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

anything specific, but on the general appearance of the room. Then she crossed the carpet, pulled out the chair, dusted it off with her gloves and sat behind the desk.

“That chair is filthy, love,” Gabriel warned.

“I know. But sitting here gives me a feeling for how the room would work.” She thought for a moment. “So I have an important document in my hand.” She stood, pretending to hold papers.

“I would go this way…” a turn to her right, and she faced bookshelves. She took a step. Then another. And a third, which produced an odd creak.

“Hmm.” Harry’s gaze fell to the floor, as did Gwyneth’s. The rugs in the room were well-worn, betraying the thousands of times that feet had crushed their pile.

But they were large rugs, not entire carpets.

“Move aside a little, sweetheart.” Harry squinted at the floor. “I wish there was a window or two in here.” Grumbling, he knelt down and ran his fingers over the edges of the rugs near where Gwyneth stood.

“Is it possible…” Gabriel tiptoed to his side.

“Yes, I think so.” Harry raised the edge and forced it backward, making Gwyneth hop out of the way.

And there, in the floor, was an indentation holding a small ring.

“Oh God,” she breathed.

“Wait…don’t get too excited…” Harry reached out and hooked his finger in the ring, pulling it upward to reveal a narrow hole containing a tin box.

“Yes…” Gabriel’s shout echoed through the house as Harry retrieved it.

“Well it might be nothing—” he broke off as he stood and lifted his head. “I smell something.”

Gwyneth sniffed. And her eyes widened. “Smoke. I smell smoke.”

Harry kicked the secret compartment shut and pushed the rug back over it, tucking the box under his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Gabriel rushed to the door and opened it, only to be faced with clouds of thick smoke. “Jesus.” He coughed and backed up.

“Oh my God,” Gwyneth’s eyes watered. “We’re trapped.”

*~~*~~*

Jeremy and Evan found themselves wondering how the others were getting on at Fivetrees.

“Tea?” Evan stretched as he chopped the last of the carrots for the stew he was planning for dinner.

Jeremy, who had just popped his head around the door, nodded. “Lovely.” He came in and washed his hands. “Just finished a good dusting, so your timing is excellent.” He filched a couple of pieces of carrot from the bowl and crunched happily.

“Hey…that’s your dinner. Wait until then.”

Evan scolded as he put all the ingredients into a massive saucepan and stoked up the fire beneath the stove.

“Oh, stew. Perfect for a cold night. The others will be so pleased. Fivetrees is a cold and dismal place. The smell alone will lure them back post haste.”

Evan chuckled as he stirred his mixture, then nodded and put the lid on. “That’ll do for a couple of hours. I’ll season it later.” He pulled out the teapot and a couple of cups. “Just made this, so if you’ll get the milk…”

Jeremy hurried over to the pantry and came back with a small jug. “Here we are.”

Evan poured. “I wonder how things are going for them?”

“Me too.” He stirred his tea. “Have you ever wondered what we’d do if Wolfbridge is sold to someone else?”

Evan blinked. “Er, no. No I haven’t.” His face turned sombre. “I don’t even want to think about that, Jeremy.”

“Neither do I, but these are uncertain times. The whole business with Fivetrees, and now learning that originally we were all part of one estate. It’s…unsettling, I think. It’s shaken my confidence more than a little, I don’t mind saying.”

Evan looked out the window. “I cannot imagine being anywhere else. This has been our home for so long now. And I can’t imagine life without the Lady of Wolfbridge.”

“We have loved them all, haven’t we?”

“Well, not all of ‘em, but our fair share.”

Jeremy leaned back in his chair. “Do you ever wonder if you loved one more than the others?”

Evan looked at him. “I wonder how I can love every new lady that arrives, to be truthful.”

“And yet we do.”

“Yes, we do.” He sighed. “If it wasn’t me that did the cooking, I’d swear there was something in the food.”

Jeremy chuckled at that. “Not unsurprising. But perhaps we’re the kind of people who want to help and to heal. Each lady comes to us needing just those qualities…”

“True.”

They finished their tea in companionable silence, each busy with their own thoughts.

Jeremy finally stood. “I’ll wash the cups up, since you made the tea.”

A knock sounded at the front door, so Evan rose. “And I’ll answer that since you’re doing the dishes.”

Both men grinned as each took off for his chore.

Evan wondered if it might be more messages from London. He hoped so, since it would be comforting to have the whole business settled, and if anyone could do that, it would be either Royce or Giles. Or perhaps both.

So he opened the door expecting to see a messenger, or a lad from the village with some letters.

He did not expect to see a woman, plainly dressed, with her hands by her sides, staring at him. “Uh…good day to you, ma’am. May I help you?”

“I…” She stared past him and then looked around the front steps. “I…my horse…”

“Who is it, Evan?” Jeremy emerged from the kitchen and started toward the door.

At that point, two things happened.

Darcy, hearing a knock at the door, had rushed from his bed and emerged in the hall at exactly the same moment as Jeremy—which happened to be the same moment the woman at the door raised her arm, revealing the large pistol clutched in her hand. She pointed it at Jeremy

“Dear God.” Evan tried to grab her but he wasn’t close enough to catch her arm in time.