The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2)

by Sahara Kelly

  “All right.” Giles rose. “Let’s settle him as best we can. Bathe and clean him, if he wakes we’ll deal with him then, and if not, let him sleep.”

  “Sleep is actually the body’s way of healing, so it’s a good thing. He’s going to hurt like the very devil when he does wake, though.” Royce’s lips twisted. “If you have any laudanum, a little might take the edge off the worst of it for now.”

  “I’ll see what I can find. And in the meantime, I must catch up with the business on my desk.” Giles squared his shoulders and walked to the door. “Evan, if we could dine at seven, would that give you enough time to prepare whatever is necessary, not just for us but for our patient, in case he wakes?”

  “Of course,” nodded Evan. “I’ll set some broth going. He’ll probably not want much more at the moment.” He shot a quick look at Royce.

  “Good idea,” came the response. “I agree completely.”

  Hoping that this was a harbinger of the relationship he hoped to see build between the men, Giles walked to the door and left them to it.

  Would they get on? Would they kill each other? How would Royce adapt to Wolfbridge?

  All valid questions, none of which had any ready answers. Only time would tell in this situation, and Giles admitted to himself he was tired, and ready to let those matters take their course.

  There were others requiring his attention.

  His study was as neat as always, and the correspondence that had arrived during his absence sat in a handy stack by the blotter.

  Trust Jeremy to make sure all was prepared for his return. A taper to the logs in the fireplace and the room began to fill with warmth. The taper travelled on to the candles and Giles sighed with contentment as he took his chair and drew the first of the letters from the pile.

  Most were easily dealt with; a few enquiries about spring stock, some bills for the work on the kitchen garden that had been completed—although there was more to do—and some papers referencing the matter of the Fairhursts and Fivetrees.

  He’d not had time to ask how Trick and Jane were managing over there, but he knew if there’d been any major problems he’d have been told about it. There were two letters remaining, and Giles knew from the writing that they would be important.

  Taking the first one, which showed signs of much wear, he slit the ornate seal and opened it carefully, his heart quickening as he glanced at the signature.

  The news it contained made him drop the paper to the table, lean back and close his eyes.

  For a few minutes, he sat, motionless, waiting for his brain to calm, to settle, to push away matters he could not yet handle.

  As it did so, he found the strength to reach into his waistcoat pocket for a small key. It unlocked one of his desk drawers and inside he pressed a piece of wood that revealed a hidden compartment. Smoothing out the paper, he carefully added it to the others, replaced the cover and closed and locked the drawer.

  Then he rose and poured a small brandy, bringing it back to the desk and looking at the final letter. This one was important, vital now, since he needed to be about the business of locating the next Lady of Wolfbridge.

  The network of correspondents he had set in place over the years was nothing if not productive, and he knew this note had come from one of his most reliable sources.

  He unfolded it with a measure of apprehension, noting the word URGENT in bold letters across the top.

  “Dear Sir,

  In reference to the subject at hand, you should be informed that the lady has not appeared at her home in the last three months. Enquiries pertaining to this matter have finally produced a result; she is presently in residence at the Dower House.

  Unfortunately, I have learned that this location is far from secure, being a neglected building in a desolate and wild part of the estate. There is one known occupant, a woman of unpleasant reputation. Thus, there is concern as to the welfare of the lady in question. It is recommended that you consider a visit at this time, or in the near future if it is possible, to verify her condition. The winter has been of long duration and featured many days of freezing temperatures. Few, if any, sightings of smoke have been observed.

  As a final note, it has been made clear to all and sundry that access to the Dower House is strictly forbidden. The villagers have been warned, and occasionally threatened by the gamekeepers. Those who have brought supplies must leave them with those same gamekeepers who are presumed to be the only outside contact for the two women inside.

  It is not a comfortable situation, sir. We urge you to make haste, lest the subject of your interest fail to survive the rest of the winter.

