Page 20 of Pride of Lyons

Honoria gazed at it for a moment, noting the two central figures dressed in nothing but fig leaves, then nodded. “The garden of Eden?”

“Correct.” Smiling, Thomas stepped back to admire the ancient needlework. “This piece was commissioned for my ancestor by his mother as a wedding present. The faces of Adam and Eve are supposed to be likenesses of him and his wife.”

Eyes widening, Honoria rose to look closer. “My goodness.” She glanced from the tapestry to his face. “You bear more than a passing resemblance to your ancestor.”

“My mother used to say that as well.”

“So, this is the woman who managed to carry on your line?” Honoria peered at the serene face that smiled from the hanging. Fortunate woman to have been the savior of her husband’s family.

“Actually, no. This apparently was his first wife, Katherine Rolfe. His second wife, Alyce de Courcey, was the one who bore his son.” An excitement lit his face. “When I was a boy, I pored over the ancient documents in the library, fascinated by the drama of their story. I must tell you the whole of it sometime. It is quite romantic.”

“I’ll look forward to it, my dear.” Honoria’s smile turned into a yawn. “Oh, I beg your pardon. I must be more tired than I thought.”

“Think nothing of it. I’m sure you need your rest.” He touched her shoulder gently. “Would you prefer to have your dinner brought here tonight? I will understand if you’re not up to dressing and coming down after an arduous day of traveling.”

“What a wonderful idea, Thomas.” What a truly kind man he was. “That would be marvelous and…,” Honoria bit her lip, not wishing to spoil any plan he might have had, “would you still dine with me?”

“If you wish, my dear.” The eagerness in his voice pleased her more than she had expected. “I would like nothing better.”

“Then yes, thank you.” She smiled broadly, happier than she had ever expected to be in this situation. “I will rest until it is time to dine if you don’t mind. Then I will be refreshed enough to be a proper dinner partner for you.”

“Very well, my dear.” He raised her hand and brushed his lips against her skin, raising the hairs all over her body. “I shall go inform Cook of the change in plans.” As he gazed at her, his eyes darkened, and she shivered. “Until dinner then.”

After Thomas left, Honoria rose, drawn again to the tapestry of Adam and Eve that looked so much like her husband. The needlework of the piece was masterful, though the colors had somewhat dimmed with age. And with a closer look, Honoria found many places throughout the work where the stitches had broken or unraveled. She must suggest to her husband that they find someone to repair the damage before it became worse and the piece lost to them.

Honoria stared at the tiny holes that peppered the tapestry. It was not unlike some of the altar cloths she had made and maintained in her father’s church. Gingerly, she touched the fabric. For all its age it still had amazing weight and strength. Could she repair this family treasure as her gesture of gratitude to Thomas for his rescue and care of her? If only she had her sewing box with her. Hopefully, that would arrive with her clothes and other things from Lady Danford before the week was out. Meantime, when she went into Chichester for fabric purchases, she could buy some thread and needles and begin her project.

She meant to show her husband just how much she respected and admired him for his kindnesses to her, today with her needlework and in the coming weeks…perhaps with something else entirely.

Sullen and morose, Lord Danford slouched in his seat at dinner, uncaring if he looked like a ruffian or not. In the three days since he’d last seen Honoria, he’d been unable to discover where she currently resided. Spies he’d sent to Lower Clapham had reported she was not at her father’s vicarage and that the knocker wasn’t on Braeton’s door. If they had indeed married, Braeton could have spirited her off to God knew where and out of Danford’s reach.

Not being able to see her, and with no hope therefore of possessing her, he found himself on the brink of madness. He could think of nothing but her beautiful face and luscious body, the latter writhing in frenzy beneath his. Driven to distraction by his craving for Honoria, his desire had led him nightly to his wife’s bed, where he’d found release, but no satisfaction.

“My dears you will never believe what I have to tell you.” Caroline, Lady Danford leaned toward her sister, Emmaline, Lady Lydney, and their mother who had joined them for dinner.

“Do tell, sister.” Emmaline’s eyes grew larger. She laid her knife and fork down and reached for her wine glass. “I’ve heard nothing diverting for an age.”

“Well, it has to do with Honoria Quinn, who was Mama’s companion until three days ago.” Caroline gave her sister a knowing nod.

Bolting upright, Danford dropped his knife and fork onto his plate. The crash of silverware made the three women jump.

“Danford! Really, you must be more careful.” Caroline glared at him. “You will put my nerves over the edge.”

“What did you say, my dear?” Heart racing, he returned her stare. “You’ve had word from Honoria?”

“Is Honoria returning here?” His mother-in-law perked up for the first time since her wretched little companion had disappeared.

“That she will not.” Caroline scowled at her mother. “Even if she were able to return, I’d not have her in the house after she vanished without so much as a by your leave.”

“She’s not ill, is she?” Mrs. Edwards had been genuinely fond of Honoria.

“Oh, no. She’s in fine fettle, Mama. She’s married.”

“Married?” Emmaline and Mrs. Edwards spoke the word together, in the exact same shocked tone.

Danford clenched his jaw. That cur Braeton had made good on his offer, damn him. While he hadn’t known for certain, Danford had been able to hope that Honoria hadn’t quite slipped from his grasp. Not that her new status would necessarily deter him, but it would make his possession of her more difficult. A husband was always a tricky prospect, but usually they could be got around. And as there was no true feeling between Honoria and Braeton, perhaps it would still not be too difficult at all to seduce her for an afternoon. But he must discover where she was hiding. “Did you receive word from her, my dear? You didn’t tell me.”

“I did have a letter, but not from Honoria. From a Lady Rochdale, who is apparently the sister of Lord Braeton, who has married our Honoria.” Triumph at imparting the startling news gave Caroline’s voice a lighthearted lilt. “I nearly swooned when I read about it this morning.”