Lady Adalyn (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 1)

by Sahara Kelly

  Giles did his best to stifle a laugh. “I couldn’t have said it better, my Lady.”

  “And what of poor Miss Judith? There is something troubling there. She looks apprehensive. Not scared exactly, but edgy. As if she might run and hide at a loud noise.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. This is the first I’ve heard of a niece, let alone met her. So I would assume she is a recent addition to the family.”

  “I’m sure she is his niece,” mused Adalyn. “Not even someone as cocksure as Sir Amery would risk bringing anyone to Wolfbridge who was of a less-than-acceptable nature.” She thought about it. “Besides, she’s entirely the wrong type to be his mistress.”

  Giles blinked in surprise. “Good Lord. What would you know of such things, Lady Adalyn?”

  She sighed. “The men in my life thus far have not been as circumspect as they might have been.”

  “Your late husband?”

  “And an uncle as well. Discussions were held within my hearing. I learned…things.”

  Giles frowned. “A shame. A sin, actually. To sully one so young with matters best kept private…there is little excuse for that.”

  “Be that as it may, I am relatively sure it does not apply to Miss Judith.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I agree.”

  Jeremy walked out to join them. “You were splendid, Lady Adalyn.”

  His smile warmed her. “Thank you Jeremy. Knowing you were there helped me over any potential difficulties. I was surprised when he mentioned knowing Wilkerson.” She wrinkled her nose. “And not impressed that he had done so.”

  “You responded with cool perfection, my Lady,” grinned Jeremy. “Even if you wanted to stick a hat pin into his overt and overblown self-importance.”

  She met his amused smile with one of her own. “You know me rather well, don’t you? Was I that obvious?”

  “Not at all. But he was.”

  Giles chuckled. “Yes. He is one of those men who is convinced of his own superiority.” His smile faded. “Which is why, when you dine with him on Friday, you will be very careful, Lady Adalyn.”

  “Of course,” she began, a little puzzled.

  “He wants Wolfbridge,” continued Giles. “I believe his obsession began when a rumour made the rounds over a decade ago.” He sighed. “’Twas said that before estates had names, the land comprising both Fivetrees and Wolfbridge belonged to one lucky baron. When and why it was split, nobody seems to know. But when Sir Amery heard that, the visits started.”

  Adalyn shook her head. “That sounds as if it was during the time of King John. I recall reading about the business with the Barons, and the Magna Carta. It’s astounding to realise that some of our greatest homes were built so many centuries ago.”

  “Be that as it may, and perhaps it was one big estate once upon a time, but it’s been Wolfbridge and Fivetrees for more years than anyone alive can recall. Make no mistake about it. Charm, affectations and everything else aside, Fairhurst has one goal in mind. Owning this estate. He’s been unable to do anything about it for the last two years, since there was nobody able to command its disposition. Now you’re here.”

  “I will never ever countenance parting with Wolfbridge, Giles. I may not have been here very long, but already it is lodged in my heart.” She placed a hand over her bosom in emphasis.

  “I am very glad to hear it,” smiled Giles. “I warn you simply because Sir Amery Fairhurst is a man who will use any and all devices to obtain what he wants.”

  “Then I must make sure to use any and all devices to prevent him from doing so.” She smiled back at him. “Let us come up with a plan, shall we?”

  The three of them returned to the parlour, Jeremy frowning a little as he leaned down to put another log on the fire. “I’m not sure how we can be of use, my Lady, insofar as protecting you is concerned.” He looked at Giles. “We can’t really accompany her in to dinner, can we?”

  Giles shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.” He walked to the window and stared out, while Adalyn settled into a chair by the hearth.

  “What sort of thing or action do you anticipate? Perhaps if I have an idea of that, I might be able to come up with ideas…” She tucked her shawl around her shoulders.

  “I would not be surprised if he tries to get you alone,” said Giles, his voice sombre. “Whether he would try any indelicacies upon your person…well, I wouldn’t put it past him, but perhaps not at the first time you venture onto his territory.”

