by Sahara Kelly
He smiled at that, a darkly wicked look that threatened to take Adalyn’s breath right out of her lungs. “He’d better not.”
“So what do you think of the plan?” She finished her tea and put the cup back down on the saucer. “Is it feasible? Will it do to persuade Sir Amery that I am not going to be bullied or persuaded by anything he can do?”
“It will be a start,” demurred Trick, rising from the table.
She stood as well. “A start?”
He nodded. “I’ve heard things. The man has a reputation hereabouts. He’s not well-liked, but he’s fair to his tenants and staff. Single minded as well, they say. And yes, it’s no secret he has a strong desire to be Master of Wolfbridge as well as Fivetrees, and that particular goal has been a thorn beneath his saddle for many years. I recall him trying to court Lady Panthea. She’d have none of it, so eventually I think he gave up. You, on the other hand,” he paused.
“Yes? Me what?”
Trick held out his hand and she took it, allowing him to draw her near as they stood beside the table. “You, cariad, have an aura of innocence that makes a man lose his head and drown in his own desires.”
She swallowed. “I don’t…”
“Yes you do.” His free hand reached for her and he drew a fingertip over her lips, a caress that sent the blood rushing through Adalyn’s body and lightning bolts arrowing down to between her thighs.
“Ohhh,” she sighed against his touch.
“Yes, just like that,” he groaned. “I have to let you leave, Adalyn, but God alone knows how much I don’t want to.”
“I-I-”
“Shh.” He drew her against him. “One more taste, cariad. Just one more…”
She could not have stopped him for the world. She did not want to stop him, because at this moment it seemed essential that she experience the sensation of his mouth on hers again.
His arm slipped around her waist and in a flash she was pressed against him, his body hard and so warm, so pleasing, crushing her breasts in the most breathtaking manner.
Heat rose within Adalyn, a searing flash of need that shook her to her eyebrows. She desperately wanted to be kissed, to find some way to release the flood of what she was coming to recognise as desire.
As if he read her thoughts, Trick slipped his free hand behind her neck, beneath the neat chignon, and gripped her, a firm touch that made her gasp.
“I love those sounds,” he whispered, his breath against her lips. “Those tiny gasps…God, Adalyn, you fire my soul…”
And with that he kissed her.
No tender brush of skin this time. It was a bold, demanding kiss, lasting but a few seconds before his tongue probed her, urging her to open for him and allow him in.
All her instincts were compelling her to obey and so she did, parting her lips and welcoming the intrusion.
With that, he drew her even closer, his hand sliding down from her waist to her bottom, grasping it firmly and pressing their bodies together. The hard maleness of him thrust against her stomach and as his tongue moved sensually within her mouth, she moaned, a soft long sound of yearning.
Her arms were already around him and she felt the softness of his hair beneath her fingers.
More. She wanted more.
Her breasts ached, but not to be free. If only he would ease the ache with his hands, to find her skin and grasp it, take handfuls of her body and use it as he pleased.
But it was not to be.
With a tiny shudder, Trick drew back. His face was flushed with colour, his eyelids heavy, and his lips swollen as she knew hers must be as well. “Adalyn, you should go now. I am only human.”
She gulped, still tasting him within her mouth, panting for breath and wanting so much more than a simple farewell.
But he was right.
“I know. Forgive me…”
“Stop.” He held up his hand. “I should be begging for your forgiveness, cariad bach. I have acted outrageously…” His gaze fell to her mouth.
“And I liked it, Trick,” she interrupted “Very much. But you are right. I must go.”
He nodded. “I will make plans for your pretend accident, then. Shall you have it on Friday? The day of the dinner?”
“I think so.” She tried to marshal her whirling thoughts. “It would be sensible, since I can mention the pain of it. The swelling might be more noticeable the next day.”
His brows drew together. “If you’re even thinking of showing that man your ankles, Adalyn…”
She laughed and shook her head. “I must leave.”
He walked her to the door and opened it. “Let me go first and make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckled. “Yet.”
“Thank you.” She followed him carefully down the stairs to the ground. “One question, Trick…”
“Of course.”
