Mandy

by Claudy Conn

  “How am I? My God!” he answered as he reached and tried to embrace her.

  She stood apart from him and he dropped his hands to his sides, but made a show of looking her from the top of her head to her boots and exclaimed in shocked terms, “Devil a bit! What are you wearing? Ned’s clothes?”

  “I am in disguise,” she said and put a hand to his chest to separate herself from him as he had taken another step closer. She eyed him calculatingly. Would he turn her in? She didn’t think so and she said carefully, “Sir Owen, I must go. You know that, don’t you? Or is it your intention to betray our friendship and turn me over to the authorities, as you did my brother, not so long ago.”

  He took hold of her arm then and his hold was a tight grip as he regarded her grimly. She had a moment’s fear of him.

  His voice when he spoke was laced with disbelief. “Is that what you think? Amanda, how did you get such a notion? It wasn’t what I told your uncle that sent him hotfoot after your brother. Dash it girl! How would that serve my purpose? I tell you frankly, it would not. I have been trying to win favor in your eyes…you must know that. Would handing your brother in so callously achieve my goal?”

  Mandy frowned as she puzzled over this, “Yes, but you did go with Alfred to my uncle…and then my uncle decided to hand Ned over to the magistrate.”

  “I accompanied Alfred only to make certain he did not embellish the facts, which he did try to do. Amanda, my only love, don’t you know, haven’t you guessed that all I want is to make you my bride? How would sullying your brother’s reputation…or getting him charged with murder serve my goals? At the risk of sounding selfish, I must point out to you that it would not.”

  Mandy frowned at him, “No, it would not. Yet, I have learned that not all things are perfectly discernible at first.” She shrugged, “And telling me now that you mean to make me your bride sounds absurd to me. You made no such push before this trouble…”

  “Did I not? You are perhaps too young to have realized, that everything I did, every move I made, was only to win your favor and your hand.” His fingers slid down her arm and took her own, “Amanda, promise me, that you will not scurry off and I will release my hold on you.”

  “I do not scurry!” she snapped.

  “Promise me, none the less,” he reiterated.

  “No, I can not promise you. I don’t trust you,” she answered, her chin up.

  “Amanda, listen to me. I have been searching for this Elly Bonner, this maid of Celia’s. I believe she holds the diary we are looking for. I am certain it will clear your brother.”

  Suddenly excited, Mandy clutched at his sleeve, “Oh, Sir Owen, have you been doing that? If only you could find it,” Mandy cried hopefully. “We haven’t had any luck at all.”

  “If I could free Ned, would you accept to be my wife?” Sir Owen said on a low note.

  “I…but, I don’t love you,” she answered stepping away once more.

  “That doesn’t matter. You would in time. I would see to it. Answer me, Mandy, is that your price?”

  “My price?” She was shocked. “Of course, I want my brother cleared, but no, I don’t have a price and you shouldn’t want a woman with one.”

  Sir Owen’s hazel eyes narrowed and she was taken aback by the glint in their depths. He said, “Is it Skippendon? I know you trust him. I know it was he you went running to for help, but Amanda, you shouldn’t trust him. Not at all.”

  “Do not be absurd. We have known Skip nearly all our lives…”

  “Sit beside me and when you have heard me out…I will let you go and I won’t try and follow. How is that?”

  As an answer, she sat on a large fallen log and indicated with a slight movement of her hand for him to be seated, before saying, “Very well then, Sir Owen, I am sitting.”

  He chuckled, “You are a handful and I can see you will not be a biddable wife. I wonder if I know what I am getting myself into?”

  This made her laugh, “Excellent, I may yet pound some sense into you. Now, what is it you must tell me about Skippy?”

  “As I said, it is my belief that the viscount is not to be trusted,” he said gravely.

