“That’s utter nonsense.”
Dora questioned, “How will it look? I’ll bet the vicar will cease his interest in Beth. And Simon will be hard pressed to find men for the rest of us. Maybe some rake, or someone who won’t mind having a compromised sister-in-law.”
Amy gasped. Surely, her actions wouldn’t discredit her sisters.
“Unfortunately,” Caro added, “We don’t have big dowries. Your unmarried state might make a difference. As it is, Simon has to find men not interested in what we can bring to the marriage financially. And, you get to stay here to manage the estate. That’s already difficult, but...” her voice trailed off.
Amy stared at the three of them. They were telling her she had no choice, no choice at all. She wanted to curse at her behavior this night. However, she had to be honest with herself. She had thrown herself into Simon’s arms. Why, she didn’t know, only that she had let him comfort her. She was old enough and had handled enough trials on the estate that she knew she needed no man. Yet, she wanted Simon to kiss her, to bring her the pleasure she’d experienced in the garden.
And Ellie? Her missing sister had slipped from her mind completely. How could she have allowed that to happen?
She sighed with a mixture of disgust and resignation. “I suppose I’ll have to marry him.” She tried to ignore the pleasure darting through her at her own words.
“Come on,” Caro placed her arm around Amy’s shoulder, “Let’s go to bed. I feel as though I must share some of the responsible for this debacle. After all, I did leave you alone.”
“None of this is your fault,” Amy murmured. “I should never have come into Simon’s bedroom.”
Amy sensed that Caro realized there was more to the story than Amy was admitting, but she let Caro lead her from the room. Her thoughts in turmoil, she decided Simon Warner, Baron Kirkley would soon find out that he might have a wife, but it would be a wife in name only. He would never find her in his bed, and she would never bear him a child.
She shook her head in confusion. What had happened to her? She didn’t understand how Ellie’s safety had drifted from her mind. The need to find her sister was of paramount importance. What she should have done was send Simon back out into the night to look for Ellie. Instead she had let him touch her and allowed her to bury thoughts about the curse and its effect on the women of this family.
With the exception of Patience, all the women who had lived in the house and married had died during or shortly after childbirth. Of course she had only witnessed one, but she knew about the others. Oh, yes, she knew all about the other women. Her own mother, Mildred, then Susan, Beth and Caro’s mother, and of course Carmelita. Then Irene, Catherine and even one of their servants. Patience had not died in childbirth, but she had died.
She also remembered the villagers who left the estate to have their children. Even the Foley boys had been born far from Kirkley estate. She didn’t want to believe in the curse, but what else could she blame? Even her pony, Princess, had died trying to give birth. She hated to admit to being superstitious, but what else could provide a reasonable explanation?
If she had to say vows with Simon, she knew one thing. She would never occupy his bed. He’d have to force her, and she knew him well enough now to know he would never force any woman.
Now, since she had to marry Simon, her only solution would be to avoid him. In due time, when he returned to London she could go about running the estate.
~ * ~
Simon glared at his aunt who had stalled at the top of the staircase.
“I’ll need my robe. Wait one moment.”
“Now, Aunt--”
“Wait!” she whirled around and rushed toward her room. Before Simon could gather his own thoughts, she was back, wrestling her arms into a heavy black velvet robe.
“Now,” she declared, and started down the steps, holding the robe and her night rail out before her like a ship in full sail.
“I’ll write to the Bishop and you can take my note to him first thing tomorrow.”
“Aunt, I have to find Ellie. The Bishop--”
Agatha’s abrupt stop had Simon almost running into her.
“Simon, you have men looking for Eleanor. You can spare the time to do something that must be done.”
“I promised--”
“I won’t take no for an answer. You will go to the Bishop tomorrow.” She glared at him. Simon knew arguing was useless.
“When you return,” she continued, “you can continue to look for Eleanor if your men haven’t found her by then. Now, come along. I’ll get that note ready.”
Simon followed her, wondering how she knew Bishop Worthington. He wasn’t going to ask. At the moment, he fought a consuming fog of guilt. He had lost control.
He waited until Agatha sanded and sealed the note and laid it on the edge of the desk.
“How long will this take?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “I do have to search for Eleanor.”
“The Bishop resided in the south, however, this month he is visiting my cousin-by-marriage, Claude Benson, Viscount Melton. You know the Melton estate, surely?”
Simon nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“Good. If you leave at eight, you can return before ten. The estate is only in the next county. Then you’ll have time to continue the search. Tomorrow, I’ll ask the Reverend Mr. Sudsberry to officiate at your nuptials. Well actually,” she said as she gazed at the mantle clock, “today, since today is already tomorrow.”
