by Sahara Kelly
“We were going to have dancing,” sighed Gwyneth.
“And we still are,” Jeremy grinned. “The musicians are on their way and you’ll see that Mrs B is clearing away a goodly sized bit of lawn, but leaving the odd chair or two and some benches. Smart lady that she is, it’s on the far side to the ballroom. There’s also a wagon on the way with a few more from the village hall.”
“That woman is astounding,” agreed Trick. “We could have wiped out Napoleon years ago if she’d been in charge.” He glanced at Gwyneth. “Evan?”
“Doing very well,” she smiled, noting his relief. “Royce removed the bullet and he’s stitched up, bandaged and sleeping off what looked like a whole bottle of brandy.”
“I am so very glad,” said Trick. “A bad thing, my Lady. A very bad thing.”
“I know. So does Giles. We must get to the bottom of it, and soon.” She let her gaze wander over the front lawn. “Keep an eye open, if you would, Trick? And make sure Jane is safe? I don’t know who is behind it, but it is certainly connected to Wolfbridge, as are you and your wife.”
He nodded and gave her a little bow. “Yes. And we are here for you always, Lady Gwyneth. Please remember that.”
“I will. Now go and find your bride. I’m sure she can use another pair of strong arms.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered.
She and Jeremy laughed as he left.
“He loves that woman to the edge of madness,” said Jeremy, standing just behind Gwyneth.
She allowed herself the luxury of leaning back against him. “She’s lucky.”
His hand slipped around her waist and he held her close for a few moments. “We all love you, you know that, don’t you? We can’t help it. And if anything should happen to you…” His arm tightened, and his voice trembled a little.
“I know.” She touched his hand at her waist. “I love you all too. And it won’t. As long as we’re careful and sensible.”
“Ugh.” The lighthearted Jeremy returned and she felt his lips on the back of her neck. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She smiled at his jest, and he released her as several women saw her at the door and waved.
It was time to end this day as it had begun…with laughter and music. But lingering thoughts of Evan lying upstairs with his shoulder in a thick bandage haunted Gwyneth’s mind and heart.
Because she couldn’t avoid the knowledge that if not for Evan, she would be the one lying there. And she might not have been so lucky…
Chapter Twenty-Nine
In the days that followed, Gwyneth found herself surprised by a steady flow of pretty much everyone living near Wolfbridge who had discovered a reason to “drop by” and inquire as to Evan and his health.
It brought home to her how valued the Manor was; how important a role it played in the lives of so many people, not only those who resided and worked on the estate itself.
Thankfully, Evan was an excellent patient, and less than five days after the incident he was up and around and sitting outside in the sunshine, greeting his friends and visitors with his usual good humour.
To everyone’s surprise, Gabriel had assumed command of the kitchen, and although he didn’t have Evan’s magic touch, he managed creditable bread, revealed a dab hand at the simple foods, and even attempted a cake which—in spite of being a wee bit lopsided—was declared by all to be very tasty indeed.
The shooting itself remained uppermost in everyone’s mind, and conversations and theories ran rampant throughout the little community. Several villagers had helped to replace the glass in the ballroom, so there was little evidence left of the event itself. Giles, Royce and Trick had spent quite a bit of time outside, trying to work out the most logical location for the source of the shot.
Jeremy had stayed by her side. It was a given, now, since one fact had emerged with startling clarity.
It was most likely that she had been the original target, but Evan had moved in front of her just in time.
“I saw the gun, Giles.” He’d told them all at the same time, and his words had taken them aback. “I was looking out the window at the storm. The lightning was ferocious, and there were two huge flashes…the entire world seemed to flare to life.” He shuddered. “And in that second I saw a man with a gun. He was beneath the trees at the edge of the lawn, quite some distance away, but he was aiming at us.”
“And you moved in front of me…” She breathed the words.
“It was instinctive.” He grinned wryly. “Believe me, I had no intention of getting shot. I just wasn’t sure what was happening.”
“But you didn’t recognise the man?” Giles asked the question quietly but with a great deal of intensity in his gaze.
“I didn’t, no. And I’m sorry for that. Average height, dark hair…and what could have been hunting clothes, but the main thing I recall is that he had a gun up to his shoulder…that’s what struck me most.”
From that moment on, Gwyneth had found herself with an escort and although she had complained about it, she could not avoid it. And in all honesty, she did feel a little better knowing that there would always be someone at her side. But for how long?
At least in the house she had more leeway, and since the weather had turned to rain, she did not mind having her gentlemen pop their heads around the door of whatever room she was in, just to make sure she was all right.
Evan had already returned to his domain, but as yet was forbidden to pick up a pot. Under his tutelage, Gabriel was improving his culinary skills, and she spent a delightful afternoon listening to Evan’s instructions as he taught Gabriel how to create a pie. She learned the secret of pastry making, and also a few new curse words. Those she stored up to be taken out and used when necessary.
The other men were also protective of Evan, but probably would have denied it loudly if it had been pointed out to them. It was still another example of how Wolfbridge brought people together in ways that linked them into a unit, whether they realised it or not. Both Gabriel and Royce were newcomers, and yet here they were, sharing tasks with Jeremy, ragging Evan mercilessly, and guarding her as if she were their queen and they her brave knights.
