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“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.