Simon almost choked. “Tomorrow?”
“Why of course. Now you get to bed. You have much to do. First you must find that missing girl and then you and Amelia must marry.”
Simon watched his aunt flounce from the room. “Bloody hell!” he muttered. More guilt surged through him. Why hadn’t he stepped away from Amy when she had twined her arms around his neck?
Oh Lord! He had let Neville down and his business, his men. He rubbed his hand over his face. And, he had forced Amy into something she didn’t want. Lust! Somehow, he’d permitted what was below his belt to make his decisions.
Why?
He started to pace the room, his hands behind his back. He had owed Neville so much and to have betrayed him like this... Now, he would not only be the guardian of his daughter, but a husband and responsible for the estate.
Startled, he realized the thought of having the responsibility of the estate was not as repulsive as he once thought. And, he was attracted to Amy. There was some kind of chemistry going on between them, some reaction, something he wasn’t about to examine.
“Bloody hell!” He swore out loud.
He grabbed the bishop’s note from the desk. At least his aunt hadn’t insisted he leave for the Melton estate this moment. He might even get a couple of hours sleep.
~ * ~
Amy slept little that night. Simon occupied much of her thoughts. The pleasure she received from him, his kisses, his touches, his caresses replayed through her head and through her body. Time after time she struggled from her bed hoping to drive thoughts of Simon from her mind. She gazed at the stables from her window.
It was a clear night, and occasionally she’d glimpse one or two men, lanterns held high returning to the stables, then someone else would leave the stable to take up the search. Amy’s heart raced with panic as she watched the dejected return of the men. She didn’t need to hear their reports. They’d found nothing.
She forced Ellie’s situation to the forefront, but her own actions wouldn’t remain in the mental box to which she’d consigned them. She’d behaved like some common tart, throwing herself at Simon like that. It made no sense because she knew she didn’t want any kind of union with a man. Had never wanted a mate because she didn’t want to risk her life. What was there about Simon that attracted her so?
Finally, just as the sun was casting a pink glow over the east, Amy left her bed for the last time. And, Ellie had become the center of all her thoughts. She could only pray that Ellie wo
uld be found today and safe. That was all Amy wanted. She’d say vows with Simon if only Ellie could be returned to her family. What would she do if Ellie had been ravaged? No, she couldn’t let that thought gain control.
Amy frowned and wondered if she could bargain with the Lord. She’d be happy to offer almost anything to get her youngest sister back, safe.
But, there was no encouraging word about Ellie throughout the day. Before afternoon tea Simon returned from his search and called her into his office.
“Amy,” he began, “I--I need to apologize to you. About--about last night. I should never have taken you into my room.”
She felt her face warm and wondered if her face matched her dark red hair. She didn’t reply and Simon continued, “I saw Bishop Worthington this morning and I was granted a special license. We’ll be married as soon as I find Ellie.”
“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?” Amy whispered.
Simon shook his head, “I’m afraid not. Aunt Agatha has already spoken to the Reverend Sudsberry. We will wed. As soon as Ellie is returned.”
“I don’t want this,” Amy twisted her hands in front of her as the words caught in her throat. Being in the same room with Simon did something to her. Once again, her breathing was affected, her heart beat faster, her blood raced through her veins.
“I know,” he replied, bowing his head. “And, you can’t know how sorry I am that you don’t have a choice. However,” he looked up, “marriage to me won’t be so bad. I’ll try not to make too many demands. And, I do have the business in London to operate.”
“I really don’t want to talk about the--the future,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on her hands. She wasn’t going to tell him now that she would never share his bed.
“I understand. But, we’ll make the best of it, won’t we? However, now I must spend the rest of the day looking for Ellie.”
Amy sighed. “I won’t marry you if you don’t find Ellie.”
Amy didn’t like the expression of disgust on his face. Was that because he found looking for her sister distasteful? No, that made no sense. He was a gentleman and accepted the responsibility of the women as a duty, not something repulsive. It must be that he found the prospect of marriage to her upsetting.
“Is there anything else?” she asked, wanting nothing more than to escape to her room.
“No. Only that we’ll hold the service in the parlor. Do you have any friends from the village you would like to invite?”
“No. Only my sisters.”
“Amy,” Simon’s voice carried a note of frustration. “I promised to find her. Please, give me time.”
“Is there anything else?” she repeated.
“No.”
She fled the room. There should be some way to stop this travesty, but she couldn’t think of a thing. A horrible thought occurred. The longer he took to find Ellie the more time she’d have to think of some way to get out of this situation.
Guilt surged through her. How could she even think such a thing? She wanted Ellie back home and safe. That was what was important. She would have to marry Simon, but first Ellie had to come home.
