The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2), Sahara Kelly [best thriller novels to read txt] 📗
- Author: Sahara Kelly
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“I’ll be on my way,” Trick said. “I have to go and start reassuring my wife that all’s well. And that we’ll be staying inside for a while. At least she will.”
“Good luck with that,” Jeremy grinned. “You might want to send a message to her mother right away, or you’ll have Mrs B beating down your door.”
“Point taken,” nodded Trick. “If you need anything…” he shot a stern glance at all of them.
“We know where you are.” Royce gave Trick a little mock salute. “Go home to your wife. We’ll let you know when Giles returns.”
The afternoon seemed quiet, with Evan in the kitchen, Jeremy and Gabriel playing chess in the Rose room, and Royce in his small study.
Gwyneth found herself unusually idle, not caring to read, and unsure enough of the weather to want to go for a walk. Besides, she doubted she’d be allowed out of the house at the moment, for fear some or all of the malevolent parties might decide to do something dreadful.
Her own worries weighed on her, exacerbated by those she’d listened to earlier, so she left the Rose room, reassuring Jeremy and Gabriel of her intentions to stay close, and went to find Royce.
“Hullo.” She peered around the door to his study, finding him with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up and a pile of papers in front of him. He squinted at them with a quiet terrible frown. “Am I disturbing you?”
“Yes,” he grunted, then pushed back from the desk. “And I’m glad of it, to be honest. What can I do for you, my Lady?”
She made a snap decision. “Take a few minutes and walk with me in the garden? The sun looks like it might come back out, although I know not for how long, and I’d like to breathe a little. Just around the lawn.”
He glanced outside, then nodded. “A good idea. I need to breathe too.”
She smiled as he stood. “We can tell Jeremy and Gabriel if we go out through the doors at the end of the hall. They’re playing chess in the Rose room.”
He grinned. “And Evan is cooking something magnificent. I can smell it from here.”
Taking her arm, Royce walked with her down the corridor leading outside. They popped in to let the two men at the chessboard know where they were and then sauntered out onto the terrace.
Gwyneth took a breath. “This could be lovely come summer,” she looked around. “The grass is greening up nicely. Now we need some flowers.”
Royce followed her gaze. “Yes, I think you’re right. But I’m not the man to ask, since my knowledge of flowers extends only to those provided to ladies after a pleasant evening.”
She laughed, knowing he intended his jest to have that result. “Very well. I won’t ask you about putting in some rhododendrons or azaleas.”
“Whew.” He wiped his brow, dramatically.
They strolled out onto the grass, and Gwyneth took that deep breath she’d been promising herself. An idea had lurked in the back of her mind since she’d received that fateful letter. This might well be the time to explore it.
“Royce, may I speak to you in confidence?”
He turned his head, and looked at her, puzzlement written large across his handsome face. “Of course, my Lady. You never need to ask that of me.”
“I meant no insult. But I am still not sure of the rules—if there are any—pertaining to you and the others and me…” she huffed a little laugh. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, my Lady,” he smiled.
“Firstly, please…it is Gwyneth, when we’re alone? I find I’m tiring of always being my Lady. We are all becoming much too close to each other for that formality.”
“Very well. Gwyneth.” He squeezed her arm against his ribs. “But only when Giles isn’t within earshot.”
“Agreed.”
Their steps took them to the edge of the lawns and they turned, circling down the margin of the grass, beneath the greening oak trees.
“I need to ask your opinion about something.” She kept her eyes focused on their path.
“Ask away.”
“To do so, I must share a confidence that is intensely private. Not even Giles knows this. At least I don’t believe he does…”
“Are you sure you wish to share it?”
She nodded definitively. “Yes. Completely.”
“I’m honoured, Gwyneth. You have all my attention.”
“I received a blackmail letter a couple of days ago.”
“What?” Royce almost skidded to a stop and turned to stare at her. “Did you tell Giles?”
“Yes, I did,” she answered. “He needed to know. He has it all.” She shrugged. “I have to assume that this incident was also part and parcel of his decision to go to London. How it might be linked, I’m not sure. I’ll leave that to his wiser mind.”
“All right.” Royce sounded concerned. “I am most distressed to hear this, but since Giles already knows, how can I help?”
“Giles knows of the letter, but not of the reason. He did not ask and I did not tell him.”
“I see.”
“I do need to tell someone. Just in case.” Her steps slowed. “And for some reason, I believe you are best positioned to be my confidante.”
“You do me a great honour, Gwyneth,” he said again.
“I suspect you to be less…emotional, shall we say, than the others. The episode in my past happened when I was only seventeen. I can speak of it now with a minimum of pain, but it would be easier to reveal it to someone who can listen objectively. I know you better than to presume you would judge me, but I don’t need comforting either.”
“So no cuddling then?” He raised his eyebrows and grinned.
She shook her head and laughed. “I have nothing against
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