She had to learn to stay out of his reach. She had to stay away from him, even though just his look could turn her blood to a hot liquid, that a glance created a desire that insisted on being satisfied, no matter what her intellect told her would happen if she gave in. She would have to remind herself to stay away from him, until the thought was cemented in her mind, so much so that she would never forget.
The bedroom door opened and he rushed past. She shook her head and recalled his directions.
“Caro, wake the servants. Beth, take Aunt Agatha to the parlor. Ellie, see to Cook and tell her to prepare some food. And, be your most charming, because she hates to begin her day this early.”
Amy rushed back into Simon’s room and donned a simple gray day dress, then hurried to the lower level of the house. Soon the household was alert. Candles and lanterns blazed from many of the windows.
Amy joined the other in the parlor as Simon entered.
“I’ve sent for the Foleys--again. All of you stay here. And, listen to me. Do not venture outside until we figure out what is going on.” He glanced at Amy, nodded, then gazed at the other women.
“You might want to dress. This may take some time. At the moment, there is no sign of Dora. We have no idea when she left the estate, or if someone took her.”
Amy groaned and glanced at the group. Only she and Caro had avoided being kidnapped and of course, Caro had been hurt when her horse threw her. So, this must be more of Harold’s work. She put her thoughts into words.
“Harold must be the one responsible. Don’t you agree?”
She directed her question toward Simon.
He nodded but said nothing as he left the group. Agatha stirred and started for the hall. “Girls,” she ordered, her voice a bit strained, “We’d best dress. No telling how long it will take before they find her. And, let this be a lesson to all of you. You must not leave this house, not for any reason. Do you understand?”
Amy stared at Simon’s aunt. She sounded upset and concerned. Had Agatha grown fond of them in the short time she had been at Kirkley Manor? Amy bit her lip. If the truth be known, Amy had grown fond of Simon’s aunt. And, Simon had come to mean a great deal to her as well. What would she do if he was injured by Harold or one of his minions?
She shivered and Agatha must have seen. She stepped closer to Amy and whispered, “Don’t worry, dear. Simon will find her.”
“I’m also concerned for Simon,” she muttered. “What if something happens to him?”
Agatha smiled. “He’s a good-sized man, Amelia. He’ll look out for himself. Nothing will happen, you’ll see. Besides, he has those ruffians of his with him. They won’t let anything happen to him.”
Amy glanced away as a tremor raced down her spine. How could Agatha be so certain? The sailors had no idea who or what awaited them as they began their search. Why, Harold could have hired a group of cutthroats and given them instructions to murder anyone they saw leaving the house.
She fought the panic that threatened to break from her. She motioned to Caro who was about to leave the room.
“Why don’t you stay with me until the others return?”
“Amy,” Caro whispered, “Everything will be all right. After all, Simon found Beth and he would have found Ellie, if she hadn’t escaped herself. Dora has plenty of mettle. Harold won’t be able to hurt her.”
“But, what about Simon?” the words slipped passed her lips before she could stop them.
“He is not searching alone. He has his sailors with him. He’s sent for the Foleys. The other men from the village will join him as soon as they know Dora is missing. He’ll manage. But, I’ll stay here with you until the others return.”
“Thank you,” Amy mumbled, and started to pace.
Caro grinned at her and Amy snapped, “This is no time for humor.”
“Look at yourself,” Caro said and then chuckled. “You are pacing in the exact same manner as your husband, with your hands clasped behind your back.”
Amy jerked her hands to her sides and grimaced. “I guess it’s catching.”
When the others returned Caro went to dress. Cook arrived with chocolate and tea and some biscuits from the day before. She looked discomfited and Amy realized she was also upset. All of the servants were as troubled about the kidnapping as she and her sisters.
“I’ll send word as soon as we hear a thing.”
Cook murmured her thanks, and wiped her eyes on her large spotless apron before she left the room.
Caro returned dressed in a day gown of sprigged muslin. The soft colors did nothing to improve Amy’s spirits. In silence they consumed the chocolate, while Agatha fixed a cup of tea. No one, not even Agatha, had a word to offer to break the building tension.
