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

disposed themselves on the end of the bed, the two small chairs near the desk and on the carpet next to the dog.

Royce raised his head from his hands and looked at them. And surrendered. “All right. Yes. I spent the night with Gwyneth. I broke the rules of Wolfbridge. And…” he paused.

“And what, Royce?” Gabriel encouraged him. “And what?”

“And I don’t regret a minute of it.” Royce lifted his chin and stared at the assembled company, daring them to upbraid him for his misconduct.

“Good for you.”

“That’s more like it.”

“About time, too.”

“I’m amazed you waited this long.”

The words came like bullets, sharp and crisp, penetrating Royce’s brain, but making such a mess of it that he had to close his eyes for a few moments to get them to make sense.

“Wait.” He held up his hand. “Just wait a minute…”

Darcy’s snores could be clearly heard in the silence that followed his words.

“You mean you think it’s acceptable that I slept with Gwyneth?” Royce finally regained some kind of language ability. “Even though I’m supposed to be her Giles?”

Jeremy sighed. “It’s like this, Royce. Giles was Giles. He was here for years, he was in love with another woman, and he was never tempted. Or so he says.”

“I’ve always thought that he must have been tempted a time or two,” agreed Evan. “But knowing that Ione was waiting helped keep him away from the current Lady.”

“That’s quite possible,” nodded Gabriel. “Besides, Giles was the model butler, a perfect leader, and irreproachable. A source of knowledge, a man of action and the heart of Wolfbridge for many years, as you’ve pointed out. Several Ladies came and went during his tenure. No man of his nature would dally with them.”

“But I would?” Royce frowned.

“No.” Harry spoke quietly. “No, Royce, you’ve not dallied with Gwyneth. You’ve simply joined the rest of us. You love her. Every bit as much as we do.”

He looked around, the earnest faces staring at him with understanding, sympathy and a definite measure of amusement.

Closing his eyes, he nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do. She is…well, I suppose she’s grown on me. On us. More on you than me, but now me too.”

Gabriel shook his head. “For an intelligent man, that was a rather convoluted statement. What worries me more is that I completely understood it.”

“So did I.” Jeremy added.

“Yes. You’re quite right.” Evan smiled.

“Well, dear fellow, I believe you’re as doomed as the rest of us. Welcome to the world of normal men.” Harry’s wry grin expressed his delight in this situation.

“I’m going to have a hard time living this down, aren’t I?”

Jeremy nodded enthusiastically. “Of course not. We’ll never mention it, would we?”

The others, taking their cue from their friend, all nodded the same way and said “No” at the same time.

If Royce had had his pistol, he might well have shot them all at that moment, but all he could do was sigh. “All right. Best get it out of your system now.”

A snicker, a chuckle, a snort—and everyone burst out laughing.

Which, mused Royce as he leaned back and watching four grown men convulsed by a situation he had created, wasn’t really the worst way to start the day. He’d indeed joined their club. The gentlemen who loved their Lady.

And now he had to wonder…when would he be able to love her again?

*~~*~~*

Within a week of the new year, the school project was well underway.

Each day, one or other of her gentlemen took himself off to assist, since they’d all agreed that someone from Wolfbridge should be there, working alongside the tenants. It was good for the men to do something out of their regular activities, and good for the farmers and carpenters and builders working so hard on it to see a Wolfbridge resident hammering next to them. Even better when they could teach that man how to do something new.

Gwyneth hoped that a bond between them would develop and strengthen, since a cheerful and respectful working relationship was, in her opinion, the key to a profitable estate.

Royce had agreed; in fact, he was the one most often stripped down to his shirt, sawing, swinging a hammer and lifting things along with the rest of the crew.

Royce. Gwyneth couldn’t keep from thinking about her time with him, and though she’d said nothing, nor asked any questions, she could clearly see that the others knew—and approved.

Finally, one night alone with Gabriel, she had mentioned the situation.

“It would seem you’re all aware that Royce has broken with tradition and shared my bed.”

Gabriel was lying next to her, his head on her bare stomach, grinning at her over her breasts. Every now and again he’d toy with one or the other, making her shiver with his featherlight caresses to her sensitive nipples.

“Of course we are. He’s one of us, my dear. He loves you every bit as much as we do.” He snuggled closer. “But tell me. Is he…is he as big as we think he might be?”

Gwyneth couldn’t help a laugh at Gabriel’s expression of fascinated curiosity. “I am certainly not engaging in any kind of comparison. So don’t expect me to answer that completely improper question, you devil.” She tapped him gently on the nose. “I will simply say that he’s as big as he needs to be. Just as you are, just as the others are. You all satisfy me so well…”

For some reason, the words caught in her throat and tears filled her eyes.

“Oh don’t cry, love.” Gabriel scrambled upward, sliding his arms around her, pressing his chest to hers and kissing her. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes. “You made me realise how happy I am, how loved I feel, and how well you all satisfy me. I love