by Claudy Conn
Ned held his empty gun in a show of force as he pointed it at the gentleman’s head, “There be two of us…only one of ye.”
“Yet, I still may kill one,” said the duke unrelenting. “And I think it will be your young…brother is it? Yes, I definitely will kill him before you get a shot off.”
Suddenly the stranger had Mandy’s arm. He yanked and ripped the gun right out of her hands, stashed it behind him in the carriage as in one fluid movement he had her off the horse and held her tight against his body.
She gulped again for one arm crossed her shoulders as he had her backed against his chest. His arm slipped as she struggled and landed across her breasts and she bit her bottom lip.
She tried scrambling away from him but it only served to detach the scarf from the lower part of her face.
He had her in tow once more and this time, held her fast around her middle as he pointed a gun at her head.
“Rather lean in years to be riding the road, my cull,” the duke remarked lightly as he inspected the toby’s face and frowned. His hand moved up her front and found her breasts and she felt him go very still as he dropped his hand and said, “What the devil?”?
“Who, who are you?” Mandy breathed losing the toby cant as she managed to move out of his hold.
“By Jupiter, you are a cool one,” said the duke, surprised. “Do you always insist on an introduction before you try and relieve your victims of their blunt?” He waved his gun then at Ned, “And you, taking a woman with you on the high road? What sort of highwaymen are you?”
“Stubble it, gent!” Mandy remembered the part she was playing. She turned to her brother as she caught up the reins of her horse. “We do what we must.”
Ned called out, “Here…” he threw the driver’s gun into the bushes. “Retrieve your barking iron when ye have a mind. We no longer have a fancy to prig ye and will be on our way.”
The duke’s brows were up and he studied these two intently. He reached out and caught Mandy’s wrist as she tried to escape his hold. “Not so fast pretty little toby. I have a few questions.”
The sun’s rays glinted off the gun and Mandy eyed it and then him. “Would ye hold a gun to a woman then? Is that the sort of gentry ye be?”
“When that woman is a thief, I would,” he answered easily.
Trouble, thought Mandy, why did it follow them endlessly? Perhaps it was them, still playing at pranks, forever encouraging trouble to land in their laps?
“If ye have a mind to tap m’claret, then do it and be done, or let us go. We mean ye no harm…” Mandy tried softly.
Suddenly, his viselike grip held her tightly to his hard rock body and she thought he might just break her bones, when just as suddenly he eased his hold.
She kicked backward and hit his shins dead on. However, she discovered the man was made of iron. He didn’t budge and he didn’t release her.
She struggled, wriggled, flung abuse at her subjugator’s head, but it became stunningly apparent to Mandy that she was trapped.
All at once, he spun her around and peered into her eyes and exclaimed, “Fiend seize it!” He tried to still her and yelled, “Stand a moment, you undersized fury.”
By this time, Ned was no longer holding his empty gun at the guard, but had jumped off his horse and was charging the stranger.
Ned grabbed one of the stranger’s arms and declared, “Blackguard. If you have a mind to fight, then meet me, swine, for I am more your size.”
For his effort, Ned was powerfully flung off to one side, tripped backward over something at the edge of the road and landed on his rump.
The stranger eased off Mandy and he did it with a cool, slow deliberateness that sent a shiver rushing through her body. Everything about his mien was that of control, and beneath that control was a predator, unwilling to be beaten.
She saw Ned get to his feet and rushed the stranger once more only to get a fist in his face.
Ned had been landed a settler that sent him sprawling backward once more and once more he landed soundly on his rump, but this time, he would have an ugly bruise to show for his efforts.
Mandy shrieked out his name, “Ned!” And then realized what she had done and bit her lip.
The stranger stood open-mouthed for a moment before he grabbed hold of her shoulders and spun her to face him.
She heard his intake of breath and knew all at once that he had surmised who they were. He was a stranger to them, but they were no longer strangers to him.
Ned rubbed his chin and said ruefully, “Don’t worry, caught me in the bone-box, but nothing broken. I’m hipped but quite all right.”
She glared at the tall muscular stranger and kicked him in the shins once more. He grunted and frowned at her, saying under his breath, “Do that once more and you will, I do promise you, regret it.”
He then held her tightly in his grip and turned to tell his driver, “I’ve got these two devils in hand. You may return to the Manor and advise the viscount that I shall come along much later. Nothing to worry about.”
“But…Yer Grace, ye ‘aven’t a horse…” the driver began to object.
Mandy turned and eyed her brother silently. Yer Grace?
“Oh, but I have two to choose from. Now go along. This is not an open discussion,” the duke returned.
“Aye then, Yer Grace, as ye wish,” said the driver but then added, “M’gun, Yer Grace?”
“I’ll see to it later. Off with you now.”
The coach rumbled forward although the driver looked disturbed about doing so without his passenger, but his passenger seemed to have a mind of his own.
The duke rounded on the young woman he held captive and glared at the young man rubbing his chin, for a moment as he collected his thoughts.
Mandy shook free of his hold and ran to Ned to touch him and inquire if he was all right and without waiting for an answer turned around and admonished, “You are a wretched, odious brute. We didn’t take anything from you and wanted no more than to proceed on our way. We obviously thought you were someone else…”
“Obviously? Not to me, my dear. Now tell me, and you may drop the thieves’ cant and speak in the Queen’s English, please, why I should allow either of you to proceed on your way?” He gave her a bit of a sneer and shook his head, “No, what you two need is less freedom, not more.”
