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

nodded. “He claimed he would be on his way to stay with them after seeing Fivetrees,” she confirmed. “So we know where he is. Just not what he’s up to.”

Royce turned the conversation. “Did any of you find out anything pertaining to our search for information about Susanna?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Harry and I both asked around, in a very general fashion, but other than one or two people remembering her from church, we learned nothing.”

“We did finish several of the trusses for the extension roof, however.” Harry stretched his arms. “And I learned I’m getting a little older than I thought I was.”

After the laughter that greeted that statement faded, Evan stood. “Let me bring our meal. Gabriel and I had a bit of luck…”

He left and everyone moved to the dining room, helping Jeremy lay the table.

Royce disappeared to give Evan a supporting hand, and within minutes they were all seated and eagerly spooning the thick vegetable soup.

“Mmm.” Gwyneth sent Evan a smile. “Perfect for a winter’s day.”

“I thought so.” He smiled back, his hazel eyes twinkling wickedly at her.

She was just a quivering lump of jelly where these men were concerned. She should probably be ashamed of herself, but she wasn’t. Not in the least.

“So tell us about your findings.” Harry looked at Gabriel and then Evan.

“Well,” Gabriel put his spoon down and leaned back. “Little Maddington wasn’t a huge help. Like your workers, we met one or two people who thought they might have seen her with another woman in church, but weren’t sure and hadn’t spoken to her.” He looked at Evan. “Your turn.”

Evan nodded. “I had more luck. One of the farmers’ wives, the one I always buy some vegetables from, was in a chatty mood. So I asked about Miss Brockford and described her. To my surprise, Mrs Wiggins thought she recognised my description. She asked me if the lass had a sister. When I said yes, she nodded and suggested I should ask Mrs Phillips, the dressmaker. It seems the two young women had purchased dresses there. The seamstress had had to send to London for something they wanted. And in Ditchley, that is news. Hence it had travelled amongst the ladies and they all spoke of it for a while.”

“Did you get a name?” Royce leaned forward, his expression intent.

Evan nodded. “I did. I actually talked to Mrs Phillips. She was saddened to learn about Susanna and told me that she’d liked her.” He paused. “I got the impression she was not so fond of her sister, though. Older, apparently, and brusque. However, yes, she gave me a name. Henrietta Burke.”

“Jeremy, does that sound at all familiar?” All eyes swiveled to his end of the table.

He frowned. “Not immediately, no. I don’t ever recall Susanna mentioning her sister much at all—only once or twice in passing. And not as someone she lived with. Family didn’t seem to matter to her and I had a feeling, when we were together, that she had deliberately distanced herself from them. As if she didn’t really like them very much.”

“Well, all things considered,” said Gwyneth, touching her napkin to her lips, “I believe this morning was not wasted at all. Now we have a name to pursue, and that is a lot more than we had when we breakfasted.”

The soup had been devoured, along with the fresh bread Evan had bought at the Ditchley market, so he stood and looked at the others. “I think we might save the pie for dinner. I have some biscuits made by one of my dear friends in Little Maddington, and they would serve well with a cup of tea?”

Nods and murmurs of agreement endorsed the plan.

“I discovered something interesting this morning, as well, although not related to the matter of Susanna.” Gwyneth spoke quietly as they all stood.

Eyebrows rose.

“Come into the parlour and I’ll show you.”

*~~*~~*

Royce stared at the pages sewn into the ancient Bible, reaching out and touching them gently.

“Astounding,” he muttered, turning to the next one. “It’s the entire history of this family, and their land, and children…”

“And I believe it will give us some answers, and raise more questions,” added Gwyneth.

They were all gathered around the table, eager to see the words written by some long-ago scribe.

“Right then.” Harry rose and found paper and pen. “We need to put it all in order. If we keep turning those pages, we might lose them or damage them in some way, and I don’t think any of us want that to happen.”

“Good idea.” Gabriel nodded. “Gwyneth, why don’t you read the entries and we can list them.” He took a piece of paper and another pen. “Harry will take the people, and I’ll take the properties. We can both list the dates?”

“Excellent notion.”

Everyone agreed to the suggestion and Royce watched Gwyneth settle herself with the Bible carefully resting on her lap atop a small pillow.

He could sense the eagerness in her, the enthusiasm lighting her eyes, the way she ignored the few chestnut curls that had loosened from her upswept hair.

A bolt of desire shook him, but he discounted it as best he could. This entire business of not being permitted to enjoy the Lady of Wolfbridge was becoming a burden. And he was very afraid that soon it would be one he would set down, regardless of the cost.

She cleared her throat.

“The first name, at the top of the page, is Nicholas Arthur Pinebridge, Lord and Bishop of the…” she paused, “I’m having trouble making out the next word. It has been smudged a bit. But it looks like the Diocese of Pinebridge?” She looked up. “Is that possible?”

Jeremy looked puzzled. “I suppose anything is possible. As I understand it, a diocese is simply the area over which some church