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

Maggie seemed to enjoy it as well, turning so that Adalyn could administer the same loving strokes to both sides.

From the other stall, she could hear Jeremy shovelling straw around and occasionally taking a barrow load out of the stable.

Time passed, and he looked over the wall. “Let’s change sides? I need to clean Maggie’s stall and this chap would welcome a nice brush, I’m sure.”

She saw the sweat on his face and noted that he’d taken off his coat. His shirt was damp. “I’ve a better idea. Let me start cleaning here, and you begin to give the lad a good brush.”

“No, Adalyn,” answered Jeremy. “’Tis hard going.”

“I need something to put my back into. And how hard is it to fork soiled straw into the barrow and then lay down fresh?”

He looked uncertain.

“Please? I’ll tether Maggie outside for a bit, so I won’t run any risks. And if it’s too difficult, I will tell you.”

“Promise?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Of course,” she lied.

And so the Lady of Wolfbridge picked up her pitchfork and shovelled soiled straw into an empty wheelbarrow, while clad in a man’s breeches, an old shirt and boots that were a little too large for her.

Feeling the muscles moving in her back did Adalyn good. It had been some time since she’d done anything as physical as this, and being used to scrubbing floors, cleaning furniture and living an energetic—if tiring—life, the sensation was not unpleasant.

Her thoughts wandered as she worked.

“Jeremy, what are you going to do about Miss Brockford?” The question popped out of her mouth, more a thought than a question, but it seemed so natural to ask as they toiled side by side in the stalls.

“I’m not planning on doing anything, Adalyn,” he answered. “I do hope she can move forward. I cannot take responsibility for her, although I understand the two of us share a difficult incident that shaped both our lives.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” She heaved another forkful onto the barrow. “This one’s done.” She grabbed the handles and worked it out of the door toward the muck pile at the back of the stables. She knew that it would be spread over the fields as fertiliser. Nothing went to waste on a farm. Not even the waste.

She was proud of her accomplishments, even though before half an hour had passed she was feeling the muscles of her arms and shoulders.

As if he could read her mind, Jeremy came into the stall and quietly took the fork from her, giving her the curry comb instead. “Finish him, Adalyn. You’ve done enough of the hard lifting for today.”

Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she nodded. “I’m afraid you may be right.” She’d shed her coat and once she stopped moving, the chill air made the damp fabric cling. She shivered and put her coat back on.

The tasks were finally finished less than an hour later, and both Jeremy and Adalyn returned to the Manor feeling they’d accomplished what they set out to do. Walking in through the kitchen entrance, both stopped to remove their boots before stepping inside.

“Good lord,” said Evan, as they stepped barefoot into his domain. “What on earth have you two been doing? Mucking out the stables?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact we did,” answered Adalyn proudly.

“Trick’s not here to do it,” added Jeremy.

Evan closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “An excellent thought, although Giles will probably have your hide for making Adalyn work.” He glanced at her. “Are you all right? He didn’t make you really muck out the stables, did he?”

She lifted her chin. “No, he didn’t. I made him let me do it.” She took a breath. “I needed to do something for Trick, Evan. And yes, I mostly groomed the horses, but I needed a turn at the mucking out. Fair is fair.”

He shook his head. “I’ll heat water. You’ll need to soak your muscles.”

“Good idea,” said Jeremy. “Adalyn, go upstairs and get out of those clothes…we’ll draw your bath for you.”

She stared at the two of them, still astounded that such men could care so much for her well-being. Then she nodded. “All right.” She walked to her room, trying to comprehend the idea of a bath with the two of them present.

The shiver that ran over her skin had nothing to do with her still-damp shirt.

Scarcely had she slipped into her robe than they arrived at her door with several large buckets of hot water. The light was fading, so she lit the candles as Jeremy retrieved a tub from one cupboard and set it before the fire that Evan had stoked to a comfortable blaze.

Within moments the tub was filled and she stared at it longingly.

Evan retrieved cloths and a bar of soap. “Come along, Adalyn. In with you.” He stood ready to help her.

“Er…” She looked at the two of them.

“Would you prefer we turn our backs?” Jeremy’s smile was gentle, but with an undertone of something more than humour.

“Yes. Definitely yes,” she answered.

They obligingly turned away as she unfastened her robe and stepped into the tub, sighing with pleasure as she settled down into the comforting warmth. “Ahhh, so good.”

“There’s nothing better.” Jeremy startled her by rolling up his sleeves and kneeling behind her.

She slithered down beneath the water, but it was to no avail. As Jeremy unpinned her hair, Evan picked up the soap and a small cloth, and without further ado began to wash her, scenting the room with lavender.

Struck dumb, all she could do was close her eyes and let them administer to her.

She should be screaming, she knew. She should at least protest and try to hide herself from their view.

But she did neither of those things, because she wanted their hands on her. She realised her shoulders were tense but as Jeremy gently lathered her hair, the tight muscles eased. Other parts