Amy stood and strayed to one of the windows facing the eastern part of the garden. Dawn was nothing more than a hint of peach against the horizon. Minutes passed and she watched as a watery sun tried to shine through an oppressive overcast.
As Amy continued to study the sky, a soft drizzle began to fall. The heavens were weeping for them, she decided, then winced at the poetry of her thoughts. She turned away from the window as someone knocked on the door.
“Yes, Caleb,” she addressed the youngest Foley standing at attention in the entryway.
“Lord Kirkley told me to tell ya, we ain’t heard nothing yet. He wants some victuals fer the men and he’ll be in to eat himself, in about an hour.”
“Thank you Caleb. I’ll tell Cook.” Amy followed the young man from the room noticing the damp on his hair. For an instant she wondered if Simon was wearing any kind of protection from the cold, wet fall weather.
She delivered the message to Cook and went back to the women. This waiting taxed her spirits more than anything she could remember. And, only a day before, they had gathered in this room to await word on Ellie. She shivered. Harold was determined to make his point.
Once more she wondered if she was the reason for these kidnappings. Were her sisters being forced to endure this treatment so Harold could force her into a liaison with him? She twisted the gold band Simon had placed on her finger yesterday.
Harold was too late. She was married to Simon now. And, what would Harold do when he discovered that bit of news? Once again a cold chill raced through her and her fear for Dora exploded.
It was almost time for a midday meal when Clifford rushed into the house, yelling, “Miss Amy, Miss Amy!”
She dashed from the room, “Here, Clifford. What has happened?”
“A horse, Miss Amy. Lord Kirkly wants you and Miss Caro at the stables. He says to come now.”
“Caro,” Amy shouted, her heart in her throat, “Simon wants us.”
All the women rushed from the room as Caro and Amy led the way.
“What is it?” Amy demanded as they entered the muddy stable yard.
Simon stepped forward, and Amy’s heart caught at the sight. His brown hair curled from the moisture and glistened like a dark beaver pelt. A brown curl lay against his forehead. Despite the situation, and Amy’s frantic worries, she marveled at the man before her. Her new husband was beautiful. Beads of rain accentuated his dark lashes. His wet shirt clung to his frame and Amy couldn’t help but admire the sculpted muscles of his chest, shoulders and arms.
He blinked and Amy forced her thoughts to the present.
“One of the horses has returned. It might be the one Harold or one of his minions used to remove Dora from the property. Caro identified the last location and I’m hoping she can do it again.”
Without a word Caro stomped through the mud to the stable. Silently, everyone followed.
They stood back and watched as Caro circled the horse. She raised the horses legs and examined the hooves, then the mane and tail. Slowly, she stood and faced Simon.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell a thing. Although this is not one of our horses, I can’t tell whose it is. And, with this drizzle, any identification of where he’s been has been lost.”
&nb
sp; “Well, I had hoped,” Simon replied. “You women go back to the house. We should be able to follow the horse’s tracks if we move now.” He added, “If it doesn’t rain any harder.”
The women trekked back to the house. Amy prayed the drizzle would stop or at least remain only a drizzle. In the house, Agatha excused herself to obtain dry clothes, but Amy waited by a window, watching Simon direct a group of men toward a stand of trees. Would he be able to follow the prints of the horse through the woods? She shook her head and gazed as the men disappeared from view.
She sank onto a settee and stared at her sisters. Did they blame her for what was happening to them? After all, Harold had said she had better marry him. If she didn’t...
Tears threatened, but she shook her head. She reminded herself again, tears never helped anyone. Besides, her sisters didn’t need to see her crying. After all, she was the oldest and she needed to set the example.
She opened her mouth to apologize to them when Bolton asked for permission to enter.
“Yes, Bolton,” Amy responded.
“My Lady, there is a small--ah--child at the door. He insists he has a message for you. And, he refuses to hand it to me to deliver. He was told to give it into your hands only.”
“Me? Not Simon?”
“Not Lord Kirkley.” Bolton looked distressed. “Definitely not Lord Kirkley.