“What does that word mean? Cariad?”
“It is a polite compliment. In Welsh.” He smiled, dark eyes crinkling. “It means—sweet lady.”
“How lovely. Well, I thank you.” She walked away, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Does it apply to a man as well?”
“It can,” he answered.
“In that case, cariad…I shall see you at dinner.”
She smiled all the way back to the house, wondering what cariad really meant.
Chapter Nine
Adalyn found herself with ample time to turn over the matter of Trick’s kiss in her mind over the next couple of days. By Thursday she had told herself to dismiss it from her thoughts and to be extra-punctilious in her behaviour. But that resolution failed miserably and more than a few hours were spent once again re-living the unparalleled pleasure she’d found in his arms.
She determined to avoid the topic—and the gentleman himself—so took herself off on a walk to the tenant cottages in order to visit Mrs. Barnsley.
Giles had nodded his approval, even though she asked to be allowed to go alone.
“I do know the way now. ’Tis but a short ten-minute stroll, and the weather is not too bad this morning.” She glanced from the window at scudding clouds that permitted an occasional ray of sunshine. “It’s not quite spring yet, but I might be lucky enough to find a snowdrop or two…”
“You need a dog,” mused Giles.
She laughed. “I don’t need a dog, Giles. I just need a walk. And it’s all on Wolfbridge lands…”
He bowed his head in acquiescence. “We cannot keep you sequestered away, that is true. And yes, these are your lands and your pathways. So—although I promise to watch your progress from the rooftop—yes, please enjoy your walk to Mrs. Barnsley’s cottage.” He sighed. “I shall worry.”
Adalyn rested a hand on his arm and leaned against him, relishing the comfort and familiarity of his distinct scent. “I know. And it’s rather nice.”
Thus an hour or so later, a small figure could be spied making her way along the lane toward the tenant cottages. Adalyn wanted to skip with delight at her freedom; although she was growing to cherish strong affections for all her gentlemen, there were times when the company of the breeze and the songs of the birds were sufficient, and this was one of them.
She glanced down along the side of the lane and gave a little happy whoop at the sight of primroses presenting their pale yellow faces to the sun. Shortly thereafter, she strolled with a tiny bouquet of the cheerful blooms, holding them to her nose now and again, and breathing in their delicious perfume.
Truly, spring might well be on the way.
Which reminded her of how far she had come since she’d taken the first eventful step into Wolfbridge Manor. And also raised the question of what she was to do with the estate. Keeping it functioning was not as hard as she’d expected, since everything worked like clockwork, thanks to the management skills of its staff. Given the small number of residents, it was no surprise.
But she was the Mistress now. She should be thinking about making her own contribution, something that would live on through the next Mistress
and the ones that would come after that.
Twirling her little posy, she turned the corner and walked up the narrow road to Mrs. Barnsley’s cottage. As always, the chimney was smoking, sending puffs into the sky. Adalyn wondered what she was baking, if anything.
The ancient brass door knocker sounded a healthy clang, and she waited for her summons to be answered. A minute or so later, the door opened and a blue eye peered around it from the shadows inside. “Yes?”
Adalyn blinked. “Hullo. I’m from the Manor. Would Mrs. Barnsley be at home?”
“Oh my.” The eye blinked back and a few locks of fair hair waved in the breeze. “Can you wait a minute? I’ll get Ma.” The door closed.
Since it was sheltered on the doorstep, and the sun was weak but warming, Adalyn simply did as she was bid, and waited.
It wasn’t long before she heard yelling, and almost immediately the door opened once more. “Ma says to come in and I’m sorry I shut the door in your face, but I wasn’t to know you were Lady Adalyn, now, was I?”
Half-startled half-bemused, Adalyn just shook her head and smiled. “Of course not. It is always wise to know who is requesting entrance to your home.” She held out her hand. “I am indeed Adalyn Wilkerson.”
“You are most welcome, my Lady.” The woman didn’t seem to know if she should take Adalyn’s hand or not so she touched it and curtseyed at the same time.
Which was quite clever, mused Adalyn, as she stepped further inside and then got her first real look at this stranger.