“I don’t want to think about any of this,” she muttered as she went in search of her sisters.
That night, she was much too upset to eat. She ordered a tray sent to her room. Everyone in the household retired early, every one, that is, except Simon and several of the men still looking for Ellie. Amy had no intention of staying below stairs to let Simon find her alone again. The last time she had waited for him had turned into a disaster.
Bone weary and sick at heart, she climbed into bed. With the sleeplessness she had endured the night before, she could only hope to fall asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow. However, she tossed and turned caught in thoughts of Simon, his effect on her and what she had allowed to happen.
Just when the dream began, she didn’t know, but once again the nightmare that had terrorized her as a child plagued her now.
~ * ~
Again she was six years old and her father placed her on her new pony. How she loved that animal. It belonged to her. Not something to be taken away from her, like her mother or Susan. Nor something she’d have to share with her half sisters, Bethany, Caroline and the baby Dorthea who was just learning to walk. No, that pony was hers and hers alone.
She lived again the excitement of taking carrots to her pony and the day she, her father and Carmelita decided on a proper name. The dream shifted and she sat beside Carmelita as her stepmother cried out in pain. Papa was not there, the housekeeper had gone for him, and all Amy could do was hold Carmelita’s hand and tell her everything would be all right.
But, it wasn’t all right.
In the dream her father arrived, followed by the housekeeper. He grabbed Amy and yelled at the housekeeper to take her from the room. But not before Amy saw the blood. Blood on her own skirt, a flood of dark red soaking into the linens under Carmelita. She stared again into the sad face of her father.
Then, Carmelita was gone, her babe, not big enough to live, dying with her. Amy never saw Carmelita again. Her father told her about heaven, where her mother and Susan had gone. She didn’t understand, she hadn’t wanted to understand.
But, the nightmare was not finished. Servants, long gone from the Manor, appeared before her. They spoke of the curse, that a woman who married and lived on the estate would die giving birth.
Once again the dream switched, and she was in a corner of her pony’s stall. Princess was lying on straw, moaning and straining. And, again, there was blood, so much blood. Her father found her hidden in the corner and yelled at her. He picked her up and although she kicked and screamed, he carried her away scolding her with every step.
And, once again she heard the words. Birth, something wrong. We’ve lost her. The words “birth”, “something wrong” and “lost her” had been the same words she’d heard when they carried her from Carmelita’s room.
Birth meant blood and something wrong, and as she grew older, death! She knew at six that she would never suffer through a birth. At twelve she knew she would never marry, never risk her life to have a child.
~ * ~
Amy awoke from her nightmare, her face covered with tears. “Never,” she whispered as she struggled to rise.
She didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. The nightmare would come again, and she didn’t want to remember what happened to females, even mares, who attempted to give birth on this estate.
The property would be hers in a little more than a year, and she would stay here and care for Kirkley Manor and its inhabitants. But, even if she had to marry, had to miss the pleasure from his touch, she would stay out of his bed. She would avoid him as much as possible. She wasn’t going to die. She had too much living to do.
She dressed and made her way to the family dining room. None of her sisters had risen yet, but Simon sat at the table, his expression as gloomy as she imagined hers to be.
“Any news?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Amy asked the maid for a cup of chocolate and stared straight ahead. She didn’t want to talk and she thanked the Lord that Simon seemed unwilling to involve himself in conversation.
The clink of silver against china was the only noise in the room. Amy finished her chocolate, and even managed to consume some food spread out on the buffet.
Suddenly, Clifford Foley dashed into the room.
“Sorry, my Lord, you best come.”
“News?” Simon asked as he threw his napkin to the table.
“A horse just raced into the yard and the stable boys say it’s Eleanor’s horse.”
“Her horse?”
Both Amy and Simon asked together.
“This way,” Clifford spun around and dashed from the room. Amy rose so swiftly her chair fell to the floor.
Simon turned, “You stay here.”
“No,” she shouted and she whirled around the table and darted through the door through which
Clifford had disappeared.
Simon grabbed her arm. “You must stay here. Get Caro. I need her. She can confirm that this is the horse Ellie rode. That horse may give us a hint as to where Ellie might be.”
“Caro?” Amy whispered, filled with jealousy. She reproached herself. They were only interested in bringing Ellie home. She gazed at Simon, his command making sense.
“Get Caro, then the two of you come to the stable.”
Before Simon had left the room Amy took the stairs two at a time, shouting, “Caro! Caro! Get up.”
Minutes later they rushed into the stable yard. They saw Simon leading a small bay from a pasture.
Simon's Brides Page 17