  Sincerely yrs…”

  Giles closed his eyes on a frown and rubbed his hands over his face in anger. How dare they treat her this way? And what terrible timing. He had Gabriel unconscious upstairs and now this…

  He finished his brandy and stood, glancing at the clock which told him there was a scant half hour before Evan would have dinner on the table.

  He needed a good meal under his belt, and it was time to present his problem to the men. It might reveal how they would go on without him, and at least he would have their input as to what to do next.

  He knew, deep inside, that he would have to leave. Again. But he wanted to hear them say it, to endorse his course of action—and to prepare themselves for a new Lady of Wolfbridge.

  Chapter Six

  The dining room gleamed, a familiar and comfortable place that could seat six people or thirty with ease.

  At this moment it was redolent with the fragrance rising from a roast of beef, still sizzling, and ready to be consumed by the four hungry men seated around the table.

  “That looks…” Royce stared at it, and the assortment of vegetables Evan had prepared to go with it. “Magnificent.”

  “Thank you,” grinned Evan. “I know you’re hungry, and Jeremy and I can always use a good evening meal.”

  Giles carved and everyone helped themselves. There was little formality when it was just the gentlemen, and the sooner Royce understood that, the better.

  “We’re fortunate in that the kitchen is only a few steps away,” he said, passing a dish of beans. “So Evan’s creations are always hot.”

  “It’s appreciated,” nodded Royce. “Thank you.”

  Pleased, Giles attacked his meal, suddenly aware that he was ravenous. And as always, Evan’s food was beyond delicious, especially this evening when he had presented a feast that would appeal to each and every gentleman present.

  Plain, tasty and simple, it was satisfying, and the dishes emptied rapidly.

  Conversation was kept to a minimum until the platters were almost bare. “Evan, you always surprise me,” grinned Jeremy, patting his stomach.

  “How so?” Evan wiped a small spot of gravy from his chin with his napkin.

  “You always get it right, my friend.”

  “I try,” smiled Evan. “You never see the failures.”

  “They probably taste good too,” said Royce. “You could out-cook most of London, Evan. Without question.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it, Royce,” answered Evan. “It is your first real meal here, and as such I wanted it to meet with your approval.”

  Royce leaned back. “I’m honoured. But from what Giles here tells me, it should meet with everyone’s approval, not just mine.”

  “That’s true,” interjected Jeremy. “And from now on, that will be the case. But since you’ve just arrived, we do our best to make you welcome.”

  “Appreciated.” Royce acknowledged Jeremy’s words. “So now we can proceed?” He shot a look at Giles.

  “Indeed. It is time.” Giles pushed aside his plate and leaned his hands on the table. “There is much to discuss.”

  Evan slid his chair back. “How about we clear and then meet for brandy?”

  “An excellent notion.” Giles stood. “Royce, you are excused from such duties in honour of your first night.”

  “Thanks,” he replied
, “I will do my fair share from now on, though. I’ve plenty of experience with dishes.”

  “Really?” Evan, his arms loaded with china and cutlery, raised his eyebrows.

  “When you’re a soldier, you do as you’re told.”

  “Ah,” Evan nodded. “Understood.”

  “I’ll pop upstairs and check on Gabriel then…” Royce stood. “And brandy in the…what was it…Rose room?”

  “Yes. Off the hall.” Giles watched his face.

  “I’ll find it.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  All things considered it had gone as well as could be expected, Giles thought to himself as he stoked up the fire in the Rose room. Introducing a strong personality like Royce might have been difficult, and in fact he’d been expecting more challenges.

  But then again, Royce had been a soldier. And that sort of experience teaches many things, including how to get on with your fellow man. It would seem a lesson well-learned, and if matters continued this way, one worry would be lifted off Giles’s shoulders.

  He left the growing blaze and walked slowly back to his study, wondering how best to present the news he’d received about the future Lady of Wolfbridge. It was customary to give the gentlemen a brief summation of her history, in order that they might be able to welcome her in a manner that would show her their intentions and their respect for her new title.

