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

his absence sat in a handy stack by the blotter.
Trust Jeremy to make sure all was prepared for his return. A taper to the logs in the fireplace and the room began to fill with warmth. The taper travelled on to the candles and Giles sighed with contentment as he took his chair and drew the first of the letters from the pile.
Most were easily dealt with; a few enquiries about spring stock, some bills for the work on the kitchen garden that had been completed—although there was more to do—and some papers referencing the matter of the Fairhursts and Fivetrees.
He’d not had time to ask how Trick and Jane were managing over there, but he knew if there’d been any major problems he’d have been told about it. There were two letters remaining, and Giles knew from the writing that they would be important.
Taking the first one, which showed signs of much wear, he slit the ornate seal and opened it carefully, his heart quickening as he glanced at the signature.
The news it contained made him drop the paper to the table, lean back and close his eyes.
For a few minutes, he sat, motionless, waiting for his brain to calm, to settle, to push away matters he could not yet handle.
As it did so, he found the strength to reach into his waistcoat pocket for a small key. It unlocked one of his desk drawers and inside he pressed a piece of wood that revealed a hidden compartment. Smoothing out the paper, he carefully added it to the others, replaced the cover and closed and locked the drawer.
Then he rose and poured a small brandy, bringing it back to the desk and looking at the final letter. This one was important, vital now, since he needed to be about the business of locating the next Lady of Wolfbridge.
The network of correspondents he had set in place over the years was nothing if not productive, and he knew this note had come from one of his most reliable sources.
He unfolded it with a measure of apprehension, noting the word URGENT in bold letters across the top.
“Dear Sir,
 
In reference to the subject at hand, you should be informed that the lady has not appeared at her home in the last three months. Enquiries pertaining to this matter have finally produced a result; she is presently in residence at the Dower House.
Unfortunately, I have learned that this location is far from secure, being a neglected building in a desolate and wild part of the estate. There is one known occupant, a woman of unpleasant reputation. Thus, there is concern as to the welfare of the lady in question. It is recommended that you consider a visit at this time, or in the near future if it is possible, to verify her condition. The winter has been of long duration and featured many days of freezing temperatures. Few, if any, sightings of smoke have been observed.
As a final note, it has been made clear to all and sundry that access to the Dower House is strictly forbidden. The villagers have been warned, and occasionally threatened by the gamekeepers. Those who have brought supplies must leave them with those same gamekeepers who are presumed to be the only outside contact for the two women inside.
It is not a comfortable situation, sir. We urge you to make haste, lest the subject of your interest fail to survive the rest of the winter.
Sincerely yrs…”
 
Giles closed his eyes on a frown and rubbed his hands over his face in anger. How dare they treat her this way? And what terrible timing. He had Gabriel unconscious upstairs and now this…
He finished his brandy and stood, glancing at the clock which told him there was a scant half hour before Evan would have dinner on the table.
He needed a good meal under his belt, and it was time to present his problem to the men. It might reveal how they would go on without him, and at least he would have their input as to what to do next.
He knew, deep inside, that he would have to leave. Again. But he wanted to hear them say it, to endorse his course of action—and to prepare themselves for a new Lady of Wolfbridge.

Chapter Six
 
The dining room gleamed, a familiar and comfortable place that could seat six people or thirty with ease.
At this moment it was redolent with the fragrance rising from a roast of beef, still sizzling, and ready to be consumed by the four hungry men seated around the table.
“That looks…” Royce stared at it, and the assortment of vegetables Evan had prepared to go with it. “Magnificent.”
“Thank you,” grinned Evan. “I know you’re hungry, and Jeremy and I can always use a good evening meal.”
Giles carved and everyone helped themselves. There was little formality when it was just the gentlemen, and the sooner Royce understood that, the better.
“We’re fortunate in that the kitchen is only a few steps away,” he said, passing a dish of beans. “So Evan’s creations are always hot.”
“It’s appreciated,” nodded Royce. “Thank you.”
Pleased, Giles attacked his meal, suddenly aware that he was ravenous. And as always, Evan’s food was beyond delicious, especially this evening when he had presented a feast that would appeal to each and every gentleman present.
Plain, tasty and simple, it was satisfying, and the dishes emptied rapidly.
Conversation was kept to a minimum until the platters were almost bare. “Evan, you always surprise me,” grinned Jeremy, patting his stomach.
“How so?” Evan wiped a small spot of gravy from his chin with his napkin.
“You always get it right, my friend.”
“I try,” smiled Evan. “You never see the failures.”
“They probably taste good too,” said Royce. “You could out-cook most of London, Evan. Without question.”