Lady Adalyn (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 1)

by Sahara Kelly

  It was a night of surprises, painful memories and outpourings of sweet attentions. As I prepared for bed, I felt more at ease with myself than ever before.

  Then…and yes, dear Diary, there is more…came a big surprise.

  I did not sleep alone.

  Goodness, I never thought to write those words, since my late husband refused to sleep in the same bed with me. Something for which, I might add, I shall be eternally grateful.

  But back to last night. I was almost asleep when I felt a presence and turned to find Jeremy—yes, Jeremy—slipping out of his robe and into my bed.

  He held me. Put his arms around me, turned me away from him so that our bodies would fit…spooning he called it…and that is how I fell asleep.

  His warmth, his care of me, stemmed from some incident in his past, he told me. Since that time he has never been able to countenance any kind of violence against a woman, and what he saw on my body persuaded him that he should be with me that night, offering his body as protection and comfort.

  I liked it. No, that is too mild a way of expressing my emotions. I loved it. I loved his heat, the scent of his skin, the firm flesh that pressed against my spine and the strong thighs that rode up and supported my legs. I loved the feeling of being safe, protected by his arms.

  I even loved the sensation of his maleness, hard and thick, nestled against parts of me I had thought would never see use again. To my surprise, I found myself responding to his presence, relaxing, loosening, and yes I wished I had been naked too. I would like to know how it is to be skin-to-skin with a man. And especially one so well built, handsome and possessed of a fine arousal.

  Just the thought makes my body respond; I know enough to understand that the moisture I felt in certain areas was in answer to Jeremy’s touch. I loved it, dear Diary, and I suppose I should now regard myself as a sinner. Well, so be it.

  It would seem that sinning is a great deal more pleasurable than being virtuous and then being beaten for it.

  I doubt it will happen again, and I shall say no more of it after today.

  But I cannot help wondering what it was that made Jeremy react so strongly to the sight of my bruised skin. Perhaps one day I will learn the story behind it…

  Chapter Seven

  True to her promise, Adalyn kept her counsel and remained silent about Jeremy’s nocturnal visit. Her bed was empty when she awoke, and they continued to greet each other at breakfast as if nothing had happened.

  She began to set up a pattern of activity over the next few weeks, and although she suspected that Jeremy would be quite willing to repeat his trip to her room, she did her best to keep any hints that he might be welcome to herself. Feelings of uncertainty whispered in her mind now and again—whether she had she done the right thing or made a horrid mistake. Her upbringing was difficult to overcome even though she was of an age to make her own decisions.

  Most mornings, there were letters about estate matters, which she diverted to Daniel. Often they would spend an hour or two going over them, especially if some required expenditures from the Manor accounts.

  She might pop down to the kitchen, lured there when Evan was cooking something that sent tendrils of mouth-watering fragrance through the house. She learned much about food from him, the way to tell ripe fruits and vegetables, and how to prove a good loaf of bread.

  Learning to ride was supposed to be her spring endeavour, but the weather refused to present any clear days. Trick had hoped to purchase a suitable horse for her, but he announced that until he could assess her seat, he was hesitant to choose one, lest it not fit her requirements. Putting her on anything while the ground was a soft and muddy mess wouldn’t serve at all.

  The whole business of being the Lady of Wolfbridge was becoming real to Adalyn. Each day she made a new decision or consulted with any of her gentlemen—it was a reinforcement of who she was. And the men supported, encouraged and at times demanded she assume the role without hesitation or question.

  One morning she spent some time with Evan, discussing food, his cooking facilities and finally, as her curiosity grew, stepping outside into what was currently the kitchen garden. She pulled her shawl around her, for the day was grey and chilly, but the wind had lost its bite and she felt no need for her coat.

  “Spring is on the way, I think,” she lifted her head and sniffed. “Can you smell it?”

  Evan chuckled. “I think you’re smelling the wet leaves, Lady Adalyn.”

  “No, really.” She blinked at him. “There is something in the air when the seasons prepare to change. You must have noticed in autumn…the way the world smells of chrysanthemums.”

