Mandy

by Claudy Conn

  Suddenly misery trumped shame, as she felt tears collect in her eyes and flood over onto her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them, hard as she tried and a sob she caught in her throat nearly choked her.

  He was off his horse and lifting her off hers. He had her tightly in his arms and she felt him throw off her hat as he kissed the top of her head and say incomprehensibly soothing words. His voice was gentle as he assuaged her with nonsense saying only, “Oh my dear, my poor little beauty, my own gamine, we shall do, we shall, I promise you that.”

  “Oh…Brock…oh…” was all she managed to say between sniffs as she attempted to collect herself. “ ‘Tis Skip…Skip…I can’t bear to think on it…and I feel as though I…am breaking into pieces…”

  “No, my love, you are as strong a woman as I have ever known. You won’t break, and if ever you managed to put a little crack in that wondrous heart of yours, I would seal it right up and make it well. No, Mandy. You will do. But tell me…what about Skip?” He took her hand, caught up the reins of both horses, with her hand still in his, bent to retrieve her hat, and led her to the edge of the woods only a few feet off the road. There he bade her sit on a fallen log.

  This done, he put his arm around her and held her and Mandy felt safe and cared for and sighed away the last of her tears. He had produced a handkerchief and she dabbed at her face, blew her nose and handed it back to him.

  She laughed to see him pinch the handkerchief gingerly as he stuffed it into a pocket and he grinned as he touched her chin, “Now, that’s more like it.”

  She giggled nervously and he said, “Now, my gamine, perhaps you have sufficiently recovered to put me in the way of understanding what it is about our amiable Skip to set you to tears?”

  She nodded and saw that his eyes twinkled and all at once she threw both arms around his middle and hugged him fiercely, before dropping them and sitting in the crook of his hold to tell him what she had just overheard between Skip and the strange woman, and what Sir Owen had tried to get her to believe about her friend.

  “There,” she said when she was done with her tale. “What do you think it all means?”

  “It means that you certainly should not be out and about all by yourself.” He tweaked her nose. “Just look at the problem you have caused yourself with your snooping.”

  She sat up straight and hands went to her hips, “Snooping? I wasn’t. I…came upon them quite by accident and left as soon as I realized what was toward. Snooping, indeed.” Then she saw that he had been teasing and she gave his knee a rap. “Horrid duke, now tell me, what do you think it really means?”

  “There is an explanation, you know. We might not readily have it at hand, but there is one. Come, let me see you the rest of the way back to the abbey.”

  She acquiesced without demur, all the while feeling that although Ned had told her there were no such things as knights in shining armor, the Duke of Margate, was most certainly just that. Oh, yes, every bit a knight in shining armor.

  Chapter Fourteen

  MANDY ARRANGED THE straw in her living quarters, as the duke had taken both their horses to the abbey barn.

  She looked up as he entered the chamber they had been using as their dining area and bedroom alike and stood a moment as they looked into one another’s eyes. Was it possible to feel this much without exploding, she wondered.

  She knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking it as well. He wanted to take her into his arms and she wanted that as well. All at once he strode over to her and took her into his arms and kissed her.

  A commotion coming down the hall made them jump guiltily away and just in time as Ned ducked his head and entered the chamber to tell them, “By Jove, we’ve had a rare kick-up!”

  Apparently, Mandy thought ruefully, they had decided not to stay overnight in York.

  Ned threw his hat across the room where it landed on the pile of straw and blankets he had been using as his bed. “Hallo, duke…saw your horse in the barn. What has happened to bring you out this late?”

  “First, my young man, what sort of rare kick-up?” countered the duke.

  “You sound as though you have just been having fun, when you were supposed to be out finding information about Elly Bonner and Hawkins!” his sister accused as she glared him down.

  “Oh, well, as to Elly…think it was all a hum. No one we spoke to knew anything about her, but sis, wait till you hear what a capital time we’ve had.”

