Mandy (9 page)

“You owe? Your duty? No doubt, you are only afraid the scandal will come back at you!” Mandy seethed.

“Indeed, I would not like that at all,” he said watching her stomp about.

“You are a perfectly selfish and horrid man,” Mandy told him with a wag of her finger. “You did not bother with us, or how we went on, regardless of what you owed your father. Now, when it might come back to haunt you, when a scandal might interfere with your standing with the
haute ton,
you appear and think yourself a wonderful thing!”

The duke eyed her and looked as though he was about to deliver a set down when Ned interrupted them to say, “Look now, Your Grace, Mandy…let us move off the open road.”

“My intentions, exactly,” said the duke. “Pick up your pistol and my driver’s and mount up. Your sister and I shall follow on her horse.”

“I shall not ride with you,” protested Mandy. “I will ride with my brother.”

“No, Miss Sherborne. I have no faith in the pair of you and suspect at the first chance you would ride off without me. I don’t intend to allow that to happen, as that would put me to the trouble of searching every inch of land until I found you and let me assure you, I can be tenacious.” He eyed her deliberately, “Now unless you intend on walking…?” He was already in the saddle and reaching a hand down to her. “Come, ‘tis time you two show me where you have been hiding yourselves.”

Ned hoisted himself into his saddle and watched as his sister allowed the duke who had her hand, to use the stirrup and hoist herself up. He situated her in front of him on the saddle which she found extremely uncomfortable. She tried to hitch herself up and straddling finally found a spot that didn’t quite hurt.

He had the reins in one hand, and his left arm around her waist.

“You needn’t hold me. I know how to sit a horse.”

“So you do,” he said not easing up on his hold.

“This is not comfortable, you are holding me too tightly,” she announced as she tried to find a fit.

“Is it not? I have no complaint,” he murmured, not giving her an inch.

“Well, that is because you have the entire saddle under you, and I seem to be straddling poor Chester’s neck.

“I imagine we don’t have far to go…so buck up, you’ll do,” he answered.

She grimaced and said nothing.

A few moments later, they approached the abbey ruins and she did a quick scan before they rode toward the makeshift barn.

Dismounting, they hurriedly put the horses away, where Mandy made certain there was water in the trough while Ned and the duke undid the tack and put it away.

The duke said nothing as he followed the twins and Mandy noted to herself that he was taking it all in. They removed the rocks and straw covering the trap door, and descended the wooden steps to a long narrow corridor of stone and earth to the dimly torch lit and vaulted chamber they had been using at the far end of the tunnel.

As they entered, Chauncey awoke with a snort and knuckled his eyes. He stared at the duke and remarked,
“Coo
…lud bless ye, loveys. What ‘ave ye brought me?”

Chapter Six

VISCOUNT SKIPPENDON’S DARK coach rolled easily over the surprisingly smooth main pike. It was a bright summer day and the sun gave its rays lovingly, as it spread its light over the harebells in the adjoining fields.

The purple tints of heather brushed the breeze with a gentle scent as the black carriage passed and invited all passerbys to enjoy the intoxicating fruits of the season. However, the duke was lost in thought.

Refreshed by a night’s rest, the viscount’s driver seemed to have forgotten the event of the previous day. He made no mention of it to the duke when he opened the door for the duke to climb inside earlier.

Unlike Skip’s driver, the duke had not passed a restful evening and did not notice the beauty of the passing landscape. He cared naught for the poetic sweetness of a pleasant summer’s day, and in fact, he was in a black mood.

He sat back in Skip’s coach, his hat on the seat beside him and made a mess of his hair as his hands could not be stilled. His eyes were shaded by his thick lashes as flitting thoughts hurried about in his head.

His meeting with Chauncey the previous afternoon had gone from close-mouthed suspicion on the groom’s part to sudden undisguised and open frankness. He had flung one question after another at the older man and then at Ned. Mandy kept to one side as he threw questions at her brother and groom, and for the most part, this served his purpose. He could see she wasn’t ready to confide, trust or speak openly with him.

He now felt he was in possession of all the pertinent details of the Sherborne dilemma. He had then drawn three conclusions. One: he found he liked young Lord Sherborne. Two: he had decided the lad was an innocent, completely innocent of the crime of which he had been accused. Three: the lad’s prospects looked grim indeed.

The duke had risen from the hour long session in the damp underground chamber the twins had fashioned for themselves deeply troubled. He saw at once that Chauncey would give his life for the twins, had in fact, done just that, in a manner of speaking. He saw that Mandy’s determination to keep her brother safe would always outweigh her good sense, and that he had better take charge of all facets immediately.

