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

“How did you…”

“Hah.” Harry snickered. “Strategy, old lad.” He threw Royce’s words back at him with a chuckle.

But Royce knew the game was over. It was a matter of either going through the final moves, or declaring the game over right now.

His assumption was verified as Harry leaned back with a sigh and lay down his king. “Your game, and a damned fine one it was.” He held out his hand and Royce shook it. “A pleasure to lose to someone so well-versed in the intricacies of chess.”

“Agreed. We must play on a regular basis. I think you could easily take me, but I sense you’re out of practice.”

“You’d be right.” Harry stared at the fire. “I’ve not had the chance nor the inclination to play for some years now. But it seems that here I’ve found both.”

“What else have you found?” Royce sipped his brandy, awaiting the answer to his deceptively casual question.

Harry was silent for a little while. “A new friend?” He eyed Darcy.

“He does seem to have taken to you, doesn’t he?”

Harry chuckled. “Dogs have always liked me. I like them too. As long as Gwyneth doesn’t mind, we’re quite happy.”

“She’d have said something if she’d minded.” Royce gazed across the chessboard. “Mostly she will tell you what she’s thinking.”

“A woman of strong will,” observed Harry.

“Indeed.”

“And very beautiful.”

“Yes.”

Harry turned his head and gazed at Royce. “Have you had her?”

“Would it bother you if I had?” He shot back.

That gave Harry pause, and to his credit, he took his time to think about it. One of the features Royce had noticed that pleased him.

Finally, Harry shook his head. “No. No, it wouldn’t bother me. Any more than knowing the others have enjoyed her.” He took a breath and frowned. “It should, but it doesn’t.” He gazed at Royce. “Why is that? I’ve shared a woman before, and—to be blunt—been shared by women. I’ve enjoyed both, but there’s been no…no entanglement.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “If that’s the right word. I am becoming entangled in Gwyneth. I should be less than happy thinking that she’s upstairs right now doing God knows what with God knows who.”

“But…?”

“But it doesn’t bother me. For some unknown reason, I seem to want her to be happy, no matter how she achieves it.”

“Maybe it’s something in the water,” grinned Royce.

“You never answered my question,” Harry eyed him. “Have you enjoyed the favours of our Lady?”

Royce wondered how much to reveal. He decided on a limited version of the truth. “When I first arrived, it was not to fulfil the position I now hold. Giles was in charge; I was simply one of her gentlemen. We spent a night together, enjoying each other, but since my interests aren’t always as simple as a quick fuck, then my answer is no. I have not had Lady Gwyneth in the traditional sense.”

“Regrets?”

“Some,” admitted Royce. “She lures me still, although I’m not sure she knows it. My memories haunt me. And yet…this is Wolfbridge, and the mandate of this place, according to Giles, is quite clear. Until I give up the position I hold, I cannot touch the Lady. The thinking is that someone has to have a clear mind and, if necessary, a cold heart.”

Harry thought about that. “I don’t envy you,” he said quietly. “I’ve had one night with her, and now I am craving more. Can I share that time with another man? I’m not sure, but for the chance to be inside her again? I believe I could probably endure anything.”

“There is a mystique, I suspect. Something within ourselves that responds to this place. We bring pleasure to the Lady and that is returned to us in equal if not greater measure. And not just in bed…” Royce found himself almost thinking aloud.

“I agree,” Harry answered, half-surprised. “When we’re together, and she laughs at something someone said, we’re all laughing too. It is indeed shared delight in each other. Perhaps the isolation helps too,” he offered. “We’re not subject to the pressures of London life or societal dictates. We can be ourselves.”

“And to be loved for ourselves…it is a rare gift,” Royce nodded. “I do believe Lady Gwyneth cares for all of us because of the people we are, not because of what we do for her.”

“Which is indeed rare, also desirable and guaranteed to ensnare the most callous heart,” agreed Harry.

Royce stretched. “Yes, ’tis a strange place we find ourselves in, my friend. But given what we’ve experienced?”

“Not quite heaven, but close.”

*~~*~~*

Gwyneth, though she didn’t realise it, shared Harry’s opinion of life at Wolfbridge. She was happy, truly happy, enjoying her gentlemen, and also very glad to be able to involve herself in the activities of their little community.

The school project had started with drawings, suggestions and a meeting with just about all the tenants, who excitedly voiced their thoughts. Even Vicar Thomas took advantage of a sunny winter day to drive over and add his mite to the conversation.

For Gwyneth, it was a double pleasure. As Lady of Wolfbridge, she could oversee and listen to everyone’s ideas. And there were many, more than a few wholly impractical, but fun to hear all the same.

As Gwyneth, Dowager Duchess of Kilham, however, she took enormous satisfaction in the knowledge that the money her vicious stepson had withheld was now helping toward making education a reality for so many deserving children. It helped offset the terrible situation he’d forced her into, and from which Giles had saved her in the nick of time.

She looked up from the meeting through the windows of what would be the new school and caught sight of the Wolfbridge chimneys. It was her home now.