by Sahara Kelly
As surprising as it may seem, between watching my two gentlemen and their sensual attentions, and the touch of Jeremy’s fingers, so alluring and arousing, I once again achieved that magnificent cataclysm, shaking and shivering against the firm body that held me so tightly as I rode out the waves of delight.
Evan’s muted cry of release echoed my own, and I watched in amazement as Gabriel took all of him, not releasing him until he was fully spent.
Then…and tears are coming to my eyes as I write this, Gabriel lifted his head, moved a little and laid it back down on Evan’s bare stomach. Whereupon Evan raised his good hand and ran it gently through Gabriel’s hair as he whispered the words “Thank you, my friend.”
It was almost unbearably beautiful.
Why, I wondered, why are such things regarded as a crime? Evan and Gabriel could hang for what they had just done. To be sentenced to death for an act of love seems the epitome of absurdity. Some things in life I shall never fully understand.
After that moment, we all seemed to tire rapidly, and Evan slipped in beside me, a match to Jeremy on the other side. Gabriel took a blanket and lay across the bottom of the bed, finding my feet and holding them against his chest as he settled.
And that is how we all fell asleep. When I awoke…I was once again alone, with delicious and moving memories of a night that might have been drawn from some sensually erotic novel set in a strange foreign land, instead of a quiet country corner of England.
But I am living proof that such things can happen. And that from the depths of despair, one can indeed rise to the heights of ecstasy.
I am enjoying every minute of those heights.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I apologise for dragging you away from everyone,” said Giles as Royce followed him down the hall. “But this is important and I cannot put it off any longer.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can always join them later. I’m sure they’ll find ways to keep busy even though I’m not with them.”
Giles flashed him a glance as he opened the door to his study and ushered the other man inside. “You enjoy such times?”
“Wouldn’t any man?”
“Of course.” Giles closed the window, shutting out the evening air. The room was cool enough, and he sat, loosening his cravat. “A personal question, Royce, if I may be permitted.”
An expression of curiosity crossed his face, but he nodded. “Of course.”
“Have you…” he paused, seeking the right words. “Have you been intimate with Lady Gwyneth?”
Royce blinked. Then frowned. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“An important one, or I wouldn’t be asking it,” answered Giles, trying not to sound reproving.
“All right,” said Royce, a frown creasing his brow. “We’ve shared some fun. Some sexual experiences.”
“Define…” Giles caught himself. “No, I need to ask this in clear terms. Have you penetrated the Lady?”
Royce swallowed. “Well, that is blunt talk indeed.” He took a breath. “No. We have shared some experiences that have, I believe, brought her to her peak of pleasure. But no, I have not personally stuck my cock in her, if that’s what you’re pussyfooting around asking me.”
Giles hid his grin. “Yes, that was what I was asking. Thank you for your honesty.”
Royce leaned back. “Now it’s my turn. Why the devil would you want to know the intimate details of my interaction with Gwyneth?”
“Because it’s important and has a direct bearing on what I am about to say.”
“All right, then. Say it.”
“I am leaving Wolfbridge and I want you to take my place.”
Royce paled and stared at Giles with wide eyes. Then he swallowed, cleared his throat and stared a little longer before words actually came out of his mouth. “Say that again. I’m not sure I heard you aright…”
“You heard me correctly, Royce. I am leaving Wolfbridge. I do not make this decision lightly, that’s for certain, but the time has come and matters have changed. I’ve been here for well over two decades now. It has been my home and my sanctuary, and has given me the chance to right many lives, and cherish many Ladies of the Manor.”
“You’re going to leave it? Leave Wolfbridge?” Royce asked, seemingly having a little difficulty understanding the words.
Giles nodded. “Many years ago, when we first met, you’d just enlisted. I knew then, even though we had very little time to get to know each other, that you would make an excellent guardian here. But you weren’t ready. Your life at that point was headed in another direction, and I found that I was happy where I was. Not until most recently did those matters change. And your coming here was serendipitous, to say the least.”
“What does my relationship with Gwyneth have to do with it?”
Giles pursed his lips. “There are matters pertaining to my position here that remain private. As they will if you take over after I leave. One of the most important is that we remain isolated from physical penetration of the Lady of Wolfbridge.” He rubbed his forehead. “It has to do with the chances of creating a child. You cannot begin to imagine the complexities involved should that happen. And it also tries to deal with the risks incurred by deeper emotional involvements. It wouldn’t do to fall head over heels in love with the Lady, if she leaves and another one takes her place.”
“But…” Royce stood and began to pace, his face creased in thought. “What if she ends up with child from one of the others?”
“That is a situation that is to be dealt with if and when it occurs.” Giles shrugged. “Nobody knows why, but such a thing has never happened.”