He made up his mind to visit their ‘so called uncle’, the Squire Bevis and his son Alfred. He needed to see for himself just what these two men were at bottom. Skip had already given him enough information to draw a conclusion, but as always, he wanted to question them and see whether or not they actually believed Ned guilty of murdering the Brinley girl.

The duke observed at once that the squire’s home was excellently maintained but of modest proportions. Its Tudor walls were acceptably mellowed and displayed an array of trimmed ivy.

His driver reined the big matched bays alongside the front courtyard steps and the duke didn’t bother waiting for the driver as he opened the door and jumped nimbly out of the coach.

Smiling to himself, he perched his top hat rakishly on his head of black hair, adjusted his vest and took the steps to the front door which was immediately opened by an elderly retainer.

The duke walked inside a small central hall, handed the weathered fellow his card and said pleasantly, “You may advise the squire that I am here on a matter of utmost urgency and hope he will forgive the suddenness of my visit.”

The butler looked stricken and said, “I regret, Your Grace—most assuredly I do—that the squire is away from home.”

“And Mr. Speenham…is he also away from home?”

The butler’s expression immediately relaxed, obviously pleased to answer in the positive and said, “Mr. Speenham is in the morning room taking breakfast.”

“Then if you will be so kind as to take him my card, I shall be pleased to wait here,” the duke said, dropping his gloves and top hat on the wall table beside him.

The elderly retainer made a slight bow and hurried off. When he returned, it was with a bow of his head, as he said Mr. Speenham would be pleased to have you join him at the table for breakfast.

The duke was led down a dark corridor to a surprisingly small but bright room and raised a brow to find a young portly man in a gold dressing gown, cutting his ham and stuffing his face.

Alfred Speenham put down his fork, got to his feet and extended a hand, “Your Grace, how can I express my infinite pleasure to have you visit me in my home. It’s such an honor.” He waved the hand the duke had immediately released toward the table, “Do please, sit and join me. ‘Tis a simple fare as I detest the sight of red meat in the morning, but I can have some brought up for you if you like.”

“Unnecessary, sir, I have already breakfasted,” said the duke determined to be friendly although he had already formed an aversion for the man. He knew it wasn’t fair, but it was what it was. He seemed to have a knack of knowing who he would like and who he would not, based solely on one’s initial comportment.

The duke took a chair and sat facing his host, while the butler poured him coffee. He thanked the elderly retainer and waited only for the man to leave and close the door behind him before saying, “No doubt, Mr. Speenham, you may have guessed why I am here.”

Alfred managed a grave expression. “Ah yes, these weeks have been simply dreadful, both for my father and me. You can have no notion what it is like to have one’s name connected with a suspected murderer’s. Why, I have been avoiding all activity outside our grounds, in hopes that the talk will subside.”

“I sympathize with you,” the duke said softly taking the young man’s measure. A sudden urge to give Speenham a stiff set down had to be ignored. He was here for information.

“Indeed, today my father is off to Walboro for he received word from a friend that my cousin, Edward was seen in that vicinity,” Alfred said on a hushed tone.

“Allow me to ask if your and your father believe Lord Sherborne guilty of the crime of which he has been accused?” the duke asked quietly as he studied Alfred for a reaction.

Alfred’s eyes narrowed and the duke realized the young man was not as much a fool as he presented to the world. Speenham was in fact, actually studying him. Well, well, thought the duke, this would prove interesting.

Alfred seemed to choose his words carefully, “Ah, do we, his family, think him guilty? It has been difficult not to. He was seeing Celia clandestinely and then the page from her diary, with Aunt Agatha swearing that Celia meant to force his hand to marry her. Perhaps in a desperate moment…who knows?”

“And what of his sister?” the duke pursued.

“Amanda, poor lovely, my darling Amanda. Why she had nothing to do with it. No, no. However, she is his loyal twin and also inclined to impulsiveness. One must not blame her for helping him to escape…in her mind, I am certain she was rescuing him from a false accusation.” He shook his head, “My father put it well, only this morning before he left for Walboro. He said,
mark me Alfred, Amanda is a spirited female, but we’ll not allow her to be ruined by these actions.”

“Am I to understand that your father intends to locate his nephew and bring him to stand trial?” at this point the duke found it impossible to disguise his displeasure.

“Indeed, what else can he do, but you needn’t worry about Amanda. If she is to be my wife one day, we will not allow this terrible crime to implicate her in any way.”

The duke nearly choked. The thought of the spirited Mandy as wife to the pompous ass before him galled. “Your wife?” the duke raised a brow and had a strong urge to land him a settler. “Impossible. I had no word from you asking for her hand, and she
is
my ward.”

