Page 37 of Mandy

Clearly a decision must now be made. Should he go forward and confront them?

; She pulled out of Sir Owen’s arms…but she remained seated with him. Damn it all to hell! He turned on his heel and returned to his horse.

A few moments later, he had worked his way down the wooded deer-path that would lead back to the abbey. He settled in and awaited Mandy’s return.

* * *

Mandy shoved Sir Owen away as soon as his lips touched hers. The thought of him kissing her after she had just kissed the duke, actually repulsed her.

He didn’t fight to hold on to her, but immediately dropped his hands. He sighed and shook his head, before saying “I assure you, Amanda, Celia and I…were no more than friends at best. No one has held my heart since I first met you, but you.”

“I didn’t say she held your heart and I am not such a green girl as to think a man can be involved with a woman while his heart stays detached from her. You mistake, if you think I was not aware of your interest in Celia. I may be inexperienced sir, but not blind.” She got to her feet, “Now, if you will excuse me?” She hadn’t known for sure that he was involved with Celia until just then. His entire reaction to the suggestion had given him away.

“Did you walk here…” he frowned.

She supposed he was now trying to change the subject and discover how far she had to go. She was not a simpleton, but managed not to appear suspicious as she led him astray and said, “I did. My horse is with my friends. I came for a walk, while they attended to matters they did not wish to expose me to. But I must get back to our meeting spot as we have a long ride back.” There, that should throw him off nicely. He would think that friends of theirs were hiding them, safe and sound.

He called out to her as she hurriedly gave him her back and started off in the opposite direction of the abbey, “Amanda, please remember that I will do whatever you need to help your brother. Trust me because you can.”

“Trust you? I shall when I have reason,” she said over her shoulder. “You can move about more freely than we, so if you want my trust, help us find Elly Bonner.”

She hurried into the woods, found a tree she could climb and immediately did so. There she remained until she caught sight of Sir Owen heading in another direction. She smiled to herself, clamored down and headed toward the abbey.

Breathless, her shirt askew, her curls tumbling about her face, her braid undone down her back and in wild disarray, Mandy rushed to the forest’s edge.

She stopped to lean against the large trunk of an evergreen to catch her breath and just as she caught it, she lost it again.

Only a short distance away and how had she not seen him sooner, stood the duke. His blue eyes ablaze with an unreadable expression, and his lips, those sensuous lips were curled with disapproval as he regarded her.

“Well, well, my rough and tumble ward, where have you been?” he said slowly.

“’Tis not for you to question my activities,” she returned not knowing why she sounded so curt.

“Oh but you mistake. As your guardian, I have every right to question your activities,” he returned his voice edged with anger.

“Really, do you think so? I do not. After all, you haven’t cared what we did, or where we went, for almost a year, why should you now?” returned the lady with her chin well up.

“Indeed?” he said casting a superior glance over her. “You are much mistaken. You and your twins’ activities are now very much my affair,” he replied sardonically.

“As to that, we did not ask you to come here and we don’t need you, Your Grace,” she snapped. “Or should I address you as Uncle Brock? Really, how does one address a guardian, especially a guardian one has kissed?” Had she actually said that? She heard the words reverberate in her head. She said that. How did she say that?

Apparently the notion of his being addressed as ‘Uncle Brock’ by a woman he had kissed, left him momentarily non-pulsed, but he eyed her, his temper now in full bloom, as he made a recovery and drew himself up to his six foot something. His voice when it came was a shout, “Certainly not! Uncle Brock? I have the good fortune not to claim blood ties between us. However, I am most certainly your legal guardian, my dear, and have every right to know where you have been and what you have been doing, unless of course what you have just done shames you?”

“I…I went for a walk,” she answered not looking into his eyes. It was what she did. No lie there.

“Were you not afraid you might be seen?” he asked quietly.

“I was careful,” she answered feeling like a devil.

“Were you?”

“No one followed me here,” she answered.

“You mean to play semantics with me, child. Tell me, what of the friendly fellow in the woods, whom I recognized as Sir Owen. What of him?”

Faith, she thought desperately. He had seen her with Sir Owen. What would he think? What did she care what he thought? How dare he spy on her or think she was carrying on with Sir Owen, for it was what he thought—she could see it on his face.