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“That was quite different,” Speenham spat back at the duke sullenly.
“Was it indeed? I fail to see the difference.” The duke rose and pushed away from his chair. He had all that he needed for the moment. “Good evening, sir.” He found he could not stomach Alfred Speenham. When he had his Mandy safely out of this situation, this was one connection he would see to it was totally cut out of her world.
His Mandy? How easily he had begun to think proprietarily about her. How did that happen? When had that happened? He knew the answer. From the moment you kissed her! His mind shouted. He shook this off. He couldn’t think of that now. Now, all he wanted to do was clear her brother and end his guardianship.
As he mounted his gelding, a familiar figure on horseback approached him, the light from the courtyard torches casting an eerie shadow over the man’s face. Here was another man he wanted out of Mandy’s life.
“Margate!” Sir Owen called.
He eyed Sir Owen unsmilingly and nodded, “Good evening, Owen.”
“Are you returning to Wharfdale Manor?”
The duke gave him an inclination of his head and waited as he gazed at him coldly. He didn’t trust the man and he didn’t like him.
“I am myself returning home and as our paths are for a time the same, I thought we might talk along the way.”
“Not, sir, if your conversation carries some of yesterday’s strain,” the duke returned curtly.
Pleasant apparently when it suite
d him, the duke’s brow went up as Sir Owen chuckled and curious, he waited.
“Come now, you can’t think me such a rum-touch. What I had to say, I said to Skippendon’s face—not behind his back. Now admit it, Margate, you can have no quarrel with me on that score. There is something I should like to discuss with you.”
“Indeed? Do tell?” the duke returned dryly.
“I should like to discuss…well this is about Amanda Sherborne,” Sir Owen blurted out.
The duke felt his entire body stiffen. “What about Miss Sherborne?”
“She is your ward and therefore I thought it not expedient, but polite to inform you that I intend to marry her,” Owen returned.
“Because you stand in need of her fortune,” the duke stated, not asked.
“I admit I am in such straits that I must marry well, but that is not totally why I want to marry her. I am enchanted with her.”
“Do you seek my approval? If so, you are out, Owen. Mark me, I will stand in your way,” the duke answered on a hard note.
“I don’t need your approval, Margate. If the lady will have me—and I rather think she will, I will take her and keep her and try and make her happy. I am quite fond of her…indeed, how could any man with eyes in his head, not be?”
The duke wanted to knock the man off his horse and then blacken his eye and break his nose. However, he asked, “And the lady in question—why do you think she may marry you?”
“How could she not? Stuck here in the wilds…now a fugitive, what choices does she have?” Owen shrugged, “And I am running out of time. She comes of age in a month or so and my creditors won’t be held back much longer than that. I have a horse running soon and chances are he might bring me in enough to cover me in the meantime…”
“Scoundrel! You shan’t have her, so look elsewhere for your fortune,” the duke could hardly contain himself. He damn well was going to beat the man to a pulp if he stayed in his company much longer. He stalled these feelings by asking himself what all the heat was about. “Besides,” he stuck in, “She wouldn’t have you if you were the last man on earth. You don’t know her.”
“You are out there. Mandy welcomes my suit.” Sir Owen’s eyes narrowed. “You speak as though you know her.”
“Do I? Perhaps because I have learned so much about her from Skip,” the duke circumvented his slip. Owen was asking to die and he would be very happy to accommodate him, but he maintained his composure and asked, “What makes you think she would welcome your suit—and how could you court the lady whilst she is in hiding?”
“Only this morning, I discussed our future with her, as we have met by plan,” Owen returned unaware that his life was presently on the line.
The man used half truths to his advantage, the duke thought. He needed to know more. “Are you saying you met with Miss Sherborne by design and that you know where she is?”
“Well, not exactly…” Owen hemmed. “But yes, I met with her. She knows I am trying to help her find Elly Bonner…did she not tell you?”
The duke was wildly furious on two counts. One, that Mandy had not, in fact, told him that she met with Owen again, and two, that she looked to Owen for help. He answered as calmly as he could, “How could she tell me, when she is in hiding with her brother?” He saw at once that Owen had been fishing.
