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“When will I…we see you again?” she asked trying to sound idle about it.
“Soon little one, soon,” he said and moved off a few paces. He didn’t look back as he suddenly rode off, and he rode off like the devil was after him.
She clasped her hands and told herself out loud, “You are a fool, Amanda Sherborne. A fool! He is sophisticated, he is experienced and has probably had the most beautiful women in all of London…and look at you. Just look at
you, all dirty with hair and clothes a complete mess. Why would he ever want you? Kissing you must have been just awful for him to jump away like he did!” She gazed down at her brother’s clothes covering her body and wanted to cry.
Chapter Seven
MANDY COULD NOT sit still after her encounter with the duke.
She picked herself up, went to her abbey chamber and collected a linen cloth, a bar of soap, a change of clothing, her hair brush and headed outdoors. The stream was sure to be cold, but she needed a bath and she needed to wash her hair. At least the sun was warm.
She headed for the woods, basking in the warmth of the day and followed the stream to a spot she and her brother had used when they were children.
A moment later saw her naked and plunging into the deepest part. She soaped down her hair and body and hurried out of the water to wrap the linen around herself and brush out the tangles in her hair.
She sighed and was pleased to feel clean and refreshed as she pulled on her undergarments. She gazed at her brother’s clothes and wished she had instead one of her pretty gowns.
A moment later, dressed, her boots pulled back on, and feeling clean, she headed down the trail when a sound of her name made her come to a complete stop.
She closed her eyes, for she knew the voice well and he repeated, “Amanda!”
There was nothing for it. She knew this day would come. She turned to meet her fate head on. She might have been able to outrun him, but that would only lead him to their hiding place. She had no choice but to stand her ground.
She put on a smile she did not at all feel and said as nonchalantly as she could muster and as though she were meeting him in a drawing room, “Sir Owen, how nice.”
He stood only twenty feet away from her, a fishing rod in his hand, his rugged face enigmatic. She noted that he looked thinner than usual, but perhaps it was because he wore only his shirtsleeves and buckskin waistcoat. His topboots were muddied and his hair windblown. He strode hard, putting the distance between them away and set down the basket containing the fish he’d caught with some force, his expression one of astonishment.
“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.