Royce stopped dead. “Never? Not one of the ladies ever got pregnant?”
“It’s possible that a couple of the ladies who left to wed the gentleman they loved might have been with child. Lady Adalyn left to wed Daniel. Was she expecting a child? I don’t believe so, because she would have told me had she known, I think. But now, ’tis of no matter. The rules apply to the current Lady, and that’s Gwyneth.”
“So if she gets with child…and doesn’t know who the father is…”
Giles held up his hand. “You’re going down a complicated path, Royce. As I said, there are dictates that help manage a variety of situations, and when you assume my role, you will be able to read all of them. I would suggest doing so when you have an entire day to yourself. And possibly a bottle of brandy.” He grinned wryly. “There are a lot of dictates.”
Royce returned to his chair and sank down, running his hands through his hair distractedly. “Giles, I’m not sure about any of this. I care very much for Gwyneth, without a doubt. Am I head over heels in love with her? Probably not. But I’ve been here less than a year. I’m only just getting my balance with the entire estate financial situation…I’m not sure if I’m the right man for the job.” He looked up. “Jeremy’s been here a much longer time and knows Wolfbridge like the back of his hand. Wouldn’t he be the best and most logical choice?”
Giles folded his hands over his chest and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “Jeremy is undoubtedly the most familiar with the Manor. He’s also the most lighthearted and good-natured lad. He’s been part of the medicine Wolfbridge has administered to the Ladies who have arrived here, most at their wits’ end, or—in Gwyneth’s case—very ill as well.” He shrugged. “But Jeremy is not the right person for my job.”
“He’s too softhearted?”
“In many ways, yes. This position requires an ability to command. Four gentlemen and a confused Lady need a firm hand to guide them along their proscribed paths. Jeremy’s hand is too gentle. Yours, however…”
Royce nodded. “I’ve commanded men in the field. Sent too many to their deaths. Yes, I know the responsibilities of authority, and when you put it like that then, no, Jeremy is not your man.” He took a breath. “I’m just not convinced that I am.”
“I can understand that,” agreed Giles. “But consider this as well. Times will
change—they are changing as we speak. It’s inevitable. Socially, we’ll be facing a new king before long. We both know that His Majesty is failing, which will put the Prince on the throne. That will alter things considerably. Wolfbridge has to adjust, even though we’re buried quietly away in our own little corner of the land. It needs someone who can evaluate the changes that must be made and choose the ones that work for us here.” He gazed out the window into the darkness. “We’re unique, Royce.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” he answered.
“That uniqueness, our individuality and what many would see as flaunting every single convention there is…could easily be threatened by the progress of civilisation. It will be up to the man who takes over my chair here to see that such advances are managed acceptably. We cannot avoid it, but we can adjust it to fit into our particular way of life.”
“That will not be an easy task,” said Royce thoughtfully. “As you note, Wolfbridge is tucked into its own corner. If that corner should become more of a crossroads…”
“Exactly. It will be up to whoever holds the reins to make the adjustments necessary to continue our original Lady’s terms of entail.”
“I have so many questions…”
“Understandable. And to answer the basics…there is a small stipend allotted to this position. I’ve not used much of it, since we dress relatively simply here. I bought a horse a few years ago. Personal expenses are minimal. And of course you have a permanent home here at Wolfbridge.” He rose and stretched. “My quarters are quite nice, and sufficient for pretty much anyone’s needs.”
Royce rose as well, and the two men walked together to the window. The moon had risen and the trees were drenched in soft silver light.
“The process of selecting the Ladies is a complex one. That involves quite a bit of time, and also an extensive network of contacts all over the country. These matters will be passed to you. It sounds overwhelming, but it actually isn’t, once you get the hang of it.”
“In about five years,” remarked Royce. “I haven’t said I’ll take it yet, you know.”
Giles smiled, and lifted his arm, resting it on the other man’s firm shoulder in an unusual gesture of affection. “Yes you have, Royce. You haven’t walked away from me. You didn’t when I first told you what was happening. You are the man I knew would be my successor and you’ve yet to prove otherwise.”
Royce glanced at him, amusement in his eyes. “You’re what the men under my command would have affectionately called a right shifty bastard, Giles.” He sighed. “Very well. I will accept your offer. God help me.”
“He always does.” Giles murmured. “He always does.”
They were silent for a moment or two, each busy with their thoughts.
Then Royce frowned. “I haven’t asked you where you’re going? What are you going to do?”
“No you haven’t. And at this time I can’t tell you.”
“And I suppose I’m to keep all this to myself until you’re ready to spill the beans to everyone else?”
