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

question of how to introduce her? Or present her? Or whatever it is you do to show her off to everyone as the Lady of the Manor?”

To her surprise, Gwyneth burst out laughing, and the others stared at her in astonishment. “Forgive me, but that sounds so silly. Perhaps I should be put on a wagon and paraded around the estate.” She giggled. “There should be little girls in white and pink throwing rose petals before me, and I shall sit on a large chair covered with silk and beneath an arch filled with hyacinths…”

“And musicians following, of course…a merry tune on fife and lute…” Jeremy teased.

“Morris dancers?”

“Wrong time of year,” said Evan, grinning as he responded to her suggestion. “That’s Whit Sunday, I think, and besides we don’t have any around Wolfbridge, as far as I know.”

Giles joined the laughter, noted Gwyneth, but she sensed his mind was elsewhere. In this she was correct, as his next statement revealed.

“Perhaps in the morning, if you’re not overtired, we should touch on some matters pertaining to this topic in a more fundamental manner.”

“How do you mean, Giles?” She tilted her head to one side.

“We need to prepare you now, as you regain your strength. There are many things you must be made aware of, and although a procession with small children and rose petals is not part of any Wolfbridge celebration I can think of, we might consider some sort of event to mark your debut, as it were.”

She considered that. “I do feel it’s time for me to assume the mantle you have so kindly offered,” she said. “I can only hope I shall prove worthy of the name.”

“All the Ladies I have known never failed to prove themselves, Ma’am,” Giles smiled. “And there have been quite a few.”

“A solid history, then,” Gwyneth looked around her. “One wonders how many of your Ladies have sat in this very seat, enjoying such a conversation.”

“A good point,” mused Evan. “And I believe that notion deserves something sweet while we ponder.”

Jeremy grinned. “Ahhh. Excellent suggestion.” He rose to help Evan. “By the way, Trick and Jane were at church this morning.”

“Oh, how are they? I must pay a visit soon.” Giles turned back to Gwyneth. “The estate neighbouring this one is known as Fivetrees and is currently owned by the Fairhurst family.”

The name meant nothing to Gwyneth, so she merely looked interested.

“Trick, a nickname for Trevallyn Jones, was one of our gentlemen until last year. There were some unpleasant happenings, and he had to leave us for a while, during which time he became close to Mrs Barnsley’s daughter Jane. They wed just before Christmas.”

“And they are now working for the Fairhursts?” Gabriel chimed in. “I’ve heard the name, that’s about all.”

“Not exactly working,” said Jeremy, returning to the table with a delicious-looking Simnel cake, complete with the traditional eleven balls of marzipan.

Gwyneth’s mouth watered for the taste of the masterpiece Evan had created from fruits and almonds.

“Trick and Jane have agreed to be caretakers of Fivetrees, which is currently available for purchase,” Jeremy finished his commentary and set out plates.

“The current owner, Miss Judith Fairhurst—or I should say Lady Withersby, since she also married recently—has become my ward,” said Giles, accepting a piece of cake. “She resides in London with her husband; he has his own estates so she has no need to. or interest in, retaining Fivetrees. Her uncle, with whom she lived for a short while last year, died under mysterious circumstances, and the rest of the family washed their hands of it all.”

Gabriel gave a dramatic groan as he ate. “This cake, Evan…” he paused and placed his hand over his heart. “The best Simnel cake I have ever tasted.”

“I’m happy you like it,” grinned Evan. “I’ve always enjoyed making it. The scent alone reminds me that winter is on the way out and Spring lies ahead.”

“One can only hope,” said Royce, who had been quietly listening to the conversation. “Giles, the unpleasant circumstances you mentioned in relation to Fivetrees…can you elaborate on that?”

“Briefly. Some details should be omitted, I think. Not suitable for the dinner table.”

“Very well, but I’d like to have an idea of what happened…”

“Sir Amery Fairhurst was killed,” answered Giles, his voice level. “Poisoned in his own dining room.”

Silence fell for a minute or two, and Gwyneth stared at her cake, trying to absorb that pronouncement.

Gabriel recovered first. “Oh my God. By whom?”

Giles sighed. “We do not yet know the identity of the poisoner. There was a deal of incorrect assumption at the time. Lady Adalyn was, in fact, present when it happened, as was Trick. Information was laid against him, and that’s what took him away for close to six months last year.” He ate a small piece of cake. “Thankfully, his name has been cleared, so he and Jane are free to mind Fivetrees for Judith.”

“A relief indeed,” said Evan. “And I heard—from Mrs Barnsley, of course—that they might be giving us some happy news soon.”

Jeremy’s face lit up. “Really? Oh how wonderful. And how we shall be able to rag Trick about impending fatherhood.”

Gwyneth enjoyed the following responses, noting Giles’s amused grin, and Royce’s removed interest. He was listening—had been listening to every word. And Gwyneth would wager he’d remember who said what at exactly what moment. She could almost see his mind working to catalogue and store information, expressions, details…

He caught her looking at him and dipped his head politely.

She looked away and managed another small bite of cake. Delicious though it was, she knew she had reached her limit. Her back was starting to ache, her limbs felt exhausted and she wanted her bed.

Evan noticed. “My Lady, I am pleased you enjoyed your meal, but I sense it has also tired you. It’s your