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

His eyes met hers, and she read worry in them, even though his voice remained level. “At this point, my Lady, we can do nothing. If there are papers concerning the entail, I would like to see them, of course, just to make sure the wording is as we’ve assumed. But other than that, our only recourse is to wait and see if anything comes of this.”

Gabriel blew air out between his lips. “I’m not very good at waiting.”

Gwyneth couldn’t help a chuckle. “None of us are what you might call patient people,” she smiled, “with the possible exception of Evan, who seems to have endless amounts of it.”

He shook his head. “Not in this instance, my Lady. I’m in Gabriel’s camp. I don’t like the sound of this, and waiting to see what falls on our heads is not what I’d choose to do.”

“All right, then. I will find the relevant papers and also write back to Giles asking him for whatever information he has on the legal matters.”

“You know, I wonder if it might help if we could trace Wolfbridge’s lineage, so to speak.” Gwyneth pursed her lips in thought. “If we could identify the owners prior to the original Wolfbridge purchase. Just to make sure that end is unassailable.”

“It would be interesting from a historical perspective as well, my Lady. An excellent idea.” Jeremy endorsed her suggestion. “Plus it would give us something to do over the next few weeks, since our national mourning will put a bit of a damper on things, won’t it?”

There was a murmur of agreement, followed by Evan rising from the table. “Well, just to show our respect for her departed Majesty, I think I’m going to bake a Queen cake.”

“And I’ll show even more respect by eating it.” Gabriel grinned as the mood lifted and laughter once again filled the room.

Chapter Seventeen

Royce went about the business of Wolfbridge as he did every day, but beneath the routine he admitted to himself he was worried.

Once lawyers got involved in matters such as entails, wills, inheritances and so on…well, in his opinion, Shakespeare said it best through the words of Dick the Butcher in the second part of Henry VI. His suggestion, ‘The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers’ still held true for many.

While it was unlikely that the original Wolfbridge entail could be overturned, since Giles believed the matter had involved someone quite high in the pecking order, perhaps even minor Royalty, the questions that could be raised would certainly jeopardise the current living arrangements, and might well bring the mud of scandal down on all of them.

For one woman to be openly residing in a manor with five unmarried men? Unthinkable. No chaperone, no maids, nothing to preserve anyone’s propriety.

Which was pretty much what Lady Aphrodite Wolfbridge intended, of course, but probably hadn’t included on her legal papers.

So one morning in the first week of December, he decided to postpone his usual activities, and begin a search for any documents connected to the Wolfbridge entail.

Logic dictated that such things would be kept in a secure place, most likely in the study, so he methodically worked his way through three of the large shelves, hoping to find something containing loose papers.

As he looked at the fourth in disgust, a tap on the door distracted his attention.

“Enter.”

Gwyneth peered in. “I thought I’d see how you were this morning. Did you want tea or anything?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But your company would be welcome for a bit, if you’ve time?”

“Of course.” She smiled and came all the way in. “I had expected to find you at your desk, but I see you are up and about…”

“I’m looking for papers, my Lady. Important papers about Wolfbridge. There have to be copies here somewhere, and although I could write to Giles about them, I’d as soon find them now, myself.” He stared at the shelf again. “This is the next one I have to explore.” He glanced at her. “Want to help?”

“Yes, indeed,” she gawked at the large number of books that filled the sturdy piece. “You think the papers might be inside a book, rather than in a box for safekeeping?”

“I have no idea,” he sighed. “But since I’ve not found any boxes other than those in the desk, it’s a place to start. Once I’ve cleared them, then I can look elsewhere.” He frowned. “Not that I’d know where…”

“Hmm.” She stared again at the bookshelf, then shot a quick glance at the desk. “You know, I just noticed that this doesn’t match the shelves.”

Royce blinked. “What?”

“Look. The moulding and the wood. They aren’t the same.”

“Gwyneth,” he said, staring at her. “If I’d wanted furniture evaluation I’d have asked for it.”

She chuckled. “Don’t be snippy. What I’m pointing out is that perhaps the desk you’re using was not the original desk in here. And if so…” She raised an eyebrow at him.

He blew out a huff. “There may be boxes in another desk somewhere else. Yes, of course.” He eyed her. “My apologies, my Lady. My impatience overcame me and I spoke rudely. Please forgive me.”

He could see her biting her lip against a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Go ahead. Enjoy the humour. I was wrong. Will that do?”

She nodded, managing to keep her amusement to a light giggle. “Very nicely. You are so seldom caught out, Royce. I should apologise to you for finding it quite entertaining when it happens.”

He sighed. “My Lady, you are…a rare baggage. And I’ll not apologise for that.” He neared her, caught her chin in one hand and smiled down into those rich brown eyes. “One day…”

“Yes, Royce. One day…”

Her expression changed as her gaze dropped