She grimaced and said nothing.
A few moments later, they approached the abbey ruins and she did a quick scan before they rode toward the makeshift barn.
Dismounting, they hurriedly put the horses away, where Mandy made certain there was water in the trough while Ned and the duke undid the tack and put it away.
The duke said nothing as he followed the twins and Mandy noted to herself that he was taking it all in. They removed the rocks and straw covering the trap door, and descended the wooden steps to a long narrow corridor of stone and earth to the dimly torch lit and vaulted chamber they had been using at the far end of the tunnel.
As they entered, Chauncey awoke with a snort and knuckled his eyes. He stared at the duke and remarked, “Coo…lud bless ye, loveys. What ‘ave ye brought me?”
Chapter Six
VISCOUNT SKIPPENDON’S DARK coach rolled easily over the surprisingly smooth main pike. It was a bright summer day and the sun gave its rays lovingly, as it spread its light over the harebells in the adjoining fields.
The purple tints of heather brushed the breeze with a gentle scent as the black carriage passed and invited all passerbys to enjoy the intoxicating fruits of the season. However, the duke was lost in thought.
Refreshe
d by a night’s rest, the viscount’s driver seemed to have forgotten the event of the previous day. He made no mention of it to the duke when he opened the door for the duke to climb inside earlier.
Unlike Skip’s driver, the duke had not passed a restful evening and did not notice the beauty of the passing landscape. He cared naught for the poetic sweetness of a pleasant summer’s day, and in fact, he was in a black mood.
He sat back in Skip’s coach, his hat on the seat beside him and made a mess of his hair as his hands could not be stilled. His eyes were shaded by his thick lashes as flitting thoughts hurried about in his head.
His meeting with Chauncey the previous afternoon had gone from close-mouthed suspicion on the groom’s part to sudden undisguised and open frankness. He had flung one question after another at the older man and then at Ned. Mandy kept to one side as he threw questions at her brother and groom, and for the most part, this served his purpose. He could see she wasn’t ready to confide, trust or speak openly with him.
He now felt he was in possession of all the pertinent details of the Sherborne dilemma. He had then drawn three conclusions. One: he found he liked young Lord Sherborne. Two: he had decided the lad was an innocent, completely innocent of the crime of which he had been accused. Three: the lad’s prospects looked grim indeed.
The duke had risen from the hour long session in the damp underground chamber the twins had fashioned for themselves deeply troubled. He saw at once that Chauncey would give his life for the twins, had in fact, done just that, in a manner of speaking. He saw that Mandy’s determination to keep her brother safe would always outweigh her good sense, and that he had better take charge of all facets immediately.
He made up his mind to visit their ‘so called uncle’, the Squire Bevis and his son Alfred. He needed to see for himself just what these two men were at bottom. Skip had already given him enough information to draw a conclusion, but as always, he wanted to question them and see whether or not they actually believed Ned guilty of murdering the Brinley girl.
The duke observed at once that the squire’s home was excellently maintained but of modest proportions. Its Tudor walls were acceptably mellowed and displayed an array of trimmed ivy.
His driver reined the big matched bays alongside the front courtyard steps and the duke didn’t bother waiting for the driver as he opened the door and jumped nimbly out of the coach.
Smiling to himself, he perched his top hat rakishly on his head of black hair, adjusted his vest and took the steps to the front door which was immediately opened by an elderly retainer.
The duke walked inside a small central hall, handed the weathered fellow his card and said pleasantly, “You may advise the squire that I am here on a matter of utmost urgency and hope he will forgive the suddenness of my visit.”
The butler looked stricken and said, “I regret, Your Grace—most assuredly I do—that the squire is away from home.”
“And Mr. Speenham…is he also away from home?”
The butler’s expression immediately relaxed, obviously pleased to answer in the positive and said, “Mr. Speenham is in the morning room taking breakfast.”
“Then if you will be so kind as to take him my card, I shall be pleased to wait here,” the duke said, dropping his gloves and top hat on the wall table beside him.
The elderly retainer made a slight bow and hurried off. When he returned, it was with a bow of his head, as he said Mr. Speenham would be pleased to have you join him at the table for breakfast.
The duke was led down a dark corridor to a surprisingly small but bright room and raised a brow to find a young portly man in a gold dressing gown, cutting his ham and stuffing his face.
Alfred Speenham put down his fork, got to his feet and extended a hand, “Your Grace, how can I express my infinite pleasure to have you visit me in my home. It’s such an honor.” He waved the hand the duke had immediately released toward the table, “Do please, sit and join me. ‘Tis a simple fare as I detest the sight of red meat in the morning, but I can have some brought up for you if you like.”
“Unnecessary, sir, I have already breakfasted,” said the duke determined to be friendly although he had already formed an aversion for the man. He knew it wasn’t fair, but it was what it was. He seemed to have a knack of knowing who he would like and who he would not, based solely on one’s initial comportment.
The duke took a chair and sat facing his host, while the butler poured him coffee. He thanked the elderly retainer and waited only for the man to leave and close the door behind him before saying, “No doubt, Mr. Speenham, you may have guessed why I am here.”
Alfred managed a grave expression. “Ah yes, these weeks have been simply dreadful, both for my father and me. You can have no notion what it is like to have one’s name connected with a suspected murderer’s. Why, I have been avoiding all activity outside our grounds, in hopes that the talk will subside.”