Slim and fair, the girl—for surely she could not have been much older—had the look of her mother. This had to be Jane, Mrs. Barnsley’s eldest.
But what shocked Adalyn was the mess of red scarring down the right side of her face and onto her neck. The ivory smooth skin had been destroyed, and Adalyn’s heart went out to her as she turned away, deliberately hiding her disfigurement.
“I hope Mrs. Barnsley is well,” said Adalyn, looking around. “If I’ve come at a bad time…”
“Of course yer haven’t. Come along in, my Lady. Lookin’ forward to a bit of a chat with yer, we are.” Mrs. Barnsley’s voice sounded fairly strong, if a bit nasal, and Adalyn followed it into the kitchen.
There was the woman herself, swathed in a brilliantly hued blanket, tucked up in front of a roaring fire.
Adalyn frowned and came forward to push Mrs. Barnsley back into her chair as she attempted to rise. “My dear lady, you are not well. Sit down and keep warm.”
“’Tis naught but a cold, my Lady. Just yer keeps yer distance. Jane here has made me a good stout broth, so other than a sneeze or two, I’m right as rain.”
Guessing that being trapped in a chair for a few days would be the worst kind of punishment for a woman like Mrs. Barnsley, Adalyn merely shook her head. “You must be very glad to have Jane here,” she said politely. “If she is half the cook you are, I’m sure the rest of the family are as well.”
“She’s a good lass.” Mrs. Barnsley sighed. “But yer’ve seen her.”
Adalyn glanced around to find Jane gone. Not surprised, she pulled a chair up to the fire and sat, knowing that a chat would be the best medicine. “I did, yes. She seems a capable young lady.”
“She is that. But…” Mrs. Barnsley’s hands trembled a little as she clutched her handkerchief.
Moved, Adalyn reached out and touched the other woman’s shoulder. “If you don’t wish to talk about it, Mrs. B., I’ll understand.”
A smile wreathed the face within the folds of the blanket. “Mrs. B., eh? I like that, my Lady. Yer a clever girl and kind too, if yer’ll forgive the familiarity. So I will tell Jane’s story, fer it is a sad one, and one that has just come home to roost, as it were.”
Adalyn’s eyes were drawn to the flicker of firelight on china, and she noticed some china on the table. “Wait a moment.” She rose and walked over, touching the cup and finding it warm and half full. “I think you might keep this at your side, in case your throat gets a little dry from the telling,” she smiled, returning to the hearth and putting both cup and saucer next to Mrs. Barnsley. “It smells like excellent broth to me.”
“Tea, I should be makin’ yer tea…”
“Don’t fuss.” Adalyn stopped her immediately. “I came to see you. And you are going to tell me how Jane has come to be here and what happened to scar her so badly…”
Mrs. Barnsley subsided, muttering a little. The fact she did so told Adalyn that the older woman really wasn’t up to snuff yet. So she tucked the blanket around her more tightly and took her seat once again.
“Jane has always wanted to better herself,” sniffled Mrs. Barnsley. “A good thing, fer sure, but sometimes it doesn’t go the way yer expects.”
“That is quite true, but it’s good that Jane had the desire to learn.”
“Yes, she got help from the Vicarage, where Mrs. Thomas, the Vicar’s wife, gives lessons to children now and again. Jane was very smart, learned real quick, and Mrs. Thomas took a bit of extra time with the girl. So when Lady Tymball-Sale put about that she was lookin’ fer maids, Jane applied and before we knew it, she was off down south. Got to be next-in-line to the Lady’s maid, too.”
“How wonderful,” encouraged Adalyn.
“It was. Made us all proud. But then they had this party over the Christmas season. Lot of guests down from London, bit of shootin’, I heard, lot of gamblin’, yer probably knows the kind of things I mean.”
Adalyn, who hadn’t a clue, nodded.
“And of course there was this one chap who fancied our Jane.”
“Oh dear.” Adalyn’s heart dropped to her shoes. “Let me guess. Jane refused his advances.”
“That she did, fer I’ve brought her up to be a good girl. But himself was the valet to a hoity-toity gentleman of the Ton, and this lad fancied himself every bit as good. Thought he could have whatever he wanted, includin’ Jane. When she said no…one night in the kitchen when they were alone…well, a pot of hot water got involved.”
