Mandy (13 page)

“By Jove, yes!” Ned said cheering up. “We noted this stranger had arrived at the inn, and he had a look about him. Well, can’t say, I noticed, but Chauncey here is a right ‘un, up to snuff on everything. Said the cove didn’t look like a cit, farmer or a gentleman. Said it was time we loped off. We were doing just that, when the fellow up and raises his bumper of ale at us, and calls on the weather for conversation.” Ned made a quirky face, “Right, so we told him it was well enough and what must he do but call on us to join him in a drink.” Ned shook his head and looked at Chauncey. “We nearly died on the spot because by then, we had a notion what he was, you see. Well, we tried to cry off, but he would hear nothing of it.” He gave his sister’s shoulder a shove, “Mandy, he tipped his hat and told us his name.
Fowler
, he said
, my name is Fowler and I am looking to lease some summer lodging.”

“Oh Ned! I don’t like that, not one bit. Why you? Why of all the people at the tavern did he single you two out?”

“Aye, we didn’t like it very much either,” Ned answered. “By that time, Chauncey had managed to tell me the cove was a runner and that we had to make our way out and fast.”

“How did you know he was a runner?” Mandy asked of Chauncey.

“He gave me pricklies down me spine, he did. Suspicioned he was a redbreast the moment I clapped eyes on him—prune-faced, he is and with cat-sticks for legs. That laid all doubt to rest and then his name…could only be a runner.”

“Oh Faith! He is the one that is staying in Harrowgate. He must have known who you were…he must have.”

“Now missy, don’t take on so. As it happens I don’t think he was really interested in us. No, seemed to be more interested in the lay of the land.”

“Well, that is interesting,” the duke put in quietly.

“Is it?” Mandy said thoughtfully, “Ah, yes he would want to know where he might find Ned in hiding…perhaps investigate by getting a feeling for the surrounding landscape.”

“Did he inquire after the abbey Ruins?” the duke asked Chauncey as he chose to ignore Mandy.

“No. He wanted to know about the York Road. Wanted to know if there were any hidden caves of limestone…any old quarries in that vicinity, like the one up at the Peak. Said he was interested in such things,” Chauncey answered.

“Aye, and then Chauncey told him we weren’t familiar with the area,” Ned stuck in.

“That’s right. Told him we were strangers ourselves. Then this noddle here,” he said indicating Ned with a wave of his hand, “Had a mind to be helpful and started to describe a track of the canyon off the Wharfe River and would have gone on and on if I hadn’t thought to spill his ale.”

Ned pulled a face and folded his arms across his chest.

Chauncey poked a finger in the air at Ned. “Told ye he was a runner. Ye don’t talk to a runner anymore than ye have to.” Having said this, he produced a length of dried beef from his inner pocket and tore a piece off and began to chew.

“Not to my particular taste, but hungry…hand a piece over, Chauncey,” Ned said putting out his hand.

Chauncey cast the duke a look and with a twinkling eye gave Ned a length of the dried beef and sat back to enjoy his.

Mandy gaped at them and remembered that she was starving. As she watched her brother eat, she collected a diatribe of abuse to ring down on his head for not sharing, when a loaf of bread was dropped into her hands. She looked up and saw the duke’s blues glittering with laughter. Reluctantly she thanked him and sat with her bread and imagined her favorite hot meal. While she ate her bread, she saw Chauncey hand the duke a bottle of wine and noticed that his smile could be quite boyish and so very charming at times.

Chauncey got up and went to his saddlebags and returned with additional and far more delectable selection of food. She found the fresh drumsticks, and day old tarts delicious as she fell on these with great enthusiasm and grinning looked up to find the duke’s eyes on her. Oddly, he looked troubled and his voice seemed tinged with concern as he said, “You can’t be allowed to suffer here in the wild much longer. It is unthinkable.”

“When we get Elly and the diary, we’ll be free again, and all will be well,” she answered on a heavy sigh. “Though I am desperately worried about this runner.”

“I wouldn’t be. I don’t think he is here for Ned,” the duke answered thoughtfully.

“Don’t you? Why not?”

“Appearances are often deceiving, Mandy. We must try and take a good look at the big picture, because jumping to the wrong conclusions could entrap us.”

