Lady Adalyn
The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor – Book One
A Reverse Harem Risqué Romance
Sahara Kelly
Dedication
To friends, without whom life would be grey and bleak indeed. And to one in particular, and a conversation that led to the planting of the plot seed that germinated into this story. Thanks, girlfriend. World domination is on the way—but let’s do Atlantis first!
Author’s Note
Set in 1817, this book reflects as accurately as possible the weather that occurred during that time period. The prior year, 1816, had been one of the coldest ever recorded, and while everyone hoped for better conditions in the year to follow, nature refused to obliged and delivered above normal levels of rain. I have worked these into the story in a way that I hope will offer a glimpse into how life must have been when there were few, if any, ways of coping with the capricious whims of nature.
Prologue
January 1817, England
Lady Adalyn Wilkerson’s slender body shivered as she stood in the churchyard. It could have been a reaction to the icy cold drizzle that showed no signs of letting up, shooting chilly fingers of misery down the necks of those gathered in this mournful place.
But it wasn’t. Adalyn’s shivers came from her thoughts, every bit as icy and chilled as the weather.
Two weeks ago, she had turned twenty and become a bride.
Today she was a widow.
She watched the shining coffin containing the earthly remains of her late husband, Sir Ridley Wilkerson, descend slowly into the earth. There were vague mumbles from the Reverend overseeing the interment, who looked every bit as cold and miserable as she felt.
Shock had rendered her speechless, and the thick veil hid the fact that there were no tears falling from her blue eyes as she watched her future vanish. She could not think, could not speak, could only cling to her sanity by a mere thread of hope that something or someone would appear to tell her what to do now.
As the shovelfuls of dirt hit the casket with ugly thuds, she turned away, following the one or two interested parties who decided to join the small service. Having no family of her own to attend, she wondered if there would be others there related to her late husband, who might keep her company during this sad time.
But apparently they cared for her even less than they had cared for him.
Glancing around, she saw one man, perhaps a servant—she wasn’t sure. Two were probably curious local ladies, and last there was the Vicar.
None offered words of comfort, for she was a stranger to them. A young woman of no importance who had caught the eye of an elderly Lord looking for an heir.
With no choice as to her future, Adalyn became Lady Wilkerson, and submitted to her husband’s lustful desires on her wedding night.
She was no longer a virgin. But enjoying his new bride to the fullest had exhausted her husband, and a few days later he’d clutched his chest and tumbled head first into his breakfast.
Terrified, she’d called his valet, and from that moment on her world shattered. There was little for her to do but stand around, wearing the musty black and old fashioned weeds a maid found in the back of a cupboard, and waiting for some clue as to what would happen to her now.
The Wilkerson family was sparse, hence her husband’s desperate wish for offspring. Few came to the house to express sympathy; the two who did were more interested in what she might sell, instead of comforting her.
A lawyer arrived and pontificated greatly, flashing reams and scrolls of paper, and muttering about last wills and testaments and codicils until she wanted to scream and poke his eyes out with the quill he’d placed on the desk in front of him.
She’d understood little and he had not cared enough to elucidate.
So here she was, clad in the only clothing she could now wear, wondering where she would go and what would happen to her. Her parents left for the Continent before the wedding—the settlement had seen to that, and there had been no communication from them since.
She’d expected nothing less. They made it known early in her life that they’d wanted a son, not a useless girl. However, her gender and her virginity rewarded them with the monies they lusted for, so they washed their hands of her and scurried off to Italy.
A servant had given her away at her wedding. Her new husband hadn’t cared.
She stopped in the middle of the churchyard, lost, bewildered, frightened and feeling the tears building behind her eyes, her meagre possessions in a dilapidated bag beside her.
Her hands shook and she tucked them into the ends of the thin scarf she’d wrapped around her neck. The murky grey skies and damp green grasses swam before her eyes and she would have fallen if a strong hand hadn’t caught her in time.
“Here now, Lady Wilkerson. None of that. Let’s get you out of this rain.”
She turned to see an imposing figure at her side. “Who…do I know you, sir?”
“Not yet Ma’am,” he answered gently. “But you will.”
Chapter One
The interior of the carriage seemed like heaven to Adalyn. There were hot bricks by her feet and a luxurious fur blanket waiting for her to snuggle around her shoulders.
She allowed the gentleman to help her inside, and settle her with deferential care. “Thank you, sir. It is indeed a pleasure to feel the warmth.” She glanced at his face. “May I know to whom I speak?” She lifted the veil and pushed it out of the way.
He took a seat opposite her and tapped on the roof, signalling the driver to get underway. As they lurched forward, he smiled, a richly satisfying expression that made her want to smile back.
“I am Giles, my Lady. And I have the honour of being your new butler.”
She blinked. “I don’t
