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Mortmain business certainly casts doubt on the ownership of Wolfbridge land. But it also casts doubt on Fivetrees as well, since Nicholas Markeley sold Fivetrees in his later years to somebody named Ffolkes. Apparently they didn’t do much with it and the Fairhursts were able to pick it up for a low price. They spruced it up and got it into shape and then the late unlamented Amery Fairhurst moved in. Which brings us pretty much up to date.”

“I still don’t understand. And I’ve got Jeremy’s headache.” Gwyneth chuckled as she touched her forehead.

“I have my book of legal terms here,” said Royce. “And I need a few moments to check on something. But what it looks like to me, is that Nicholas Markeley should never have been allowed to split the original Pinebridge Mere property into Fivetrees and Wolfbridge. Those sales were illegal, since the Mortmain order remained in effect at that time.”

“And you want to find out if it still remains in effect today?” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

Everybody took a few moments to digest that thought, and Royce bent over his book, turning pages, reading, and turning some more.

“I have a question.” Gwyneth tilted her head to one side. “Did Nicholas Markeley, the gambling son of the gambling papa, leave any heirs?”

Heads turned to her, as the implications sank in.

‘That, my sweet lady, is the biggest question of all.” Royce sighed. “And it remains unanswered at this point in time.”

“Damn,” muttered Harry. “That could turn everything into a terrible mess.”

“Well,” Royce lifted his head and closed the book. “I cannot find much about Mortmains when they last as long as this one has. I’m afraid that issue will have to go to wiser heads than mine. Giles assures me he is working on the matter, so I’ll trust him to let us know as soon as he learns anything of import.”

“If anyone can find out what we need to know, it’s him,” Jeremy endorsed the sentiment.

“The bad news…and I’m sorry, but there is some…” Royce squared his shoulders. “Is that we’re not the only ones who have discovered this situation.”

Gwyneth frowned. “Who on earth else could possibly be interested enough to dig around in two centuries worth of land titles?” She sucked in a gasp as the answer to her question popped directly into her mind. “Gylbart.”

Royce nodded. “Giles tells me that once he was informed his bid for Fivetrees had been refused, he apparently initiated inquiries as to the legal ownership of the land. I have no idea why, but he’s probably that sort of person. Someone who hates to be told no. It came as quite a surprise to Giles to learn that Gylbart and his legal associates have already presented a case on one of the court dockets as to the matter of reversing the Mortmain. That would, in effect, put both Wolfbridge and Fivetrees on very perilous ground.”

“And he wants them both…” Gwyneth gulped.

“He does. But Giles says that consideration of the case is likely to be refused. The consensus is that there are too many Mortmains out there, most of which are connected to religious holdings. Nobody wants to open up that particular Pandora’s Box. If that is so, then Gylbart is back where he started. But probably not happy about it.” Royce shrugged. “That’s it.”

“Thank God,” breathed Gabriel. “That is more than enough.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The days between Christmas and the new year flew by, as the Wolfbridge household negotiated their winter chores, kept eyes on the progress of their school and took care of routine business matters.

Gwyneth managed a few good walks when the weather held clear and enjoyed the company of one or another of her gentlemen. If the day’s kitchen chores were completed, then Evan would take half an hour to accompany her. If Jeremy had finished tidying, he’d be on her arm.

Sometimes Harry would emerge from his small study, stretch, and demand she walk with him lest his body stiffen into a permanently seated position.

She knew he worked hard on keeping the accounts accurate, and they would discuss the overall financial situation at Wolfbridge as they walked. Gwyneth very much appreciated these conversations, since she felt it indicated Harry’s confidence in her ability to grasp a variety of complex matters. Such trust was very edifying and something she’d not known in her past.

Walking with Gabriel was sheer and simple delight. He shared her pleasure in the outdoors, content to listen to birds rather than talk, and sometimes spying an early flower or a deer, grasping her arm and pointing, just enjoying everything around him, and making her happy too. They laughed at strange cloud formations, made up stories to entertain each other, and strolling with arms linked, bundled up against the cold, brought a special kind of companionship that was new to Gwyneth.

She came to understand how much more her gentlemen gave her than just physical pleasure. They were her strength, her confidence, her courage, and her compassion.

She might have had all of those at some time in her life, or at least one or two of them, but her tenure at Wolfbridge had changed her in so many ways. She now understood what those virtues really meant and loved her gentlemen even more for helping her come to this point.

Then there was Royce.

He would walk with her occasionally, simply finding her wherever she was in the Manor and announcing it was time to get some air.

She couldn’t deny that she eagerly looked forward to being alone with him, although they had slipped into a quiet pattern when together.

They would choose their route, often depending on the state of the lanes, and then stroll, arms linked, silent for minutes at a time.

Oddly enough, she was content to merely walk at his side, feeling his strength and his warmth emanating from

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