She eyed him thoughtfully. He seemed to care. Well, of course, he cared, she told herself. Why wouldn’t he? His name was attached to theirs! Heaven forbid he might be encased in such a scandal. She was sure that was his only reason for caring.

“I haven’t jumped to conclusions. There is a runner in town. It would be foolhardy not to be wary. It is just too much of a coincidence that a runner is here and Ned and I are in hiding…for…” she let her voice trail off as she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘murder’.

“We both wish I was not in the unfortunate position of being your guardian, but as I am, I shall look out not only for Ned and you, but for Chauncey as well, so you needn’t worry yourself to death over everything,” he said quietly.

“Well, guardian you may be, but I don’t see us any closer to solving this puzzle,” Mandy said and sounded even to her own ears shrewish. Whatever was wrong with her? She felt her moods swing high and low and all because of something the duke would say or wouldn’t say. It was most uncomfortable.

“You will remember that had you not made your brother and your groom fugitives, I would have arrived and been in a much better position of clearing Ned’s name. Even so, I
am here now
and I do not intend to allow anyone to harm any of you.”

Chapter Eight

THE DAY WAS slowly dimming into dusk as the sun settled in the west and cast shadows over the viscount’s beautifully manicured estate, but the duke was scarcely aware of the time or the loveliness of the long summer’s day. Instead, his mind raced with the questions he needed immediate answers for and he marched into the viscount’s well ordered home, ready to demand those answers. It was apparent to all he encountered that he was in a blistering mood.

Sticwell, the viscount’s butler did his best to dispel some of His Grace’s black humor, by inquiring after his needs and although the duke offered him a half smile and a coin for his trouble, his thoughts continued to swirl darkly in his head. Things did not quite meet the eye and he had the distinct notion that his friend was keeping something from him. What it was, he could not fathom, but he was determined to get to the bottom of the coil and unwind it. “Where is the viscount, my man?”

“Housed with his man of business in the study, Your Grace.”

“Would you have him join me in the library as soon as he has finished,” the duke returned and started for the library.

He had two needs: The first, a drink and with that end in mind, he made his way to the library, picked up the decanter of the viscount’s very fine brandy and poured a hefty snifter. This he put to his lips and savored for a few moments before contemplating what lay before him.

The second of his needs he meant to achieve as soon as the viscount appeared and that was to get answers to the very pointed questions he meant to ask. Those questions were bound to give his friend a start and there was the very good chance that Skip would take umbrage, however, the questions needed to be asked. There just was no help for it, because the matter at hand had dropped from serious to dire.

The duke continued to sip at his libation while one hand troubled his hair. He stared at the red roses just outside the panoramic window and dash it, all he could see was
her
face.

Everything about her haunted his thoughts.
Damn,
but the chit was the most infuriating female of his acquaintance…as well as the most desirable.

She was in his blood, keeping his shaft hard and in need. He was damned uncomfortable and he knew he had no business thinking of her the way he did. She was his responsibility and she was he was certain, an innocent who should not be dallied with by such as he. Yet, he didn’t seem to have any control when she was near. It was as though everything about her wrapped itself around him and pulled. He was drawn against his will—
deuce take it all!

Fiend seize this muddle he was trapped within.

He had set out to save his reputation by saving the twins from the scandal they had been plunged into. He now found that he didn’t give a rap for how this affected his standing in the
haute ton
. All he seemed to care about was clearing these two and returning them to their home.

The twins though scamps, though infuriating, though more trouble than he had ever encountered in his hedonistic life, were
both
worth their weight in gold. They were honest and dear hearted. They were like bright shiny stars gleaming through a cloudy sky. Singular beings. No one with an ounce of sense should believe Sherborne capable of murdering anyone, let alone a helpless woman. Damnation, but he could not allow the young lord to be accused of such a crime. It was monstrous. The boy was as pure-hearted a young gentleman as ever he had encountered and he had no doubt that he would have helped Celia had he known the trouble she was in, perhaps even married her to save her name that was the sort of man Ned Sherborne was!

Blister it!

