Prologue
Laughter and music drifted over Wolfbridge Manor on the warm breeze of a late autumn afternoon. For once the weather had obliged and the harvest festival planned by the Lady of Wolfbridge and her household had taken place beneath blue skies that showed nary a hint of the appalling rains that drowned the past spring, or the bitter cold of the previous winter.
Adalyn Wilkerson was thrilled to bits, and by the end of the day guessed she must have walked a distance at least equal to the entire perimeter of her estate.
As the Lady of Wolfbridge, it was Adalyn’s place to mastermind such events, and though it had taken her a while to become accustomed to such matters, today had been a splendid success and she was exhausted but proud that all had gone so well.
“Yer did a marvel ‘ere, m’Lady,” said Mrs Barnsley, a local lady of much prestige. “I knew yer would, but ’tis good to see it ‘appen.”
“I’m so happy, Mrs B.” Adalyn rested in a chair next to the older woman. “Everyone seems to have had a lovely time.”
“Bit o’ dancin’ later, they tell me?”
“I heard that too,” she grinned. “But to be honest, I doubt I’ll be kicking up my heels. I just want to put up my feet.”
“And yerself so young…?” Mrs Barnsley chuckled. “I’d thought yon Daniel would ‘ave yer out there whirlin’ with the best of ‘em.”
Adalyn gazed across the lawn to where a tall man was talking earnestly with another tall man. “He has me in a whirl all the time, you know.”
“Ah, that’s the way it is when yer find the right one.”
“It wasn’t easy.” Another man joined Daniel. “I love them all so much.”
“If I were only twenty years younger,” sighed Mrs Barnsley.
Adalyn chuckled. “You would have every man languishing, I have no doubt.”
“I’d ‘ave every man tired out, lass, that I would.” She laughed aloud, then blinked. “Just between us, of course. Wouldn’t want Mr B. hearin’ that.”
“I quite understand.”
“Yer gonna wed the lad then?”
“Yes, I am.” Adalyn’s heart sped up at the thought. “There are matters I have to take care of first, though. Because once I marry, I must leave Wolfbridge.”
“Aye. I ‘eard somethin’ about that,” Mrs Barnsley replied sadly. “We’ll miss yer.”
“As will I.” She sighed. “We’re hoping to be able to live somewhere nearby, but as I said, other things come first.”
“Yer’ll be talkin’ of young Trick, then?”
Adalyn swallowed roughly. “He’s confined, Mrs B. I cannot think about leaving until he is free.”
“Jane said he’s still ‘opeful…”
“I am so thankful for Jane. She’s been a constant support to Trick—and myself—since this mess started.” Adalyn sought out the gold head and the tall slender body of Mrs Barnsley’s daughter, finding her chatting with some young mothers. “And she’s made many friends.”
“She ‘as,” nodded her mother proudly. “With them scars, it’s a good thing, since she’s standin’ taller now. Not ‘iding so much.”
The unfortunate incident that had resulted in boiling water scarring half of Jane’s face had been put to rest by the friendship and respect she now enjoyed. At least Adalyn hoped so.
“And we might be close to finding out who was responsible for Sir Amery’s death,” mused Adalyn, more to herself than to her companion.
“That’ll be a good thing. I don’t like Fivetrees just layin’ there. Next yer know it’ll be fallin’ down in pieces.” She glanced at Adalyn. “Young Miss Fairhurst doing all right then, is she?”
“From what I hear, yes,” answered Adalyn. “She is making new friends in London thanks to Sir Laurence and Lady Sydenham. And something called the Wednesday Club, although I’m not sure what that is.”
“As long as she’s safe,” said the woman who mothered half the county. “And ‘ere comes yer young man.”