  “Hmm.” She gazed at the flames, her mind turning over the issue at hand. “I will have a driver, of course,” she spoke more to herself. “And under normal circumstances, a maid would accompany me.” She thought some more. “What if…”

  Giles turned to look at her. “What if…?”

  “What if there was some reason for me to require a footman with me at all times?” She raised her eyebrows. “One could not expect anything but the most civil behaviour were a servant to be with me the entire evening.”

  “I agree on principle, but how…”

  “I think you’re right, my Lady.” Jeremy’s smile broadened. “And it’s quite simple. All you have to do is fall down.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Trick? Trick, are you here?”

  Adalyn called up toward the hayloft in the stables, trying to locate her groom. There was silence, but for the occasional whiffle from one of the horses. She had discovered she liked the scents that went along with this building, even though some were pungent now and again.

  She smiled and took pleasure in patting a curious nose or two when the residents decided to survey their new mistress. The fragrance of leather and hay were rich in her nostrils this morning as she continued her pursuit of Trick.

  “Here, Lady Adalyn.” Strong arms gave her a quick hug.

  “Oh, my Lord, Trick. You made me jump.”

  He grinned at her, unrepentant, dark eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s good to keep you on your toes, my Lady.”

  She sighed. “Well if you’re going to make a habit of it, please call me Adalyn? It sounds silly to keep the Lady Adalyn on her toes.”

  He stayed close to her, the scent of man and leather and something else that was essentially Trick teasing her nostrils. “As you wish, Adalyn.”

  Her name became a caress as he spoke it softly, a hint of soft skin, dark nights and desire.

  She felt herself sway toward him, a natural result of his mysterious, piratical appeal. Any woman would be susceptible to that look, and she was no exception.

  “What can I do for you, Adalyn?”

  She found herself fixated on his lips, full and teasing as they smiled at her. She struggled to focus on his question, whatever it had been.

  “Oh, yes. I apologise. You distracted me.”

  “Good,” he grinned without a lick of shame.

  She swallowed and widened the distance between them. “I have been asked to dinner by Sir Amery Fairhurst,” she began.

  “That bounder,” Trick swung away to hang up the tack he’d carried into the room. “Don’t trust him an inch, Adalyn.”

  “I don’t,” she answered. “Neither do Giles and Jeremy. They were present when he invited me. As was his niece Judith.”

  That brought a response. “Niece? First I’ve heard of such a relative.” He looked suspicious.

  “She’s a charming young girl, and a bundle of nerves, I think,” commented Adalyn. “And it would certainly make it easier for me to have her at the dinner table.”

  “True,” he nodded, leaning against the battered old desk and crossing his arms. “So how can I help?” He held up a hand. “Wait. We should have tea. Will you join me in my quarters, Adalyn?”

  Curiosity flooded her. “I should love to see them, Trick. You have a room in the main house, don’t you?”

  He took her arm. “I do, yes. And ’tis warm when nights get icy, as they have this winter. But there’s still my private little piece of Wolfbridge and I’d be honoured to share it with
you…”

  “Then please, show me?”

  He walked her from the tack room back outside and around to the rear of the barn where a set of wooden stairs led up to a door high on the wall.

  Making sure she didn’t trip, Trick helped her up and opened the door. “Welcome to my chambers, Adalyn.”

  Intrigued, she walked inside.

  And blinked.

  It was a large room, with light coming in from several windows at one end. There was an old fashioned fireplace complete with a pot hanger, and comfortable furniture, along with a huge bed, covered now with a thickly stuffed quilt.

  There were thick curtains and Adalyn guessed it would be snug on cold days, even though on winter nights Trick might decide to sleep in the Manor.

  “How nice this is,” she said, turning to him with a smile. “I had no idea it was here.”

  “That’s the joy of it,” he answered. “A secret place of my own. What man could ask for more?”