  Adjusting was never easy, but the ones Giles had known all accomplished it within a short time. Adalyn had been amazing in that regard—her joy in her gentlemen had all but exploded shortly after her arrival. She had needed their attentions like a flower needed the sun.

  If only this new one would bloom as well.

  He returned with the letter in his pocket and put a couple of logs on the fire. They’d all benefit from a glass of brandy, so he poured those as well, passing one to Jeremy who came to his side.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Evan is just finishing up the worst of it. The rest he’ll do either later or in the morning.”

  Giles sat. “Thoughts on Royce, Jeremy?”

  The other man sat across from him and sipped the brandy. “Keeps his opinions to himself. Probably very disciplined. I hope he’s fair, but I don’t expect gentleness from him.”

  “Agreed.”

  “He has medical skills? Was he a doctor?”

  “I don’t believe so, but yes, he’s seen enough in battle to qualify as one, if the need arises.”

  “As it did with Gabriel…”

  “Yes.”

  The man himself walked in, followed moments later by Evan. “Our patient is still sleeping but seems more comfortable. I’d hope he’d sleep through the night, but I can’t guarantee it…”

  “In that case, let’s talk now, while we can.” Giles pulled out the letter and rested it on his knee. “Our newest Lady of Wolfbridge must be our first topic of discussion. I’ve reviewed the candidates, and only one is in dire need of a place to live.”

  “She shall have it,” Jeremy raised his chin.

  “We have to get her here first,” responded Giles. “She was living at a place called Kilham Abbey.”

  “Was?”

  “Was,” echoed Giles. “As the Countess of Kilham, she spent six or so years there, her husband more than a decade older than herself, but from what I heard it was a pleasant marriage, although with no issue.”

  “The search for the heir, I presume?” Royce’s tone was dry.

  “It could have been, I suppose. But there already was an heir. From the Earl’s first marriage. Mother passed away directly after the babe was born.”

  “A son?” asked Evan.

  “Yes, a son. And rumour held him to be spoiled, catered to, and rather jealous of everyone who received more attention than he did.”

  “Spoiled brats often become spoiled adults,” Royce observed cryptically.

  “I’m afraid so,” nodded Giles. “In this case, his dislike of his step-mama grew proportionately to his age, and when he reached his maturity he left.”

  “Good thing, by the sound of it.” Jeremy watched Giles. “But I have to guess there is more to it…”

  “Indeed,” sighed Giles. “The young man returned upon his father’s death. His step-mama, now aged about twenty-seven or eight, give or take, was immediately shown the door of Kilham Abbey. The new Earl pushed her out into the Dower House.”

  “Well, that seems right. That’s what a Dower House is for, after all. Especially if he was planning on marrying soon…” Evan commented, looking a bit puzzled.

  “It turns out, Evan, that this particular Dower House is only standing because it refuses to fall down. It has not been maintained, leaks, is probably infested with rodents, and only has one housekeeper there. And her residency is solely because she was mistress to the old Earl. Not a woman you’d care to spend time with, I’m told.”

  “Dear Lord,” said Jeremy, aghast. “That sounds terrible. And through the winter? They must have had firewood and food…”

  “I hope so.” Giles shook his head. “I knew she’d moved. I did not know the state of the Dower House until recently. And in my post was a letter suggesting if I wanted to meet the lady I should do so soon, just in case.”

  “That sounds bloody ominous,” said Royce. “Do you trust the word of your correspondent?”

  Typical that he would ask, Giles thought, pleased at the question. “Yes, I do. There is trouble at Kilham, without doubt. However, we have concerns here, too. You have just joined us. You are taking over the job of estate manager, and I’ve not even shown you where everything is.” Giles rose and began to pace. “Then there’s our guest upstairs. Will he heal? What shall we do with him? All these things need attention before we can offer our new Lady a home worthy of her. And all these things take time. Time we may not have.”

