by Claudy Conn
“You’ll not have anyone’s neck. What sort of speech is that for a woman? It is not a moment too soon that I am taking you under hand,” the squire said with an impatient gesture. He turned to the yeoman and said warningly, “Lord Sherborne is a peer of the Realm. He will be treated with respect. He must stand trial for the crime he has been accused of, but he has not yet been found guilty and you will keep that in mind.”
“Afraid of what people might say?” Mandy sneered at her uncle. “Afraid they might think you are too anxious to bring Ned in—that maybe you have an ulterior motive? It is what people are already saying…is it not?” As she spoke she watched as the armed men took the reins of both Chauncey and Ned and a heavy depression settled in over her. She needed the duke. Faith, oh faith, Brock…I need you—right now!
She said nothing to her uncle on the ride to his Tudor home. Once inside the house, he bade her sharply to go upstairs and ready herself in the guestroom, as he would have a hot bath drawn for her while her clothes were fetched from Sherborne.
She put up her chin and marched upstairs, where she finally found the room she believed he was speaking of, and plumped down on a large upholstered winged chair and burst into tears.
* * *
At just about the moment the squire and Mandy arrived at his home, Chauncey and Ned had reached a long stretch of woods on either side of the road and Chauncey managed to cast Ned a ‘get ready’ wink without being seen by the yeoman.
He coughed, choked, coughed again and as he raised a hand to his heart, groaned, “Aye then, young lord…but all the excitement…I’m not feeling quite the…thing…”
“Whot’s this?” said the youngest and the only one of the men that was unarmed. “No need to fratch yerself Chauncey. The court will be lenient on ye. After all, ye were only taking orders from his lordship…just stay calm now.”
“Och…och…” replied Chauncey.
“I don’t like this,” said the other man waving his gun about. “Don’t ye be trying to bamboozle us. We ain’t green now, are we?”
“Och…m’heart… ‘tis m’ole heart going at last…” Chauncey cried with a loud moan.
“Eh Jed, maybe we should stop and let the old man rest a bit…” said the youngest yeoman, looking concerned.
“There lads, just look at me. Too old for all of this. I need some rest…” Chauncey encouraged them hopefully.
The yeoman slowed their gait and just in time, for at that moment, it appeared as though old Chauncey’s poor heart, did in fact, give out.
With his hand to his chest, he let out a startling wail and fell off his horse, face down onto the dusty road.
“Oh! Bless the saints!” cried one man as he jumped out of his saddle, nearly fell in his hurry to get to the older groom. He righted himself, as his two comrades raced past him to Chauncey’s side.
One cried out, “We’re in for it now we are. Chauncey is well known, well liked and we’ll be blamed for misusing the old codger…aye…that we will.”
Ned slipped off his horse and came up behind the youngest and unarmed man. They had taken Ned’s gun, but neglected to search him for anything else, and he pulled out the long knife from his tall boot and grinned as he took the man in his hold. “There now lads, drop your weapons. I don’t want to hurt him…or any of you, but I am not only an innocent man, but a desperate one.”
Chauncey made a speedy recovery and jumped one of the yeomen that had been startled into turning to Ned and his hostage.
He had both the man’s gun and a grip around his neck from behind as he said, “Ye lads be working the wrong side. Can’t ye see that? Lord Sherborne is innocent and ye would do well to remember that.”
“Chauncey…all their weapons…” Ned said.
“Aye,” Chauncey answered on a grin, as he shoved his man away, held his gun on him and took up the gun he had ordered the other yeoman to drop.
“Go on…take a rest by that nice oak. When you are feeling up to it, you can look for your horses. We’ll let them go once we have gotten far enough away.”
“If ye be innocent, why are ye running?” asked the youngest of the three men.
“Because I’ve been being framed by the real killer and I need to find out just who that is. No one else is interested in looking past me.”
A moment later, both Ned and Chauncey were riding their horses with the three other horses in tow. They had gone a good mile before they set the horses free and turned in the opposite direction.
