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

except when she dared step out of the role of helpless female and into what you perceive as your bailiwick.”

Ruefully, Royce chuckled. “You’re most likely right. It seems I am learning about a few of my own attitudes along with learning how to be a Wolfbridge gentleman.”

“It is the same for all of us. Especially you, Royce. You’ve been independent for many years. This is an about-face for you. And I’m sure there will be more challenges along the way.” Giles watched as Royce rose with a nod. “Just remember that she has been badly treated. Very badly treated. She’s presently finding her way back to a semblance of her old self. What we hope is that she bases her new self on that and the confidence we give her. It will be interesting to see the woman she becomes.”

“It will indeed.” Royce turned for the door. “Thank you, Giles. In case I forget to mention it—which may happen since I’m likely to be hit with a brick in the not too distant future—I do value your wisdom and counsel.”

Giles grinned. “I will make a note to have all loose bricks removed from her Ladyship’s vicinity.”

“Much appreciated.”

This conversation lingered in Giles’s mind for several days, and he made a point to observe Gwyneth as she interacted with her gentlemen. He was looking for something, a hint of the steel that Royce believed to be lurking beneath her delicate exterior.

She was certainly recovered now. Her face and her body had filled out enough to render her a delight to the eye. She held herself with more confidence and smiled more often. Her short curly hair gave her a pixie-like appearance, which she apparently recognised, and used. The occasional silk flower appeared, tucked in amongst the soft curls, and she favoured gowns in fabrics that drifted around her legs and feet as she walked.

The Wolfbridge wardrobes held several generations worth of garments, and the village seamstresses always enjoyed creating something for the Lady of the Manor. Often he would take an older, out of fashion garment to the and let them use it as they willed. He was never disappointed, and thus far there had been no complaints from any of the Ladies.

The latest of her new acquisitions, a peach and ivory lace creation, both flattered her complexion and gave her the illusion of height. She seemed satisfied and confident as she left the breakfast room and headed for the small study she had adopted as her own.

For a few days she had been moving things around, and he could not fault her desire for a place to work, to read and one which was exclusively hers. But Royce was still finding it hard to share some of the Wolfbridge correspondence, even though it was addressed to the Lady of the Manor.

She had just emerged when the front door knocker echoed loudly around the hall.

Giles walked over and opened it.

“Good day to you. I am here to visit the Dowager Countess Kilham? I believe she is residing here now.”

A man stood there, staring at Giles, driving gloves in his hand, and a smart carriage at the bottom of the steps. About to answer, Giles’s words were forestalled.

“Goodness, is it really you? Baron Randschen?” Gwyneth hurried to the door, her hand extended in welcome. “How ever did you find me?”

“Ah, my dear Countess. So very lovely, as ever.”

The bow was low, the kiss on the knuckles warmly affectionate, and Giles felt every hackle on the back of his neck stand up in protest.

“My Lady?” He glanced at Gwyneth who was wreathed in smiles.

“I know this gentleman, Giles.” She turned to the stranger. “My Lord, if you will permit me, I’d like to make you known to Giles, officially my butler, but unofficially the man who takes care of Wolfbridge. Giles, this is Margrave Randschen, a friend of mine, though I’m told that here in England, the title of Baron is appropriate…?”

“Correct as always, my Lady.”

Randschen smiled as Giles bowed, stepped back, and ushered him in to the Manor. “Welcome, my Lord,” he said politely, accepting the hat and gloves handed to him.

The Baron’s eyes wandered rapidly around the hall as he turned to Gwyneth and took her hand once again. “Such a pleasant house,” he said, approval in his tone. “You must tell me how it is that you are here, my dear. I looked for you at Kilham, but nobody seemed to know where you had gone…”

Giles watched them chatting casually as Gwyneth led him to the parlour. She glanced back at Giles. “Tea, I think, Giles? If you could let Jeremy know…”

Giles bowed. “Of course, my Lady.”

“Your servants are most efficient, my dear.” The Baron’s smile was…unsettling. “They must be so grateful for the chance to serve such a lovely lady as yourself.”

Giles didn’t hear Gwyneth’s response, since he was on his way to find Jeremy. Something about the Baron bothered Giles. A feeling, a sensation of unease—whenever that occurred, trouble tended to arrive in its wake.

Giles would take no chances. Old friend or not, the Lady must be protected at all costs. It remained to be seen whether she would need such protection, but if she did, it would be there.

They would be there. Because that’s what the gentlemen did.

*~~*~~*

“How did you locate me, sir?” Gwyneth settled herself in her chair as the Baron moved to the window and looked out.

A slight frown crossed his handsome face. “The staff at Kilham were not helpful, I am sad to say. And they mentioned something about the Dower House. But as I left, a maid came up to me and revealed that she’d seen a carriage leaving there some time before. She believed you might have been in it, since the Dower House was empty and near collapse. A few enquiries