It was a strange time, but it gave her the opportunity to catch her breath a little after the entire episode of the Whit Sunday adventures.
And, of course, it gave her time to wonder who would want her dead.
She posed the question one evening as they all sat comfortably around the brandy tray in the Rose room. Evan was there, enjoying his first glass since his wounding.
“What would anyone have to gain by my death? That’s what is puzzling me.” She sipped and stared into the small fire they’d lit. The day had been cool and damp, and the flames were a welcome glow.
“It certainly can’t be anyone who is familiar with Wolfbridge,” said Jeremy thoughtfully. “Everyone knows that the estate is entailed within the Wolfbridge line of women. So if something should happen to you, Gwyneth—God forbid—it would pass to the next Lady.”
“And I have no will,” she added. “Not that I have any possessions to leave to anyone anyway.”
“We probably should see about that,” mused Giles. “Just in case.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “Yes, we probably should. I need to know the two books I own will go to a good home.”
There was a general chuckle at her dry comment.
“I can say that such an event would cause a great deal of confusion…” Gabriel offered. “Wolfbridge would be once again without a Lady…does that make it more vulnerable?”
Giles shook his head. “Not really, but it could be a major distraction, and I’m still leaning toward that as a reason.”
“Hmm.” Royce narrowed his eyes. “Enough of a distraction to take your mind off Fivetrees?” He paused. “Or the blackmail threats?”
Giles was silent for a few moments, deep in thought. “I can certainly say that both those things are possible…”
“The Baron cea
sed his pursuit of me once he knew about the situation with Wolfbridge,” commented Gwyneth. “Does that take him off the list of possible perpetrators?”
“I 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 it is to have a place in others’ thoughts. To hear their affectionate compassion for Evan, to see them visit me and try to cheer me up with a flower or two, or a funny story, or the little girl who brought me her new kitten to play with while her Mama visited Evan…little things that have opened a new door in my mind.
Life can be harsh and tragic. Life can be bitter. But life can also be joyous and it is liberating to understand that I don’t have to be afraid any more. That I can dare to care about those who are coming to mean so much to me. I suppose I am learning to trust. I’m not sure that I ever have fully trusted anyone since Michael. What I learned from that lesson hardened me in many ways. I realise now I built a wall around my inner emotions. Was it a bad thing? Probably not, all things considered. But now, it is crumbling. And the light that the chinks are revealing is wonderful - and frightening at the same time.
Which brings me to last night. And Gabriel.
I felt so distraught at the end of yesterday. Trouble is out there, waiting, watching, wanting whatever it is it - or he - wants. It is a shadow that lingers over Wolfbridge, and I found myself both tired, worried and angry that it should happen just as the sunlight is warming so much of me.
I asked Gabriel to walk me to my room, in full knowledge of what I would ask when he got there with me.
A new boldness seems to have crept into my personality, for I felt no shame at asking him to share my bed. I wasn’t sure how he’d respond, or if he’d refuse me. He knew he could say no…I made sure of that.
But he hushed me and kissed me, a long, sweet meeting of our mouths that melted me and turned my loins upside down with pleasure.
I knew he’d never had a woman. That I would be his first.
Such a thing…well I was nervous, to be honest. Would I have to direct him? In our other interactions, he’s been perfectly aware, so I decided to simply allow him to do whatever he wanted with me.
“Take me, Gabriel,”
I said, keeping my voice low. “Whatever pleases you will please me this night.”
He smiled then, a nod and a curve of his beautiful mouth. Then he said “Gwyneth, I could not love you more than I do at this moment.”
And my heart turned over.
He undressed me, a simple matter since he’d been caring for me constantly.
He let me undress him, and once again I was struck by his amazing and extraordinary beauty. His body is muscular but sleek, like a perfectly bred racehorse. His white-blonde hair fascinates me, and his green eyes brighten as he becomes aroused.
I expect my eyes brightened too as he showed his arousal, because he has a fine example of male magnificence, rising from a soft yellow nest of curls.
He seemed to enjoy my touches, and encouraged me to play, lying with me and relaxing on his back while I explored freely. Now I understand the meaning of the brand on his backside, I can also appreciate some of the horrors he has experienced. Perhaps that inspired me to be extra-loving in my attentions, since my mouth watered for him, I took him in and loved him with my tongue and my hands, and then dared to explore beneath to his silky sac with its fragile contents.
He groaned more than once, running his fingers through my hair as he whispered my name so softly.
Finally he moved me away and I knew what he wanted. His cheeks were rosy in the candlelight, and his eyes so brilliant a green I cannot describe them.
He rolled me to my back and lay between my legs, playing with my breasts in the most delicious of ways, suckling, teasing and even pinching them - all of which gave me the utmost pleasure.
I was ready for him, my body flowing with moisture, my limbs parting…he pulled himself up onto his hands and just looked at me for the longest of moments.
I spoke his name, wondering if he was going to take me or not.
His gaze met mine, and I saw the tears. His words will be eternally burned into my heart.
“Gwyneth, I want to remember this moment forever. I want to remember how beautiful you are, and how you have changed my life.”