Page 89 of Beneath the Devil's Mask
“Norrie nodded solemnly. “He’s a duke, you know.”
“Yes, I know that, babe, but my grandfather rarely ever visits the park.”
“He came today, taking the air in his carriage and lo and behold!” Norrie spread her hands in an expressive gesture. “There we were. He just chanced upon us.”
“Did he indeed?” Mandell muttered, knowing full well the duke of Windermere never did anything by chance. What reason could His Grace have for seeking out Anne? Mandell could not imagine it was a good one, considering the last conversation he had had with his grandfather regarding the lady. A strong sense of foreboding stole over him and he made haste to lift Norrie back onto the pony’s saddle.
Turning the reins of his own mount over to the groom, Mandell said, “I will act as Miss Eleanor’s chevalier.”
“I wish Mama would let me ride the pony by myself sometimes,” Norrie said.
But Mandell hardly heard the little girl’s soft grumbling as he led the pony back along the path. When they turned down the part that forked away from the lake, he could seehis grandfather’s shiny landau pulled off to one side, the old man’s liveried servants standing to attention as they awaited his return.
His Grace stood with Anne beneath a stand of elm trees. For a moment, Mandell had eyes for nothing but her willowy form. She looked cool and elegant, as ever his proper Anne.
But he had no difficulty remembering how different she could be in the welcoming dark, turning into a woman of passion and fire in his arms, her slim white body melting against his, their hearts pounding in unison.
Mandell had always found that gratification of desire soon lessened his hunger. He was shaken to find that his yearning for Anne grew greater every time he saw her.
He realized that the moments he spent here in the park with her and Norrie had become precious to him, something to be jealously guarded. The stiff old man standing by Anne’s side was an intruder; winter come to blight the first spring Mandell could remember delighting in for a long time. He did not know what His Grace was saying to Anne to drive the color from her face, but he had a fair idea.
They were both too absorbed in their conversation to take much notice of Mandell and Norrie’s approach. Mandell heard his grandfather’s voice carry to him with disastrous clarity.
“It distresses me to speak so plainly, madam. But I trust I have made my feelings clear regarding your relationship with my grandson.”
Anne nodded.
“Perhaps you had best make them clear to me,” Mandell called out.
Anne looked up, her face coloring with dismay. The duke came about more slowly, leaning heavily upon his walking cane as Mandell closed the distance between them.
“Ah, Mandell. There you are at last.” The duke’s heavy-lidded gaze traveled over Mandell, flicking from where his hand grasped the leading rein to the little girl mounted upon the pony. The sight appeared to afford His Grace no pleasure, for he said, “Something amiss with the child’s groom, Mandell?”
“James is taking care of Nightmare,” Norrie piped up.
The duke gave her a thin smile. Ignoring his grandfather, Mandell held out his hand to Anne. After a brief hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his grasp. Mandell fought a strong urge to pull her to his side, drawing both her and Norrie into a protective circle that excluded the hard-visaged old man. But he contented himself with carrying Anne’s fingers to his lips, smiling into her eyes. He noticed the duke’s hand tighten upon the handle of his cane.
“I am sorry that I am late, my lady,” Mandell said. “I was unavoidably detained.”
“That is quite all right.” Anne withdrew her hand, looking flustered under the duke’s stern frown. “Your grandfather happened by and—and ...”
“And has endeavored to keep you suitably entertained?” Mandell’s voice had an edge to it. He met the duke’s gaze with challenge in his own. “You perceive me all agog to hear what His Grace has been saying to you.”
“I don’t think ...” Anne trailed off, casting a significant glance at Norrie. As though sensing the tension amongst the adults, the little girl had fallen silent, burying her hands in the lengths of her pony’s mane.
“It is time that I was on my way,” the duke said. “Perhaps you would care to escort me back to my carriage, Mandell.”
“It would be my greatest pleasure, sir,” Mandell grated.
He watched as his grandfather took his leave of Anne, sweeping her a courtly bow. But then the duke was the soul of chivalry. Mandell had no doubt His Grace had exercised thegreatest of politeness while shredding Anne’s heart and pride to ribbons.
Mandell pressed the pony’s reins into Anne’s hand. Her eyes were full of trouble and a deep sorrow that made him long to curse his grandfather. He wished he could offer her some reassurance, but he was not enough in command of himself to do so.
He strode after his grandfather, the two of them walking in tense silence back to His Grace’s carriage. Mandell barely contained his mounting rage until they were out of earshot. Then he rounded upon the old man, saying tersely, “How did you know to come here today? How the devil did you know I would be meeting here with Anne? Have you set spies upon me now?”
“That would hardly be necessary, Mandell. You and your lady have not exactly been discreet, choosing to hold your lovers’ trysts in such a public locale.”
“Lovers’ tryst!” Mandell choked. “With Anne’s daughter present?”
