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

determined upon a course that will involve careful consideration, calculation, and actions that will be of benefit to me. Nobody else. For only by pursuing this course will I fully recover my existence, my independence, my self-confidence - and my soul.

I thought my life had ended when I was seventeen. It hadn’t.

I thought my life would end last winter at the Dower House. It didn’t.

Now I have yet another chance at a brand-new life. This time, I shall be the one to direct it. I will not open my heart to the risk of a third betrayal by a man.

For that would indeed be the death of me.

 

*~~*~~*

Gwyneth put her pen aside as a knock on the door heralded the arrival of three of the gentlemen, Gabriel bearing towels and Jeremy and Evan with buckets of steaming water. Their entrance admitted scents that made her stomach rumble, and she turned to them, closing her journal.

“Evan, something delicious is in the oven. I can smell it. Could it be lamb?”

He grinned back. “For Easter Sunday dinner? Of course. Do you think you might be able to manage a small piece? I have plenty of other dishes as well.”

“I think I might have room.” She patted her stomach. “Although it does seem as though there’s not as much as there used to be.”

“Your stomach has shrunk, my Lady,” said Jeremy, emptying his buckets into the copper tub they’d brought in earlier. “It takes time for it to return to normal, I’m told.”

“I’m sure Evan’s cooking will help with that,” she replied. “And a bath. Truly I am surrounded by luxury today.”

“No more than your due, my Lady,” said Gabriel, arranging the towels on a nearby chair and stoking up the fire. “Now then. Are you ready?”

She glanced at the men. “Are you all staying?”

Jeremy’s gaze turned wicked. “Are you inviting us?”

Caught off-guard by both the look and the question, she stuttered. “I…er…”

“Oh hush,” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Never mind him.” He turned to the other men and made shooing motions with his hands. “Off with you both now. Lady Gwyneth will join you before dinner in the parlour. Go…go…”

“Enjoy your bath, my Lady,” bowed Jeremy.

“We’ll have a fine meal for your first Easter Sunday, Lady Gwyneth,” promised Evan.

Gabriel shut the door behind them with a sigh. “Sometimes they’re difficult to get rid of,” he chuckled. “Now, let’s see about your bath.”

Gwyneth watched as he put another log on the fire, coaxing it into a warm blaze. Easter it might be, but the unpredictable weather still couldn’t decide whether to be warm or cool. This day was cool, blustery and with heavy clouds scudding over the land.

He took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves and tested the water with one hand.

“Is it ready?” She was looking forward to a long soak.

“I think so.” He stood. “I’ve put a touch of rose oil in there, so that should help with softening your skin.”

She got up slowly from the chair, using the desk to support herself. “I’m still wobbly, damn…,” she swore.

“Give yourself time, dear lady. You’ve been through a serious and dangerous experience. Patience is required.”

She sighed. “Of that, I have little.” Carefully she made her way across the room, grateful that he neither commented nor offered to help. She would have lost a little respect for him had he suggested any.

Reaching his side, he nodded in approval. “Well done, my Lady. Well done indeed.” He reached for the tie of her robe and loosened it, easing it away from her shoulders, leaving her in her nightgown. “I think we’ll wash your hair today too. How does that sound?”

“Idyllic,” she answered.

The first time she’d seen herself, with the shorn head, she’d wept. Gabriel had dried her tears, then assured her it would grow back and he’d tidy it up for her as soon as she was better. He’d done so, as handy with scissors as any maid, and now she looked more the thing.

But oh, how she missed her long hair.

Without any ceremony, Gabriel stripped her naked and took her hand, steadying her carefully as she stepped into the water. His touches on her skin were necessary, gentle and impersonal, but for the first time she felt them in a different way.

She felt like a naked woman being touched by a man.

And to her surprise, it was not unpleasant.

Settling down with a sigh of delight, she dipped her hands beneath the surface and let droplets cascade over her drawn-up knees.

“Close your eyes…” Gabriel poured a jug of water over her head.

She sputtered and spat. “A few seconds' notice might help,” she coughed.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t sound repentant, but then again, he was now washing her hair with some rose-scented soap, so how could she complain?

“A wonderful fragrance,” she murmured, feeling her neck and shoulders relax beneath his thorough attentions.

“One of our tenants makes this soap, and some of the other things we’ve used. The rose oil, of course, the soaps, and she’s added a bit of it to some sweet almond oil. Says that just a touch will help hair look shiny and healthy. I’m to rub another tiny drop into your scalp, since she promises increased growth with regular use.”

“Goodness. Is she one of those herbal women?”

“No, just one with common sense, a family to feed and a very productive rose garden.”

Gabriel’s matter-of-fact announcement made Gwyneth chuckle. “I would like to meet her. It sounds as if she has both feet on the ground as far as business is concerned.”

“Quite a lot of our tenants do, my Lady.” Gabriel’s fingers were massaging her head and it was a truly luxurious experience.

“That must help with their rents, I suppose,” she mused.

“They do not pay rent, as I understand