

“Harry, you promised at the Tor we would finish our, uh, conversation later,” she whispered.

Her eyes were a stormy gray and blue. “I did.” Harry held his breath. He took a step closer to her. Rowena reached up, slid her arms around his neck. Harry remained perfectly still. “We can’t very well converse as we did earlier in the hallway, Rowena.”

“No. I suppose not. Will you come into my room?”

“Only if you promise to tell me to halt if the conversation goes, um, too far for you. I promise you I will leave and return to my room at any time you wish, if necessary.”

“I give you my promise, Harry.” Rowena’s arms left his neck. She opened the door wide behind her, took his hand and tugged him inside.
She had no intentions of sending Harry away
.

Harry allowed her to pull him inside her room. He closed the door, snubbed the lock in place. He looked at the large Jacobite testered bed, then the only comfortable chair in the room. His fingers already entwined in hers, he pulled her toward the chair. Too soon for the bed. Especially such a large and magnificent bed as that.
Slow.
He cautioned himself.
He had to take things slow with her, despite what the flame burgeoning inside demanded.

He sat in the overstuffed chair before the dying fire and eased her onto his lap. He liked the way her silken hair fanned about them both. Ached to wrap his hands in it. He cradled her in his arms. Tangled one hand in the silken curls at her nape. Sought her lips. Kissed her deeply. Reveled of the feel of her in his arms, the soft curves of her derrière against his awakening erection. The thought that her naked body was separated from him by only his clothes and a transparent piece of fine, nearly transparent linen hardened him further.

Harry sighed. He lifted his head. Let his eyes feast on the sight of her in his arms. Seeing a hint of the pinkness of her nipples through her gown, his fingers had to touch. To tease. The pert pink tips hardened beneath his ministrations.

One hand explored her body as he kissed her again. His fingers moved from her breasts to sweep over her shapely legs, the curves of her buttocks, her back, shoulders and arms. More boldly, Harry began to caress, tease, and lingeringly touch. All the while he supped at her mouth. She moaned softly as he explored. Growing impatient with the thin fabric concealing her charms, he pulled her drawstring, lowered the neckline of her nightrail to expose her round, silken breasts to the cool night air. His hands at her ribs, he sat her up momentarily, allowing the fine linen to pool around her hips. He gazed hungrily at the site of her naked upper torso.

“
Beautiful. So beautiful, Rowena.” Harry’s deep whisper was like a caress.

He eased her head back against his shoulder once again. Harry’s mouth left hers, moved from her chin down her neck, he paused to place a lingering kiss to the hollow of her throat. Heard something not unlike a purr as his tongue laved her. His lips and tongue scorched a path downward across her collarbone, then onward, to the mound of one ripe breast, where his tongue laved, teasing the tender skin of the full mound. He lifted his head. Grazed a finger across the pert bud. Watched it pucker and harden. He dipped his head to continue his tender assault. He came nearer to her nipples each time, but never took them, causing Rowena to gasp in frustration.