Ned set up high spirited howls and Chauncey laughed before shaking his head, “Well now lad, we’ll make for the river. We’re bound to find a niche that will have to do. Won’t be as cozy as we have been, but never mind that, missy ain’t with us, so it don’t much matter what kind of a hidey hole we make for ourselves.”
Ned frowned over this. “What of Mandy? What will Uncle do to her, Chaunce?”
“Lord love ye, Nuthin a-tall. Don’t ye know? Haven’t ye seen? Yer uncle wants to marry her to his son. Needs to clear her name and keep her out of this business. No doubt he will say he has had her safe at Speenham all along.”
Ned snorted, “More fool he if he thinks she’ll even look at Alfred! Marry him, indeed.”
“Aye, I think she will try and escape as I don’t see her putting up with much…” Chauncey agreed with a sigh.
“At any rate, the duke will settle this right and tight, won’t he?”
“Bless ye, lad, I think he will.”
“That’s right,” Ned declared brightening once more. “We have the duke!”
* * *
Time, a hot bath and serious thinking had done wonders for Mandy’s spirits. She brushed her long blonde hair with determination, and worked out some of her angst. The results of her efforts had made the gold of its color glitter back at her in the mirror.
Dark eyes stared back at her and she saw her brother’s face and said softly, “It’s not over Ned. We still have the duke…and I know he shall see us out of this.”
She had donned a pretty day gown of pale blue muslin. It was a simply designed gown that showed off her lines to advantage and she was pleased with the results when she stared at herself in the mirror. She had a plan and it would start with her lulling everyone into believing she had accepted her fate. Ha!
A knock sounded at her door and she called out sardonically, “As the key is on the hall side of the door, you are free to enter as you wish, are you not?”
A maid of middle age and sour disposition put in her face and grimaced at her, “Sorry, miss. But Mr. Speenham wants ye in the parlor for tea.”
“Does he?” Mandy said sweetly, though anyone who knew her would have heard the defiance edging each word. “Tell Mr. Speenham that I have no wish for tea…or his company.”
The maid cast her a shocked expression. “He said ye might take his invitation out of temper, but told me I was not to return downstairs without ye. I do so dislike having to disoblige…but Mr. Speenham will be that angry with me, he will…if ye don’t come down.”
Mandy sighed resigned to her fate. She couldn’t allow the maid to suffer Alfred’s annoyance because of her. “Very well,” Mandy said, walking through the open door and heading for the stairs. Calm yourself, her mind ordered. You must take a fine line with the Speenhams. They must think you are pleased to have some comforts once again…how else will they loosen their hold?
She entered the parlor, where Alfred already on his feet, went forward, “Mandy! You are looking prodigiously well after your…escapade,” Alfred said warmly, evidently determined to start things off amiably.
“Thank you,” Mandy managed to return with a half smile.
He frowned at her, “You are worried about Ned, I know, but my dear. He must face the courts if he is to clear his name.”
She looked into his cold hard hazel eyes and saw without any doubt that this man was wicked. It pulsated off his body in waves that slapped her. She said, making her voice sound hopeful, conspiratorial, “Alfred, he can no
t prove his innocence from a jail. It makes him look guilty. We were looking for Elly Bonner…don’t you want that too? Don’t you want to prove your cousin innocent of this awful crime?”
“I am shocked. Don’t you know that is precisely what I have been doing? How could you not know that?” He brushed a speck from his dark brown cutaway and regarded her with a look of hurt. “How could you think I would do otherwise?”
She tried to put some sweetness into her smile, “Alfred…I don’t believe you have my brother’s best interests at heart. How could I? In fact, I believe just the opposite of you and your father.”
His brows drew together and he said sharply, “You are not in a position to criticize, are you?”
Suddenly he surprised her by taking a hurried step to her and grabbing her shoulders with both his hands. “You need a beating, you brazen little bitch. I swear, one day you will live to rue your behavior toward me!” He shook her and then bent to kiss her while she struggled to be free of him.
All at once a storm blew in.