“Why you…you…” Mandy made an attempt to gather all the insults she could and fling them at his head.
‘Tch tch, ill mannered creature,” the duke stuck in softly. “It would appear that my previous laxness with regards to your supervision has borne very unfortunate fruit.”
“I have no notion what the deuce you are talking about,” said Mandy but saw that her brother was frowning as he stared at the stranger.
Ned said, “Look here, you have no right to keep us. We haven’t taken anything from you. We were just on a lark.”
“You took time from me,” answered the duke. “You accosted my driver on a public road and aimed a gun at his head, not to mention mine.”
“It wasn’t loaded,” Mandy snapped. Who was this arrogant duke? He was a duke. That much she had concluded when the driver had called him Yer Grace.
“Ah, but the poor fellow didn’t know that, did he? Reckless and thoughtless, and for what? A lark you say?” snapped the duke in a scathing voice.
Mandy bit her lip. He was absolutely right. “You play an odd game, sir. But we are not mice and I assure you, will not scurry about waiting on your intentions,” Mandy blustered even though her brother shot her a warning glance.
“What I should like to know is who the devil are you?” Ned asked worriedly.
The duke grinned. “That particular question plagues you, I see. Who were you expecting?”
“Confound it!” Mandy’s hands unconsciously went to her hips. “Who else, but the owner of the conveyance you were using—the Viscount Skippendon. And you must realize that. Just a bit of sport between friends. We had no way of knowing you were
in Skip’s coach.” Mandy wagged a finger, “And he, I assure you, would not have minded in the least. Now, if you will stand out of our way, we shall not trouble you further.”
He barred her path and their eyes met in battle. Mandy felt a flush of heat skittle through her body. Even in the dim light, something in his eyes made her tremble and the trembling she experienced she knew was not born of fear.
He chuckled and said softly, looking at her as though no one else existed but the two of them and his blue eyes held hers, “You may have noticed, Miss Sherborne, that I dismissed my conveyance.”
Mandy frowned and managed to look away from him to her brother. He gave her a rueful glance and shrugged his shoulders. She looked back at the controlling mountain of a man before her and waited.
“You may—both of you relax.” He said looking toward her brother. “I am not going to do either of you harm. Indeed, I came to your heathenish dales for the express purpose of extricating you from the difficulties you have managed to plunge yourselves into.”
“Who…who are you?” Mandy gasped and clasped her hands, for in spite of his assurances she was worried.
He inclined his head slightly, “Have you not guessed? I would have credited you with more intelligence.” He bowed gracefully. “You have the pleasure of making the acquaintance of your guardian, Brock Haydon, Duke of Margate.”
“You lie,” Mandy hissed. “Our guardian is a gouty old man.”
The duke’s brows went up with his surprise at this remark. “I have no idea where you received such an account of me. But I do assure you that I have never suffered from the gout, nor have I been thought old—though I certainly have some six or so years on both of you.”
“Hold on a minute,” Ned stuck in. “My sister is right on the mark. The duke was a friend of our grandfather’s. You aren’t old enough to have been one of his intimates!”
“No, I had not that honor, though my father did,” replied the duke. “You are speaking of my father, though he certainly was not gouty. He had every intention of coming up here to make your acquaintance. His illness prevented him from doing so, and I lost him last year, not long after you lost your grandfather. He passed your care onto me, and I am afraid I have been neglectful of my duty.”
The twins exchanged glances over this and Mandy shrugged, “So you know what has happened—you got Skip’s letter?”
He sighed and said, “I did and I am aware that I have done a poor job of looking after your interests. However, I intend to settle this affair as quickly as possible.”
Mandy stared at him and said, “We are not children and very capable of…”
He cut her off, first with a rueful laugh and then with a hand in the air, “My first mistake was thinking that. You have proven me wrong. This latest escapade of yours—breaking your brother out of prison, when in fact, you knew Skip had written to me, and that I would come and make things right, shows a lack of maturity beyond what I imagined.”
Mandy gasped, “I had no way of knowing you would come. Yes, I knew Skip wrote to you, but the preceding year gave me no hope of your attending to his request for help.”
“Again, it displays the fact that you did not think things out. While scandal is not something I enjoy it is more than avoiding that which brings me. Skip tells me young Sherborne is innocent, and as I trust my friend’s judgment, I must make a push to do what a guardian must do, and extricate you from this situation.”
“Well, you needn’t worry on our account, we are managing very well,” Mandy returned, her chin well up.
“Again, perhaps I have not made myself clear. I mean to extricate you from a situation of your own making. Had you not broken your brother out of prison, we might have been able to put this behind us quite easily.”
“Oh, you are more odious than I at first imagined,” Mandy declared in outraged accents. “They had all made up their minds to it that he was guilty. We didn’t have a choice.”
“No? Very well, let us leave that for now. The point is that I mean to exert myself on your account,” he returned blandly. “I have many reasons for doing so. One and very importantly, above all other considerations, I owe it to my father. He would have wanted me to help you out of your mess. Thus, I shall see to it for his sake and for the sake of your grandfather’s memory that you are cleared. It is my duty to see to it that this ugly business is dispensed with immediately, and that is what I shall do.”
“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.
Refreshe
d 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.