“Exactly. You have just demonstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt your ability to replace me.”
Royce rolled his eyes. “Right shifty bastard, through and through.”
*~~*~~*
Gwyneth arrived at the breakfast table significantly later than usual, and without the customary spring in her step. Truth to tell, she was suffering the after-effects of too much brandy—and probably an excess of physical passion.
However, the faces that greeted her were clearly experiencing the same thing, so the conversation over the eggs and toast was desultory at best.
“I’m leaving off this damned sling,” said Evan, undoing it with disgust. “My shoulder is almost healed and I’m tired of feeling like an invalid.” He looked at the table. “And I need to be able to produce a full breakfast. This is…well, it’s minimal.”
“Evan, stop being so hard on yourself,” said Gwyneth. “You’ve kept going, rearranged things in the kitchen so that you can continue to cook—I think you’ve gone well above and beyond what might have been expected, given the circumstances.”
“Hear hear.” Jeremy and Gabriel nodded in agreement.
Giles and Royce appeared, looking disgustingly normal.
Royce cast a knowing eye around the table and raised one eyebrow. “I’m guessing there are a variety of headaches on display this morning.”
“Royce?” Gwyneth looked at him.
“Yes?”
“Be quiet.”
“Yes, m’Lady,” he bowed with a smirk.
Giles watched, a look of amusement on his face that made Gwyneth want to reach out and slap it. An unusual sentiment for her, but then again, she was unused to feeling such a fully-fledged hangover. Tea and toast were all she could stomach, but they did seem to be settling her a little.
“If I may make a request…” Giles looked around, his gaze landing on Jeremy. “In quietly modulated tones, of course…”
Jeremy looked up, winced, and looked down again.
“I would like to speak with you this afternoon, after lunch. There are some important matters to be discussed. Will that be convenient for you all?”
Gwyneth wanted to nod, but wasn’t sure that was the best notion, so she merely dipped her head carefully in agreement. “Of course,” she responded. “I believe I will go for a stroll this morning. The fresh air will do me good.”
“You’ll stay within the grounds?” Royce shot her a quick look.
“I will,” she replied. “Although with Randschen gone, I see no reason to worry about being outdoors.”
“You’ll have to excuse my caution, my Lady,” said Royce firmly. “After what we’ve experienced recently, it will be a little while before I am comfortable with you wandering the countryside alone.”
She wanted to argue, her independence rearing its head in protest. But deep inside, she knew he was right. She had to remember that she was the Lady of Wolfbridge outside the Manor house as well as within. And as such, she could not afford to be too vulnerable.
“You have the right of it, Royce. I shall confine myself to the gardens.” She wrinkled her nose. “After yesterday, I doubt I’ll feel like wandering in the woods for a while, anyway.”
Silence fell as everyone considered the implications.
“Right then.” Giles finished his tea and picked up the last piece of toast, buttering it generously. “I’ll be in my office if I’m needed.” He looked at Jeremy. “You might ask the maids to air out a couple of the upstairs guest rooms. It’s going to be getting hot soon and a good breeze now and again keeps the stuffiness down.”
“Good idea,” nodded Jeremy.
“May I take a look at the flowerbeds, Giles? I know my Lady has mentioned some new plantings and I had a couple of suggestions…” Gabriel hesitated.
“If my Lady approves…”
“She does,” smiled Gwyneth. “A lovely notion, Gabriel. And a good time to do it, since we can see what’s coming into bloom and make the best decisions on what to put where.”
“Well I’ll be in the kitchen.” Evan flexed his hand, now free of the sling. “I have many things to do, least of which is to prepare a really good dinner. It feels like years since I had one.”
Snorts of derision greeted his pronouncement.
“I see that everyone has their assigned tasks,” said Giles. “So let’s be about our business. I’m sure a little concentrated effort will reduce the pain you’re probably all experiencing this morning.” His face betrayed his amusement. “Look at it this way. It would have been a hell of a lot worse if you’d been drinking a cheaper brandy.”
“The man has a point,” observed Jeremy.
“Yes, but it hasn’t really helped,” griped Evan, resting his forehead on his hands.
“Fresh air,” sighed Gabriel. “I really think that’s what I need…” He rose and extended his hand to Gwyneth. “My Lady? Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste…”
“Good God
,” said Royce, a look of shock on his face. “That’s Shakespeare.”
“I do read, you know,” observed Gabriel mildly, waiting for Gwyneth to rise. “It’s from Richard the Third.”
“Well done, Gabriel,” she smiled at him. “You’ve managed to astound our inscrutable Royce.”
“I rather think I did.” Gabriel grinned. “I feel much better now.”
Royce sighed, an audible breath that followed them as they left the room.
“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?”