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

“My Lady, sir…” There were nods and curtseys, but none lingered—the weather was just too awful for the social niceties.

“Here yer are, my Lady. And look at yer, my goodness. Yer’d give a drowned rat a run for his money.”

Adalyn couldn’t help a chuckle. “Er…yes. It’s raining out there.”

Mrs. B. rolled her eyes. “Come on then. Let’s get yer dried off a little.”

The next half hour helped Adalyn understand the true nature of country life. People dropped in and out, sometimes with an offer of help, sometimes with a request for help. Evan accompanied one young woman home to see if he could get her chimney to stop smoking, and then Jeremy and Daniel found themselves assisting a tenant who had a leak in his roof.

She sat near the fire, steaming—as Mrs. B. so picturesquely put it—like a Christmas pudding. But around her, life continued, buzzing with renewed energy, as if she and her gentlemen had stirred the communal pot and something good was starting to scent their kitchens.

At last, with Evan, Jeremy and Daniel all assembled, Adalyn determined it was time to leave.

“I think this is all we can do for now, Mrs. B.,” she said, rising and straightening her spine. “We will take ourselves back to the Manor and let you get on with the rest of your day.”

“Yer a good lass, if yer’ll pardon my saying so, Ma’am.”

Adalyn smiled. “I thank you. That means a lot to me. I’m a wet lass, I know that. But we’ve done what we set out to do. Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow we’ll see what happens…”

After many farewells, the four weary Wolfbridge residents finally returned, to shed their sopping clothes and rub themselves down in front of their fires.

Adalyn refused the offer of a bath, knowing it would mean more work for the gentlemen. She couldn’t, in all conscience, put them through that. She simply availed herself of hot water and a rough cloth, finding the lavender-scented soap to be both refreshing and relaxing.  She brushed out her hair, knowing that trying to do much of anything with it was a lost cause. So she let it lie across her shoulders and down her back. It would dry.

It was a very informal gathering for dinner, as most everyone was in their night attire.

The sound of Giles returning, made them all turn toward the door, and the look on his face as he saw them sitting at the dining room table in an assortment of robes…well it was priceless.

Adalyn chuckled. “We’ve had a long day, Giles. There’s a little food left, so if you join us we can tell you about it.”

He nodded, but didn’t return her smile. “I’m wet. I’ll change and be with you shortly.” He glanced at Jeremy as he left. “I could use a brandy.”

Adalyn’s heart stuttered. “Oh dear. Bad news, do you think?” She gazed at the others.

“We’ll know soon enough.” Jeremy rose and fetched the decanter and glasses. “Just in case.” He set them out on the table amidst the remains of a very basic meal of bread, some cold chicken, and cheese.

And sure enough, within fifteen minutes, Giles returned. Not in his night robes, but in a clean shirt and breeches. He had left his more formal clothing aside and Adalyn couldn’t help but admire him as he walked into the room, looking more like a pirate than a butler.

“Ah,” he said, his eyes alighting on the brandy. “Yes.”

Adalyn pushed over cheese and bread as he took a seat between her and Daniel. “Please, Giles, don’t keep us in suspense. Your news?”

He took a sizeable swallow of the liquor and sighed with pleasure. “That’s good.” Then he observed all the faces staring at him. “I would guess you’ve have had somewhat of a strange day, to judge by your appearance. So let me get my news out of the way before we get into the rest of it.”

“Yes please.” She encouraged him.

“I had a note this morning about the two servants who left Fivetrees after Sir Amery’s death.”

Silence fell in the room, broken only by the snapping of the fire in the hearth.

“As soon as Miss Fairhurst mentioned names, I was able to trace their movements.”

“That was fast, Giles,” observed Adalyn.

“I see no need to waste time, not when it’s this important, my Lady.”

“Of course,” she agreed.

“It turns out that Mr. Fricklebottom had a personal relationship with the maid Margaret. Margaret Johnson, was her name.”

“Was?” Daniel quietly asked.

“I’m afraid so.” Giles sighed wearily. “They did leave Fivetrees together. They were headed south and told Margaret’s sister—who lives about ten miles from here—that they were going to head for the Colonies. They’d come into quite a sum of money, apparently.”

Adalyn’s skin chilled and she shivered. “Oh no.”

“I believe so, yes. Mr. Fricklebottom was a clever lad, I learned. Knew all about spices and herbs…and, I’m sure, things that might be poisonous. He had aspirations…hoping to become a cook.”

Evan shook his head. “Yes, that all fits.” He stared at Giles. “It was a mushroom, then?”

“Quite likely. As a footman—and one who may well have served at that fateful meal—it would have been easy for him to slip a poisonous one into the sauce intended for Fairhurst.”

“And the motive was money?” Daniel looked disgusted.

“I would be surprised to learn otherwise.”

“Tell us the rest, Giles.” Adalyn watched his face. He sounded tired.

“I followed their trail. Just past the sister’s house, I came upon a small crowd just off to one side of the road.” He took another sip of brandy. “They were surrounding two people on the ground. A local identified the woman as Margaret. The other was a young man, similar in appearance to our Mr. Fricklebottom. He was still breathing, but in terrible condition”

“Attacked?” Jeremy asked.

“Shot. And robbed, too, by the way.”

Adalyn rose and walked to the fireplace, leaning against the mantel and staring into the flames. “And there goes our chance of getting Trick freed without having to go to Deepmere.”

“Someone tried to kill both