The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2) Sahara Kelly (book club recommendations TXT) 📖

“I know,” said Evan gloomily. He looked at Royce. “What about you and I take him down to the river and see if he can swim underwater?”

“With us sitting on him?”

“That would work, yes.”

“Gentlemen.” Giles raised a hand. “I say again. We cannot afford to act in an ill-advised fashion, much as I endorse your sentiments. Consider for a moment the problems that would arise were my Lady’s stepson’s body discovered this close to her current residence?”

Jeremy pouted. “Good point, but I’m still in favour of my idea.”

“Be that as it may…”

Everyone looked up as the sound of a carriage pulling up in front of Wolfbridge interrupted Giles.

“Hmm,” he said, glancing at the clock. “Ten minutes early.” He walked to the door. “Excuse me for a moment? I will return shortly.”

“Well.” Gwyneth blinked. “I wonder what that’s all about?”

Royce moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside. “It’s a travelling carriage. Looks as if there’s been a few miles logged on it today…” He leaned as far as he could. “Only one passenger I think…I can’t see from here.”

Silence fell, the clock ticked, and Evan sighed. “More tea, anyone?”

Five minutes later, the door opened and Giles returned. But this time, he was not alone.

Accompanying him was a woman, a stunningly breathtaking woman that had each man rising as she walked in, and Gwyneth struggling to sit up.

“Please. Stay as you were,” said Giles, leading his guest to a chair, and seating her. “I would like to introduce you to a very dear and special lady.”

He turned to her and Gwyneth saw the expression on his face as he looked at her. It shook her to her very core.

Giles was in love with her.

It was written so clearly he might as well have yelled it to the rafters.

And she looked back at him with the same doting expression.

“Giles…?” said Gwyneth, a question in her voice.

“Forgive me,” said Giles, his smile much warmer than usual. “My Lady, I have the honour of presenting Madame Ionie Summerfield. Ionie, this is Gwyneth, the Lady of Wolfbridge.”

Madame Summerfield stood and dropped a graceful curtsey to Gwyneth. “I am delighted to meet you, my Lady. I hope you’ll forgive my unannounced arrival, but Giles gave me some quite strict instructions to that effect…”

Her voice was soft and lilting, with a slight accent Gwyneth couldn’t place. But her smile was genuine and Gwyneth found herself smiling back. “I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame. Please excuse me for not standing, but there was a trivial incident this morning, and I’m temporarily incapacitated.”

Ionie’s brows met in a frown and she glanced at Giles, who merely shrugged.

“You are well, my Lady?”

“I was stabbed, Madame. Nothing serious.”

“Ah.” Taken aback, she resumed her seat, her eyes wide. “I will never understand the English. You are all so calm about matters that would make us scream and shriek to the skies.”

Giles grinned. “I know that for a fact.”

Royce came over to her. “I’m Royce, Ma’am. Estate manager. And Jeremy here is our head footman, and helps serve the amazing foods prepared by Evan, our chef.”

“Cook.” Evan raised an eyebrow at him.

“Cook, chef…any way you title him, he creates wonderful meals.” Royce gestured to Gabriel. “And this is Gabriel. He does pretty much everything else.”

Ionie extended her hand to Gabriel, her unusual eyes fixed on his face.

They were almost gold, realised Gwyneth, especially when the light caught them a certain way. Set into her incredible features, a skin several shades darker than usual and raven black hair piled high, Ionie was a stunning beauty. And she’d mesmerised Gabriel, who approached and knelt at her feet.

“Madame,” he murmured. “Je suis enchanté.” He took her hand and kissed it.

She touched his hair, then slid her elegant fingers to his chin and raised it. “You are different, my child. Your future is not what you think it is. But trust in your heart, little angel. It will not be easy, but trust in your heart.”

Gabriel rose, his cheeks flushed. “Er, yes, Ma’am. Of course.” A look of confusion crossed his face as he returned to his seat.

“Forgive me,” Ionie raised a hand to her eyes. “Sometimes…I see…”

“Hush now.” Giles rested on the arm of her chair and put a protective hand on her shoulder.

“So, if I may make so bold as to ask…what brings you here to Wolfbridge?”  Gwyneth’s question bridged the somewhat awkward silence.

Ionie smiled upward at Giles. “This man, my Lady. This man.”

“Giles?” Gwyneth turned a questioning eyebrow toward him again. “There’s something you’ve not been telling us, I believe.”

“So many things, my Lady,” he quipped with a smile. “But yes, in this instance you’re correct. And although I would have loved to share the story, until recently it was not in my power to do so.”

“But if you can now, please do.”

“I will. ’Tis not a long tale. I met Ionie nearly twenty-five years ago when I was in Jamaica.”

His words drew everyone’s attention and surprised looks greeted his statement. “My parents sent me out to get some worldly experience with a plantation owner, a business associate of my father who told him to send me and he’d show me the ropes.”

“What an amazing trip that must have been,” murmured Evan.

“It was, lad. It was. I loved Jamaica. The sun, the heat, the colours…”

“The rum,” added Jeremy with his irrepressible grin.

“That too, yes,” nodded Giles. “But I didn’t know what love was until a young servant walked in the door with an armful of flowers.”

“Madame Ionie?” asked Gabriel.

“I was just Ionie then. A house slave, nothing more.”

“You were a slave?” Gwyneth could scarcely believe it.

“I was. And