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

of them around here, I will leave. I’ll not have this place jeopardised by something that happened to me years ago.”

“Nonsense.” Gwyneth stood. “Jeremy, I’m sad for you, and deeply saddened by what’s transpired. But we must go on, and you know that. So let’s all take some time and examine our own thoughts and feelings. To pause and appreciate what we have and to say a prayer for Susanna who has left us grieving.”

She glanced around, and then quietly quit the terrace.

“A good idea,” endorsed Royce, standing and stretching. He looked at Jeremy, Evan, and Gabriel. “Tonight we will all join our Lady. For comfort, for the warmth of our presence and for the ease that our hearts can give one another in troubled times like these.”

True to his word, Royce walked into Gwyneth’s bedchamber late that night, to find her tucked up in bed and staring at him in surprise.

“Royce?”

Her questioning tone was not unexpected, since he did not share her bed, leaving that to the others. But tonight was different. “Yes, Gwyneth,” he replied. “Tonight Wolfbridge shares grief and finds comfort. All of us.”

The others walked in, their robes tied loosely, and within moments they were nude, tucking themselves into Gwyneth’s bed. There was room—there was always room in the massive four-poster dominating the Lady of Wolfbridge’s bedchamber.

“Tonight we’re simply here…to be together,” said Gabriel in his gentlest voice. He clambered onto the lower edge of the bed, stretching out along the footboard.

Evan and Jeremy slid in either side of Gwyneth and she sighed as she settled into their embrace, turning to Jeremy and pulling him close. “Yes. We shall share what I hope will be pleasant dreams tonight.”

Royce removed his jacket and waistcoat and untucked his shirt, then circled the room extinguishing the candles. There was a long couch on one side of the room, and it would be a lot more comfortable than many of the places he’d slept. So he settled down as the others relaxed.

Soon the sounds of sleep filled the air.

Royce closed his eyes, praying that the sadness they all shared would lift and diminish quickly. For surely there would be more challenges on the way…

On that less than uplifting thought he turned to one side and moved to accommodate little Darcy, who seemed to prefer himself to the others. Even that tiny bit of fluffy warmth was welcome, and as thunder grumbled across the countryside, Royce’s eyes drifted closed and he succumbed to sleep.

*~~*~~*

The tragedy remained lingering in the late summer air, and it wasn’t until mid-September that Gwyneth woke without that sense of grief haunting her.

It had taken a few weeks since that revealing moment, but at last the household at Wolfbridge had recovered itself enough to laugh, and share jests, without suddenly feeling guilty.

Royce had pointed out that it was the natural process, that people needed time to come to terms with their sorrows, and to let go of the sense that they were betraying the dead by being alive. And by living.

Most of the nights following the funeral, one or the other of her gentlemen had joined Gwyneth in bed. But it had been a matter of seeking solace, rather than passion. Everyone shared their emotions freely in the quiet of her room, and she knew that Evan, although devastated for his friend Jeremy, was on the mend.

Gabriel also exhibited signs of recovery, snuggling against her with a smile instead of a sigh.

For Jeremy it was more difficult, of course, and Gwyneth had held him while he wept a time or two. But even he wasn’t immune to the beauty of Wolfbridge as the autumn began its subtle approach, and she found him often out of doors on the terrace, just breathing in the air.

Late roses let their scent drift on the breeze to mingle with the tang of early chrysanthemums, and for the first time Gwyneth walked outside with her wrap hugged around her.

Royce casually strolled through the French doors to stand beside her. “A fine morning, my Lady.”

“Isn’t it?” She turned her head toward him, smiling. “The summer is over. And it might be wrong of me to say so, but I’m not sorry to see it pass.”

He chuckled, a warm sound that pleased her.

“Royce, I have been thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well, many things, but mostly about Wolfbridge. We are maintaining it in good heart—or I should say you are managing it perfectly. For which you have my most sincere thanks, of course.”

“But?”

“But should we be thinking of adding to Wolfbridge? Improving it, perhaps? Expanding…” she waved her hands. “I don’t know. I just feel I should be making a contribution to the continuing good health of the estate.”

“Certainly a good notion, my Lady.” He tilted his head toward her in agreement. “What are your thoughts? An extension to the terrace? A summer house, perhaps? Now would be an appropriate time to build it…”

“I want to buy Fivetrees.”

Royce blinked, and she hid a smile at his evident surprise. Fivetrees, their neighbouring property, was much larger than Wolfbridge, as was the stately home settled on the estate.

“Uh…”

“Think about it,” she said, turning around and leaning against the concrete edging so that she could see his face. “The acreage is substantial, which would be a great thing for our tenants. They could expand their holdings, and improve their income considerably, which would also benefit us, of course.”

“True.” His tone was agreeable.

Knowing he had yet to be convinced, Gwyneth continued. “As far as the house is concerned, there are a variety of options we could explore. Tenants, of course. Although I dislike the notion of a Society family taking up residence so close to us. I like our privacy.”

“As do I. As to all of us, actually.”

“Well, what if we consider using it