  “Capital time?” Mandy seethed. “Here I am forever stuck in the wilds, while you go about gallivanting and having a capital time?” She stamped her foot at him. “Off I went to Witch’s Elbow…all alone, while you…”

  “Witch’s Elbow?” her brother interjected with horror. “Blister it, sis, why would you do that?”

  “I needed to get out, you horrid boy!” she snapped.

  “Indeed, Mandy,” the duke interrupted, “It seems both Ned and Chauncey have something to say. Shall we allow them a word?”

  Mandy directed what she hoped was her worst evil eye at both her brother and Chauncey, “Go ahead then.”

  Ned beamed like a young boy and announced, “Won a bundle tonight.”

  “Won a bundle? Gambling. You were gambling?” Mandy was beyond enraged as she found her brother’s hat and began to beat him with it.

  The duke put out a hand and caught Mandy’s arm, firmly but gently steering her away and calling an end to her savagery. “Heigh-ho, gamine. Let the lad explain.”

  “He has been gambling—gambling, Brock, and you want him to explain?” Mandy returned in outraged accents.

  The duke chuckled and said, “I rather think he should—don’t you?”

  Ned agreed with this logic and eyed his sister warily as he took a step out of her range. Chauncey grinned and waited.

  “Right then, explain,” Mandy demanded.

  “Would have if I had but been given a chance,” Ned grumbled. However, he recalled the fat wad of ready in his pocket and immediately grinned like an idiot and offered “Mandy, Lordy, never saw one before, you know. Heard of ‘em, but not been to any of ‘em. Grandpapa always insisted that they were for cits and laborers though I half suspect he attended a few in his day.” He shook his head with a great show of pleasure and continued, “At any rate, it was famous good sport, and so I would have told Grandpapa if he were here…” his voice trailed off for a moment and he added, “Miss him.”

  Mandy softened at once and went and put a hand to his arm and rubbed, “Yes, as do I.”

  “Right, it was called The Rat Pit. Course you wouldn’t know about it, being a female and all and don’t think you would have liked it either—not that I’m saying that you are missish, for you are not, anyone could see that, but still…you wouldn’t have liked it. I daresay you would have felt sorry for the horrid little beasts. Didn’t think I’d like it either, but, there you are.”

  “Rat Pit?” Mandy repeated this in astounded accents.

  “Your brother is referring to a rather questionable sport, wherein they set a dog loose in a pit some six feet in diameter with an assortment of rats. He is expected to kill any number of these within a given space of time. It is on this particular point that bets are placed and money exchanged,” the duke explained helpfully.

  Mandy’s jaw dropped and once again with the hat she still held, she went after him. However, this time Ned ducked and dodged until the duke again took hold of her. She looked up at the duke and said, “How could he? ‘Tis awful.”

  “He is cutting his eye teeth,” the duke said softly.

  “Yes, but he enjoyed it!”

  “I think he enjoyed winning and the excitement of it all. No need to worry…”

  “No, Mandy, don’t mean to attend that sort of thing again. It was bang up good fun, but truth be told, don’t like the dog being used quite like that…”

  “And the poor rats,” Mandy said.

  “Poor rats? Well, that is doing it a bit strong,” returned her brother with a snort.
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  The men exchanged glances before they burst out laughing and she cast them all a challenging look and brought them back to the subject of hand. “Well, this has been entertaining for you, but brings us no closer to Elly Bonner or Hawkins, does it?”

  * * *

  Elly Bonner was a tall thin girl, with a neat figure. Her light brown curls were pulled back into a bun. Her face was bright, with a well scrubbed look.

  The man sitting across the small table from her was a huge creature, well above the average height and stocky. His brown hair curled around his heavy face. His eyes were dark and hard with the experiences of his life. He wore a peasant’s shirt and loose trousers.

  As he stared at the woman he had taken to his heart and considered his attachment, he sighed and reached for her hand. “It won’t always be like this darlin’.” She was a good woman, was his Elly. Lord knew he didn’t deserve her, but he had every intention of keeping her, no matter what the guv’ said. He would have a job of it though, and they’d have to move on soon.

