The Rightful Lord (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 3) by Sahara Kelly (13 ebook reader .TXT) 📕

She sighed then, a long breath releasing pain she hadn’t even realised she carried with her. “Thank you, Harry. Thank you for putting my mind and my heart to rest. Something I never knew I wanted quite so much. Now I can think of him with nothing but happiness and truly mourn his loss. And ours.”

“Then you can settle the past to where it should be in your heart.”

“That’s…absolutely right.” Gwyneth leaned her head back against his shoulder. “A very profound statement.”

“I have my moments.”

She dashed a gloved hand over damp cheeks and managed a little smile. “I don’t know you that well, but I’m inclined to agree with that, most wholeheartedly.”

“Wait until you know me better,” he grinned at her.

That grin, that quirk of his lips and the slight imp of mischief dancing in his eyes—she was charmed. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you’re so slender,” he groaned a little as he stretched out one leg. “Because this grass is damned hard. Not to mention damp.”

“Oh…” She moved quickly. “I didn’t think.” Struggling to her feet, she found herself caught in his arms again. He stood quickly and helped her sort out her skirts before she snagged her boot in them.

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing off his backside. “And for the pleasure of holding you, my Lady, the damp seat is worth it.”

This, realised Gwyneth, was the moment. “Harry, there’s much you should know about Wolfbridge.” She straightened and checked her bonnet, tugging it back into place. “One of the most important things is the informality of our lives here.”

“I noticed that the other men use your Christian name now and again, and that you all dine together,” he answered noncommittally.

“Yes, we do, and I use theirs. We are, for a variety of reasons, more of a family unit than a household.” She accepted his arm as they began to walk once more. “But there is more, and it has to do with Wolfbridge itself.”

So she told him the story of Aphrodite, the first mistress, her troubles and how she came to entail the property to Wolfbridge descendants, women who were in dire need of help.

“I was one of the women. When Giles found me I was…well, as good as dead. Almost.” She shook her head. “A story for another day. But as I healed, I learned that Wolfbridge is about giving. Giving sanctuary, giving health, giving joy to life and giving love to each other.” She took a breath. “It’s motto is Illuminabit ad te.”

“Bring light unto thyself.” He translated the Latin immediately.

Gwyneth nodded in approval. “Exactly.” She kept her gaze on the countryside. “And Wolfbridge is about giving that light as love and joy in all the ways there are. Because in that giving, we all receive, and our lives are brightened by each other.”

“Ah.”

They walked on, their footsteps clear in the silence that had fallen between them.

“So you see,” continued Gwyneth, unsure now whether he’d understood the inference. “It is a very unusual estate with unique occupants. But we are all linked in one way or another. We have left our pasts behind us, yes, but mostly we are connected by the joy and pleasure we give and take from each other.”

He gently pulled her to a standstill. “I believe I understand, Gwyneth,” he said softly. “One cannot miss the deep affections of the other men when it comes to yourself, and even the profound friendships that bond them all together.” His hair blew in the breeze and he brushed it aside. “If I am to stay, which I pray may be the case, would I also be allowed to offer you my affections?”

She smiled then, knowing he understood. “Should you wish to, then yes. I would welcome them.”

Their gazes met, Gwyneth facing Harry with confidence, now that there were few secrets left for him to discover.

“In that case…”

It was inevitable, she knew, and she eagerly parted her lips as he dropped her arm and cupped her cheeks. Leaning down, he touched her mouth gently, then licked along the seam, encouraging her to admit him.

His taste was different, but wonderful, and without hesitation, she deepened the kiss. His tongue darted in, learning her slick surfaces, teasing and withdrawing, only to thrust again.

One arm encircled her as the other slid to her neck and moved her head to where he could best devour her. A groan that began just below her knees made its way to her throat and she sighed it into his mouth as they finally drew apart.

“Oh my,” she whispered, touching her lips with a finger.

“My thoughts exactly,” grinned Harry. “I must say, if you’ll allow me the liberty, I’m damned glad I agreed to stay.”

She couldn’t help an answering chuckle, and as they retraced their steps, she squeezed his arm. “Me too.”

Chapter Seven

Journal of Gwyneth, Lady of Wolfbridge - October 1818

How fast the time flies here, even though we are well-isolated from the hustle and bustle of life. We do receive newspapers now and again, and both Royce and Harry communicate with others outside our little domain. The estate’s business must be tended to, and with the influx of capital I have been able to contribute—thanks to the demise of my villainous stepson—we are in good heart.

So we face the winter season knowing that our tenants are well-protected and that there will be an adequate supply of food and grain. There are a few new barns, so even the herds can seek shelter if the weather turns bad. I like to know about such things, since I am the Lady and have responsibilities to those who rely on Wolfbridge for their livelihood. In addition, Mrs Barnsley has no hesitation in telling me if anyone is in need or troubled, so we’ve been able to