He downed the glass of brandy and poured another, strode over to the yellow brocade sofa and sank down within its cushioned depths. The situation confronting him was a good deal murkier than he had anticipated.

He wanted an immediate solution to the problem of getting his wards safely installed in their homes again. Mandy sleeping on straw, eating stale bread and dried beef for so long was unthinkable. She hadn’t even a season yet. She should have been enjoying routs and balls. She should have been in London taking the
ton
by storm…not sleeping outdoors in the dank underground of an abbey ruins.

Egad
, what was wrong with him? Why was he so affected by all this? He was far too emotional and he didn’t get emotional. He should approach the problem logically, emotion be damned.

Even as he told himself these things, Mandy’s piquant face, her laughing dark eyes, and her spirit—her indomitable spirit teased him so that he was licking his lips with the thought of kissing her.

Sometimes he damn well wanted to take her over his knee…

But oh her pluck, her faith, her determination, made him want to shift her onto that same knee and press it between her thighs…

The door opened again to display Sticwell instead of the Viscount and the duke’s brows rose. When Sticwell announced, Sir Owen, the duke was actually astonished.
Well,
well, what was this?

Sir Owen entered the library, his hand extended, “Your Grace, Sticwell tells me the viscount is momentarily occupied, so I hope I don’t intrude on you by waiting here for him?”

This was an opportunity to investigate the man and see what his intentions toward Mandy actually were, though he had already decided that with his pockets to let, Owen was probably only after Mandy for her inheritance. After all, the man was an inveterate gambler and a notorious petticoat man. It was certainly possible that he had been charmed by Mandy and therefore, perhaps his heart might be in it. Even so, Sir Owen was not the sort of man he would choose for her—not the sort at all!

He looked Sir Owen over as he waved him to be seated. The man was casually dressed in buckskins and an open neck white shirt beneath. His riding boots had been polished and he wore his auburn hair carefully parted and combed.

“Not at all, pour yourself a drink and be comfortable, Sir Owen.” As he watched the man stride over to the wall table he remarked, “I have not seen you about London in a very long time.”

“No, the sorry truth of it is I am on a repairing lease. Recouping my finances while I see to the upkeep of my lands at Turndale Grange…not far from here, about few miles south actually.” He carried his drink and tipped it before taking a sip and sitting on the leather bound chair opposite the duke. He eyed the duke curiously and asked, “What brings
you
all the way from London?”

“The Sherborne twins. I am their legal guardian and Skip made me aware that more than their finances were in need of attention.”

“Indeed,” Sir Owen said slightly surprised.

    “An understatement, I suppose, considering the seriousness of the situation at hand,” stuck in the duke watching for a reaction. “Tell me, what is your interest in the business, for I must surmise that is why you are here?” the duke inquired, his one dark brow up, his tone while not quite threatening, certainly cool.

“Friendship,” Sir Owen said quietly.

The duke was struck by Sir Owen’s reticence. Why was he being so cautious? He felt himself bristle. He was already irritated by the fact that he had witnessed the man take Mandy into his arms. How had he known she would be there? He was however, interested in keeping Sir Owen talking, so he did nothing to give his agitation away. He wanted to get a true measure of the man for himself.

Ignoring Sir Owen’s clipped response to his question, he shifted in his seat and changed the subject for the moment, asking, “Have you found your repairing lease an answer to your troubles?”

“Indeed,” Sir Owen shrugged, “I have managed to settle most of my debts with the sale of many valuables I had sitting about in my home. However, returning to London just now is not feasible. I have a great deal more to attend to.” He frowned thoughtfully and added, “It is my hope that the future will hold better times…”

The duke wanted to land him a facer and tell him just what his future would hold if he accosted Mandy in the woods ever again. However, as he contained himself, he was saved by the sound of the door opening once more, and this time he saw the viscount standing at its threshold, looking from Sir Owen to him with one arched brow.

The viscount strode into the library, exchanged a quick glance with the duke and said as he turned to his new guest, “Sir Owen. This is unexpected.” Again, he gave the duke a heartfelt glance, and sighed to hurriedly add, “Brock, forgive me for keeping you waiting. My dratted man wouldn’t let me go. But I see you two have been amusing yourselves in my absence.”

