Mandy (10 page)

She sighed and pushed these meanderings aside. What had that to do with anything?

At the moment, her brother and Chauncey had literally left her in the dark, treating her as though…as though she didn’t signify. It was vexing in the extreme.

Well, it wasn’t all their fault, because the truth of the matter was that she was without a horse because of the odious duke!

She made her way outside, where she hurried to the woods and took a deer path toward the rivulet.

Life at the moment was a bit trying. Perhaps she had not thought things through when she broke her brother out of prison?

She was hungry, she was blue-deviled and wasn’t sure what the future would hold. She found the berry bush she had been seeking and stood eating berries for a time.

From the position of the sun, it was getting close to noon. Would they be back yet? A pleasant breeze swept over her and she opened her leather waistcoat as she climbed over the rocks and took a shortcut to the abbey ruins.

Finally, she found a shady spot, well hidden from immediate view, dropped down and leaned back against the weathered limestone of the ruins.

She must have dosed for a sudden sound made her jump forward as her eyes snapped open.

He stood there blotting out the sun.

As before, she thought of a mountain when she looked up at him. He was so broad in the buckskin riding jacket he wore. His breeches hugged his lower body and his thighs were muscular and for a moment she allowed her eyes to travel down and then back up. She swallowed as her gaze went back to his face. His hair was uncovered and black, so black as it blew around his well shaped head.

She sucked in air because she was sure if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to breathe for there was nothing left in her lungs.

She had to sit up, she had to speak. She had to pull herself together.

Didn’t she?

He stepped toward her and she noticed he held the reins of two horses, one of them her own. She immediately jumped to her feet and squeaked out,
“Oh
…we can put them in the barn.” Why did he have such an affect on her? Last night, he made her want to pull out her hair with frustration. He was arrogant and dominant and didn’t let on what he was thinking and…

“Good morning…or rather, afternoon to you
as well,
Miss Sherborne,” he said with an inclination of his head.

“Yes, yes…I am sorry, I don’t know where my manners have fled. I suppose living in the wild and all,” she managed to give him a fleeting smile as she took her horse from him and led him forward without looking back to see if the duke followed.

They spanned the short distance to the dilapidated stone building where they had been housing their horses. The duke looked inside and asked, “Where are Ned and Chauncey?”

“Not sure, they were gone when I woke up. They left me sleeping…as…” she glared at him. “I didn’t have a horse.”

He grinned and then sighed, “How long did you think you could remain in hiding here?”

“Long enough,” she said not meeting his eyes. She had, in fact, believed they would find the diary and Elly Bonner in a short span of time and the nightmare would be over. Evidently, this thought—erroneous.

The duke gave her speculative look, and loosened his horse’s girth while she undid her horse’s bridle and removed it to hang it on a nail in the wall before undoing the girth of her saddle.

All the while, she found it difficult to think. He walked around as though he had the answers to everything and that no one knew anything save himself.
He was insufferable
.

He turned just as she began lifting her saddle off her horse and hurried to take it from her. She resisted, telling him, “Oh, I am quite used to doing this for myself.”

“I am sure and yet,
not
when
I
am here to do it for you,” he answered firmly.

She maintained her hold on the saddle. A streak of stubbornness suddenly took control of her senses and she answered coldly, “And still
, I can do it
, thank you.”

“And as a gentleman, I am afraid, that even though you are dressed like a lad and have probably forgotten that you are a lady,
still I am a gentleman
.” So saying, he pulled on her saddle.

Incensed with him and what he had said to her, she pulled back hard, tripped over the uneven flooring behind her and with a short cry flung her hands up as she fell backward and landed on her rump.

What was worse than the embarrassment and pain to her backside was the fact that he looked as though he was about to burst out laughing. There was, in fact, a chuckle to the sound of his next words. “Miss Sherborne…are you all right?”

Feeling as though someone had lit a flame to her cheeks, she started to scramble to her feet and found his arm around her waist steadying and helping her to stand.

She pushed at him and said pugnaciously, “I am fine.” Was she fine? He was so close, his lips so close. Would he kiss her?

“Are you?”

Oh, but she could see the laughter in his eyes and wanted to slap him. She did raise her finger and tell him, “I will tell you this, Your Grace,
yours
are the manners that are lacking, not mine. Yes, I am dressed like a boy to avoid detection. Yes, my toiletries here are meager, but it is because we had no choice but to flee. We had no help at the time and no one to turn to. You come here all curt and majestic and above us all, thinking yours is the only way, but where were you this past year? My brother and Chauncey may be convinced that you will see us through this ugly business,
but I,
Your Grace, am not convinced.”

“Are you not? No, you are impulsive, childish, and foolish beyond imagination. However, I will allow that you are distressed because of your present circumstances and forgive your rudeness.”

She stomped her foot at him, “Rudeness? Ooooh.”

“We seem to have gotten off to a rough beginning. Know this my dear, I mean to help Ned and none of the rest matters as long as I do
just that.”

She eyed him for a long moment and relented, “Well, I…I…I suppose I must forgive you the rest then, if you mean to help Ned.”

“
Forgive me
, Miss Sherborne? Forgive…?” he seemed momentarily speechless.

She cut him off,
“
I shall allow you to call me Mandy. As you are my guardian, it is only fitting you should call me by my name.” She was all too conscious of the way she must look in her brother’s clothing and was suddenly flustered by it. Why she should care, she couldn’t tell, but suddenly she did.

“But my dear, your name is Amanda and it is a lovely name. Shall I not call you Amanda?” He had stepped closer to her.

