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to it.”

Jane just shook her head. “Ma hasn’t quite learned to moderate her speech, my Lady.”

“And I hope she doesn’t.” Gwyneth turned to Mrs Barnsley. “I have always believed that a good solid and honest opinion is worth gold. I anticipate, given your history with this area and the people in it, I’ll be able to rely on yours.”

“Any time, m’Lady. Yer can pop over ter my cottage an’ I’ll make yer a cuppa. Might ‘ave some o’ that gooseberry pie young Evan craves, too.” She grinned.

Gwyneth found her conversational abilities returning. She’d had more than a few such visitors when she became the Countess of Kilham, and discovered that she much enjoyed the down-to-earth way matters were discussed. These were the people who gave life and meaning to the grand estates. She had never too proud to ask their help, their thoughts and their feelings. That wasn’t her way.

“So tell me, how is Wolfbridge faring? Are we thriving? Do we need to grow, to change anything? What lies ahead for this year?”

Jane blinked. “Those are big questions, my Lady. Should they not be directed to…er…I believe it’s Mr Royce who’s taken over from Daniel as estate manager?”

Gwyneth nodded. “Yes, Royce is now dealing with all that. But he’s as recently arrived as I am, so I’m more than happy to ask for your ideas.”

Nothing loth, both the Barnsley women dived right in, chatting away with Gwyneth, offering their thoughts, discussing and even arguing now and again, when Jane’s more progressive suggestions clashed with her mother’s.

For Gwyneth, it was an amazing and delightful experience. She was able to relax, listen and learn. Much of what she heard meant little, but she didn’t ignore it, with the understanding that she was now in control of Wolfbridge. Even the smallest detail, right down to young Bess Martin’s adventures with the piglets…it might all be important in one way or another.

“Yer tired, Ma’am,” said Mrs Barnsley, her eyes on Gwyneth’s face. “And yer not quite yerself yet. ‘Ere we are natterin’ on when yer should be in yer bed.”

Jane rose immediately. “Indeed, my Lady. My mother is right. Please excuse us for keeping you from your rest.”

Gwyneth smiled. “Silly ladies. I have derived much enjoyment from our conversation. Yes, I’m tired and I confess I will probably nap for a while, but my strength is returning apace, so please consider yourself welcome at any time.” She looked at Jane. “I understand you were a help to Lady Adalyn, Jane. Now that you are at Fivetrees, it presumably won’t be possible to continue that service, but any recommendations would be welcome.”

“I’ll think on it, my Lady. And thank you.” She curtseyed.

“Pity, that,” said Mrs Barnsley. “But we’ll find yer someone if’n yer need, never worry.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Jeremy, who must have been eavesdropping, walked in to stand by her side. “I was about to ask if you wanted tea, but I see the ladies are on their way…”

“Get this one ter bed, Jeremy.” Mrs Barnsley eyed him. “None ‘o yer nonsense now.”

He bent over Gwyneth, his arm ready to help her rise. “She is our Lady, Mrs B. Of course there will be no nonsense.” He shot Gwyneth a wicked grin. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Cheeky.” Mrs Barnsley tsk’d at him.

Gwyneth laughed and let Jeremy walk her to the door. “Thank you both for coming. It’s been a most enjoyable time for me. Please feel free to visit again? Perhaps with one of those gooseberry pies?”

The two ladies left smiling, and Gwyneth let Jeremy guide her upstairs to her room. “I hate to have to go to bed again,” she groaned. “It seems as if my entire year has been spent there.”

“Hmm.” Jeremy looked around. “Well, suppose we try this…” He pulled the upholstered chair from the side of the bed over to the window that faced the rear gardens and the woods beyond. “If we put this here…” he followed his movements by picking up a footstool and placing it in front of the chair. “And now, with a couple of these…” he tugged the blankets from the bed, “I believe you might rest, and possibly nap, and yet not be formally in bed.”

She blinked. “Jeremy, you’re brilliant.”

“I like to think so,” he joked. “Just as long as you’re comfortable, my Lady.” He settled her, lifted her legs onto the footstool and draped the blankets over her.

“Oh yes, this is lovely. I can watch the birds,” she sighed, her eyes going to the window. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lady,” he touched her hand. “Anything you need—let me know.” He lifted it and kissed it then turned it over, pressing a daring kiss on her palm. His gaze was hot and intense. “Anything.”

She blinked at him, a delicious warmth creeping over her tired limbs. “I will, Jeremy. I promise.”

“Good.” He grinned and left her.

Chapter Fourteen

Each and every day, Gwyneth found herself gaining in strength; she could almost see the flesh returning to her arms and legs, and no longer did her ribs protrude, or her hip bones stand out sharply from the rest of her.

She complimented Evan on his cooking, knowing that he must have spent quite some time carefully selecting menus and ingredients with the sole purpose of enticing her to eat.

She was now able to move around unescorted, although she observed that one of her gentlemen always seemed to be within earshot. Apparently they didn’t really trust her newly discovered abilities quite yet. But one morning, she decided to venture into the kitchens, and thank Evan again. She was also interested to see where he worked and what secrets the Wolfbridge kitchens might hold.

Evan was at the sink, peeling something, and he looked up as she entered. “My Lady,” he quickly dried his hands. “What can

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