  At first, he had tried to get the diary from her, but lately, he had thought better of it. Mayhap, it was the only thing keeping the guv’ from killing them both. He hadn’t allowed the guard he had paid to live. Said the man would be found and questioned. Well, well, best to keep something the covey was afraid of. He sighed as he looked at Elly. She was a good woman, and he was lucky to have her.

  She hadn’t answered him, instead, she looked away and said, “Jack…this can’t go on. An innocent man is being accused. We both know who killed Miss Celia and we need to put him away.”

  “Lookee ‘ere, lovey—jest forget that. We’ll make certain the young lord gets the diary before we disappear. How is that? We’ll leave with m’share and go anywhere ye want, and we’ll have a clear conscience.”

  “I won’t leave till I know Lord Sherborne has the diary in his hands. I just can’t. Before we leave, I must do this.”

  “But Elly, we must give it to him without no one the wiser. We’ll pick our time, we will.”

  “He killed Miss Celia. He must be brought to justice. If I hand in the diary…and we set sail for America like I have always wanted…there won’t be time for him to find and hurt us. He’ll be busy answering for his crimes.”

  Jack Hawkins drew a long breath of air. Was she in the right of it? Could they do the decent thing and escape? “Right then, I’ll do whatever ye want.”

  She jumped up and went to him, flung her arms around him and sobbed, “Oh Jack, ye won’t regret it. I know ye don’t hold with what that awful man has done. I know ye have killed a man in yer time, but never an honest one, and never have ye hurt a woman.”

  “I have fought m’way through this life, I have…but ye be in the right of it again, I don’t hold with what this cull has done. But he paid me to get the diary, ye know. He’ll want his ounce of blood.”

  “We’ll do, I know we will,” she said staunchly.

  He hugged her tightly and took her into his lap. “Hush now. Ye’ll be blasting me with tears in a moment and I won’t ‘ave it. Don’t want m’Elly crying. We’ll have to leave soon, we will.”

  “Yes, we’ll make a fresh start in the New World. ‘Tis a grand land—there where people like us can start a new life fresh and clean. We could leave for Bristol in the morning. We have enough of the ready. We don’t need more…”

  “Not yet, I needs m’fair share…if we be sailing for a new land, well then, I need the blunt to do it right.”

  “Jack, ye have to stop thinking like a thief…give it up.”

  “Lordy, Elly, I been trying…for ye…I been trying, I swear I have. But you can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s lug—ye jest can’t.”

  She sighed and touched his grizzly bearded chin. “I love ye, Jack.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  MANDY WAS AWAKENED the next morning by her brother who shook her roughly and shouted loudly, “Mandy, Mandy…dash it girl, wake up!”

  “What?” she tried to focus on his face.

  Ned was frantic. “We are done up I tell you and out of time. Come on we have to get out of here. Chauncey is saddling our horses right this very minute.”

  Mandy rubbed her eyes. She had a fitful sleep during the night and as a net result had overslept. “What?” she repeated as she got to her feet and stretched.

  “Don’t you understand, sis? We have to leave,” her brother told her as he threw her buckskin riding vest into her arms.

  She was already wearing his shirt, and breeches. Feeling grimy, she pulled on her riding vest and reached for her hair brush.

  He pulled the brush from her hands and flung it. “No time…come on.”

  “What has happened?” she asked now thoroughly concerned as she piled up her hair and fitted the cap over its thick masses.

  He had already started off and she hurried to catch up with him, “Neddy…what is going on?”

  “Chaunce and I went to the stream to get some fish for breakfast and on the way back we saw Cook. We were at that peak of the glen, you know it…well never mind. She was coming down the road on our old cob. Chaunce hailed her and we made our way to her hoping to wheedle one of the loaves of bread she was taking to her sister’s, and of all the bad luck—we look up and find Uncle Bevis with what looked like a search party, at his back. They came at us like wild brutes, but we managed to give them the slip, but not for long before they have it all figured out.”

  “Good gracious no!”