  “Don’t be absurd. Indeed, you must be jesting. Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Unfortunately, I am not jesting. My valet has a friendship of sorts with the viscount’s man and although I ordinarily discourage gossip, this instance was different. You see, I have every reason to believe that the viscount was in an intimate relationship with Miss Celia and one that he terminated because he had picked up with yet another woman.”

  Mandy found she could not speak. Her mouth opened wide and she gulped a breath of air before she managed to gasp out, “I don’t believe it. Not…Skip and Celia?” She then burst out with a harsh laugh and shook her head, “Upon my word, my cousin did make the rounds, did she not? Almost anyone could have killed her…” She eyed Sir Owen and said softly, “Even you, sir.”

  * * *

  The duke rode back to his friend’s manor home with a troubled mind. He couldn’t get the gamine Mandy out of his head. Her kiss had sent a collection of slamming shockwaves through his body. No woman had ever tasted so good. No woman had ever felt so right.

  She was his ward. She was an innocent and he never, absolutely never, seduced an innocent and yet when he thought about her, it was all he wanted to do.

  He wanted to lay her down and make never-ending wild love to her. He wanted to explore her body. He wanted to feel her hands on his. He wanted to…

  Blister it! He was a cad and he was lusting over a young and innocent woman he had no right even thinking about in such a manner.

  Besides that, he had to set his mind to other matters. For one, Skippy and his involvement in all of this was nagging at him.

  It took him no time at all to send his horse off to the stables and stride purposely into the house. It took less time to discover that once again, Skip was no where on the premises. This was troubling. Where did he go off to all the time?

  He inquired but the butler having no notion, suggested that perhaps the viscount had gone fishing at his favorite spot and described just where that was, as on occasion, he had gone with the viscount to set up a picnic there.

  It wasn’t far. Better than waiting about for him all day, when he wanted to speak with him at once.

  The duke sighed and made the short trip to the stables, saddled one of the viscount’s steeds while his was being watered and rested in the back paddock and once again, rode the pike road to the dirt turn off the butler had described to him.

  He had just come upon the rivulet he was seeking, turned down the dirt path, the butler had described and immediately stopped short.

  What met his gaze confounded him, for there sat Mandy sitting on a log with Sir Owen, whom he recognized at once. Sir Owen, a rake, a libertine, and inveterate gambler, near enough to touch his Mandy, for he had already begun to think of her as his…with those lips he had just kissed.

  Damn the blackguard’s soul, what was he doing here with her?

  Had Mandy not returned…hell, encouraged his kisses only a short time ago? Why then was she sitting in close quarters with Owen when no one was supposed to know where she was hiding?

  Shock rushed through his mind as he led his horse to a nearby tree, tethered him and crept closer as quietly as he could. What was she doing? How could she be meeting this rogue clandestinely? Wasn’t she afraid she would give away her location…put her brother in danger?

  He arrived within listening distance just in time to hear Sir Owen expostulate, saying something about something being preposterous and then all at once the villain pulled Mandy into his arms.

  He stepped forward, all his anger ready to burst out of him as his hands fisted. He was going to plant the fellow in the ground. However, he managed to find some control and stopped himself. Was showing himself the right move?

  Clearly a decision must now be made. Should he go forward and confront them?

 
; She pulled out of Sir Owen’s arms…but she remained seated with him. Damn it all to hell! He turned on his heel and returned to his horse.

  A few moments later, he had worked his way down the wooded deer-path that would lead back to the abbey. He settled in and awaited Mandy’s return.

  * * *

  Mandy shoved Sir Owen away as soon as his lips touched hers. The thought of him kissing her after she had just kissed the duke, actually repulsed her.

  He didn’t fight to hold on to her, but immediately dropped his hands. He sighed and shook his head, before saying “I assure you, Amanda, Celia and I…were no more than friends at best. No one has held my heart since I first met you, but you.”

  “I didn’t say she held your heart and I am not such a green girl as to think a man can be involved with a woman while his heart stays detached from her. You mistake, if you think I was not aware of your interest in Celia. I may be inexperienced sir, but not blind.” She got to her feet, “Now, if you will excuse me?” She hadn’t known for sure that he was involved with Celia until just then. His entire reaction to the suggestion had given him away.