Skip strode to the sideboard table, also apparently, in need of a drink. He poured himself a snifter, put it to his lips and sipped before he pulled up a chair, sat and looked at Sir Owen to ask, “Right then, I have a notion,
you
have a specific reason for coming to see me, so then Owen, what is it?”

“It is a delicate matter…” Sir Owen said glancing at the duke.

The duke got to his feet, “Of course, I’ll…”

“Sit, sit,” the viscount waved Brock back into his seat. “Delicate meaning something to do with the twins, I’ll wager and if so, you may speak freely. As you must know, the duke is their guardian.”

“Yes, his Grace just mentioned it, though I can’t imagine how that came about,” Sir Owen said curiously.

“Nor I,” the duke almost snorted, shook his head and said, “Alas, as it is the sorry truth, if you have anything that concerns them, it does also concern me.”

“Very well then gentlemen, I shall get to the point. Today, and quite by accident, I ran into Aman…er, Miss Sherborne near the stream that runs through Abbey Forest.”

“Good God!” ejaculated the viscount, his eyes opening wide. “Why would she be running about in the open?
Madcap
.” The viscount shook his head but his eyes spoke of the great affection he had for her as he said warmly and with a touch of admiration, “She has always had a mind of her own.” However, a frown descended over his pleasant features as he added, “Indeed, but this is
not
good. Bound to land herself in the basket if she runs about in the open.”

“Exactly so,” agreed Sir Owen. “There is no telling who she could run into if she goes about so freely while she is still with her brother in hiding and I must assume that there is where she intends to stay until she can prove him innocent.” He shook his head and clucked his tongue before adding, “I tried to talk some sense…well, she has her own mind, as you said and hence I fear she won’t take my advice seriously.

“Aye, she won’t leave him in this mess. Loyal to a fault. I can’t think of another woman who would put herself in such harm’s way…” remarked the viscount and this time there was no hiding the approval he felt for Mandy’s behavior. “Did she tell you where they are hiding?”

“No, of course not. I fear she does not trust me…at all,” Sir Owen said grimly. “I had hoped otherwise, but she seems to think I believe her brother guilty. She actually thinks that I have laid such beliefs against him to the authorities, which is of course, ridiculous.” He threw down the remaining contents of his glass and heaved a long sigh before saying, “I thought, perhaps, you may be able to get word to them to be more careful.”

“I have no way of doing that, as they did not confide their destination to me,” Skip said.

“That is odd,” Sir Owen remarked. “You are their closest friend, are you not?”

“Indeed, but knowing Mandy, she would not wish to cause me trouble and put me in a situation that could take me there.”

“Then I am disheartened,” Sir Owen returned with a shake of his head. “It is time to take action.”

“Action? What action?” the viscount expostulated worriedly.

The duke had quietly been listening and watching this exchange but was moved to ask dryly, “Indeed, I am curious, what action do you have in mind?”

“As the charges against Ned are absurd, we should be working to get them dismissed,” Sir Owen said sharply. “We need to take action to do that.”

“Just so, how do you propose we go about accomplishing that?” the viscount returned impatiently.

“What have you been doing to find the maid, Elly Bonner?” Sir Owen asked.

The duke’s brows rose. Was Sir Owen fishing for information? Was he worried that they were getting close to finding her? Was that because Chauncey and Ned had found the woman’s beau? Did Sir Owen already know that?

“I have set about inquiries, of course. To date, those inquiries have turned up absolutely nothing. The girl and the diary have vanished,” the viscount answered on a heavy sigh. “My fear is that the diary has already been thrown into the fire.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” said the duke. “This maid took it for a reason. I believe, when we find her, we find the diary and that both will reveal the name of the father of Celia’s unborn child.”

Sir Owen looked more worried than he should have at this conclusion, “Just so,” he said quietly. “As it happens, I have found some information about the maid. Apparently, Elly Bonner was spotted in York three nights ago.”

Both the duke and the viscount were on their feet. The viscount made a blustering sound of excitement, but the duke asked grimly, “Why wait until just now to tell us this? Was she alone at the time?”

“I…I was leading up to it. She isn’t there any longer, but she was seen with someone. A brute of a man.”