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as an orphanage?”

“A what?”

“An orphanage.” She swallowed, watching his eyebrows draw together in a frown. “You know. The place where children go who have no parents to take care of them.”

“I’m familiar with what an orphanage is, my Lady,” he rebuked her gently. “It’s just the idea of starting one that I find somewhat unusual.”

“It was merely a suggestion,” she answered. “And I realise that there are many financial considerations to take into account. But overall, I think buying it for Wolfbridge would be a very good idea.”

“I cannot argue with you there.”

She looked past him to the building she now called home. “I can’t help thinking of men like Sir Alfred Gylbart. Of the horrific things he’s done. And the threat of him buying Fivetrees and setting up another of his disgusting establishments…I don’t think I could stomach it, Royce. Truly I don’t.” She shuddered at the idea.

“Gylbart is as loathsome an animal as there is.” Royce’s features hardened. “And I endorse your sentiments. If he were to purchase Fivetrees and turn it into what would be little better than a brothel for obscene activities…”

“Exactly.”

“Let me give it some thought, my Lady?” He looked at her, his handsome face serious. “I must take an accounting of our finances and then look at the state of Fivetrees. We might gain from the knowledge that although Trick and Jane are taking good care of it, there is probably work needed. It doesn’t sound as if Sir Amery cared very much for anything other than the status brought by owning the estate.”

Remembering the late Lord Fairhurst, the original owner, Gwyneth could only nod her agreement.

“I need to speak with Giles about this as well.”

Gwyneth smiled at the mention of Royce’s predecessor. “He will certainly have plenty of advice, I’m sure. And he was Miss Fairhurst’s guardian before she married, so I’ll wager there is still plenty of contact between them.”

“Yes, that’s also helpful.” Royce straightened. “Very well. Give me perhaps a week or so and I will have details in hand.”

“Do not let this take you away from your other duties, Royce, please?” Gwyneth touched his arm. “I know you’re busy on our behalf all the time…”

He smiled at her, not realising how the expression turned his features into something breathtakingly handsome. “I won’t.”

Gwyneth struggled to remember what they were talking about and also struggled against the urge to bring that face to hers and kiss it thoroughly.

As if he guessed, he leaned forward and let his lips touch hers for a brief instant.

Then he smiled once more and reached up to gently flick her nose. “Don’t tempt me, my Lady. There are things I want too, that have nothing to do with Fivetrees.”

Then he turned away, leaving Gwyneth with a heartbeat that threatened to choke her and an aching need that travelled through her from her eyebrows to her toes.

Chapter Three

Journal of Gwyneth, Lady of Wolfbridge - October 1818

It has been quite some time since I wrote here, and I feel rather guilty in not keeping these pages up to date. This might well be a journal that future ladies of Wolfbridge are given upon their acceptance of the title. 

I wonder if they will experience such stunning events? I wonder if their gentlemen will offer the comfort and love needed upon those occasions?

I must explain.

Late in the summer, we were shocked and appalled to find a young woman literally thrown at our feet. Gabriel and I were gardening when the carriage drove up, tossed out a poorly wrapped bundle, and left post haste.

Inside the bundle? Jeremy’s old love, Susanna Brockford. There are no words that can truly describe the sad state of this poor young woman. The signs of violent and vicious abuse were right before our eyes, and although she regained consciousness long enough to recognise Jeremy, it was not long after that her soul left us.

Our sadness was profound, our grief painful.

For Jeremy…well, I cannot comprehend what he went through as he held her hand, watching her pass away before his eyes.

He had loved her, he confessed to us later. But she had left him, somewhat callously, and the affection he had cherished faded away with the passage of time and her absence.

This event, and the shadows it raised, has hung over Wolfbridge for several weeks. It has only been recently that we’ve all felt our spirits begin to recover. Evan has spared nothing to help his friend through this time, preparing meals he knows Jeremy favours and spending as much time with him as he can. All of us, in fact, have made sure that no attention is lacking, no hug or caress left unadministered.

For my part, I have been sure to welcome Jeremy with open arms whenever he comes to my chamber at night. But as of now, our hours together are spent either talking or sleeping. It appears he needs the solace of being loved, more for emotional purposes than physical.

In fact, all my men have been in the same kind of state; Evan and Gabriel are always ready to satisfy me, but even they have enjoyed nights where we simply cuddle.

For myself? I find I am quite in tune with this; I love their attentions; I love the touches and caresses and erotic moments that drive me to that magnificent peak of passion. But I have discovered I can manage very well without it, especially when the house is labouring to get past such a tragic event.

So I am praying that each day we will take one more step down the path to normalcy, such as it is here at Wolfbridge.

To that end, I spoke recently to Royce about my wish to purchase Fivetrees and add it to the Wolfbridge lands. Is this ambitious? Yes, probably. But it would

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