“Let’s finish soon so we can leave for the cottage,” Amy said.
“But, I thought Simon, er, Baron, er, my Lord said we had to stay here,” Beth mentioned.
Amy leaned on her broom.
“We don’t have to obey his every command, now do we? We need to go back to the cottage. We can’t stay here, not with all these men and no chaperone. Our reputations have suffered enough.”
“Perhaps,” Caro entered the conversation, “we should just go along with Simon today and wait until tomorrow to go to the cottage.”
“Maybe one of the women could stay. Mistress Foley would be a more than adequate chaperone.” Ellie stopped dusting the curtains then chuckled at her suggestion.
A deep voice from the doorway interrupted.
“The matter has been addressed.”
That voice! An indefinable feeling washed over Amy. She tried to ignore the sensation. When it wouldn’t go away, she looked for an excuse for it. Apprehension, she decided. That had to be what it was.
Simon walked into the dining room. He reached out and touched Amy’s arm. Immediately, scorching heat shot from the spot he touched to her toes. Dear Heavens! What was this man doing to her?
He looked just as startled. Had he felt it, too, Amy wondered. For a moment they stared at each other, then clearing his voice, he glanced away and removed his hand. He looked at the others and she took a quick breath. The man was impossible. Now, given the chance, she ordered her swirling emotions to calm.
“I’ve already sent for my Aunt Agatha,” Simon explained. “She should be arriving sometime this afternoon. I’m sure you will all agree that my father’s oldest sister will make an adequate chaperone.”
Amy glared at him. He had done it yet again. He had just removed her primary argument for returning to the cottage. And, he looked arrogant and unaffected by the sensations he had wrought only moments ago. He also looked more than pleased with himself. She wanted to scream at him, or swing the broom.
She closed her eyes in frustration, then took a deep breath. Sandalwood. Simon! Her eyelids flew open. She sighed. She needed to get away from him. The cottage was the answer. But how? There was the possibility that his aunt mightn’t arrive today. Then she remembered. There was the matter of their clothing.
“My Lord,” she said, pleased her voice didn’t reflect her frustration. “We cannot stay here without our things. We have no clothing in this house. Everything we own is in that cottage. If we clean this filth, we’ll need a change of clothing. Therefore, we must return to the cottage--today.”
“I’ve said you would be sleeping here this evening.” His voice deepened, and Amy heard the sharp ring of command.
He continued, “All of you are now my responsibility. I have no intention of allowing you to leave this house until I can be assured of your safety. Therefore, you must stay here until I can arrange adequate transportation back to the cottage.”
She could tell he was annoyed as he announced, “My carriage is just too wide to traverse the path I used to get to the cottage.
“The matter is closed, for now,” he added ,stepping away from the door.
Amy’s hand clutched the broom she held. He must have sensed her agitation for he turned back, “You can collect whatever you want from the cottage in a day or two when I have an escort for you or have time to go with you myself. Surely you can do without for a day? Until then, you must stay here. Now, do I make myself understood?”
Amy gritted her teeth and leaned the broom against the wall. He made her so furious. They had lived in the cottage for months. Now, because he had arrived, they were to be imprisoned like the thief confined on the second floor. Oh, good heavens! If he was this obstinate about the cottage, what would he say about her desire to avoid marriage?
She watched as Simon stomped off. He was angry, too. What a shame! She jammed her fists on her hips and glared at his back. He wasn’t going to order her around. He didn’t know it yet, but she had her own ideas on how things went. She intended to see them accomplished. The sensations he engendered in her would be ignored. She raised her chin and stared after the dratted man.
After all, those feelings were only a result of fear. And, as her guardian he could pressure her into marriage. Fear! That must be what she was feeling. It couldn’t be anything else. Now, she urged herself, think of some way to get us back to the cottage.
She wondered if her father had been aware of Simon’s domineering attitude. She groaned. If getting to the cottage this afternoon proved impossible, she’d demand they go tomorrow. Surely, he would allow them that. And, if not, what then? Well, she thought, they would go anyway.
She smiled at her sisters. Somehow she had to assure them things would be alright now that Simon had arrived, even if she had her own doubts. And, she most certainly had her own suspicions.
Oh, Papa, what have you done to us?
A short time later, Amy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the fireplace. As filthy as the uncleaned rooms! Just then she heard another carriage approach and she stiffened. She ran to the parlor and watched from the window.
The driver jumped to the ground and pulled the carriage door open. A tiny woman alighted. She wore a black gown covered with row upon row of ruffles and lace. An enormous black bonnet hid her face.
Simon’s Aunt Agatha?
Amy strained to hear her words as the woman pointed to an overflowing boot.
“What are you looking at?” Caro demanded coming behind her.
“Who do you think that is?” Dora asked now at Amy’s left.
“It could be the aunt Simon sent for,” Amy responded, her voice grim.
Beth whispered, “It looks like she brought her whole household with her.”