  She walked to the hearth. “And you can heat water…”

  “Indeed I can,” he joined her and stoked up a cheerful blaze. Swinging the large kettle over it, he stood back. “Tea shortly. A good fire warms the water like the tea warms the soul.”

  “Lovely,” she chuckled. “May I?”

  “Sit, Adalyn. Please.” He nodded as she gestured to one of the two chairs. “Now tell me about this plan of yours, because you’ve the looks of a woman who has had an idea and needs a bit of a hand with it.”

  He busied himself with teacups and saucers and opened a small cupboard to remove a jug of milk as she watched.

  Noticing her gaze, he shrugged. “There are cows. I need milk.”

  “You know how to milk a cow?” she asked out of curiosity. “I understand the association but I don’t think I could actually get a cow to part with any.”

  “You just have to know how to stroke them and make them happy,” he said. “Like all women. Stroke them with kindness and the right touch and they’ll be happy.”

  She snorted. “Are you calling women cows?”

  He blinked. “Dear God, no. That was not my intent.”

  “Good.” She laughed. “I’m glad I scared you for a moment. Turn about is fair play.”

  “I’ll make the tea then.” He seemed eager to move away from the current topic of conversation.

  Amused, Adalyn looked around once more, this time noticing one or two small paintings. While Trick juggled hot water, tea and teapot, she rose and crossed the room to look at them.

  They were, to her inexperienced eyes, quite wonderful. Two landscapes, the same place at different times of the year. One was rich with the yellow-greens and blue skies of spring, the other shone with the reds and golds of autumn, against a background of a purpling sky streaked with red-gold clouds.

  “Oh Trick. These are lovely. Who painted them?” She glanced over her shoulder at him.

  “I did,” he replied quietly.

  “You? You did these? Trick, they are amazing. You have a gift…” She looked back toward them. “Watercolours, I believe…”

  “Yes. I find them more comfortable for landscapes.”

  “Do you work in anything else?”

  “I do…” He nodded to one side of the bed, and she noticed what looked like canvases stacked up against the wall behind it.

  “May I?”

  He paused, then nodded. “Yes.”

  Rounding the bed, she sucked in a breath of air. The first one, standing in front of the others, was her.

  She sat, dropping onto the side of the bed like a stone, stunned at how he had portrayed her. A charcoal study, he’d caught her in what looked like mid-laugh, her mouth curving, her eyes looking to one side, her head turned and tilted a little as if she was answering someone.

  Her shoulders were bare, and the lines faded away at her décolletage…

  “Trick…” she whispered. “Is this me?”

  “It is,” he answered, walking around the bed and sitting beside her. “Once seen, Adalyn, a man can’t forget you or whisk you out of his mind.”

  She shook her head, eyes fixed on the portrait. “I had no idea.”

  “Of what?”

  “That I looked—like this…”

  “You are beautiful in a unique way,” he said, reaching over and running his finger down the canvas, tracing her neck and shoulder.

  She shivered, as if she could feel the touch even though it was not her real self.

  “Your features come alive when you talk of your interests, your wants, your desires…” his voice trailed off.

  “Surely not—this cannot be.” She shifted a little, tilting her head to one side. “This woman looks—confident, aware, part of something.” Adalyn frowned. “I can’t describe it.”

  “You are all those things. Did you not realise it?”

  She turned to him then, realising he was closer than she’d expected and their faces were a whisper apart. “No, Trick, I never imagined this was how you saw me.” Her eyes were drawn to his lips, full and warm, they were so near.

  Without conscious thought, she licked her own and caught his indrawn breath.

  “Adalyn,” he whispered. “I cannot help myself…”

  And with that, he closed the distance between them and gently, delicately—as if he caressed the most tender flower—kissed her. The lightest brush of his lips, but it was enough to inflame her body and send pleasurable tingles over her skin.

  She pulled back on a gasp as his hand rose to her chin.

  “Trick, oh Trick,” she whispered.