Alfred was blasted with a force that managed to lift him bodily and fling him across the room. He landed against a Queen Anne chair, fell off balance, and dropped with a resounding thud to the Oriental carpet.
Mandy felt a warm glow of enormous proportions slip around her, through her, as a pair of glorious blue eyes looked into hers and an authoritative, caressing voice—his voice asked, “Are you quite all right, my love?”
She nodded, unable to trust herself to speak, and he touched her cheek. She took his hand and had to restrain herself from kissing his fingers as she hurriedly told him, “Ned and Chauncey…they took…”
He cut her off, “No, our resourceful lads have not been taken in. ‘Tis all over Harrowgate. I was in the town…met your uncle there and hurried to get to you here. I saw the guards along the way.” He grinned at this juncture. “Apparently, Ned and Chauncey managed to escape them.”
At that moment the Speenham butler arrived and if he found the fact that his employer’s son, was picking himself off the floor, odd, he gave no sign, but announced, “Sir Owen Turndale.”
Mandy was protectively ensconced within the duke’s strong arm. She made no effort to move and the duke seemed content with matters as they stood.
Sir Owen stopped short and frowned at the scene that met his eyes, but he shook his head and said, “Well, it is amazing to me just how much can happen in a short space of time in the country!”
“Sir Owen…have you word?” Mandy asked going forward and allowing him to take her hand and bend perfunctorily over it.
“No, I am afraid not. However, I discovered that someone close to Elly Bonner, a Hawkins fellow…well, it is nothing, just an odd thing.”
The duke went forward, his blue eyes intent, “What is this odd thing?”
“A slip of the tongue…nothing really. However, the Hawkins fellow did come into York for a few things…”
Speenham seemed keenly interested, “Hawkins? Who is this Hawkins and what has he to do with anything?”
“We believe he may lead us to Elly Bonner,” Sir Owen answered him, and turned to Mandy. “What of Ned? Did your uncle actually manage to take him in?”
“Indeed, he tried, but they have escaped, as I shall, for I won’t stay in this house with…” she looked at Alfred, “…him.”
“Indeed, gamine, your uncle is not your legal guardian. I am,” stuck in the duke.
“Now, hold on here,” Alfred blustered.
“Hold on? For what?” the duke eyed him threateningly.
“You just can’t walk out of here with my cousin. My father…well, he is a magistrate as well as her uncle and although he has chosen to overlook her crime…her part in Ned’s initial escape…there is no saying that he will continue to do so if…”
The duke was already taking Alfred by the collar and seething with the fury of his words, “Speak like that and I will take great pleasure in knocking out each and every tooth you possess in that sordid button mouth of yours!” the duke warned. “You will remember as I have already informed you, that Miss Sherborne is my ward and as such, under my protection. If he chooses, though I highly recommend he does not, to bring charges against her, he will live to regret it, as I will make certain both his and your future will be fraught with pain and discomfort.”
Sir Owen, his hands folded in his arms stood slightly back, leaning against a near-by bookcase and watched with keen interest.
Alfred spluttered, mumbled and moved toward the side table where he poured himself a stiff drink.
The duke bent his arm toward his ward and said, “Let’s get you home, gamine, for I do not approve of these relations of yours. From here on out, I think you should not have anything to do with them.”
“Thank you…yes, I should like above all things to leave here,” Mandy said feeling very much like skipping along with him. She was going to be one and twenty and at that moment felt like a young girl at his side, happy to allow him to look after her. Life, she thought, was full of unexpected surprises.
He had her horse brought with his from the Speenham stable and saw her skirts spread around her as she sat her horse astride and she told him, “Brock, you are my hero, and Ned would say—a great gun. I do most humbly thank you.”
He laughed. “It is absurd, but to hear you compliment me instead of insult me is more than I can bear. Do stop.”
She giggled and then remembered her brother was now out of reach. “They are safe…yes?”
He regaled her with the tale the guards had recounted to him and they both laughed before he said, “I am pleased to tell you that your resourceful twin and your man Chauncey are free and I am certain, quite able to find a place to stowaway while we find Elly…and we shall. I can feel we are getting close.”