  He shook his head. “I can see you’re a person who has what’s called a nose, my Lady. Your sense of smell is beyond us mortals.”

  “Nonsense,” she chided him. “I have a perfectly normal nose. And it’s telling me this is your mint.” She stooped to a small recessed area in the wall of the kitchen and picked off a leaf from a plant, rubbing it between her fingers and sniffing with delight.

  “You have found it. Sturdy little plant, isn’t she?”

  “She?” Adalyn quirked an eyebrow. “Your mint is a she?”

  “Of course.” He looked at her in surprise. “There are beautiful tiny flowers in early summer. A scent that lingers faintly even after you’ve put down the leaves, and a root that takes hold and refuses to let go.” He grinned. “What else could it be but a female?”

  Adalyn laughed. “I’m thinking your opinion of women must be quite confusing, Evan. But I’ll agree with you on the mint.” She walked on a little, taking the narrow turf path between the flowerbeds. “What other herbs do you have?”

  He followed behind her, pointing out various plants, some still green, others which had died back to mere dry stumps.

  “You know this garden well,” said Adalyn as they reached the end. “How long have you been at Wolfbridge?”

  “About two years now, I suppose.” He bent and gently freed a tiny green sprig of something, allowing it to breathe beneath a larger leaf. “Sometimes I feel as if I’ve been here much longer than that.”

  “You were a cook before you arrived, I take it. Such delicious meals don’t spring to life from the hands of someone who has no experience.”

  “One might say that, yes.” He turned away and starting walking back toward the kitchen. “My mother loved to cook. I believe I inherited her fascination with the colours, textures, tastes…the business of combining so many wonderful flavours to produce an even more splendid dish.”

  “She must have been an amazing woman,” said Adalyn quietly.

  “She was.”

  He reached the kitchen and turned, his hazel eyes lowered. “My Lady.” He held the door open for her.

  “I’m sorry, Evan.” She touched his arm. “I did not mean to resurrect painful memories. I deduce from your words that your mother is no longer with us. You have my deepest sympathies.”

  “You are very kind,” he nodded. Then ushered her back into the warmth of the kitchen. “I think she would have enjoyed what I plan for this evening’s sweet.”

  “Really?” Adalyn smiled. “Do tell.”

  He shook his head. “Not a whisper. ’Tis to be a surprise.”

  “Grrr.” She mock-growled.

  “Patience, my Lady. It is like a good story. Some things must unfold gradually so the revelations are all the more exciting.”

  Blinking at that somewhat obscure statement, Adalyn merely nodded. Then held out her hand. “Thank you, Evan.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking the time to show me your garden. And for being patient and kind.”

  He lifted it and cradled it in both of his, warming it a little before raising it to his lips. “You deserve all the kindness I have to give, my Lady.”

  She melted as his eyes met hers, and she saw the heat there, banked, but simmering. “Call me Adalyn,” she whispered.

  He turned her hand over, unbuttoned her cuff and stroke
d the soft skin of her forearm.

  Shivers ran over her, delicate dancing sparkles of sensation. Then he tilted his head and gently touched his tongue to her pulse.

  She released a ragged sigh, lost in the wonder of his sensual gesture.

  “Thank you, Adalyn.” His breath was cool against the wetness of her skin.

  Then he buttoned her cuff and freed her. “Save some room for the sweet.”

  She had to clear her throat before replying. “I will.” And she turned, hurrying for the stairs, urged away from Evan and his dangerously appealing eyes by the knowledge that she found them—and him—far too attractive for her own peace of mind.

  Her personal retreat had become the Rose room, the books it contained to hold endless fascination for her. She heard the rain begin and her footsteps took her there, almost without her conscious effort. Since gardens were uppermost on her mind, she located a book she’d started reading a few days ago and turned to the section on kitchen gardens.

  She was surprised to be reminded by Giles that her lunch would be served shortly.

  “Might I have a tray in here, do you think? I’ve found this marvellous dissertation on something I believe would appeal to Evan. It’s about how to make a perfect kitchen garden, and I’d love to discuss it with him…but I need to finish the relevant passages.”

