Her wrists and ankles showed signs of vicious bindings, and bruises were flowering on her torso.
I could not but agree with Royce that she had been cruelly beaten, but by whom and for what reason…well, we are all at a loss.
Dear Jeremy has been dreadfully affected by all this, as one would expect. She was the woman at the centre of the scandal that nearly resulted in his death, several years ago. I suspect he might have had more than a friendly interest in her, since his face—usually so amiable and happy—has changed over the last hours.
He appears to carry a great weight, a sorrow perhaps, and I confess I miss the Jeremy of yesterday at this moment. His arms would be most welcome.
But Evan and Gabriel have made sure that I am all right, Evan bringing me tea, and accompanying it with his warm kisses. He has promised a cold collation for this evening —the perfect idea, since I doubt any of us wish to sit down to a formal dinner.
The air is growing very heavy and clouds are peeping over the horizon, so one might expect storms tonight, echoing the chaos of our day.
Poor Gabriel is overset; his sensitivity and kindness completely shattered by what he has seen. I believe they might well remind him of his own past experience with such acts of physical violence, so I was glad to be able to hold him, and spend a few minutes cuddling him to me. The warmth we share comforted us both, I think, and I welcomed his passionate caresses, knowing that we were both reminded we were lucky to be alive.
Indeed, I am lucky, so very lucky.
I have four wonderful men to grant my every wish, take care of my every need, and three of them share my bed. Yes, it sounds strange, and horridly scandalous, but I am well aware that I am the most blessed of women. Being the Lady of Wolfbridge saved my life.
I can but hope that the happiness we all find here will, in some small measure, help Miss Brockford fight her way through this disaster.
Chapter One
“Is she still unconscious?”
Gwyneth, current Lady of Wolfbridge and previously Dowager Countess of Kilham, bent over the bed and peered at the young woman lying bandaged beneath a sheet.
A tall man next to her sighed and nodded. “Yes, and it’s probably better that she should remain so for some time yet, but I wish she could have said something about how this happened.”
“Poor Royce,” Gwyneth rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve seen more than your fair share of wounds and injuries since you arrived at Wolfbridge, haven’t you?”
“More than I expected, that’s certain,” he agreed. “But less than war, my Lady. Less than war.” He turned back, his face stern, his focus on his patient.
“Wolfbridge is lucky to have you,” she said, her voice quiet. “And so is Miss Brockford.”
“I’m not sure she’ll make it, Gwyneth,” he said softly.
The fact he used her name brought home the significance of his statement. Royce was very much aware of his new place at Wolfbridge. He was, in title, the butler. But in fact he was so much more. Wolfbridge could not have existed without his predecessor, and the traditions and beliefs Giles had maintained for so long continued unabated in the capable hands of his handpicked successor, Royce, ex-warrior and erstwhile doctor.
“She will,” said Gwyneth firmly. “She’s a fighter. She fought off her attacker so long ago, and thanks to Jeremy, she survived a horrid experience. Now she’s here, and thanks to you—and all of us—she’ll survive this as well.”
He shook his head. “She has broken ribs. I fear there may be some internal injuries, and the beating she received didn’t exclude her skull. I cannot tell what kind of damage took place there…if she wakes up we’ll know more, but…” he paused, then squared his shoulders. “We should be prepared for her not to wake at all, my Lady.”
She nodded. “Understood.”
Her eyes roamed around the snug quarters that had been created above the barn many years before. “Trick was comfortable here, I believe.” She took comfort from remembering her handsome groom, now happily wed and awaiting his first child.
Royce stood and joined her, glancing from the small fireplace to the windows and cupboards. “I understand he used it when the horses might need him at any time. Foaling, or injured or healing…Trick is a master when it comes to animals.”
“He’s not such a master when it comes to fatherhood, though,” she smiled. “He’s getting rather nervous now. He felt the baby move, and Jane told me he turned quite white.”
The woman on the bed shifted slightly and a sound that could have been a moan issued from her lips.
Both Royce and Gwyneth turned quickly, he hurrying to her side, while she remained still, her heart thumping rapidly.
Royce touched the slender throat. “Susanna. Susanna, can you hear me?”
There was nothing.
“Is she…” Gwyneth scarce breathed the words.
“She’s still with us,” said Royce. “Come on Susanna. Wake up, woman. Fight. Hear my voice…speak to us, give us something, even if it’s only a murmur…”
For a moment, it seemed as if the birds outside fell silent.
Then Susanna’s head turned ever so slightly and her lips parted on a moan.
Royce took her hand. “You’re safe. You’re at Wolfbridge and we’re taking care of you now.”
“Wolfbridge,” she whispered. “Jeremy…”
“That’s right, Susanna,” Gwyneth stood beside Royce, unable to keep away. “Jeremy’s here. You’re safe. You must get well now.”
And there was silence once again.
Gwyneth looked at him. “She’s going to get better. We have to believe
