Lady Adalyn (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 1), Sahara Kelly [the best e book reader .TXT] 📗

I had cherished a tiny hope it might progress even further, but the events at Fivetrees pushed such things temporarily aside. I say ‘temporarily’ since when all was said and done, Evan stayed behind to make sure I was comfortable and ready for sleep.

He brought a book with him, but this was no relaxing novel, or educational essay. This was…well, most lascivious in nature. Dare I confess I enjoyed it? That I trembled with every word, every sensual detail? That the erotic pictures it painted in my mind blinded me?

Evan knew, I think. Perhaps he heard me draw breath at some of the actions the heroine took to satisfy herself and her gentleman. Or perhaps he saw the flush I felt cover my cheeks with fire. I can only say his kiss was warm, tender and affectionate, his tongue finding mine and touching it with delight.

I wanted to hold him, keep his face where it was, and explore more of these pleasurable feelings. But once again, he drew back and bid me goodnight. I was left in a state of confusion, and I will be very honest—arousal. With the story still afire in my thoughts, I pretended that I was the heroine, a woman of self-confidence, of unabashed determination, a woman who could do such things not only with ease, but in front of a man.

I pretended I was being watched, although I dared not remove my covers. I saw four sets of eyes, my four gentlemen watching my hand…and oh my goodness. I shattered into a million little pieces, dear Diary. Something magnificent happened as a wave of spasms so surprising and exquisite swept over my body, billowing from my sex to my earlobes. I was lost for long moments in a place where there was only blind bliss. Shocking, stunning and wonderful.

I slept quite soundly afterward.

So here I am, starting a new day, and with events around and within Wolfbridge developing in many ways. I wonder what will be next?

Chapter Thirteen

Wolfbridge was subdued; it was the weekend, so there were some bookkeeping chores to be completed, and accounts rendered into some kind of order. In addition, Adalyn had discovered that she enjoyed taking time to work up suggested menus for the next week, although Evan would have the final say on the ones she produced.

She was doing her best to grow into the role of mistress of Wolfbridge, and it was a happy coincidence that everyone encouraged her to do so. Daniel had turned over quite a bit of the housekeeping business to her with a relieved smile, and Evan welcomed her input on meals, enjoying their discussions about what might be in season and how best to make use of it.

The following day, however, she and Giles had determined that she should begin attending the local church.

“It has been long enough, my Lady,” he said over breakfast. “The eleven o’clock service is well attended, and it’s time the Wolfbridge pew is used once more.”

She looked at him. “Will I have to attend alone?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “It will be my honour to escort you, and sit with you in that particular pew. This is a long-standing tradition, ensuring the Lady of Wolfbridge always has a companion at her side. The Fairhursts are seated on the other side of the aisle.” He paused. “Although I doubt you’ll see Miss Judith there today.”

“I trust she is well,” said Adalyn. “There was no reply to my note?”

“None. I wasn’t expecting there to be, but you made the right decision in offering assistance.”

“I’m glad,” she answered. “And as far as church is concerned, then yes. I’d be very happy to attend.” She glanced at the clock. “And given the time, I should make myself ready.”

Giles rose. “I will await your pleasure, my Lady.”

She paused before leaving the room. “Will I be a figure of interest, Giles? How many of the congregation will know who I am?”

“A fair question,” he acknowledged. “Once you sit in that pew, your identity will be clear to all without a word being spoken. So in that regard, yes, you will be a figure of interest and everyone will then know who you are.” He held the door open for her. “Are you concerned?”

“A little nervous, perhaps…”

“No need, Lady Adalyn. Just be yourself.”

She shot him a look of mild amusement. “Easy for you to say.”

He grinned back. “Indeed.”

She hurried to her room, her mind skittering over the coming outing with a certain amount of trepidation. Her hands shook a little as she reached up to smooth her hair into a tidier knot and secure a few stray strands with a hairpin.

Surveying her gown, she concluded it would do. Simple in style, but well designed, it was a pale grey wool, high necked and long sleeved, which she appreciated in this weather, but trimmed with gentle ruffles of unusual pearl grey lace. There were black bands at the hem and a black ribbon to tie beneath her breasts.

With the addition of her black spencer, and her bonnet with only a small grey and black ribbon rosette for decoration, she felt she would represent Wolfbridge and her status as a widow with great effectiveness. None could accuse her of flaunting anything, nor would anyone argue that she was trying to be something she wasn’t.

Her childhood experiences in church had shown her the worst of those things—women who pranced in on a Sunday, draped in their finest gowns and glancing over the congregation like gaudy birds of prey, seeking a likely gentleman. Or the people who strode down the aisle as if expecting God to thank them for being there. Those were the ones who ignored the rest of the world, looking down their noses, believing themselves to be far above the hoi-polloi beside whom they were forced to worship.

Adalyn knew she was neither, thank Heavens. Although she spared a moment to wonder exactly