  “Just so, Mandy. He was heading right for us…he on horseback…we on foot and we lost him by diving into the woods, but he’ll figure it out he will and come to the Abbey.”

  They had reached the barn, where Chauncey already had their horses in tow. Ned and Mandy took up their reins and started to mount.

  “Nothing for it but to move,” Chauncey declared hurriedly. “Now, no more talk, up and out…”

  They didn’t speak for the next few minutes as Chauncey led the way, until Ned looked around and asked, “Chauncey…where are we headed?”

  “For now, we need to just ride off and out of sight, head for the Old Track…I am guessing would be our best bet.”

  “I can hear them coming…oh Chauncey they are right at our backs!” Mandy declared distressfully.

  “Nothing for it, missy…time to spring ‘em,” Chauncey returned.

  Mandy galloped along with her brother as they followed Chauncey’s heady pace. They came across a fallen tree blocking the old bridle path. Its branches reached high and prevented them from jumping it so they came to a slamming halt.

  Chauncey announced they would have to pick through the trees.

  However, it was already too late. They turned even as the group of armed riders, three with their uncle, began to circle them.

  Mandy saw her uncle in the middle of all, sitting on his horse and looking as smug as she had ever seen him.

  “Don’t make any sudden moves, missy…they are armed,” Chaunce said as he saw that Mandy was ready to bolt and ride for it.

  “We can outride them…we can…” Mandy said hopefully.

  “I can’t have either you or the young lord winged, now can I?” Chauncey answered.

  Ned sighed but held his head high. “He is quite right, Mandy. I can’t allow m’sister to be put in such danger. We shall stand buff.”

  “No!” Mandy screeched. “We must charge right through them, please Neddy…you can’t be taken.”

  “Sis, I am a Sherborne. I shall not try and outrun these scoundrels and have m’sister shot.”

  She had no patience with doing the honorable. She wanted him to survive. She wanted him free. A gentleman’s code only worked for gentlemen and she did not consider her uncle one. He was a blackguard.

  Squire Speenham, his breath coming in short spurts and making Mandy wish he would keel over and die. It was a horrid wish, but at that moment she wasn’t up to feeling anything but justified.

  However, he did not fall over, but walked his horse forward. His hat was
askew over his bald head and had she not been so angry she might have laughed at the vision he presented.

  She looked around and saw that two of the three men had their guns leveled at Ned and Chauncey. The third man showed no signs of having a gun, but sat his horse quietly, studying them.

  She tried reason, “Uncle Bevis—tell these men to put down their arms at once!”

  “How dare you address me as Uncle, young lady! Dressed as you are…in the company of outlaws, for that is exactly what young Sherborne has become.”

  “Oh, for the love of…” Ned began to declare exasperatedly, “Stop your prattling, and do whatever it is you have to do.”

  “And so I shall,” the squire returned sharply. “It does however, grieve me deeply, much as you suspect otherwise. My name is forever besmirched by your actions.” He turned to the yeoman without a gun and said, “Take these gentlemen into Harrowgate with as little commotion as you can. See to it that their cell is well guarded, and they are to have no visitors.” He turned to Mandy who was trying to think of a way out of this. “You young woman, shall come with me.”

  “No, I won’t. I prefer the same fate as my brother,” Mandy returned defiantly.

  “It perhaps will not surprise you to learn that I believe you may well deserve it. However, you are a gently bred female whose reputation I mean to save, by arranging for you to marry my son.”

  “Never. I will never marry your son,” she was seething with fury.

  “Nevertheless, you will return with me to my home and remain under constant supervision until your brother is brought to trial. Now come along.”

  Ned reached out to comfort his sister and the younger yeoman, apparently nervous from the sudden importance of his job, became over-zealous. He brought down the gun hard on Ned’s forearm, nearly dislocating him from his saddle.

  Ned cried out as much from surprise as pain and turned a wrathful glance upon the yeoman.

  Mandy screeched, “You awful person! What have you done? I’ll have your neck for that!”