“I’ve never seen so much luggage,” Ellie stepped beside Beth. “She must think to stay forever.”
Amy smoothed her skirts, “I’ll have to greet her.” As the oldest, duty demanded she meet their guest and welcome her, whoever she was.
If only we didn’t look so dirty, she thought.
“You don’t look too bad,” Caro said as if reading her mind.
“I’m filthy. So are the rest of you. Beth, could you see if there’s anything for a tea? Dora, you and Ellie see to the beds. I doubt Simon has given a thought to where everyone will sleep. Caro, you stay with me. I don’t want to meet this woman alone.”
A sharp rap on the front door announced their guest.
She came through the doorway and Amy got a good look at her face. Tiny, elfin, curious, popped into Amy’s mind as she stared at the little woman who stood a bit under five feet. Snow white curls peaked from under her bonnet. Amy watched as she untied her bonnet, then raised her lorgnette to her blue eyes and studied Amy.
She uttered, “My God, you are filthy.”
She stepped further into the hall, glanced around and announced, “This place is an abomination.” She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “It smells terrible. I see I have my work cut out for me.”
Then, in a loud and shrill voice she shouted, “Simon Warner, where are you, you rascal?”
Next, she turned to Amy, “You need to clean yourself up, my girl.” She lifted her glasses to her eyes and glanced at Caro. “And you, you are just as dirty.”
Amy opened her mouth to tell this woman to leave. Before she could say a word, Simon rushed into the room. Once again Amy fought the strange emotions flooding through her. She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sensation.
Simon stopped before their visitor. “Aunt Agatha! I see--” he began.
“Simon, these girls are filthy. This house is filthy.”
“Aunt Agatha, these--”
She stepped up next to Simon and tapped his chest with her lorgnette, “These girls need a change of clothing.”
“Look, Aunt Agatha, these girls--”
“Well, my boy, you sent for me. You told me it was urgent.” She glanced around, “Where are the servants? They will certainly have to be replaced.
They obviously have no idea how to care for a house. And, who will bring in my trunks?”
Simon bristled under her regard and opened his mouth once more, but she interrupted again, “I need to rest. I’m not used to riding in a closed carriage for hours. Oh, the rocking and the bouncing were terrible.”
Simon groaned. Perhaps Aunt Agatha had not been the best choice for a chaperone, after all.
“Look, Aunt,” he started again, “There’s a lot here you don’t know.” He pointed to Amy and refused to acknowledge the thrill that shot through him. “Amelia is the oldest of the women who are now my responsibility.”
“Hummm,” Agatha lifted her glasses once more and Simon watched as she looked Amy over. He wondered if she saw what he saw. Her words told him she did not.
“My dear, cleanliness is next to Godliness,” Agatha offered.
Simon frowned and turned to the other sister. “This is Carolyn. And, they are both so dirty--”
She interrupted, “They are filthy.”
“Aunt, they’ve been forced to clean because the miscreant who tried to take over the property left the place a mess.”
Agatha opened her mouth, but now that he had the floor, Simon rushed on. “Deplorable, I know, but he also dismissed all of the servants, so Amy and her sisters have been trying to help with the cleaning.”
Agatha leaned toward him and whispered, her voice loud enough for all of them to hear, “Well, I’ll have to see to hiring servants immediately.” She lifted her glasses once more and gazed at the hall and the visible rooms. She shivered, “A mess, yes, an intolerable mess.”
“Aunt, I can see to the...”
She stepped closer to Simon and in the same loud whisper she asked, “Is what you wrote correct? That you have to find husbands for these women? They are quite old, aren’t they? And, they are so tall.” She shook her head glancing at Amy and Caro once more. “Finding husbands for these women will take all my skill.”
“Aunt, I must find them husbands.” Simon tried to hide his horror. Somehow the thought of letting his aunt marry Amy off to someone sent a shaft of anger through him. He tried to clarify the situation. He declared, “All you have to do--”
“Now, Simon,” she interrupted once more raising her lorgnette to her face, “what do you know about arranging marriages? After all, I’ve been married three times. I know about this business.”
She started toward the stairs but turned back, her face wrinkled in concern, “They do have doweries, don’t they?”
Simon nodded. If he told her how much of a dowery each woman had, she’d be even more appalled. “Look Aunt Agatha, I need your--”
“We’ll get started in the morning. Now, I must rest. What time do you serve dinner here in the country? You do serve dinner, don’t you?”
Simon groaned and glanced at Amy expecting the ever present flash of sensation to shoot through him. However, the only things flashing were her green eyes and they were spitting fire. She was furious. She didn’t like his aunt and if he was honest, Aunt Agatha might not be to his liking either. However, his aunt was all he had. Agatha would have to do.
At that moment, Beth appeared. “Tea will be served in the dining room.”
“At least that room is cleaned,” Simon heard Amy mutter.
