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

above all others to thy liking. When this doth occur, thou art free to wed, and may do so with the good wishes of Wolfbridge and those who remain within. Marriage, no matter to whom, will mean thy resignation of the title and thy departure from Wolfbridge Manor. It will always welcome thy presence as a guest, but must be now endowed to the next mistress when she is discovered.

 

Inasmuch as the property boundaries are declared—the Manor must remain intact. Sell not, nor barter, nor trade acreage, for this property is deeded in its entirety to the future and those Ladies of Wolfbridge yet to come. Any attempt or avowal to part with any land shall render thy presence untenable. No matter the occurrence, the land is all and must never be diminished by even one rod. Do what is needed to ensure it ever remains thus.

 

Do good works, Lady of Wolfbridge. Fill thy heart with warmth and joy, and thy mind with the will to help others as thou hast been helped. Continue the tradition of rendering aid without thought of recompense, and seek out those who will benefit from such attentions. Trust thy gentlemen, love them, give them thy heart and allow them to do likewise.

 

I envy thee and wish thee all the joy that has been my share and more. May thee find thy life enriched and enlightened by thy time as Lady of Wolfbridge.

 

With affection,

Yrs,

Aphrodite Wolfbridge”

Gwyneth read it through more than once, pausing after each reading to absorb more of the facts and the implications.  She could not help but wonder about Aphrodite Wolfbridge, and the pain she spoke of so briefly. Had all the Wolfbridge women been wounded by men? And if so, why would a place such as this, peopled only by men, be their sanctuary? It was a bit of a puzzle, but one Gwyneth discovered she was most interested in solving.

*~~*~~*

Giles helped Gwyneth into the gig, making sure she had her parasol and her bonnet. The sun was surprisingly strong for April, and it was indeed the perfect day to venture into the fields surrounding the Manor. He’d studied her face as she left the Rose room and seen a mixture of interest and confusion. Which was as it should be.

Lady Aphrodite had done her job.

In silence, they drove down the lanes toward the fields, and within moments, the sound of voices calling gaily to other voices interrupted the afternoon air.

It was indeed balmy, the sky clear but for a few puffy clouds, and the breeze—what little there was—quite pleasant on the skin. A good crowd had mixed amongst the growing raspberry bushes, and a little noise of pleasure emanated from the woman beside him as she first saw the field in its entirety.

Most of the rows had already been cleared and less than a quarter remained. Children ran up and down with baskets, letting their family fill them with weeds, then hurrying to the ends of the rows to empty the greens into large bins that would be taken to the various farms and used for either feed or fertiliser.

Giles knew that leaves and other rubbish would get added to some of them, turning them into rich and productive soil for gardens. Nothing went to waste in the country if at all possible, and with the newest agricultural developments creeping inexorably into even the most remote corners of England, yields were going to increase significantly. Which meant more work, and more food…hopefully all would benefit.

He would encourage Lady Gwyneth to make sure that her tenants received an adequate piece of that enlarged pie.

“Oh look, there. Our gentlemen,” she pointed at a row. “Goodness, they’re working hard and fast, aren’t they?” She threw Giles a quick smile then turned back to watch. “They must be so hot…”

Noting that they wore their shirts—a wise precaution against the sun that others had not taken—he nodded. “I’m sure they are. But they won’t burn their skin. Some of these other lads are going to feel a mite uncomfortable tomorrow.”

Gwyneth shook her head. “But this is a chance for them to show off their manly forms, Giles. And look at the appreciative audience…”

He looked and realised she was right. Although the young women also plucked weeds from the rows, there appeared to be more in certain places than others. A quick examination showed shirtless and well-muscled young men receiving most of the attention.

He sighed.

“It bothers you?” Gwyneth had noticed his sigh.

“Not at all,” he grinned. “Especially when I can remember a few of my own experiences with raw, sunburned skin.”

“Heartless, Giles. Just heartless,” laughed Gwyneth.

He helped her down from the gig, crossing with her to the lowest point of the field. There were a few trees there, marking the boundaries, and also several willows, clearly enjoying their proximity to the pond beneath.

It had probably begun life as a swampy patch that gathered the runoff from the fields, but some enterprising mind had hollowed it out, deepened it and created a real-life pond. A few rocks edged it here and there, adding interest and a place to sit and dip one’s feet if one was so inclined. A little wooden walkway offered easy access for those wishing to jump in.

Instead of a stagnant and weedy puddle, it was now a healthy and thriving feature of the fields, contributing to the irrigation and watering of quite a large area. A pump stood nearby in a lean-to, sheltered from the elements, ready to perform its duties as an irrigation manager when the time came to water dry fields.

Gwyneth surveyed the area and nodded. “An excellent example of man using nature for his own benefit without destroying it,” she commented.

Surprised, Giles settled her on a bench and made sure the sun was kept away from her face. “Undoubtedly