  “Please don’t be angry with me…” he cupped her face and his thumb stroked her cheek. “You are an irresistible force, Adalyn. You have an allure that is all innocence and sweetness, yet a man wonders what fires lie unawakened beneath.”

  She blinked. “You have a way with words, but I cannot believe myself worthy of them.”

  “You hush now, cariad bach,” he reprimanded gently. “You’ll not disparage yourself in my presence.” He let her go and took the canvases from her, putting them back in place. “Come. Tea’s getting cold.”

  Adalyn swallowed, fighting for composure, unsettled by his portrait of her, his revelation of what he considered her nature, and most of all, his kiss.

  She didn’t want to move, but knew she must. He walked to the table and she rose to follow him, praying her legs would not fail her.

  “Now then,” he said, seating her. “Tell me about your invitation to Fivetrees?”

  The practicality of his question jerked her thoughts back to the present moment and in some ways she was glad of it. The tea had cooled sufficiently to be perfect, and she sipped, allowing the strong brew to finish the job of returning her to her original purpose.

  “Well, as I mentioned, I’m to visit there for dinner on Friday evening. Sir Amery was quite pleasant about it, and his niece Judith is now in residence there, so the proprieties will be fully observed.”

  “But?” He raised an eyebrow. “I sense there is a ‘but’ somewhere…”

  “There is. Giles is not certain we can rely on Sir Amery to be the gentleman all evening.”

  Trick’s face hardened. “If he even thinks about laying a hand on you…”

  She shook her head. “I can’t imagine him going that far, but apparently he’s proven to be untrustworthy and with one sole aim in life.” She sighed. “He wants Wolfbridge, as you must already know. And both Giles and Jeremy believe he’ll go to any lengths to get it.”

  “The bastard,” swore Trick. “Apologies, Adalyn.”

  “No matter. I’ve thought worse,” she smiled. “But even though I’ve not seen evidence of such greed, I will accept that it’s there because Giles and Jeremy said so.”

  “Your trust is well placed,” Trick approved. “So what can I do?”

  “I would like you to help me fall down.”

  She wanted to burst out laughing at his expression. The handsome and masculine lines to his face slackened in shock and his eyes wi
dened, making him look more like a surprised young lad than the delicious seasoned man he was. “You want me to what?”

  She choked back her amusement. “Let me explain.”

  “I think you’d better.”

  “I need an excuse to have someone with me or near me at all times on Friday night. Even if he’s desperate to get his hands on Wolfbridge, Giles agrees that it would be most unlikely he’d risk any kind of scandal to achieve it. If I have a—a guardian, shall we say, by my side…it would assure my security.”

  Trick nodded. “True. He’d be unable to compromise you, or even hint at such a thing were you in the presence of one of us.”

  “Exactly. But I cannot just appear and demand my footman accompany me everywhere. Were I a dowager or someone of high ranking, I might get away with such a thing and have it marked down to the eccentricity of the very rich and powerful. But I’m not. So we must be creative and find another way.”

  Trick’s gaze narrowed. “And I’m thinking a nasty sprained ankle might be just the thing?”

  She nodded. “Hence my request for your help with my tumble.”

  He paused. “I’m going to hope you’re looking for a pretend tumble. I’ll not be part of anything that might actually result in an injury to you, Adalyn. I’ll say that straight to you.”

  “Nor would I ask it, Trick.” She resisted the urge to touch him, even though the warmth and concern in his voice had stirred something inside her. “’Twill all be pretence. I shall apparently require use of a Bath chair for a few days, or someone to assist me in moving around.”

  “Should it not be Giles or Jeremy?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face.

  “Giles thinks not. Both of them have interacted with Sir Amery on more than a few occasions. He might sense some antipathy from them, after his vain attempts to secure Wolfbridge from my predecessor.”

  “Giles has the right of it,” he agreed.

  “So given that your association with Fivetrees has been minimal, you seem to be the best candidate. He will know of you, but not your nature. And you’re a force to be reckoned with, Trick,” she grinned. “I doubt Sir Amery would wish to arouse your ire.”