“Well, as to that, I haven’t yet started to court her, but it is my intention. When we put this matter behind us, if she is still under your guardianship, I will of course, apply to you for her hand,” Alfred said without heat. He frowned and continued, “And I never discussed it with Amanda as of course…”

“Never mind,” the duke waved it all off. “Back to the meat of the matter. We must remember that there is bound to be mud slung about and as you and your father are related to the Sherborne twins and I am connected as their guardian, diffusing the situation is urgent.”

“Precisely, but there seems to be nothing for it,” Alfred sighed obviously unconcerned.

The duke tried another approach, “Were you well acquainted with poor Miss Celia?”

“She was exquisite and sophisticated in a most alluring fashion, unlike Amanda who is while stunning, quite a hoyden,” Alfred said and sighed.

Again, the duke had the strongest urge to plant a fist in the man’s face. He managed to control himself and said only, “Odd.”

“What is?”

“That Miss Celia should have set her cap for Lord Sherborne when she had you in the vicinity obviously taken with her,” the duke stared hard into Alfred’s eyes.

Alfred’s vanity appeared fluffed by this and he rose to the occasion, but the duke rather thought he was putting on a show. “Exactly so. However, she was aware that my father would not allow the match. He did not care for Celia or the fact that she was as poor as a church mouse.” He shook his head, “He thought her beneath our name, said he would cut me out of his will if I chose any woman he did not approve of.” Alfred’s shoulders sagged and reached for his cup of coffee.

“And she knew this?”

Alfred nodded, “Aye, she knew.”

“I see,” the duke said slowly.

    “That is why I believe she settled down and decided to have my cousin, Edward. She knew that was her only chance at this point…”

“Really? Tell me, was there any other who had a tendre for Miss Celia?” the duke asked gently, conspiratorially.

Alfred took the bait, “I had heard rumors about the Viscount Skippendon…said he had remained in the country for so long because he had an eye in her direction.”

This stunned his lordship as nothing up until that moment had. “Are you certain?” he asked.

Alfred shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t be certain, I never saw them together. Could be all a hum.”

“I see,” said the duke more rattled than he thought this meeting would have left him.

* * *

Mandy awoke with a start and gazed about her dark surroundings. She propped herself up on the straw bed and peered through the bleakness of her chamber and sensed rather than saw that she was alone.

She lit the awful smelling tallow candle in the pewter holder sitting on the cold stone floor and spotted a scribbled note.

She grabbed it up and read,

Mandy,

Don’t fret. Went off on a little errand with Chauncey. The duke hasn’t brought back your horse yet, so we decided not to wake you. I’ll explain everything later.

Don’t walk about today…just don’t. Chauncey said you are to just stay put.

Ned

Mandy as she often reminded her twin, had entered the world a good four minutes before him. She was his elder, his confidante, his faithful friend. And this was how he had treated her? Odious boy, she was going to box his ears when he got back.

She poured cold water into her basin and shivered as she washed up and got dressed in the shirt and breeches she had been wearing while they were in hiding. She took a few extra moments to brush her long blonde hair and then braided it, and made her way outdoors.

It was a beautiful summer day and she breathed the sweet scents of the heather in deeply and thought of the duke.

He was the most annoying, controlling, arrogant man she had ever known, and yet, the image of him in her mind set her heart to fluttering absurdly.

His presence and he had such presence, sent sparks of excitement rushing through her body. She couldn’t look into his blue glittering eyes without suddenly falling apart. Where was the independent young woman when he was near? Gone, that’s where. He turned her into a ball of emotions that wrapped her mind with confusion. Just what was wrong with her?

Yes, she was a green girl, she knew this and he was an experienced rogue. What did she know about love-making?

 She hadn’t had more than a few outrageous kisses in the last few years, but she knew and understood a great deal.

She and her friends had often giggled about the handsome blacksmith in town and her dearest friend Lucy had told her that she had allowed him to take her in the alley behind his shop and kiss and touch her till she swooned. Lucy said she meant to go back in the evening to do more of the same.

Mandy had warned her, pointing out that in the new novel,
Pride and Prejudice
by Jane Austin, which they had been reading over and over again, since its release in January that a properly raised young woman would never engage in such outrageous behavior.

Lucy had wagged a finger and laughed saying that Lydia, Elizabeth’s young sister, in the novel, had run off with Wickham, without the benefit of marriage and while she didn’t intend to do that, she did intend to have a little fun, after all. Why not, she had asked Mandy, men do the very same thing without the benefit of marriage—so why should they be deprived the same thrills?

Mandy thought about this and sighed.

Indeed, she had been kissed, in fact, recently by Sir Owen and it had been a pleasant, although not an earth shattering experience like the one Lucy had described the kisses with the blacksmith had been.