Bloody Hell! He glanced again at Amy and shook his head. Her expression said more than he wanted to know. Anger, frustration and the desire to do battle played across her face. Well, he had no choice. They needed a chaperone and Aunt Agatha qualified. After all, he knew well enough that any port in a storm would serve.
He extended his arm to his aunt who had turned back with Beth’s announcement.
“Tea, Aunt?” he said, leading the way into the room.
Amy chewed her bottom lip as she led the way into the dining room. Simon’s Aunt Agatha could only be described as the most irritable woman she’d ever met. And, she would chaperone them? Simon had cotton between his ears.
While Simon helped his aunt into her chair Amy supervised the table service.
“At least she knows how to pour,” Agatha whispered to Simon seated at the other end of the table.
Beth passed the biscuits to their guest and after Agatha broke off a piece and tasted it, she placed the uneaten portion on her plate. She turned her attention to Beth.
“My dear, where ever did you get these biscuits? They are dried out, tasteless, stale. What you need is a decent cook. I’ll have to see about hiring one tomorrow.”
Simon tried to smile. “I’ll see to the cook, Aunt.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll have to find someone to my liking.”
Amy snapped, “I’ll hire the cook.”
Agatha glared at her. “If I’m to help in this household, then the selection of servants should be my responsibility.”
“I’ll take--” Amy began.
Simon interrupted. “I’ll hire the servants. That is my--”
“Now, dear boy, you shouldn’t have to worry yourself about something as domestic as the hiring of servants.” Agatha brushed at the ruffles of her sleeve.
“But, I will,” Simon responded, glancing first at Amy and then his aunt.
Amy closed her mouth and bit her lip. He was doing it again--and she wouldn’t, she couldn’t allow it. This was her house, her estate, at least when she inherited the property. She would hire the servants. She glared at Simon.
Agatha took a sip of tea and dropped her cup into her saucer. “Oh, Lord, this won’t do at all. Now, who made this tea? It seems I must teach you how to make tea, as well as everything else I must do.” She gave a huge sigh.
Beth bristled, “I made the tea. My sisters have never complained.”
Agatha reached over and patted her hand. “I’ll see that you learn, dear. Don’t you worry about it.” She leaned toward Simon, “Another one of your responsibilities?”
Amy heard Simon moan under his breath.
“I don’t need to learn how to make tea. I just need some decent tea leaves.” Beth’s strident voice rose before she huffed from the room.
Amy stared at her sister. Beth never, ever lost her temper. But, just then she sounded furious. Amy shook her head.
Simon seemed to sense the problem. “Look, Aunt, until we get this place cleaned and the servants hired, which I will see to tomorrow, you’re going to have to be patient.”
Agatha glared at Simon, and Amy decided she looked most unhappy with the situation. Then the aunt stood and brushed her hands together, “Is there a room prepared for me?”
“Not yet,” Simon said. “But, I’ll see to it.”
Amy interrupted, “Dora and Ellie are seeing to the rooms as I speak.”
“Dora and Ellie? There are more?”
“There are five women, Aunt Agatha.”
“Oh, Simon, so many? Where are we going to find men for five women?”
“I’ll manage,” Simon grumbled and Amy wondered if Agatha even heard him. Amy grinned. Wait until Agatha found out about Harold Bottomsworth.
Simon frowned then gave a sharp nod and Amy knew he realized that as well.
“And, Aunt, there is one more thing. The miscreant who tried to take over the estate is locked in one of the bedrooms upstairs. I have men guarding--”
“You have a criminal locked up here, in this house?” Agatha slapped the palm of her right hand over her left breast and sank back into her chair.
“Oh, my. Simon, I don’t think I can stay here.”
“Please, Aunt Agatha. These women need a chaperone. You, of all people, must know how important your presence is. What with your sterling reputation...”
Amy watched the tiny woman straighten her spine. Smart, Simon, Amy thought. Appeal to the woman’s vanity. She glowered with distaste. Simon Warner was a real manipulator. She and her sisters were in serious trouble with him in control. She sighed and stood. “I’d best see to the bedrooms. Where are the Foleys to sleep?”
“The Foleys?” Agatha asked.
“The young
men helping to watch--”
“You mean you also have young men staying in this place? Oh, Simon, you’ve given me an impossible task. Hiring servants and finding husbands and now men who shouldn’t be in the house...” She stood. “Send the men to the stable. And send your criminal there, as well. We can’t have this. Oh, no, we can’t have this at all.”
“All right. The Foleys can have the stable for the night. We’ll make other arrangements tomorrow,” Simon responded. “However, Harold will stay in the house.”
Amy had had enough. “Excuse me, please,” Amy nodded to Simon and his aunt and turned to leave the dining room. Simon jumped up and followed her from the room. Before she had managed to take several steps, Simon reached out and grasped her arm, halting her in her tracks.
Simon's Brides Page 5
