Lady Adalyn (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 1) by Sahara Kelly (latest ebook reader TXT) 📕

Daringly, he winked. “Here we are, my Lady.” The overstuffed chair by the fire was the obvious place for a lady with a broken ankle. “Now, let Jeremy here take a look at your injury.”

There was a tiny noise outside the door, and she guessed whoever was there listened to the conversation. So as Jeremy began to untie the laces on her damaged boot, she managed a quick sound of pain.

“My Lady,” said Jeremy, also a bit louder than usual. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you? I must remove your boot…”

“No…no,” she said plaintively, managing a little quiver. “It is tender though. My fault entirely.”

Giles leaned over. “There is some swelling, there,” he said, his voice firm. “I shall fetch tea, Ma’am, and perhaps some cold cloths will help.”

“That would be lovely, Giles, thank you.” Adalyn allowed her voice to fade away, in contrast to the wide smile crossing her face at the play-acting.

“Now, my Lady, let’s see if we can make you more comfortable.”

As Giles left the room, Jeremy removed her boot and cradled her foot in his hands. It was quiet but for the crackling of the logs in the fireplace.

“I should remove your stocking.” His fingers danced over her calf and upward.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, you should.”

Her dress moved as his hand kept its northward journey, finding the ties to her garter and pulling them free. But instead of pulling down the white stocking, he moved closer and touched her thigh, bare and sensitive, running his fingertips over it until she squirmed, the delicious sensation both shocking and arousing.

Kneeling beside her chair, Jeremy locked his gaze on her face as he touched her, reaching the top of her thigh as she gasped.

“Don’t close your eyes, Adalyn,” he whispered. “Just feel…”

And her breath all but left her lungs as he found his way between her thighs to the soft hair and the damp, heated folds of flesh beneath.

“Jeremy,” she whispered as his blue eyes remained fixed on hers. “Oh, Jeremy…”

The strangest feelings made her shiver, her pulse raced, and she found it hard to restrain herself from parting her legs to encourage his plundering fingers…

But the clink of dishes recalled them both, and Jeremy pulled away, straightening her skirts and resting her foot on a low stool. “There we are, my Lady. Are you more comfortable?”

“No,” she breathed. “But my ankle is fine, thank you.”

The desire in his eyes as he caught her response threatened to overset her completely, so she blinked and looked away.

Giles appeared with the tea tray just in time and Adalyn settled with tea and blankets, feeling rather pampered and enjoying it even though it came under false pretences.

A short while later, he returned with an envelope in his hand. “There is a message, my Lady. From Fivetrees.”

Raising her eyebrows in surprise, she took the missive and unfolded the letter inside. “’Tis from Sir Amery. He has heard of my accident—goodness that was fast,” she flashed an amused glance at Jeremy, “and he wonders if I am well enough to join them this evening, or whether I would rather postpone until a more convenient time.”

“Ha.” Jeremy snorted. “What he means is a better time for him to try and seduce her into marriage.”

“That’s as may be, but it does tell us he knows of our little performance.” Adalyn turned to Giles. “I think we should thank him for his concern, but assure him I am well enough to dine with him, although I may leave a little early.” She shrugged. “Will that do, do you think?”

Giles smiled. “Very nicely indeed, my Lady. Very nicely indeed.”

~~~~~

It seemed that Adalyn had barely finished her tea, and enjoyed a light lunch—appropriate for a lady recovering from an injury—when it was time to consider her attire for her evening’s outing.

Thanks to her attentive gentlemen, her wardrobe was expanding, slowly but surely. So for this evening she had chosen a dark grey heavy silk, modestly cut, with long sleeves and a lovely piece of beadworked embroidery on the bodice. There was a white lace chemise to cover her décolletage, tied with a matching grey ribbon at her neck and the cuffs were edged with the same white lace.

It was elegant, suitable for her status as a widow since she preferred not to wear black, and clearly not the kind of gown a woman would wear to entice anyone.

Her shoes were dark and sensible, and one ankle swathed in a bulge of bandages beneath her stocking. A smart cane completed her ensemble, and she had taken half an hour out of her toilette to learn how to walk with it and not look too silly.

Jeremy had come to her aid, since this gown laced at the back.

She knew that this was a man who made his feelings clear, not by words so much as by deeds.

He’d pinned her hair for her, tidying the loose strands and while doing so she felt the slightest touch of his lips on her neck.

Her shiver of delight had made him smile, but he said nothing, simply turning to the gown and lacing it over the chemise. If his hands brushed her now and again, well, accidents will happen. She leaned back to see if any more might occur.

He was so close to her that the merest breath would bring their bodies together and she could not help taking that breath, finding his warmth a comfort.

“Will you be all right, tonight, Adalyn?”

She let herself relax fully against him. “Trick will be there, Jeremy. Of course I’ll be all right.”

“I hope so.” He turned them to her mirror. “You are so beautiful. How will Sir Amery be able to restrain his impulses?”

“The only thing he wants from me is Wolfbridge. My beauty, such as it is, has nothing to do with it.”

“You are wrong.” His arms slid around her and she watched him touch his lips to her shoulder. “Your beauty