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

But he could detect no sweet jasmine or spicy smell, no touch of the ocean or rich deep mountain forests. Perhaps he was imagining that he might recall those fragrances, or perhaps it was all just wishful thinking. How far away it all seemed sometimes, and yet then one night he’d dream—and it was all there.

Nearly thirty years. So much time had passed since his sojourn in a part of the world so different from England it looked like a vision from some fantastic painting.

The light, the colours, the heat—all strange manifestations of a realm he could never have imagined, and yet found himself travelling through, surrounded by a teeming and boisterous town, soldiers, slaves and settlers; an endless ocean of humanity washing the beaches of an endless ocean of blues that dazzled the eye.

So long ago.

Some things a man could never forget.

Giles sighed, reluctantly recalling himself to the present. He had never regretted becoming part of Wolfbridge Manor. He loved the house, the estate and the people who had lived and worked and loved here for generations. How could he not? It was his home and had been for more than two decades. He had made it what it was today, in many ways, and was proud of what he’d accomplished.

He was even prouder of the women he’d stood beside over those twenty years. Right up until today, when Lady Gwyneth showed every sign of becoming a true Lady of Wolfbridge.

He’d seen that light come into her eyes today. The one that inevitably dawned when the sheer pleasure her gentlemen took in making her life better turned into an awareness, the beginnings of desire.

Gwyneth was one woman who would definitely be strengthened by this knowledge, and by acting upon it. She had received the worst treatment possible at the hands of a man, and this was after a marriage that had brought her little in the way of joy.

Yes, she would learn how to hold her head high, how to be better than she was. She would learn the depths of pleasure that hid within every woman, and again, that learning would add to her self-confidence.

How little it took to make a woman raise her chin and be proud of herself. And how seldom men realised that fact.

Giles took another drink. Whiskey helped at times like these; times when his thoughts girdled the earth, as it were, and when they delved within his Lady’s psyche.

Many might have viewed his position as butler, plain and simple.

In fact, it was more. A great deal more. And sometimes his shoulders ached with the burdens he carried.

The letter in front of him might add to, or ease, those burdens. If he didn’t read it, he’d never find out.

Putting down his glass, he reached for the small packet, picked up his paper knife and slit the strings.

Chapter Eighteen

Journal of Gwyneth, Dowager Countess, Lady of Wolfbridge - May 1818

I know I am supposed to keep a daily record of my life in this journal. And I shall try to at least record some of my thoughts more often than every other month. But with so much of my time spent on recovering my strength and learning about Wolfbridge…there hasn’t been chance or, indeed, a need for such a thing.

After all, I have to wonder what sort of Lady would be interested in the megrims of her predecessor? Would any of them care that Evan has made me some of the most delicious meals, many of which I truly believe have helped me attain my current state of well-being?

They would probably be more interested in knowing how Evan’s lips taste and how masterful are his kisses. And they might also smile as I report that he is not alone in these skills. Jeremy’s hands are cleverer than any man’s has a right to be, Royce shows no hesitation in revealing his desires, and Gabriel? Gabriel is quite extraordinary.

My experiences have not been far reaching, but even I can tell when a man might not be interested in women. I thought at first this could be the case with Gabriel. He is far too beautiful for his gender, and seems warmly affectionate to the others, who return those sentiments quite naturally.

But apparently, since he has become familiar with my body during my recovery, he is expressing a deal more than friendly interest in my womanly self. I find it marvellous, amazing…it is as if I am discovering myself through his eyes. He’s not shy about admitting to his virginity. He’s never had a woman, and isn’t ashamed to tell me so. But his gaze, when he bathes me, his fascination with my body…and the evidence such sights have on his own responses…all very gratifying. Should he decide to cast aside his innocence with me, I have no doubt I will be thoroughly satisfied by the event. Gabriel appears to be well-equipped to bring a woman pleasure.

As do they all.

And therein lies a problem I find to be more and more difficult to solve. Which man should I consider as a bedmate? Will the others be jealous if I choose just one? How could I manage were I to want two?

And when did these wanton thoughts appear in my mind, to not only plague me when I wake alone at night, but also to arouse and intrigue me? I have never been unduly interested in the physical side of love. My first time was magical, but now I have to be honest and admit there was some discomfort. Only the fact that Michael was the one to take my virginity made it tenable. I loved him so very much that anything we did together was wonderful. He was the magic rather than the deed itself.

If matters had turned out differently, would it have become an act I