Page 19 of Pride of Lyons

They continued down the line of servants until they stood directly in front of the wide, oak-planked front doors. Pearce signaled two footmen, who opened them. Seized by a fit of whimsy, Thomas scooped Honoria up into his arms. She shrieked and threw her arms around him, and laughing, he carried her into the Keep.

“Thom—Lord Braeton, what are you doing?” She squealed, clutching his neck.

The sensation of her suspended in his arms—her weight so slight, he continued around in a circle before he could straighten himself out and step over the threshold. “An old custom, my dear.” He came to a stop in the castle entryway under the vaulted arches. “Surely you’ve heard of carrying the bride over the threshold?”

“I have, of course.” She gave him a sideways glance. “It’s a pagan tradition, isn’t it?”

Thomas chuckled and nodded. “Trust a vicar’s daughter to know that bit. But, yes, it comes from the Roman marriage customs. And so is hundreds of years old.” He lowered his voice. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all,” she whispered back and very slightly snuggled into his arms.

Was his wife warming up to him already? Hope and other things surged through him, and he reluctantly let Honoria slide down to the stone pavement that made up the floor of much of the castle. “There you go, my dear. Our marriage is now official.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Pearce hurried forward and helped them off with their things, and Thomas relaxed again. Once Honoria was settled, he offered his arm. “Would you prefer to see your rooms first and perhaps lie down before dinner, or would you like tea?”

“Can I have both, please?” The plaintive voice as she looped her arm through his went straight to his heart. “I would love tea as much as I wish to see my chamber.”

“I believe that can be easily arranged, my dear. Pearce?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Have tea sent to the solar, please. Lady Braeton and I will take it there.”

“Very good, my lord.”

The butler hurried off, and Thomas led Honoria to the main staircase. “We will tour the entire Keep tomorrow, perhaps, when you are well-rested. It’s quite a lot to take in, even if you are fresh.”

“Thank you, Thomas.” She sighed. “Even though we have only been riding in the carriage, it’s still tiring.” As if to emphasize her words, she leaned more heavily on him. “I will be more than ready to see my new home tomorrow.”

Strangely, that increased pressure on his arm did not incite his baser desires, as he might have expected, but instead fired Thomas’s protective instincts. Of course, Honoria must be tired. Being jostled for hours on end, even in a comfortable carriage, was exhausting. Perhaps she would enjoy dinner in the solar instead of dressing to come down tonight.

They reached the landing for the first floor and he led her down the short corridor to the solar, which had been his bedchamber growing up. He’d moved into the master chamber when he’d become the earl, so the solar had been vacant for some years. He’d written to Pearce immediately to have it freshened and prepared for Honoria. “Here we are, my dear.” He opened the door, and she continued inside, her head turning as she gazed about at her new chamber.

The solar had evolved over time into a much more comfortable accommodation than it had originally been in the medieval period when the castle had been built. Records of the building and furnishing of Knowlton’s Keep had been handed down through the centuries and Thomas had, as a boy, read the journal avidly to see what his chamber had been like in its earliest days. This solar had gone from being extremely austere, with sparse furnishings and a single tapestry, to a luxurious bedchamber, furnished with thick Aubusson carpets, beautiful tapestries, and pieces of fine furniture. A room he was proud to house his wife in, albeit hopefully temporarily. “Do you think you will be comfortable here, my dear?”

As Honoria gazed about at the beautifully decorated chamber that would be hers, she again renewed her vow to be the best of all possible wives to her husband. The chamber boasted luxuries she’d scarcely imagined after her simple life at the vicarage. She’d glimpsed elegant and lavish living while at Lord Danford’s house, but never had she believed she’d enjoy such splendors.

The enormous fireplace produced sufficient heat to ward off the chill of the stone walls, as did the myriad tapestries that lined them. Modern furniture abounded, with a delicate writing desk, toilette table, a chaise positioned before the fire and surrounded by several chairs in the style of Queen Anne that Honoria loved. The only piece of furniture that seemed out of place was the massive four-poster bed, carved from dark, heavy-looking wood, and seemingly large enough for four or more people to sleep in. Would she be comfortable? “Oh, yes, Thomas. I am certain I will be more than comfortable here.”

His face lit with a smile. “I’m glad to hear it. When I was growing up, I found the solar to be very cozy.”

“This was your room then?” Her husband certainly had lived a much different life than she.

“Yes. A tradition for first sons of the family.” He smiled ruefully. “There’s another tradition for first sons I haven’t told you yet. I hope you will not mind.”

“What is it?”

“All first sons of the first son and heir are named Thomas.” He stared at her closely, as if expecting her displeasure.

“What an interesting custom.” She found nothing objectionable about that. The name Thomas was quite ordinary. “Do you know how that came to be?”

Some of her husband’s tension eased, and Thomas motioned her to the chaise while he sat in one of the nearby chairs. “It apparently dates back to the time of my ancestor, the first Thomas Knowlton. He was a knight at the court of King Edward III, who died of the Black Plague in 1348. He’d been in Princess Joanna’s retinue as she was sailing to Spain to marry Prince Pedro. When they arrived in France almost the entire company was decimated by the pestilence.”

“Including your ancestor?” Honoria cocked her head. “But then surely—”

“He was married at the time to one of the ladies in waiting to the princess. That lady survived and bore him a son after his death. She named him Thomas, and the custom simply continued.” Thomas rose and pointed to the oldest tapestry in the castle. “This tapestry dates from the early 14th century, one of the oldest we still have, and currently in poor condition. Can you tell what the subject is?”