  As if in answer to Giles’s comments, there was a large thump from above, and each of the four assembled in the parlour jumped.

  Tumbling from the door and running upstairs, they all dashed into the room to find Gabriel flat on his face on the floor.

  Giles winced for him as three strong pairs of hands helped him up, and he cried out as the movements brought pain with them.

  “Easy now, Gabriel.” Giles moved to his side as they got him back into bed.

  “Who are you? Where am I?” His eyes were wide and terrified.

  “You are safe. I am Giles and we are all taking care of you.” He touched the lad’s shoulder. “You are safe, Gabriel. Nobody will hurt you here. You have my word.”

  Some of the tension left him, and Royce came to stand next to Giles, a glass in his hand. “You took a bad beating, Gabriel. But we’re helping you.” He sat carefully, making sure not to jostle Gabriel’s body. “I believe you may have a cracked rib, and I expect to see a lot of bruises over the next few days. But other than that, my belief is that you will heal completely.”

  “Where am I?” he asked again.

  “Wolfbridge, Gabriel. You’re at Wolfbridge Manor.” Giles watched his face soften.

  “Here, drink this. It will help the pain.” Royce slipped a hand behind the pillow and raised the glass.

  “We’re going to take care of you, Gabriel.” Evan spoke from the bottom of the bed. “I’m Evan and you will have my finest broth to help you get your strength back.”

  “And I’m Jeremy. I’ll make sure you have whatever you need, and I’ll show you around once you’re well and on your feet again.”

  Brilliant green eyes reflected the flickering candlelight as Gabriel drank and watched the men speaking to him. “You won’t hurt me?”

  “Nobody hurts anyone in this house, Gabriel.”

  “Even if I’m not…not right?”

  “Nobody ever hurts anyone for any reason.” Giles emphasised his words as the laudanum began to take effect.

  “Evan, Jeremy…” Gabriel sighed and looked at Giles and Royce. “Wolfbridge. At last.”

  His lids fell, fluttered and then stayed closed as he slept.


  *~~*~~*

  “Four days. That’s all I need. Two to get there and two to get back.” Giles pushed clothing into his bag again. He’d done a lot of this recently.

  Jeremy looked worried. “You have to sleep.”

  “And I will. In the carriage. I won’t stop at an inn except to change the team. Time is of the essence, Jeremy. Now Gabriel is awake, I am relying on you to deal with matters here. You, Evan and Royce. I am putting my faith in you all.”

  “We won’t disappoint you, Giles. You know that.”

  He looked at the other man. “Royce might take some getting used to.”

  Jeremy snorted. “He’ll settle in. I have a feeling he’s the kind who can bivouac in a field or a mansion and never turn a hair.”

  “He is. So tread carefully, if you please?”

  “Of course.” He passed Giles his hairbrush. “What about Gabriel?”

  “Tell him all he needs to know, but no more. I would that you not disclose the whys and wherefores of Wolfbridge until I have made a decision about him.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “But…” Giles paused and shot a sharp glance at Jeremy. “If he starts talking about Wolfbridge, note every word. I want to know why he has our insignia on a very old locket and why he said what he did when we told him where he was.”

  “We’d all like to know that, so rest assured if he says anything, you’ll hear about it upon your return.”

  “Also, prepare the Lady’s room. I have no idea what shape she’s in, but a fire, clean nightclothes…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “And I’m worried, to be honest. If I’d known…” He frowned. “Come to think of it, can you get me one of the Lady’s robes? I have no idea of her size, but I’ll wager she could use a change of garments. Dammit.” He cursed again. “She shouldn’t be where she is. I should have known…”

  “You didn’t, Giles. You couldn’t. You are going now. Set the past aside and focus on what must be done.”

  “You’re right.” He sighed. “The coachmen from here to Kilham will doubtless hate me.”

  “You may be right about that, too,” grinned Jeremy. “But they’ll love the coins.”