WYNTHALL MANOR
Wynthall Manor Trilogy: Book 1
By Brianne E. Pryor
Copywrite © 2018 Brianne E. Pryor
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written permission of the author except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
First Printing: 2017
Second Printing: 2019
Portions of this book are works of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Magic Covers, with the exception of: page 299, top right, courtesy of Melody Simmons Graphics and Olivia Merritt Photography.
Printed in the United States of America
www.briannepryor.com
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Chapter 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
Chapter 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
Chapter 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
Chapter 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
Chapter 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
Chapter 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Chapter 7 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
Chapter 8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
Chapter 9 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91
Chapter 10 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
Chapter 11 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
Chapter 12 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 116
Chapter 13 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123
Chapter 14 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131
Chapter 15 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 140
Chapter 16 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
Chapter 17 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
Chapter 18 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
Chapter 19 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 179
Chapter 20 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
Chapter 21 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
Chapter 22 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209
Chapter 23 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215
Chapter 24 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
Chapter 25 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 229
Chapter 26 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 238
Chapter 27 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
Chapter 28 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
Chapter 29 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 262
Chapter 30 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 269
Chapter 31 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 281
Chapter 32 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289
EPILOGUE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 296
WYNTHALL MANOR TRILOGY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 299
ABOUT THE AUTHOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301
MORE BY BRIANNE E. PRYOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 303
DEDICATION
For Matthew, Kendal, & Elijah Pryor
And for Niall
“But above all these things put on love,
which is the bond of perfection”
“Weeping may endure of a night,
but joy comes in the morning”
~ Psalm 30:5
PROLOGUE
The day was just at a close, the sun falling ever too speedily behind far mountain peaks, leaving a colorful sky of pinks and purples as elongated shadows stretched over Covingdell. The warmth was uncommon for an evening early in spring when the outside world began to blossom and come to life after months of dormant cold.
Life was beginning anew in the land for all but one of its many tenets. For Eva Vastel, eldest and only daughter of the Duke of Dawcaster, life was slowly slipping away. Adorned with a crown of blond curls, twisted behind her head in a tangled arrangement of ringlets and braids, and blessed with some of the most comely features to be seen in the county, Eva was never in want of beauty, or so her father told her. Her blue eyes, he often said, looked to have been touched by the sea, calling each day to his memory vivid recollections of his late wife, whose death they had suffered for many years. It was the vague remembrance of her mother, which inhabited Eva’s mind as she strolled in the flowering gardens of Covingdell Castle in the late evening. Her steps were slow, her mind wandering to thoughts beyond the world that she knew, beyond the constant fear, which had inhabited her since the beginning of the winter when her father had taken his first fall. She recalled that day better than even the recent passing minutes.
He had seemed so out of sorts at the morning meal and it was not yet luncheon before one of the chamber maids came running from within the depths of the great house, wringing her hands and crying out that His Grace had collapsed. That day had been only the start, the beginning of a series of episodes from which the duke never seemed able to recover to his full health. The physician had informed Eva and her uncle—the only other member of her noble family—that the duke had suffered first a stroke and then an attack of the heart from which he would most likely not recover. Much to the sorrow of the region, he had been right. From that moment forward, Eva’s father began to weaken with each passing day and she knew her time with him was of precious little duration. It was this ever foreboding thought—accompanied by other unpleasantries—which Eva hoped to escape as she strolled quietly in the peaceful calm of the castle gardens.
The evening was unique in its beauty, one whose memory she hoped to carry with her as the gloomy days passed, not having any way of knowing how invaluable those treasured memories would be.
“Lady Eva. Lady Eva?” The calls of her maid disrupted Eva’s faraway thoughts, calling her back again from where her mind yearned to be as she turned to find Anna making her way down the garden paths. Having cared for Eva since she was but a child, dear Anna Martin was much like a mother to the girl, never keeping her watchful eye too far away. “Forgive my intrusion, milady,” Anna apologized, her voice cracked with age, “but His Grace is askin’ for ya.”
Eva’s countenance immediately lightened for she had not seen her father the entire day. “Thank you, Anna.” She turned quickly and hurried back toward the castle doors, anxious to speak with the duke and see how he fared.
