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involved felt more than a little relieved. It was somewhat ironic, pointed out Jeremy, that the Earl had been in the very cell where Trick had spent a miserable six months.

They also regretted, but failed to mention to the authorities, that they strongly suspected the Earl had been responsible for Randschen’s death.

Royce had put forward the suggestion, pointing out that if Kilham had been skulking around Wolfbridge, he might have been seen by the Baron coming to collect his weapon. Such an occurrence would easily have led to violence, since the Earl couldn’t afford to have his presence revealed.

They all regretted the manner of his death. They did not, however, mourn his absence.

Consequently, many more legal enquiries had been initiated. Royce had fielded correspondence from an assortment of lawyers and creditors with reference to the estate, but they still lacked the news they sought. She was hoping this letter might answer some of the most pressing questions.

“Would you mind opening it now? I think we’re all eager to hear what the lawyers have to say.” Gwyneth was on tenterhooks. She wanted that part of her life done with. Then, and only then, she felt she had a chance to fully explore who she was now, without any lingering shadows.

“Very well.” Royce took a bite of fresh bread and broke the seal on the official-looking letter, opening it and scanning it quickly. Then he put down the bread and scanned it once again.

“Uhh…Gwyneth?” His eyes remained glued to the words on the page, and he turned to the second sheet, perusing that as well.

“What? Royce? What is it?”

Everyone’s eyes were riveted on Royce. Who finally put the letter down and looked at Gwyneth. Then cleared his throat. “It seems that there was no second will, but your husband had added a codicil. You were supposed to be in control of Kilham Abbey and the estate should he predecease you. The income was to go to Ernest, but only the income. Now that he has died, the entire Kilham Abbey estate goes to the last remaining member of the family cited in the will. That’s you.” He looked up at her. “Kilham is yours.”

She blinked. Stared at Royce, and blinked again, struggling against an odd roaring in her ears.

“Gwyneth?” Royce looked back at her. “Did you hear what I said? You’re the last in the Kilham family and you’re now a very rich widow because of it.”

“Dear God above,” she breathed. “The last thing I want is anything to do with that miserable estate and the people who live there.” Her heart thundered. “He married me to get an heir. He never loved me, although he didn’t mistreat me. But his servants didn’t like me and his son…that bastard damn near killed me. He wanted me to die. In fact, he said so.” She clutched the table cloth. “I don’t want it, Royce. I don’t want Kilham. And I won’t leave Wolfbridge for it, that’s for damn sure.” Her breath choked.

Tears stung her eyes, but she held them in check. She was Wolfbridge now. Kilham could rot for all she cared.

“All right, Gwyneth. Breathe.” Royce kept his voice calm. “You do not have to do anything at this moment. Give yourself time to think. Should you decide not to take up residence at Kilham, you can sell it. Since you’re the last in line, there is no entail to follow. It can go on the market whenever you wish.”

She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Yes. I think that would be the best course of action.” She stared down at her intertwined fingers. “I have to wonder if he was behind the blackmail letter. Perhaps he had finally learned of the codicil.” She looked up at Royce. “He would have been one of the few in a position to learn about such matters.”

Royce nodded. “A logical supposition, yes. Your maid came with you when you married Kilham, I would guess?”

“Indeed.” Gwyneth sighed. “How strange life is sometimes.” A thought struck her. “I would have the capital, right? If I sold Kilham Abbey, the whole thing, the proceeds would be mine?”

Royce paused. “The legal details would need to be finalized, but yes, I can’t see why not. Pending the settlement of bills and the matters of tenancy…” He ran his hand through his hair, frowning over the details. “Once that’s completed, the balance would be yours.”

“Then I can invest some of it here at Wolfbridge. Expand our holdings perhaps, or build a few new farms. Get some additional farmers on the land. Fields. We could always use new fields, couldn’t we?” She leaned forward, smiling now as future opportunities replaced past shadows.

“I’d like a new stove,” offered Evan with a little grin.

“The Rose room could use a coat of paint and new drapes,” Jeremy chimed in.

“And you, Gwyneth. What do you want?” Gabriel, sitting next to her, covered her hand at the table and squeezed it.

“I want to stay here and be happy with you all,” she said, the words springing unbidden but coming directly from everything that she was.

“I think that can be arranged.” Gabriel gave her the smile that always brought an answering one to her lips. “Yes, I think we can all manage that quite nicely.”

Her heart settled, her tensions drained away and she chuckled. “Oh, and I’d also like a puppy…”

*~~*~~*

A few weeks after Giles’s departure, Jeremy walked into the Rose room to find her. “Gwyneth, can you come and see if these flowers work? Gabriel’s out there digging all over the place. He’s worse than Darcy.”

A little yip from around her feet told Gwyneth that her new pup had heard his name mentioned. A tiny black and white ball of fluff emerged from behind her and stared at Jeremy, big eyes wide.

“Of course. Come along, sprout, let’s

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