What was he doing? Why was he coming so close? Why was she shaking? Perhaps, not quite shaking, but she felt her body tremble as shivers darted through her body. His eyes,
faith, but his eyes were so blue.
And all at once, she knew—she wanted him to kiss her, hoped absurdly that he would kiss her.
Was she mad
? He was annoying and arrogant and all she wanted was for him to take her into his arms and kiss her.

He evidently did not have any intention of doing so and she stood breathless as he continued to talk in the low husky seductive voice of his. “Shall I call you Amanda, then?” he asked again.

“No, I prefer Mandy,” she managed to say and then waved her hand as she continued to explain, hoping to banish her wayward thoughts. “You see, Amanda was what my father called me when he was angry and he was angry with me a great deal of the time. My mother always called me Mandy, as did my grandpapa, and of course, Mandy is what Ned calls me…” she chuckled and added, “Among other things, but you see, Mandy is who I am.”

He eyed her and a brief smile lit up his face. It occurred to her that a woman could get lost in his smile—
she could get lost in his smile
.

He spoke softly when he finally said, “Mandy it is, then.”

She needed to say something, anything for suddenly she couldn’t think. Was that her feet that took her closer to him? That couldn’t be her, moving toward him, could it? She felt a fool because she couldn’t stop herself as she looked up at his face.

Her hand fluttered as his bright blues stared down at her and she saw something there, something that made her sure he was going to kiss her.

She had to say something. She simply couldn’t just stand there like an idiot. Her mind was frazzled with flitting thoughts as she said, “I…I interrupted you earlier. You were saying, something…”

“Was I?” he waved it off as his gaze drifted over her mouth, down her neck, back to her mouth and then met her eyes intently. “I only want you to know, that I will see you and your brother though this tangle—I am determined.”

His lingering survey of her features had left her with her toes literally curling in her boots. How she wished her hair was brushed long around her shoulders, and that instead of the boy’s clothing covering her, she had something fashionable, feminine and alluring covering her body. She turned partially away from him, unable to meet his penetrating eyes and said, “Matters do look grave, Your Grace.”

“Even so, we shall get out of this.” He sighed heavily and then said encouragingly, “As I have already told you, I believe your twin innocent of the charges. What I think is that I have a great deal to do, if I am to prove it so. He was not the father of Miss Celia’s unborn child, of that I am certain. He never meant her any harm, and could never have injured her let alone murdered her in cold blood. That could only have been done by someone with little heart and no conscience, and your brother has both.” He sighed and pulled a face before he continued, “However, I visited with your deplorable cousin Alfred earlier this morning and it appears as though he and his father mean to run you to ground if only to show themselves as above board in this matter. And if you are thinking of marrying that oaf
, I, as your guardian
, strongly advise against it.”

“Marry Alfred?” Mandy suddenly was side-tracked from all else. “Such a nightmare never occurred to me.”

He was now so near, she could feel his breath as he towered over her, bent his head a bit and touched her cheek. “Tell me lovely Mandy, how is it no one has applied to me for your hand in this past year?”

His nearness was almost overwhelming. This is what it meant when Lucy had told her that her blacksmith left her unable to breathe. This is what ‘desire’ felt like. Lucy had tried to describe it, but nothing came close to what she was experiencing.

She felt the heat swim through her blood and burn her cheeks. She felt the steam cloud the vision before her eyes, “Well as to that, other than a few school girl crushes I had while growing up, and I have never felt a decided partiality for anyone.” She frowned and because she was incurably open, added, “Although more recently Sir Owen well, then this happened and…”

“I see. Sir Owen, you say?” returned the duke zeroing in on one thing. “Are you saying the rogue has been courting you?”

“I wouldn’t call it courting…as he has made no declaration to my brother even, but he has shown…an interest.” Her eyes opened wide. “Do you know him?”

“I know of him, and have seen him in passing often in London,” he answered abruptly and then remarked, “You have never had a London season? How is that?”

“Well, when I came of age…grandpapa fell ill and I couldn’t leave him—wouldn’t ever think of doing so. Then the following year, we lost him and I was in mourning and then, well time simply slipped away.”

“I should have seen to it,” he said frowning. “It seems I have been thoughtless.”

She was startled to hear such a declaration of him. She hadn’t thought that he was capable of such sensibility. By this time, he was so very close to her that she could swear his hard rock self was an inch away.

Step away, she told her traitorous body, but she didn’t want to. Her heart had taken over and she could hear it arguing with her mind. It was time she was kissed by someone who knew what he was doing. It was time she wanted to be kissed by someone she found this attractive, it was time, it was time,
it was time.

She was all too aware of her heart beating faster than she had ever thought possible. Could he hear her heart pounding as blood rushed to her brain? Could he hear it? She fancied that she could hear it. It was as though her heart had two large fists and was slamming them against the inside of her chest, telling her what it needed.
Faith
, she had never felt this way before and this was trouble, so much trouble.

He had the look of a rogue, a rogue who had a bevy of women. No doubt he did not find her desirable. She was, in fact, quite a mess with her hair in disarray and running about like nothing more than a dirty urchin.

She was suddenly ashamed and even so, she was unable to turn away from him.

She stared into those deep blue eyes of his and found herself getting onto her tippy toes. What was she doing? What? But she knew, he was going to kiss her, and she…she moved toward that kiss.

* * *

He had seen her lying back against the mossy boulders, her eyes closed, her dark knit cap cast aside near her slender hip. Her blonde hair with its wispy curls around her forehead and dainty ears was fetching and…
egad!
She was stunning.