  “Did you walk here…” he frowned.

  She supposed he was now trying to change the subject and discover how far she had to go. She was not a simpleton, but managed not to appear suspicious as she led him astray and said, “I did. My horse is with my friends. I came for a walk, while they attended to matters they did not wish to expose me to. But I must get back to our meeting spot as we have a long ride back.” There, that should throw him off nicely. He would think that friends of theirs were hiding them, safe and sound.

  He called out to her as she hurriedly gave him her back and started off in the opposite direction of the abbey, “Amanda, please remember that I will do whatever you need to help your brother. Trust me because you can.”

  “Trust you? I shall when I have reason,” she said over her shoulder. “You can move about more freely than we, so if you want my trust, help us find Elly Bonner.”

  She hurried into the woods, found a tree she could climb and immediately did so. There she remained until she caught sight of Sir Owen heading in another direction. She smiled to herself, clamored down and headed toward the abbey.

  Breathless, her shirt askew, her curls tumbling about her face, her braid undone down her back and in wild disarray, Mandy rushed to the forest’s edge.

  She stopped to lean against the large trunk of an evergreen to catch her breath and just as she caught it, she lost it again.

  Only a short distance away and how had she not seen him sooner, stood the duke. His blue eyes ablaze with an unreadable expression, and his lips, those sensuous lips were curled with disapproval as he regarded her.

  “Well, well, my rough and tumble ward, where have you been?” he said slowly.

  “’Tis not for you to question my activities,” she returned not knowing why she sounded so curt.

  “Oh but you mistake. As your guardian, I have every right to question your activities,” he returned his voice edged with anger.

  “Really, do you think so? I do not. After all, you haven’t cared what we did, or where we went, for almost a year, why should you now?” returned the lady with her chin well up.

  “Indeed?” he said casting a superior glance over her. “You are much mistaken. You and your twins’ activities are now very much my affair,” he replied sardonically.

  “As to that, we did not ask you to come here and we don’t need you, Your Grace,” she snapped. “Or should I address you as Uncle Brock? Really, how does one address a guardian, especially a guardian one has kissed?” Had she actually said that? She heard the words reverberate in her head. She said that. How did she say that?

  Apparently the notion of his being addressed as ‘Uncle Brock’ by a woman he had kissed, left him momentarily non-pulsed, but he eyed her, his temper now in full bloom, as he made a recovery and drew himself up to his six foot something. His voice when it came was a shout, “Certainly not! Uncle Brock? I have the good fortune not to claim blood ties between us. However, I am most certainly your legal guardian, my dear, and have every right to know where you have been and what you have been doing, unless of course what you have just done shames you?”

  “I…I went for a walk,” she answered not looking into his eyes. It was what she did. No lie there.

  “Were you not afraid you might be seen?” he asked quietly.

  “I was careful,” she answered feeling like a devil.

  “Were you?”

  “No one followed me here,” she answered.

  “You mean to play semantics with me, child. Tell me, what of the friendly fellow in the woods, whom I recognized as Sir Owen. What of him?”

  Faith, she thought desperately. He had seen her with Sir Owen. What would he think? What did she care what he thought? How dare he spy on her or think she was carrying on with Sir Owen, for it was what he thought—she could see it on his face.

  “The manner in which I spend my time is my own affair,” she said staring directly into his eyes, her hands now on her hips.

  “Do you think so?” he glared back at her. “Do you think so, indeed? May I remind you that you will not leave the circumference of my protection, and therefore, my family name for at least another month. Therefore, you will conduct yourself in a manner I deem fit for your station in life.”

  Mandy’s mouth opened and stayed that way while she tried to find the words with which to slap him. “And what of your conduct, Your Grace? Or does kissing your ward, no matter how unsatisfactory you may have found it, not count in your book of ethics?”

