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don’t want to take anyone off that list at the moment,” answered Royce. “There’s Baxter Fairhurst to consider. And Gylbart, although I’d probably rank him very low. We’ve not seen the man, and other than his association with Fairhurst and Randschen, there’s nothing to indicate he’s involved in the shooting…”

“I would agree,” said Evan. “The facts of the shooting itself would lead me to suppose it was someone who had a familiarity with the surroundings. He was in the perfect place to hit anyone near the ballroom windows.”

“So someone at the fête?” She glanced at him.

He shrugged…then winced. “Ow. I forgot.” He shook his head. “This is all conjecture, I’m afraid.”

Giles sighed. “We found nothing in the wood. The ground was trampled, but that’s not uncommon, and there were no boot prints or hoof prints with a cracked horseshoe or anything so beloved of those who write mysteries. In addition, the rain had soaked everything thoroughly.”

“It would have been too much to hope for,” complained Jeremy. “No, our man is a bit too clever for that sort of clue. But he also doesn’t know who he’s dealing with if he thinks he can shoot one of us and get away with it.”

Evan yawned. “I agree. We must discover who it was and then take him back into the woods. Where we all can explain to him the error of his ways.”

“Then turn over the remains to the authorities?” grinned Gabriel.

Jeremy grinned. “If there’s enough left.” He paused. “I have to say though, that if all this is a plot to upset the apple cart here at Wolfbridge, then whoever is behind it doesn’t know any of us very well. Especially Giles.”

Gwyneth nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. Giles is pretty much unflappable.”

“Exactly.” Evan rubbed his arm. “And I’m thinking it’s time for me to head upstairs. The brandy is relaxing me and my shoulder’s itching.”

“Come on then.” Gabriel was at his side in an instant.

Gwyneth rose. “I’ll help. It’s been a lengthy day.”

“Agreed.” Jeremy and Giles nodded, as Royce tossed back the last of his brandy.

Gwyneth watched as Gabriel gently helped Evan to his feet, and took his weight as the liquor relaxed muscles that had been tense for too long.

Bidding the others goodnight, the three of them carefully ascended the stairs, and managed to get Evan safely tucked into his own bed. Gabriel replaced the dressings with calm and practised moves, pronouncing himself pleased with the healing process, and grinning at the slight snore that greeted his comments.

“I think he’s set for the night,” he said to Gwyneth as she finished straightening the quilt over Evan.

“I think so too,” she sighed, coming to Gabriel’s side and putting her arms around him. “You are a wonderful nurse, Gabriel.”

He hugged her back. “I cannot stand to see anyone suffering,” he admitted.

Daringly she stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. “Walk me to my room, please?”

He looked down at her, his green eyes alight, his soft blonde hair a halo in the low light of the single candle. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that. Especially tonight.”

He blew out that last candle and they left together, quietly making their way to Gwyneth’s chambers. The floor was silent, the others having retired for the night as well.

“Gabriel,” she began, leaning against him. “I want…I’d like…”

“What, love?” He cupped her cheek. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” she whispered. “But I’ll understand if you say no…”

“You want me,” he echoed. “You really want me?”

She nodded. “Yes. All of you. Really. Do you understand, Gabriel?” She took a breath. “Not just your lips or your tongue or your talented hands…I want all of you.”

His eyes widened.

“Inside me.” She added the two words, just to make sure there was no mistaking in her request. “But if you don’t…I mean if it’s not something you’d…”

He put his fingers on her lips. “Hush. Just hush.”

He replaced his fingers with his mouth, kissing her softly and gently, and so lovingly she felt as if she could cry with the simple beauty of it.

This was exactly what she wanted—and needed. Trouble surrounded them, their lives were at risk, and the tensions rose every minute so many of their questions went unanswered.

She needed something that would distract her, and remind her that life could be gentle, kind and wonderful.

Gabriel was the perfect solution.

“Oh yes,” she breathed as he lifted his face from hers. “Oh yes…”

*~~*~~*

Journal of Gwyneth, Dowager Countess, Lady of Wolfbridge - June 1818

 

I’m not sure where to begin - so much has happened since my last entry.

Evan, the sweetest, most delightful man, has been shot. I never imagined myself writing those words, or re-experiencing the anguish of the moments when he fell against me, his blood flowing from his wound.

It was chaos, of course. We managed to avoid panic, and everyone held together so very well…although I’ll confess to falling apart once the worst of the danger was over. Royce and Gabriel took good care of him and Jeremy and Giles have since made sure that I’m accompanied by one of my gentlemen no matter where I go. They believe that I was the target. Which means Evan took the bullet meant for me.

That knowledge has struck deep in my heart. So deep that it is painful to explore at the moment. I am hiding from it until such time as I feel I can examine it without slipping into a serious megrim.

It is encouraging to see Evan recovering, however. His smile lights up all our lives, and his kisses have burned a special place within me. The thought of losing him - is untenable.

It was a stressful week for all of us; the villagers and tenants have been wonderful, and I learned more about what

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