  “I believe he would enjoy that, my Lady,” nodded Giles in approval. “It shall be as you wish.”

  He left, and Adalyn mulled over his words. As you wish. What could she possibly wish for that she didn’t already have?

  It was a strange and unanswerable question, but she put it aside when Evan entered with a tray. The next couple of hours passed quickly as they pored over the diagrams, explanations, and ideas contained in the reference book, with the result that Adalyn became determined to create such a garden for Wolfbridge.

  And for Evan.

  Once again she asked if she might enjoy their company for dinner, and Giles approved. They were becoming less of a Mistress and her servants, and more of a family, she realised.

  Was this right? Was it proper? And what would be said should it get about that the Mistress of Wolfbridge dined with her servants? Her all-male servants?

  These matters troubled Adalyn, but as she tasted the wonderful gooseberry fool that Evan had whipped up for their sweet course, and shared the delight of everyone at her dinner table, she decided that since she knew nobody in the area at all, she need not worry herself too much about it.

  ~~~~~

  Of course, as was the way of such things, just thinking about neighbours was sufficient to summon them, and a few days later, a carriage drew up before of the Wolfbridge front door.

  “Pardon me, my Lady. You have guests.” Giles peered into the Rose room, where Adalyn was comfortably ensconced behind the small desk, making some notes on her garden project.

  “I do?” She blinked.

  “Yes,” he sighed. “Sir Amery Fairhurst has come to pay his respects. I’ve put him in the parlour, along with the young lady who accompanies him.”

  “Oh dear,” she muttered, frowning at her notes. “Who is he, Giles?”

  “Your nearest neighbour, Ma’am.” He moved to help her rise and pulled the chair out of the way. “The Fairhurst estate is known hereabouts as Fivetrees, because of the five tall firs nearby. Sir Amery’s family has held the land for several generations.” He placed Adalyn’s hand correctly on his sleeve and walked her slowly to the door. “You should be aware that Sir Amery considers Wolfbridge to be a desirable property and would like to extend the borders of Fivetrees to include our lands.”

  She paused. “He wants to buy it?”

  “That is one way, yes.”

  “And the other?”

  “I believe he may well decide that wedding the mistress of Wolfbridge would also serve his goals.”

  “Really?” She glanced at him, her eyes wide.

  “He’s tried before.”

  “With Lady Panthea, I assume.”

  Giles nodded. “Indeed yes. Quite persistent in his pursuit of her.”

  They walked into the hall, and Adalyn took a breath. “Thank you for warning me, Giles. Will you stay near?”

  “Always. And Jeremy will be in attendance at all times.” His hand came up to cover hers and gave it a brief squeeze.

  Comforted by the gesture, she released his arm and allowed him to usher her into the parlour where two people rose upon her entrance.

  “Good morning,” she said, walking toward the fireplace where a gentleman stood. Next to him was a lady, although she seemed quite youthful; perhaps because of her slight build. “I am Lady Wilkerson. I believe we are neighbours?”

  “Lady Wilkerson,” the gentleman bowed with elegance. “I am delighted to meet you at last.” He glanced to the young woman. “My niece Judith.”

  The girl dipped a curtsey, her black gown and hat indication of some recent loss. “Lady Wilkerson.” It was a nervous whisper which—oddly enough—helped put Adalyn more at ease.

  “Please sit.” Adalyn gestured to the couch. “It is pleasant to meet neighbours at last. I’ve been told of your estate; Fivetrees I believe it’s called?”

  Judith accepted the offer of a seat, but Sir Amery remained standing in a mannish pose near the mantel. Adalyn wanted to chuckle, but held her countenance as he nodded.

  “Indeed yes, Ma’am. It has been in our family for several hundred years now. Not as old as Wolfbridge, nor with such distinguished antecedents, but a solid part of this county’s history, nonetheless.”

  “It sounds delightful,” she murmured.