  He frowned as though puzzled by something she had just said and his reply was tempered, “I do apologize. That unfortunate incident will not be repeated.”

  She seethed from his words. Unfortunate incident? Unfortunate? She wanted to haul off and hit him, but instead she stood as regally as she knew how and said, “Really? I am so glad to hear it.” She then snapped her fingers in the air and told him, “In the meantime, you may go to the devil.” With that, she turned sharply and started to walk off, when she found his grip on her forearm and she turned to stare at his hand and then at his face, one brow going up.

  He released her immediately and she could see he was spitting fire as he said, “Take heed, m’girl. You are not speaking to your groom, or your brother. Apparently your grandfather doted on you and spoiled you to the point where you lack all good manners. Your rudeness needs curbing miss, and it may yet not be too late. I am most willing to administer the spanking you so richly have been begging to receive.” His eyes were made of blue glitter.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she hissed.

  When he finally answered this challenge his voice was low, hoarse, and controlled as he said, “You think not?”

  She hauled off and tried to smack him across his cheek. He had her hand and held it, keeping her from her purpose.

  She yanked her hand out of his hold, “Is that who you are? Do you manhandle females when they displease you? I have heard of such men. Despicable!”

  He groaned with pure frustration and ran a hand through his uncovered black hair, “If you think that of me, I wonder that you would drive me to it.”

  The sound of horses made them both stiffen and look away from each other. He said on a low note, “Hurry…into the stable.”

  It was the closest building out of view, so she complied without demur, as he followed with his horse. A few moments later they were both relieved to hear her brother’s voice, which brought them outdoors once more.

  “Ned!” Mandy said flinging herself at him. She felt like a sailor sighting land in a storm. “Oh Ned.”

  He grinned, “Missed me, eh?”

  “No, you are a horrid boy, going off without me.”

  Chauncey took Ned’s reins, patted Mandy on the shoulder and reminded her, “Now there, Missy. Ye didn’t have a horse, did ye?”

  “Hullo, duke,” Ned said turning to put out a hand to the duke.

>   “Where did you go off to?” the duke asked.

  “Went to Teeside,” he announced happily.

  “Yes, but why?” Mandy asked peevishly.

  “That I suppose, was my fault,” answered the duke pulling a face and sighing heavily.

  “Your fault? How?” she rounded on the duke and was stunned that although she had been furious with him, she could so soon be taken by his handsome face, his bright blue eyes, his every movement. Ah, but she was a stoopid girl.

  “It seemed to me, someone like Elly Bonner might have friends or family in such a village, as one of the viscount’s servants mentioned that she rather thought Elly Bonner came from Teeside.”

  “So you sent them into danger, where they might be recognized?” Mandy accused, still unable to let go her irritation with him.

  “Take a damper, Mandy girl,” her brother shot at her and pulled a face. “Whatever is wrong with you? Must find her, you know that.”

  “Yes, but if someone saw you…”

  “Look at him, Miss Sherborne,” the duke stuck in. “Was anyone likely to recognize him with a mustache and his hair blackened with soot?”

  Mandy heard the formal use of her name with a sinking heart. He appeared to be just as angry with her as she was with him. But why?

  She glanced at her brother and suddenly realized he was in disguise and all the tension was released as she burst out laughing and then reached for the mustache on his face and pulled.

  He yelped, “Are you daft, girl…that hurt!” he returned but he was as usual grinning.

  “Oh…oh, my Ned…you looked so funny. Don’t ever grow one of those, and it is a dark mustache…it doesn’t match your blond hair!” This made her peel off laughing once more.

  “Are ye two finished with yer prattle and giggles?” Chauncey asked on a long and weary sigh. “Because if ye are, mayhap we can tell the duke what Ned and I have discovered.”

  All eyes turned to Chauncey while Ned rubbed the red raw spot the mustache pulling had left over his upper lip.