The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2), Sahara Kelly [best thriller novels to read txt] 📗

of Wolfbridge? I must remember to ask Giles. But for the moment, I will try my hand at recording my thoughts, scattered though they are.

I can scarce believe it is already Easter. Were it not for the tempting aroma of freshly baked hot cross buns, followed by the scent of lamb as it drifted around and through the house, I would not have known the date at all. Certainly I can see budding trees from my window, and occasionally sunshine lights up the daffodils growing here and there. But I have yet to venture outdoors, so the passing of the winter into spring has been accomplished without any assistance from myself.

And what a strange situation I find myself in. Lady of Wolfbridge Manor, a title and a heritage I’ve never heard of, is now mine.

Indeed, given that my life was saved, my body restored to a semblance of health, and my every wish catered to, I am inclined to believe it all, unless I truly did die at the Dower House, and am a resident of a Heaven which looks a lot more familiar than the one I had expected.

I’ll certainly be happy here after experiencing the Hell to which I was unwillingly committed, so be it real or imaginary, my present is much better than my past.

That period is becoming blurred in my memory, and perhaps it is for the best. I recall some things, unpleasant things, upon which I prefer not to dwell. But the crawling hunger, the agony of facing my own demise…those will, I believe, remain a part of me for some time to come.

So I must turn my thoughts - and some of these words - to my new life here, and since I know little of the Manor House, and nothing of its holdings yet, I can at least talk of the people who live here.

Oddly enough, there seems to be only four - four men. And Giles, but I cannot include him, since although he says he occupies the post of butler, it would appear that his are the hands guiding Wolfbridge. He strikes me as a man who holds everything close; he does not indulge in empty conversation - each statement is factual, useful and to the point. A man of few words, yet one senses the power surrounding him, not only in his controlled demeanour, but in the manner others treat him.

Every man here shows respect and admiration for Giles. Even, dare I say it, affection, in a very masculine sort of way. So he is at the head of this strange little world in which I now live. He is deferential to me, always polite and interested. But were we to disagree on something important? I would have to work hard to win that argument, I think.

Gabriel has tended me the most. At least I assume he has, since I do not recall my early days here at all. But his is the first face that became familiar, and he’s borne the brunt of my nursing during this trying time. Oddly enough, I have become used to him cleansing my skin; there is no embarrassment or shyness on either of our parts now. Perhaps I became familiar with his voice and his touch before seeing his face; all I can say is that I trust him with my person - maybe even more than I would were he a maid here.

I have to mention that I have not yet seen a maid, and will pursue that line of enquiry further when the occasion arises. But for now, Gabriel tends me very well. He has promised me a bath today, and a further treat - a meal downstairs.

I shall enjoy Easter Sunday dinner in the Wolfbridge dining room. A pleasure indeed for this unwilling but fortunate captive to escape her chambers.

Will the others attend? I have no idea, since I have yet to fully comprehend the slightly confusing mandate of this place. It is, according to Giles, designed for the Lady’s welfare. And I am now well enough to recognise the obvious advantages - four handsome men ready to wait on me hand and foot.

Might that thought keep me restless at night? I don’t know. It has been quite a while since I felt any attraction whatsoever for the male gender. But it’s possible that Wolfbridge could reawaken some of that interest. Time will tell.

Evan, the cook, is another charming man - quiet though, and not given to initiating in-depth conversations. I believe there is more to him than he shows; his talents with meals are turning out to be quite extraordinary, and I do owe him a debt of gratitude for tempting my appetite with his small, but mouthwatering dishes.

Jeremy - the first footman, according to Giles. A pair of twinkling eyes, wonderfully joyous, and I’m coming to believe that there may be an excellent intellect lurking behind the ready wit. Altogether charming, but whether I would trust him…I have yet to decide. Sometimes a laughing face can hide less pleasant attributes.

The estate manager, Royce - he’s one I have still to fathom. Apparently he is newly arrived at Wolfbridge, so is immersing himself in learning the ins and outs of the Manor and its business. He did tend me when Giles brought me here; his military service included an enlarged familiarity with matters of basic medicine. Something I can certainly believe, given that he served in the horrors of war.

So I must be grateful to these gentlemen for their care, and for the part each has played in assisting me along the road back to full health. But that doesn’t mean I am about to profess my undying gratitude.

I won’t do that to any of them. Or indeed any man. Not now, not ever. The treatment I have experienced has inured me to such emotions. I am