  “We Fairhursts like to think so, of course.” He smiled, a superior expression that conveyed approval of her comment. And irritated her. “But you are a Wilkerson, so I’m sure you understand.” He paused. “My sincere condolences by the way, Ma’am. A tragic occurrence and a sad loss to us all. Your husband was a fine man and will be missed.” He sighed. “Even though your bereavement is of recent date, we took a chance and came to your door, trusting you would allow us a brief moment to introduce ourselves and offer our sympathies, in spite of your mourning.”

  Adalyn swallowed, and noted Jeremy quietly entering and standing in one corner, hands folded. His presence helped her through a few difficult moments.

  “You are most kind, sir. You knew my late husband?”

  He waved a hand. “Only generally. Our paths crossed at a couple of clubs in town.” He raised his chin. “Gentlemen’s clubs, don’t you know. One does have to keep abreast of all that’s happening in the Metropolis.”

  Having thus established his superiority to his satisfaction, he strolled to a chair and seated himself. “Now, my Lady. Do tell us all about yourself.”

  She gave him a polite smile, ignored his request and turned to the other woman. “Miss Judith, are you visiting your uncle? It would seem that the area is not at its best at this time of year, although one can manage a drive or two between rainstorms.”

  “Oh no, I am living here now. Sir Amery has been kind enough to offer me a place with him.”

  A pair of nervous brown eyes met her gaze.

  “How kind. And how lovely to know I have a young lady almost next door, one might say.” This time the warmth in Adalyn’s smile was genuine.

  “Judith doesn’t go about much,” interrupted Sir Amery. “She’s also recovering from a loss in the family, you know. But we’re hoping to change all that. Since you and she share similar circumstances, I wondered if it might be appropriate to invite you to dine with us. I understand you’re both in mourning, but a small dinner shared with neighbours—no music or entertainment of course—could be just the thing to lift your spirits?”

  Adalyn hesitated, but then a look from Judith—full of pleading—changed her mind. “I can see no reason why I should not be able to accept your invitation, sir. It is most kind of you to take into account my sad state at the moment.”

  “Excellent, my dear. I see our new neighbour is wise as well as
charming.”

  Adalyn inclined her head noncommittally, uncomfortable with such obvious flattery. “Although I am endeavouring to remain in seclusion during this time, it seems that your suggestion of a simple evening might be acceptable. Will you let my butler know as soon as you determine a day?”

  “Well, why not now?” replied Sir Amery, all geniality. “Let’s say Friday, shall we?”

  Three days, thought Adalyn. Yes, that ought to give me time to learn more about the pitfalls of dining with the Fairhursts.

  “I believe that will be acceptable,” she nodded.

  “Very well then,” he said, a wide smile on his face. “I shall send my carriage—”

  “Oh no,” Adalyn stopped him with her words and a raised hand. “You are too kind. I will use mine, Sir Amery. You are the host after all. And my carriage horses need a little exercise now and then.”

  “Well, but…I…” He blustered a little, as if surprised she had refused his offer.

  “It is my pleasure to visit. You must not allow this dinner to inconvenience you in any way.” She rose. “So I shall look forward to seeing you on Friday then.” Her words made it quite clear that this would be her final statement on the matter.

  Miss Judith also stood and came to her side. “It will be lovely having you come to Fivetrees, Lady Wilkerson. I will be looking forward to it as well.” She curtseyed, and Adalyn smiled.

  “My niece is quite correct,” added Sir Amery as they walked into the hall. “We shall very much enjoy your presence, I’m sure.” He raised her hand and placed a warm, enthusiastic kiss on the back of it.

  She wanted to wipe her hand on her gown, but managed not to. “You are too kind.”

  Giles was at the door, Sir Amery’s hat in one hand and Miss Judith’s gloves and muffler in the other. “Sir, Miss.” He bowed, a fluid and graceful move that put Sir Amery’s attempt at polish to shame.

  “Thank you again for your kindness.” Adalyn watched as they left, sighing as Giles closed the door.

  She turned to him. “I don’t think I like Sir Amery very much. He leaves one with an odd feeling. The sort of thing I imagine would result if a caterpillar just crawled over one’s skin.”