The Dowager Countess (The Saga of Wolfbridge Manor Book 2)

sick?”
Royce’s shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “If they come my way. I don’t seek ‘em out, but it’s wrong not to help if one is able.”
“A noble sentiment.”
“An honest one, at least. Not much that’s noble about it. I don’t like that word. Never have.” He sat back and pushed his ale aside as the serving girl brought their meals. Simple fare—beef, potatoes, vegetables and a loaf of bread. However, the bread was warm from the oven, the beef tender and both men were hungry, so for a while they remained silent as they filled their bellies.
Replete at last, Giles ordered them both a brandy.
Royce sipped. “I take it now’s the time you tell me why you asked to meet me here?”
“It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, Royce. I have made this request once before.” He sighed. “Neither of us knew at that point you’d choose the military.”
“What else could I do? The Peninsula War. It seemed the right thing, especially given my family situation.”
“I will allow that.” Giles nodded. “Yes, it was a logical choice.”
“And your offer was…unusual, to say the least of it.”
“Wolfbridge is unusual. It was then, and it still is. Even more so, since the intervening years have worked well for us down there. It’s a thriving estate, not wealthy as some would measure it, but holding its own. We survived that terrible summer a couple of years ago, and with some excellent management recovered more quickly than I’d hoped. And that is a good introduction into my reason for asking to see you.”
“Wolfbridge. I knew it would be about Wolfbridge.”
“I will always be about Wolfbridge, Royce. Like you, I know where my duty lies. Unlike you, I am thrilled to take its burdens onto my shoulders and work for its betterment.”
“That’s a low blow.” Royce’s eyes darkened. “I fought alongside my men, Giles. I never shirked a single engagement.”
“I know. I wasn’t speaking of your military career.”
“Ah.” He turned away and stared into the fire that was now burning merrily at one side of the now-quiet inn. “That was another time and another place.”
Giles acknowledged the truth of that statement with a nod. “And I was unwise to bring it to mind. I apologise for my poor timing and probably less than complimentary expressions.”
“Accepted.” Royce sipped his brandy, and Giles felt the intensity of that pure blue gaze. “So. You are here to invite me to be one of the Wolfbridge servants.”
It took a moment of deep breathing for Giles to find his control. Royce was one of the few who knew exactly how to rouse both temper and anger. He’d just done both.
“We do not have servants, as you call them, at Wolfbridge, Royce. You are under a misapprehension.”
“Really?” One eyebrow rose. “Enlighten me, then. Because the last time you suggested I come to Wolfbridge, it certainly sounded as if I were to become no more than a well-dressed servant.”
“That’s more what you heard, than what I said, but that time has passed and I would prefer we deal with the here and now.”
“Very well.” Royce inclined his head, his gaze watchful.
“Wolfbridge has just lost its estate manager. Daniel has married our current Lady of Wolfbridge, so both must be replaced at the earliest opportunity.”
“So not a servant, then?”
“Definitely not. But a position that will require work, good management skills and solid financial acumen. All of which I know you have.”
“You don’t care about my physician’s abilities?”
Giles had to be honest. “Those are an added bonus. You weren’t a physician last time we met.”
“I never planned on being one,” said Royce, in a moment of unguarded emotion. “But war will change a lot of things and force you into learning new skills, whether you want to or not.”
Silent for a moment, Giles heard the edge of pain in the quiet tones. “Waterloo?”
Royce nodded once. “And others. Too many battles to remember, not that I want to. Most, however, were too terrible to forget.”
“I can offer a quiet haven, Royce,” said Giles. “Wolfbridge is nothing if not quiet. As estate manager, you will have to acquaint yourself with the locals as necessary, but we keep ourselves to ourselves, unless it’s to help others.”
“Ah yes,” Royce’s lip curled. “The angels of Wolfbridge caring for those less fortunate.”
“And why not?”
“No reason. It’s just out of the ordinary, that’s all.”
“It shouldn’t be,” frowned Giles. “Help should never be out of the ordinary. Or unexpected.”
“I’m not arguing.” Royce held up his hand. “So other than managing the crops, doing charitable things and making friends in the villages, what else am I to do?” He stared at Giles. “Fuck the Lady of Wolfbridge?”
“If she desires it, yes.”
*~~*~~*
Several days passed before Giles could return to the inn.
He’d stayed with the Sydenhams, who always welcomed him with open arms, excellent food and the best brandy in London.
He allowed himself a moment of pleasure as he watched his ward take a husband and approved of her choice. Sir Ragnor was a solid young man with his feet on the ground, even if they seemed to take flight every time he looked at his new bride.
That was as it should be, and Giles left London with no concerns about Judith’s future. He would keep in touch, of course, since there were financial matters still to be resolved, but she was in happily in love, and with a husband who would care for her, protect her and give her the life she deserved.
He had celebrated the New Year in a modest fashion; a few old friends, another of the Sydenham’s excellent meals and—to his delight—a few hands of piquet at which both he and Sir Laurence excelled.
For Giles, it was a rare opportunity to set aside his duties