The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3), Sahara Kelly [english novels for students .TXT] 📗

body lax and limp beside him. He carefully eased her beneath the covers and then settled himself.

He’d hoped to sleep too, but his mind still whirled with the aftereffects of a remarkable release. His third. In the same night.

For someone who had been less than sexually active for many months, it had been—although he said it himself—a pretty spectacular display of masculinity.

And he admitted to himself that yes, his cock was a bit sore. He hoped he hadn’t hurt Gwyneth at all, and that if she was sore, she would forgive him.

He shifted, turning on one side and watching her sleep.

As of this night, he was now, well and truly, one of her gentlemen.

How was he going to deal with this strange situation? Tonight had been his night, just him and the Lady of Wolfbridge.

But tomorrow, it might be Evan pleasuring her. Or Jeremy and Gabriel. Or all three of them. Visions of limbs and breasts and cocks danced busily through his mind, bringing a twitch or two to his own weapon. However, it apparently thought better of the idea, and went back to sleep. A good thing, since even Harry baulked at waking Gwyneth a fourth time…

He closed his eyes, expecting to be troubled at the thought of sharing Gwyneth, as he most surely would have to.

Yet for some odd reason, he could feel no antipathy toward the others. Jeremy was becoming a good friend, as was Evan. They were intelligent men with whom he enjoyed conversing. Gabriel…well, no one could fail to like Gabriel. His sunny smile and quick mind were most endearing.

Royce? He was a mystery, and yet part of him felt more in tune with Royce than anyone else. It had to be their shared experiences with war and everything that went along with it. Those bonds were unique.

No, there was no animosity at the thought of any of those men in Gwyneth’s bed. Somehow, somewhere along the line, the traditional rules of such things had been banished from Wolfbridge.

And he wasn’t in the least bit sorry.

On that comforting thought, he drifted into sleep…

Only to be awoken an hour or so later by a loud pounding on the door and the eruption of Gabriel into the room.

Both he and Gwyneth lifted their heads groggily off the pillows.

“My Lady, Gwyneth…oh Harry, good…” Gabriel rushed to the bed. “You must dress, my Lady. Jane’s baby is arriving, too early, and Trick has brought her here. A boy is to fetch Mrs B, but Jane is very afraid…”

“Oh lord,” Gwyneth slithered out of bed, and Harry couldn’t help noticing her wince. “Have you woken Royce? He will doubtless be the best equipped to help…”

“I’ll let you dress, my Lady.” Harry was already halfway out of the bed and reaching for his shirt.

Gabriel ignored all of that, just nodding with a worried frown. “Royce is already down there. Come down as quickly as you can…”

Harry’s heart raced as he hurried to his room. A rather unexpected end to an evening of bliss, that was for sure. But then again, this was Wolfbridge—the home of the unexpected.

Chapter Eleven

Gwyneth dressed as fast as she could, threw on the nearest pair of slippers and rushed downstairs without bothering about the rest of her appearance.

Jeremy appeared in the hall as she arrived, looking much as she did…shirt and breeches and bare feet. He carried a pile of clean linens.

“She’s in the Yellow room, Gwyneth. The couch in there is old and should be big enough…”

He spoke as he walked, and she followed him into a brightly lit space that must have once served as a ladies’ receiving room. It had held some unused winter blankets and outer garments, but now it held a much more precious occupant and branches of candles everywhere.

Jane lay prone, her face white, her eyes wide and scared. A blanket covered the large bump she was cradling with her hands, but she was clearly in pain and in no mood for a nap.

“It’s coming, Trick,” she whimpered, clutching his hand.

Her husband knelt next to her. “Indeed it is, cariad,” he soothed. “Be brave now.” His Welsh accent echoed strongly with his tension.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jane’s plaintive cry touched Gwyneth’s heart, and she rushed forward.

“Your baby does, Jane. So you have to relax if you can. There’s going to be some pain, of course, but after it’s done, the babe will be the newest member of your family.”

Trick made to rise, but Gwyneth shook her head. “Stay where you are, my dear. Your wife needs you more than anyone. Everything else is unimportant.”

Royce came in, followed by Evan and Harry, both of whom carried buckets of steaming water.

“Right then.” Royce looked around. “Harry, stoke up the fire if you would? Gabriel, move tables near and put candles on them. We need light.”

“The linens?” Jeremy nodded to the large pile.

“I’ll take care of them,” said Gwyneth.

Royce looked at Jane. “We are going to ask a great deal of you, Jane. First, you have to get up and take off your gown. I’m sorry, but that is absolutely necessary.”

Jane gulped and looked at Trick.

“It’s all right, my love. I trust these men with my life. And something even more important…I trust them with you and our babe.” He looked at Royce. “You’ve had more experience than most doctors I know, so ’tis said…”

“I have.” Royce was washing his hands in a bowl of hot water Evan had filled beneath the candles. “I’ve even delivered two babes, so I know what to expect.” He wrinkled his nose. “Don’t know how women do it, but nevertheless it gets done.”

“Oohhh…” Jane shuddered in pain, her knuckles white as she gripped Trick’s hand.

“Breathe, dear,” said Gabriel. “I’ve heard it helps. Slow now.