The Wild Child Read Online Free PDF

forth in disquiet. Most of the males who worked at Warfield were middle-aged or older, but this one was young and virile, in the prime of life. A man used to getting his way by natural right. One who rode like a conqueror. He must have come to dine with the ladies again. She’d not go to the meal. At this season, there was scarcely any reason to enter the house at all. She could sleep in the tree house and forage for food. Yes, she’d stay away until the man left, for her home would not be the same while he was here. The long drive from London had been a bore, but Kyle’s horse, Pegasus, was a treat. With Warfield near, Dominic saddled the beast and rode ahead, reaching his destination well before the dour Morrison and the lumbering coach. The gatekeeper remembered him—or rather, Kyle—and greeted him with frank interest. The story of Lady Meriel’s betrothal must be known to the servants. He trotted leisurely to the house along an avenue shaded by great spreading lime trees. The park, the semicultivated area surrounding the house, was a magnificent expanse of rolling landscape. Trees and shrubs were scattered across the velvety green turf, while grazing cows and small, shy deer kept the grass trim and the trees free of branches up to the height of a cow’s head. Except for a section bounded by the river, this particular park was entirely walled in, according to Kyle. Convenient for keeping mad girls from wandering off.
    Dominic reined in Pegasus when the house came into sight. Built of the same gray stone as the park wall, it was a sprawling, symmetrical structure with gables and a steep-pitched slate roof. A hundred and fifty years or so old, he guessed.
    The formal seat of the Earls Grahame was in Lincolnshire, on the other side of England. Meriel’s uncle lived there, but her parents had preferred Warfield, which had been in the family of Meriel’s mother for centuries. Presumably Kyle would let his wife stay here in her familiar home after they married, while he himself spent most of his time at Dornleigh or in London. He could visit when he felt the need for a child or two.
    Mouth tight, Dominic guided Pegasus around the house to the stables. No one was in sight. He dismounted and led the horse inside. Though the building was large, only a handful of stalls were occupied, mostly by aging carriage horses.
    He glanced around, wondering if he’d have to rub down his own horse. He wouldn’t mind; in fact, he preferred caring for his beasts himself, but Kyle would expect better service. Then a groom as elderly as the gatekeeper creaked into view. “G’day, Lord Maxwell.” He bobbed his head respectfully. “Shall I take your horse?”
    Dominic passed over his reins. He almost added a casual comment about the fine weather, then bit the words back. Kyle was not given to conversation with unknown servants. It also belatedly occurred to him that his brother would not have left his hat in the carriage, as Dominic had. After explaining that his luggage would arrive later, he made his way toward the house, reviewing what he’d been told about the household, for this was the most critical stage of his visit. Lady Meriel was supervised by two elderly widows, distant cousins of some sort, Mrs. Rector and Mrs. Marks. Kyle had been dismissive of the pair, saying they would be easily deceived. Dominic was less sure. In his experience, little old ladies were often observant, especially since Kyle’s visit would have been an exciting event in an otherwise quiet life.
    As he reached the bottom of the steps, the door opened and two women emerged, smiling in welcome. The smaller one was soft and round and sweetly fey, with very white hair. The other was taller, with an angular face and hair blended of brown and silvery gray. He realized with alarm that he hadn’t the vaguest idea which was which.
    The angular woman said, “Lord Maxwell, so good to see you again. I trust your journey was pleasant.”
    Uneasily he recognized