“He loves that woman to the edge of madness,” said Jeremy, standing just behind Gwyneth.
She allowed herself the luxury of leaning back against him. “She’s lucky.”
His hand slipped around her waist and he held her close for a few moments. “We all love you, you know that, don’t you? We can’t help it. And if anything should happen to you…” His arm tightened, and his voice trembled a little.
“I know.” She touched his hand at her waist. “I love you all too. And it won’t. As long as we’re careful and sensible.”
“Ugh.” The lighthearted Jeremy returned and she felt his lips on the back of her neck. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She smiled at his jest, and he released her as several women saw her at the door and waved.
It was time to end this day as it had begun…with laughter and music. But lingering thoughts of Evan lying upstairs with his shoulder in a thick bandage haunted Gwyneth’s mind and heart.
Because she couldn’t avoid the knowledge that if not for Evan, she would be the one lying there. And she might not have been so lucky…
ChapterTwenty-Nine
In the days that followed, Gwyneth found herself surprised by a steady flow of pretty much everyone living near Wolfbridge who had discovered a reason to “drop by” and inquire as to Evan and his health.
It brought home to her how valued the Manor was; how important a role it played in the lives of so many people, not only those who resided and worked on the estate itself.
Thankfully, Evan was an excellent patient, and less than five days after the incident he was up and around and sitting outside in the sunshine, greeting his friends and visitors with his usual good humour.
To everyone’s surprise, Gabriel had assumed command of the kitchen, and although he didn’t have Evan’s magic touch, he managed creditable bread, revealed a dab hand at the simple foods, and even attempted a cake which—in spite of being a wee bit lopsided—was declared by all to be very tasty indeed.
The shooting itself remained uppermost in everyone’s mind, and conversations and theories ran rampant throughout the little community. Several villagers had helped to replace the glass in the ballroom, so there was little evidence left of the event itself. Giles, Royce and Trick had spent quite a bit of time outside, trying to work out the most logical location for the source of the shot.
Jeremy had stayed by her side. It was a given, now, since one fact had emerged with startling clarity.
It was most likely thatshehad been the original target, but Evan had moved in front of her just in time.
“I saw the gun, Giles.” He’d told them all at the same time, and his words had taken them aback. “I was looking out the window at the storm. The lightning was ferocious, and there were two huge flashes…the entire world seemed to flare to life.” He shuddered. “And in that second I saw a man with a gun. He was beneath the trees at the edge of the lawn, quite some distance away, but he was aiming at us.”
“And you moved in front of me…” She breathed the words.
“It was instinctive.” He grinned wryly. “Believe me, I had no intention of getting shot. I just wasn’t sure what was happening.”
“But you didn’t recognise the man?” Giles asked the question quietly but with a great deal of intensity in his gaze.
“I didn’t, no. And I’m sorry for that. Average height, dark hair…and what could have been hunting clothes, but the main thing I recall is that he had a gun up to his shoulder…that’s what struck me most.”
From that moment on, Gwyneth had found herself with an escort and although she had complained about it, she could not avoid it. And in all honesty, she did feel a little better knowing that there would always be someone at her side. But for how long?
At least in the house she had more leeway, and since the weather had turned to rain, she did not mind having her gentlemen pop their heads around the door of whatever room she was in, just to make sure she was all right.
Evan had already returned to his domain, but as yet was forbidden to pick up a pot. Under his tutelage, Gabriel was improving his culinary skills, and she spent a delightful afternoon listening to Evan’s instructions as he taught Gabriel how to create a pie. She learned the secret of pastry making, and also a few new curse words. Those she stored up to be taken out and used when necessary.
The other men were also protective of Evan, but probably would have denied it loudly if it had been pointed out to them. It was still another example of how Wolfbridge brought people together in ways that linked them into a unit, whether they realised it or not. Both Gabriel and Royce were newcomers, and yet here they were, sharing tasks with Jeremy, ragging Evan mercilessly, and guarding her as if she were their queen and they her brave knights.
It was a strange time, but it gave her the opportunity to catch her breath a little after the entire episode of the Whit Sunday adventures.
And, of course, it gave her time to wonder who would want her dead.
She posed the question one evening as they all sat comfortably around the brandy tray in the Rose room. Evan was there, enjoying his first glass since his wounding.
“What would anyone have to gain by my death? That’s what is puzzling me.” She sipped and stared into the small fire they’d lit. The day had been cool and damp, and the flames were a welcome glow.
“It certainly can’t be anyone who is familiar with Wolfbridge,” said Jeremy thoughtfully. “Everyone knows that the estate is entailed within the Wolfbridge line of women. So if something should happen to you, Gwyneth—God forbid—it would pass to the next Lady.”