Eva made haste throug
h the twists and turns of her illustrious home, knowing every nook and corner of its grand interior—every hidden hall and attic space within its rock walls. All the memories she cherished of her beloved childhood had taken place at Covingdell, leaving it all the more loved as it would soon be all that remained of her memories. As she climbed the staircase to the second floor, Eva found herself glancing all about her, hoping she would not meet with her uncle on the journey to her father’s quarters, though a sixth sense seemed to tell her he lurked near. Her hastened pace brought Eva to the second floor gallery quickly, mere feet from her father’s door when a voice startled her, cutting the air and striking her nerves so that she tensed.
“Going to disrupt more of your father’s precious rest? The last thing he needs is to bear your unending jabber.”
Inhaling a breath to ready herself, Eva turned to face the hateful glare of Lord Alexander Vastel, her father’s younger brother by many years.
“He sent for me, Uncle,” she answered carefully, fearing his further displeasure, though determined not to wither beneath the dark stare of his brown eyes, hidden behind a furrowed brow so filled with hatred, it seemed to penetrate her.
Alexander scoffed haughtily, his disapproving demeanor and angry addresses plunging into her heart so that she disliked him more still. From her infancy, he had seemed forever displeased with her, as though she was inevitably underfoot. Her sheer presence seemed to disgust him, and even now, he took the passing moment to ridicule her. “What did I tell you about exhausting his strength, Eva?” Alexander’s gruff bark startled his niece from her thoughts, which she now realized prevented her from seeing his approach out of one of the dark side halls.
“Forgive me, but what does the time I spend with my father have to do with you, Uncle?” Eva’s tone surprised her for it was not the manner of a lady to reproach her elders in such a way, yet there was none who antagonized her as Alexander did. He knew of her father’s condition and yet he reproached her for wanting to spend precious moments with him.
“How dare you take that tone with me!” Alexander snapped, his voice sending cold chills through his niece. Eva stood her ground though she was forced to restrain herself from recoiling. “You deny me the right to spend his last days with my father. Surely you must see that—”
“I deny you nothing!” Now she could not help but step back, her uncle’s angry bark striking fear within her, an angry step bringing his looming form nearer. “Your disturbing him when he could be resting only shortens his hours on this earth. If he dies tonight, it will be because you claimed every ounce of strength he has left!” Her uncle accused her with a pointed finger, his voice so bold that it seemed to shake his entire body.
His thoughtless words angered Eva, the knowledge that she could do nothing to prevent them being said causing her to despair. With no hope of defeating his harsh character, Eva slowly moved around Alexander, having no intention of continuing the unruly conversation. “Excuse me, Uncle Alex, but I’ve no wish to argue the matter.”
Without another word, Eva went on her way toward her father’s bedchamber, her tense body longing to be out of her uncle's sight. Alexander Vastel had passed the greater part of his eight and thirty years at Covingdell, coming and going as he pleased, doing whatever deed that might satisfy his own desires, and seeing that his conduct slip past the watchful eye of his disapproving elder brother, nearly eighteen years his senior. During his lifetime of residency in the home of the duke, Alexander had been the source of much displeasure and a light of fear that was lit within his brother’s only child and heiress to all he possessed.
Attempting to strike her uncle from her mind, Eva reached the doors of the solar rooms, where the master of the house kept his bedchamber. Pausing momentarily to compose herself before knocking gently, Eva laid her knuckles to the door.
“Come in, child.” Her father’s voice was low and strained, a tone she had grown accustomed to over the past months. Eva quietly opened one of the large doors, reaching almost to the high ceiling, and stepped inside her father’s warm bedroom, where a small fire danced in the fireplace. Lamps were lit throughout the front and back chambers, providing light for the duke who sat up within the comforts of his large canopied bed, an empty dinner tray still on his lap.
The moment his exhausted eyes laid on his daughter, they brightened. He stretched out his hand toward her as a kind smile grew on his lined face. “Come, my dear. I’ve not seen you all day.”
Eva approached her father’s bedside and took his chilled hand in hers, trying to warm it while she was given the chance. “I did not want to disturb you, Father.” She gave her reasons for not coming to him sooner. “Uncle Alex scolded me for staying too long last night.”
Her father’s face instantly clouded. “Never mind what Alexander says. I’ll go to your quarters and seek you out lest you come here and he’d better know it.”
The corner of Eva’s mouth turned up in a half smile as she looked down at the white sheets. “Perhaps he means well, Father.”
The duke scoffed, “Means well, does he? I sometimes wonder what it is he means—not well though, I’m sure of that. But never mind your indignant uncle, tell me how you are today.”
