The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2), Sahara Kelly [best thriller novels to read txt] 📗

“He’s really a good man, you know.” Gabriel took her arm, twined it through his and put his hand over hers where it rested on his shirt sleeve.

“I know. I just want to poke a hole in his pomposity sometimes. He’s a bit smug.”

“He’s been through a lot.”

She nodded and let him lead her outside into the sunshine. “Yes, yes he has. Something we can all sympathise with, I suppose.”

They stood and looked around, seeing the green lawns, the tall rhododendron bushes, the willow in the distance by the small stream.

“We do need some flowers, Gabriel.”

“Yes we do.” He glanced up. “And you need a bonnet, Gwyneth. Wait here and I’ll fetch yours.” He hurried back inside.

Lured by the sun, and ignoring the threat to her complexion, she strolled over the lawn, wondering if it would be possible to put a flower bed around the magnificent shrubs. She could see the brilliant colours of spring bulbs blooming at their base, leading up to the explosion of whites, pinks, and magentas when the flowers came into bloom. There would be sun on one side for the more robust plants, yet plenty of shade for the tender ones who shied away from the heat.

She rounded the massive mound of lush green, strolling down the side away from the house, and then facing them. Yes, there was room to dig…probably a couple of feet at least…

Arms came around her and she jumped. “Goodness, that was quick…”

The arms tightened and a hand crept up, covering her mouth.

“Hullo Lady Whore. Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did you now?”

The man holding her adjusted his position and she became aware of a sharp something digging in to her side. She wanted to gasp, but he shook her. “I’ve a knife next to your heart, dear Countess. Move, scream, struggle…it’ll slide in like you were butter.”

She trembled, but managed a nod.

She had recognised the voice.

He moved his hand from her mouth and she took a breath, fighting for control of her fears. Slowly she turned her head.

“I always knew you were a loathsome pig, Ernest. You’ve just demonstrated how accurate I was in my assumption.” She glared furiously into the face of the Earl of Kilham.

Then opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs, ignoring the angry and violent gaze of the man holding the knife to her side.

And ignoring the savage pain as he thrust it into her body.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The sound of Gwyneth’s scream echoed through Wolfbridge Manor, thanks to all the windows Jeremy had opened just moments before.

Feet pounded, and within seconds Jeremy and Gabriel ran out onto the grass, closely followed by Evan, Royce and Giles.

“Where is she?”

“I left her here…” Gabriel looked helplessly around. “I went to fetch her bonnet…”

“Shit,” cursed Royce. “Someone has her.”

Giles shushed them. “Quiet.”

His order was instantly obeyed and silence fell, broken only by birdsong. And a slight moan…

Giles glanced at Royce and pointed to the rhododendrons.

Royce nodded and motioned to Jeremy and Gabriel to go as far as they could down the bank of shrubs. Then he pointed at Giles and Gabriel, waving his hand in the other direction.

They understood and began to circle the bushes.

Slowly, and as silently as possible, Giles let Royce lead them across the grass, pausing at his command, letting him look around the leaves with each step.

Finally, he held up his hand sharply, turned and put a finger to his mouth.

They nodded as he beckoned Giles.

“You should do this,” whispered Royce.

Agreeing, Giles walked around, back straight, eyes glued to the pair lurking almost inside the rhododendron. “Gwyneth. Are you all right?”

She was white, so very pale, her face reminding him of when he’d first set eyes on her. All she could do was shake her head a little, her eyes wide with fear.

Since the man behind her held a bloody knife to her throat, Giles wasn’t surprised. What did send a river of horror through him was the blood stain he could see on her side.

“Who are you?” he asked the man. “Why are you hurting the Lady of Wolfbridge?”

“Go ahead, bitch. Introduce us.” He tightened his arm around her.

“Ernest,” she murmured, her voice faint, “this is Giles, the Wolfbridge butler. Giles, this is the Earl of Kilham, my stepson Ernest.”

“Really.” Giles managed to look surprised. “Welcome to Wolfbridge, my Lord. You could have visited in the usual fashion, you know. A knife is hardly necessary, nor is it becoming for an Earl to behave thus.”

“No other way,” the man replied. “I’ve come to collect what is mine. This…this whore stole everything from me.”

Gwyneth frowned and shook her head, gasping at the move as the knife bit into her skin and a trickle of blood ran down her neck.

“Yes you did,” said the Earl. “You know you did. You were supposed to die, to vanish, to starve to death and you deserved no better.”

“Forgive me, my Lord, but did you not inherit the entire estate when your father passed away? At least that is my understanding. Lady Gwyneth was not even left a stipend.”

Kilham’s lip curled derisively. “That’s what we all thought. But she…” he tightened his arm around her making her catch her breath, “…she knew the truth.”

“What truth is that, my Lord?” Giles kept his voice even and his words courteous. Nothing to be gained by making the man madder than he already was.

“That my idiot father made a second will.”

“What?” Gwyneth’s astonishment was plain, but Kilham would have none of it.

“You knew. Don’t try to lie. You made him do it. You made him leave control of everything to you. You bitch…”

Kilham