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

as he looked at her. “It is all about your pleasure, my dear. There are no right ways or wrong ways. You are our Lady. All your gentlemen are pledged to serve you in whatever manner you may require.”

She thought about it. “Well. That certainly makes it easier…”

“We try,” he said with a smile. “Sometimes, if I notice something in your behaviour that might lead me to think you needed a certain kind of attention, I might recommend one of your gentlemen see to your needs. If you do not feel that is appropriate, then all you need to do is dismiss him.”

“I shall take all these suggestions under advisement, Giles. Thank you.” She heaved a breath of relief now that her main concerns were out of the way. “So you say I have a letter?”

He rose and went to his desk, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Yes, it’s here, Ma’am. There is no mark or indication of where it originated, no frank, nor signature. It puzzles me, since it is addressed to the Countess, not the Lady of Wolfbridge, which tells me it’s from a person who knows you, rather than the Manor…”

He passed it to her.

“I would deduce that it was hand-delivered somewhere and has found its way here.”

It was not thick, and she broke the seal with a measure of confusion. “I have no idea who could have sent it,” she muttered, removing and unfolding a single page. Without thinking she read it aloud…

To the Dowager Countess of Kilham,

 

I know your darkest secret, even though your husband didn’t. Lieutenant Copley is no longer hidden in your past. I am quite willing to ensure this Information goes no further, but I shall require various sureties from yourself to guarantee such a thing.

More instructions will follow.

Her voice tapered off and her eyebrows rose in horror. “My God, Giles. It’s about…he knows about me.”

He walked to her chair. “Easy now,” he put a hand on her shoulder. “May I see?”

She trembled, a weakness she abhorred, but the shock of seeing a name she thought she’d buried in her past was too great to contain. “Please. Take it. I-I can’t—I don’t…he’s…he’s learned about something…something I thought long-buried.” She stuttered a little in shock as she passed the envelope and the letter to Giles, a measure of relief stemming her shivers as it left her hand. “What does he want, Giles? Money? This is blackmail, without a doubt.”

“It is,” he answered, his voice calm—and cold. “And it will be handled as such. A crime perpetrated by the most vicious and unpleasant of criminals.”

“What should we do?”

“For now? There is little we can do. I shall make some quiet enquiries about it…” he gestured to the envelope, “and see if that leads us to anyone locally who might remember anything about its arrival.”

She nodded. “All right.”

“So if possible, set it aside for the moment?”

“I cannot promise,” she said. “Giles, what he knows about me…it is from a time long before I wed the Earl.”

He looked at her. “My Lady, what happened years ago is of no matter. It is who you are now that counts above everything. Should you wish to share your experiences, I am always here to listen. But nobody at Wolfbridge is here to judge. And everyone has secrets in their pasts—we either deal with them or lay them to rest. They have no place in the Manor, the estate or the life we build for ourselves here. They are part of the darkness we try to rise above; the places we leave behind as we find the light within us. Do you understand?”

She nodded, the tension in her heart easing. “Yes, Giles. Yes, I do.”

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

Gwyneth spent the rest of that day wandering around Wolfbridge. The weather turned, bringing showers at first and then a steadier rain in the afternoon. It was good for the crops but hard on the nerves, and she felt more than a little frustrated as she stared out past the raindrops on the window of the Rose room.

The grass was green, the leaves even greener, and the spring flowers hung heavily, weighted down by the moisture. Her heart hung heavily too, she realised. She had brought trouble with her to Wolfbridge.

Her mind roamed over the disastrous letter; who on earth could know of this matter, and who would want to threaten her—and Wolfbridge—with it? She had no idea, but it crushed her, saddened her to know that the life she was beginning to embrace was now at risk.

A tap on the door, and Jeremy poked his head in. “My Lady? Can I do anything for you?”

Obeying an instinct, she nodded. “Yes.”

He slipped in, closed the door and walked quickly to her side. “What is it? You’re troubled, I can see it in your eyes.”

She nodded. “Would you mind holding me for a little while?”

He said not a word but stepped behind her, opened his arms and pulled her close until her back lay snug against his chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged, firmly, warmly, and she felt a kiss on the top of her head.

Her body eased, relaxed into the security of his embrace as they both looked out the window.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

“Much,” she replied, turning her head a little and rubbing it against him. “Much better, Jeremy. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, dear Lady,” he murmured. “Holding you is a pleasure I’ve hoped for.” His hands rubbed up and down her arms, a gentle soothing that brought a sigh of delight to her lips. “You know we’re all here for you, and not just as your servants, but as your friends…” he paused, squeezing her close. “And more, if you’ll have us.”

“Like the pond,” she whispered.

“Even better than