“I’m very well.” Eva smiled though her father saw through her facade. “You’re troubled. Not worrying about me now, are you?”
Eva sighed admittedly. “I can’t help myself, Father. You’re not well. I can’t help but worry for you.” The duke sighed heavily.
“Unwell I might be, but life is fleeting, my dear. You can not live it filled with worry and regret, fearing every moment that is to come, for it will come whether you dread it or not.”
Eva nodded sorrowfully, knowing what her father meant. “I know you are right, Father, but you’re all I have in this world. I’ve no mother nor brothers or sisters. If it were not for you, I’d be all alone.”
The duke squeezed his daughter’s hand. “You are never alone, my dear. No matter where in the world you might be, I shall always be with you—you know that.”
Eva nodded. “I do.”
“Then let us resolve to think only happy thoughts of the future, my dear girl. No more worrying.”
Eva nodded in agreement, though she knew that inwardly she disobeyed him, for she could not stop herself from worrying over the future—of a time when she feared she would lose the thing she cherished most. “Tell me about your day, child,” her father commanded, laying the dinner tray to his side so that he could lean back against the feather pillows.
Eva looked down and sighed wearily. “There was not much to it, I’m afraid. We received an invitation to a ball from Lord and Lady Dumont. Of course, I wrote them with our regrets. You can’t possibly attend and I shan’t go alone.”
The duke nodded in approval and then chuckled, “I suspect that Lord and Lady Dumont have much to gain by you and I in attendance.”
Eva frowned thoughtfully at her father. “How so?”
“Young Henry Dumont has had his eye on you for some time now, I’d wager. And a fine prospect he’d make at that.”
Eva’s attempt to hide her daunted expression failed and caused her father to smile. “Ah, you disapprove.”
“No, sir,” Eva answered immediately. “The Dumonts are fine people and I have long thought of Henry as a dear friend, but to become more than that...”
To Eva’s surprise, her father nodded. “In our acquaintance, there are eligible young men of plenty. I would not have you marry the first to set his eyes on you.”
Eva smiled gratefully at her father, who had never been insistent upon her finding a mate at a young age as most women were accustomed to. He had resolved to let her pick the one with whom she wished to spend the rest of her life rather than force her into a marriage that would cause her unhappiness. Though he vowed to let her choose her partner in life, there was no way for Eva to know the worry that affected her father by her unmarried state as his final days approached, and he faced leaving his only daughter al
one in the world.
The duke knew his condition perhaps better than the doctors. He knew he was slowly dying away; his weakened heart giving out after nearly sixty years. He remembered his younger days, days when he went out clad for battle, leading his charging men without a fear of neither sword nor musket. In the years of his youth, he faced the prospect of death with courage and a hint of excitement, but no longer. Now he had more than just himself to fret over. He could no longer laugh in death’s face and take whatever fate dealt him with honor and nobility. No, now he had his most cherished possession to leave behind unprotected in the face of a demanding role.
Upon his death, Eva would inherit her father’s peerage and become the Duchess of Dawcaster in her own right, a fact that caused great tension between John and his brother. Alexander looked upon the matter with much insistence that only a man could hold such a title, and without a son, his brother should consider himself without an heir. The duke had little faith that his younger brother would make an effort to aid his niece when she was left with no one. He only hoped that Alexander would leave her be after his passing. That he would not try to overrule her and take the role upon himself to rule the region over the head of his entitled niece. If only he and his wife had not failed to raise a son who could protect himself against the greedy demands of his uncle unlike what her father could expect from Eva.
“Good night, Father, I’ll come see you in the morning.” Eva bid her father goodbye after many hours of conversation, seeing that he was growing very weary.
“Good night, my dear. Sleep well tonight.”
Eva placed a gentle kiss on her father’s cold cheek before leaving him to his rest, hoping that she would not cross paths with her uncle on the way to her room. The lamps in the halls had not yet been turned down, leaving Eva a lighted path. She knew that Anna would be waiting there to help her ready herself for bed as she always was. Being the daughter of a duke had its advantages, but tonight those seemed very few as Eva recalled the lines beneath her father’s eyes. Despite the comfort he took in passing on his peerage, Eva knew that no money or title could take his place or ease the grief her heart would feel to lose him—a day she knew was growing ever nearer.
Wynthall Manor- The Wynthall Manor Trilogy Page 1