“Dear Lord.” Adalyn’s breath froze. “He threw it at her?”
“Sort of,” said Mrs. Barnsley, her voice choked. “She grabbed it, see, because he was having a go at her and she’d no way to hold him off. As she tells it, he managed to knock her arm crooked and it came back on her…”
Adalyn was silent, unable to imagine the pain, but well able to imagine Jane’s fear.
“How long ago?”
“Couple of months now.” Mrs. Barnsley sighed. “The family took care of the worst of it, to hush it up and keep it out of the papers, I suppose. But once she’d healed enough to get about, she got her two weeks’ notice and out she went.”
“That’s just…awful.”
“Yes it is. And they knew it. Gave her four extra weeks pay, they did. And I hope it eased their conscience because it didn’t make us a mite more inclined to view them any better.” Her lips curled into a sneer. “Bought my girl off, they did. Or tried to.”
“I am so sorry to hear all this, Mrs. B.” Adalyn laid a hand on the blanket. “But I’m glad Jane is safe and sound here, and able to take care of you for a bit…”
The older woman turned her face to Adalyn, worry writ large across her features. “But what will she do, my Lady? She can’t spend her life buried in this cottage tendin’ me, and she doesn’t want to go out and find another position. Besides, who will hire her lookin’ like she does?”
Adalyn leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. Then looked at Mrs. Barnsley.
“I will.”
“What?”
“I said I will.” Adalyn met the older woman’s gaze. “I have spoken to Giles now and again about this very thing. In spite of the efficient way the house is run, there are times when a woman needs another woman’s help.”
“But women don’t live there,” said Mrs. Barnsley, a confused look on her face. “Except yerself, of course.”
“That’s correct,” agreed Adalyn. “But if Jane could walk over early, and return befo
re dark…I think that would be sufficient time for her to do whatever is necessary? It will mostly be caring for my wardrobe and perhaps assisting with my hair and clothes of a morning?”
“Well…”
“We’re near enough, aren’t we? Ten minutes or so? And for the pleasure of having a female helping hand in the mornings, I’d be more than willing to forgo it should the weather turn bad. I’d never expect Jane to try and struggle through a blizzard…”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Mrs. Barnsley sounded hesitant.
“What worries you?”
“Them lads of yers.” She sighed and shook her head. “They’re too…too much of everything.”
“Mrs. B.,” remonstrated Adalyn. “You cannot believe they would approach Jane and make her uncomfortable in any way…”
“Oh God no,” she stuttered. “Not at all. It’s Jane I’m worried about. How can she stay away from them?”
Adalyn choked down a laugh. “I’m confident she will be all that is appropriate.”
“I wish I could be that sure.”
“Best thing to do now? Ask her.”
Mrs. Barnsley nodded. “Yer right.” She cleared her throat and called for her daughter.
“Ma? You need something?” Obviously Jane had heard the croak, since she peeked in around the door of the kitchen.
“I do, dear. Come in. Lady Adalyn has somethin’ to ask yer.”
Adalyn rose. She had to look up a little at Jane, since the girl was taller, and would have been a beauty if not for the scars that had stolen a portion of her face. But it was no longer a surprise or a shock, and Adalyn hoped she was doing the right thing.
It felt right, and she was learning to trust her instincts more each day that she spent in Wolfbridge Manor.
“I would like to ask you, Jane, if you would consider joining my household and becoming my personal maid.”
Jane’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She gazed at Adalyn as if she was the Second Coming.
“Well say somethin’, girl. Don’t stare like that or her Ladyship’ll think yer a ninny instead of a Barnsley,” admonished her mother.
“I will think no such thing,” laughed Adalyn. “But I would like your answer, Jane. As I told your Mama, I would ask that you come in the mornings and assist me with the basics, and then perhaps deal with my clothing. I’m not used to being a lady, believe me. And I know you’ve probably had more experience than I with such a position. So I would welcome your presence, and not ask you to live at the Manor, since you know the stipulations as to female residents.”