He mounted his horse and they started off together as he said, “I don’t mean to take you directly to Sherborne…is that acceptable?”
“Oh yes,” Mandy thought, knowing she would go to hell and back and then make the trip again for this man.
“I am loathe to have you in the same house with Agatha Brinley. For all we know, she may have killed her stepdaughter and I am not about to allow her to harm a hair on your exquisite head.”
“Then…where…?”
“To Skip’s manor.”
“No, that is…well, it is a bachelor’s residence. People may forgive me for helping my brother escape and hiding out with him, but they would never forgive me if I flout convention and move in with two bachelors.”
“I mean to have your nanny brought to Wharfdale Manor by the end of the day. I know you have her pensioned nearby, as I manage your finances. It will serve,” he said softly and reached for her ungloved hand. “I will always look out for your interests, love.”
She blushed as the heat rushed through her body. He cared. Did that mean he loved her? Could this big wondrous man actually love her? She was naught but a country miss…a hoyden without London polish—and yet the way he looked at her was more than the lust they had shared. Could he love her? Could he?
Chapter Sixteen
ELLY BONNER SAT rigid with fright as she stared at the boxes her Jack was piling upon their cavern table. She knew now where he had been and what he had been doing. He had gone shopping in York!
Half of her wanted to scold and half of her longed to go through the treasures he had set before her.
“Bless ye, Jack, what’s this ye be bringing down around m’poor head?”
“Jest wait, Elly!” He grinned like a boy. “‘tis fit fer the queen ye be.”
“Oh Jack, so many things…how? We done spent the last of our ready more than a week ago.” She knew, but she hoped otherwise.
“Aw now, Elly love. Don’t take on like a shrew. ‘Tis fer ye, all of it, fer ye. Ready-made they be, but I swear, one day ye’ll be wearing those that ain’t.”
“Oh Jack…” she exclaimed. He was like a big child pleased with himself, wanting her to get excited and enjoy the presents
he had brought her, but how could she when she knew how they had been come by?
“Aw now Elly, don’t be pushing a basket full of questions at me. Jest hold em up and look at ‘em…” He pulled out a pretty green muslin and added, “This one I chose to go with yer pretty eyes.”
“Jack, oh Jack, ‘tis grand. Oh, that grand…but…”
He pulled yet another gown, “And this, Elly…with this pretty straw bonnet…” he scrambled to show her more. “And these boots…and these slippers…and look at the grand trunk we’ll be using when we sail. ‘Tis the two of us from here on out and never mind how, we’ll make it all right in the end.”
She knew what Jack had suffered growing up. She knew his own father was the one that had left the scar across his neck, put there with a knife and how he had finally lost all control and had turned on his father and beat him to death. She knew all that he was, and she loved him, for he was none of those things with her.
He was full of excitement and told her, “Tomorrow, I’ll be bringing the cob and wagon and we’ll head for Bristol and get on a ship headed for that new land ye love so much.”
“But Jack…how?”
“Aw Elly, ye don’t need to know.”
“But I do.”
“I only took a quarter of m’share…jest enough to see us through this. Jest enough to get us established…”
She gasped, “Oh no, Jack darlin’ ye used the gold?”
“Lordy girl, they didn’t give me these things coz of m’fine face.” He shrugged. “I know someone. He gave me a fair exchange for the gold…so that I could get what we needed.”
“If they catch this person, he will lead them to you,” she said her hand at his cheek.
“No, they won’t because we’ll be gone and that will be that.”
“What if that awful man finds out…?”
“He won’t. I made the chest look untouched, I did. I ain’t so dimwitted as some might think.”
“Of course, you are not,” she reassured him.
“He doesn’t know where we are hiding. And we’ll be gone before he realizes it. Soon, all we’ll have to do is get the wagon close, load up what we need and off we will go. What more we need, we’ll buy in the new land…” he reached for her hand. “Now come, Elly girl, come see what else I got ‘ere. There is even a new set of clothes for me, so ye can walk beside me proud.”
