insists he earned during his years with the circus—was vociferous in his condemnation of my upbringing. He’s promised to find me a horse of my own and to give me lessons in riding. He is charming, somewhat wicked, very handsome and the perfect addition to my growing cadre of gentlemen attendants. I believe he may be Welsh, since I can detect a very slight brogue every now and again.

His hands…calloused from working with his charges, but with long graceful fingers. When he left, he kissed my hand. And his lips lingered, much as Daniel’s did.  I do believe I may be becoming a wanton, for such attentions are giving me an inordinate amount of delight.

But I find myself wondering who, if anyone, will care? Why is it a sin to find the touch of a man’s lips on one’s hand delightful after never having experienced such a salute? Until I find and answer to that question, I believe I shall continue to relish such affectionate touches.

In the next few weeks, I shall conscript my gentlemen to assist me in learning how to run Wolfbridge to the best advantage. I would like to leave a mark here on this place, so that those who come after me, unfortunate ladies who find themselves in similar positions to myself, will be as excited as I am to discover this sanctuary.

For it is indeed a sanctuary, not just in the physical sense, but in the metaphorical sense as well. I wake refreshed and excited for the day ahead.

Already I find my life and my perspectives changing.

So now I am determined my next line of inquiry will be as to the histories and circumstances surrounding my five personal supporters.

Why are they here? Why are they so devoted to my welfare?

Are any of them married?

That last question slipped out, dear Diary, and I am quite horrified that it did so. But being the widow of a brute doesn’t negate my responses to pleasurable stimuli. I know their marital status should be of no interest at all to me.

But each and every one seems to be focused solely on me. And I cannot begin to describe how very…arousing that is.

Chapter Four

Adalyn found her life settling into a pleasant routine as her first weeks passed at Wolfbridge.

Upon awakening, she would tend to her needs, then dress in the clothing that had begun to appear in her wardrobe. Giles had been busy, she knew, and several times wagons had arrived at the Manor, only to be driven around to the servants’ entrance, thus denying her the chance to find out what was being delivered.

Breakfast was a delight, since she’d insisted that at least one of the men—she was coming to think of them as her gentlemen—join her at the table. Her protestations about how lonely it was to be the single occupant had brought Daniel at first, under the pretext of discussing estate business.

Then Trick arrived the next morning, wishing to speak to her about the stables.

And so, before the end of the week, she could rely on having at least two of her gentleman sharing breakfast.

Sundays, however, were reserved for Giles.

Again, it had been persistence that paid off.

“I would not ask it of you, Giles, but I’m sure the others might like a quiet Sunday. Church perhaps, or a bit of a rest. I cannot say I’m ready to attend church myself yet, so until I do, I would appreciate the company. It would mean a lot to me…”

Giles had surrendered without too much ado. “You present an invitation I see I cannot refuse, my Lady.” He bowed. “Very well. I will join you on Sunday morning. I will add that we have a pew of our own at our local church—when you feel the time is right.”

She smiled, and left, a little skip in her step. How lovely to be able to ask for a favour and have it granted without argument.

She had begun to notice several maids working around the house, cleaning, dusting and freshening her chambers.

She’d nodded, quietly thanked them when the occasion warranted it, and determined to talk to Giles about them.

“A moment of your time, Giles?” She spied him at the far end of the upstairs corridor.

“Of course, Ma’am. I will join you in the Rose room in a few moments?”

Since he had his hands full with a rather large piece of decorative porcelain, Adalyn nodded and made her way downstairs. Glancing up from the bottom, she saw the massive urn catching the light coming from within the bedrooms surrounding that portion of the corridor.

“Lovely, Giles. A perfect spot.”

“I’m glad you think so, Ma’am. Now,” he reached her side. “How may I be of assistance?”

She led the way into the Rose room and turned to face him from in front of the desk. “I am wondering about the maids I see now and again.” She leaned back against the sturdy piece and folded her arms beneath her breasts.

“Yes?” Giles raised a polite eyebrow.

“The ones doing the cleaning? Laundry as well, probably.”

“I am familiar with their duties, Ma’am.”

“Well then. Who are they? Why don’t they live here at the Manor?  Where do they live?”

“They are residents of the cottages on the far side of the stables, my Lady.”

Adalyn thought for a moment. “I believe I’ve seen them…”

“You’ve been busy settling in,” remarked Giles. “But yes, I think a tour of the estate might be in order soon.”

“Oh, I would like that.” She glanced out of the window to see a brisk breeze with some sunlight. “Would today be possible?”

“I don’t see why not. Daniel would be your best choice for a companion, since he’s very knowledgeable about the land, the tenants and so on.”

“So the maids are my tenants?” She pursued the question uppermost on her mind.

He nodded. “Yes. From time to time we are notified of families who need some kind of assistance, for various reasons. Those cottages are reserved specifically for such cases, with the understanding that

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