It had been repressive, she realised. How wonderful it would have been to be able to ask her father and mother questions over an evening meal. To talk with them about things that interested her and to listen to their conversation over similar topics. But that had never happened. She had grown up thinking all meals should be eaten without comment, and her marriage had not altered her beliefs, since her new husband had managed to be mostly drunk by dinnertime and either loudly abrasive or silent with the fog of alcohol surrounding him. On the rare occasions when he was still sober, he would look at her with an expression in his eyes that she found unsettling because it forewarned her of the night to come. And sure enough, her assumption would be proved correct.
Such a short marriage. But so much pain and disillusionment within those few days.
She sighed and Giles must have caught the slight sound, since he turned to her with a question. “If my Lady will permit…perhaps tea in the parlour?”
She smiled. “And brandy for the gentlemen?”
There was a murmur of agreement.
“With your permission,” grinned Giles.
Adalyn rose, as did the men. “Then in that case, of course. And perhaps a wee drop for me as well, rather than tea…”
“You are most thoughtful, my Lady,” smiled Evan. “A lovely way to end the evening.”
Giles snuffed out the candles on the table and covered the remaining dishes.
“Let me make sure everything is tight, Giles,” said Evan. “There might be a hungry mouse or two, and I’d rather not encourage them.”
“Join us when you’re ready, Evan,” said Adalyn. “And thank you for a delicious meal.”
Since the fire had been burning all day, the parlour was warm and the soft chairs most welcome. Adalyn felt she’d done little enough today, and that the gentlemen probably relished the chance to relax in comfort even more than she did, but it didn’t diminish the oddly wonderful moments she was experiencing.
Giles poured her a small brandy, and she sipped, wrinkling her nose at first, then widening her eyes and staring at him as the liquor warmed her from within.
“Oh my goodness,” she held a hand to her heart. “That is quite…potent.”
There were smiles and chuckles.
“Indeed, my Lady. Many a man—and woman—have found themselves laid low by the subtlety of it.” Trick saluted her with his glass.
She rose, attracted by a portrait to one side of the fireplace. “Giles, who is this? Do you know?”
He nodded. “That is Lady Panthea. Our last mistress.”
“She is very beautiful,” observed Adalyn, gazing at the reddish blonde curls and the sapphire blue silk of an evening gown that emphasized a fine bosom and creamy skin.
“She still is,” Evan answered. “She moved away when she married. We missed her, of course, but we all wished her happiness. She found it.”
“How lovely.” Adalyn smiled. “A local gentleman?”
For a moment there was silence.
“You might say so, yes,” Giles stepped into the breach. “However, they do keep in touch now and again.”
“I can’t imagine anyone ever not doing so, once they’ve lived here with you all.” Adalyn shook her head. “’Tis quite an experience.”
“A good one, I hope,” said Evan, finally joining them and crossing to the sideboard where he poured himself some brandy.
“I cannot imagine better, Evan.” She patted her waist. “I know I shall have to start taking some long walks to make sure I don’t show the effects of your wonderful meals.”
“A good ride will help too, my Lady,” added Trick. “We must see about getting you mounted.”
She turned to him. “I would like that. Let me find my feet here first though. Since I’ve never ridden, it will be a tiring chore for you to teach me, I’m sure.”
His smile was potent. “I would like nothing better than to teach you to ride, Lady Adalyn.”
She couldn’t help feeling there was more to his words than she understood, but she nodded anyway. Daniel rose to refill his glass as she turned from the fireplace, and the resultant collision sent her into a spin.
“Oh…” Her heel caught on her gown and she thudded heavily against the back of one of the tall chairs. Her gasp of pain brought the men to their feet.
“What on earth…”
“My Lady…”
“Are you hurt?”
The exclamations came fast as she staggered and felt the blood drain from her face. The wood of the chair had smacked against the sorest spot she still had. Of the many she had concealed, hoping the bruises would vanish soon, this was the worst.
“Adalyn.” Giles’s voice was strong, commanding, and reduced the others to silence.
“I’m…I’m all right. Really.”
He strode to her without further ado. “No, you are not. Stand quite still.”
He touched her gently, running his hands down her side. When he hit the worst bruise, she couldn’t help another muted gasp of pain.
“Dear God,” he muttered.
“What is it?” Daniel frowned as the men tried not to crowd her.
“I’m about to find out.”
Giles placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her back to the room, unlacing her gown rapidly.
“Giles,” she gasped. “Don’t…”
It was too late.
A breathless quiet descended as he drew away the fabric from her skin and revealed enough of her back to show the collection of multi-hued marks that still remained.
“Adalyn…”
Jeremy’s voice whispered her name into the stillness. “Dear God, Adalyn. What did that monster do to you?”
“Easy, Jeremy.” Giles soothed him. “I believe these are healing. But still sore.” He touched her gently. “You have no broken ribs, I hope?”
She shook her head, staring at her slippers, very aware that five men were observing her back. She could feel the air on her naked skin right down to the end of her spine. “I don’t think so. He was always careful to keep the caning to places that couldn’t be seen.”
“A cane?” Daniel spat the word. “I’m sorry he’s dead. I’d like to kill him all over again.”
“As would I,” added Jeremy.
“And me,” Evan chimed in.
“God, a cane…” Trick sounded horrified.
“We all feel the