Amy charged from the room. Could Dora have found a way to communicate with them? But, why would she have insisted only Amy get the message--unless Dora wasn’t sending word. What if the message was from Harold?
Real panic squeezed her heart. What could Harold want from her?
“I’m Miss Amy,” she told the boy standing inside the front entrance. Bolton took his place at the door.
“This is fer you,” he thrust a smudged and crumpled piece of paper at her. He spun around trying to dodge Bolton.
The butler reached out and grabbed the boy.
Amy gasped in surprise. She had never seen Bolton move so fast. She reached for the lad, ready to assist Bolton when he cried out in pain. Bolton clung to his hand as the child raced from the house.
“He bit me.” Then Bolton whispered, “I’m sorry Miss Amy.”
“It’s all right,” she replied. “Let me look at your wound.”
“Your note?”
“I’ll read it as soon as I’ve repaired any damage done.” Amy reached for the appendage Bolton was holding.
“He didn’t break the skin,” Amy announced, examining the effected limb, “But, Bolton, I didn’t know you could move that fast.”
He straightened proudly, “When I have to move, I can, my Lady.”
Amy smiled and led him toward the kitchen, the note in her pocket forgotten for the moment.
Fifteen
Amy dressed Bolton’s hand and assured him she would mention his aid to Simon. When she lowered her hand to her skirt, the rustle of paper reminded her of the note. She withdrew the object from her pocket.
Unfolding the message she stared at the heavy black strokes. The words seemed to dance from the paper. She started to laugh. Then, her laughter turned to soft sobs.
Caro had followed her into the kitchen and took the note from Amy’s hands. She began to read out loud to the other women who had also followed.
“By the time you receive this message, Dora will be safely hidden away. I can guarantee you will not find her. And, I’m certain you wish no harm to come to her.
However, to gain her release you must marry me. Of course, you can refuse, but if you tell me no, you will never see your sister again.
Leave your response at the cottage where you went to live after you defied me.
Once we have wed, I’ll release Dora.
Harold Bottomsworth, esq.”
Simon marched into the family parlor. Still smarting from Amy’s earlier rejection and now an inappropriate summons by his aunt, he shouted, “What is going on around here?”
Amy sat on the settee, surrounded by her sisters, her face shiny with tears. Simon’s heart gave a sudden lurch. He didn’t want to admit her pain was also his.
“Bloody hell! Are we too late? Has something happened to Dora?”
“Our marriage must be annulled,” Amy whispered.
“What?” he came to an abrupt stop before her.
What was the woman talking about? If one considered the fact that their wedding hadn’t been consummated, in the eyes of the church, they weren’t married yet. Although he intended to see that condition rectified as soon as they found Dora.
Caro turned and handed him the note.
“You better read this.”
He took it.
“Bloody hell! When did this come?”
Bolton, who’d followed Simon and now appeared to be holding up the door jamb offered the answer.
“My Lord, I opened the door to a small lad, from the village I believe, and he insisted he must see Miss Amy. He gave her that note.”
“What happened to the boy?”
Bolton gulped, “He--ah--ran away, my Lord.”
“Damn!” Simon muttered.
“But,” Amy, her voice quivering, “Bolton tried to stop him and was wounded in the effort.”
Bolton held up the wrapped appendage.
Simon offered a thank you.
“It appears Harold doesn’t know about our wedding.” He glanced up, tapping the note against his hand. “Amy, our marriage cannot be annulled.” Only her sisters had seen her coming from her old room. But that meant nothing. And, it would serve his purpose if everyone thought the marriage had been finalized.
Besides, the thought of annulling his marriage didn’t sit well. Pride played a part in his objection. However, imagining her with any other man stirred more than jealousy. He was also consumed with a need to protect her even as he claimed her for his own. And, she was his.
“Hmmm,” Simon hummed, then thinking out loud he said, “He wants an answer left at the cottage, but that won’t do. I want him here where I’ll have help apprehending him. I’ll send one of the Foleys with my response--”
“Your response?” Amy’s startled voice rang out. “He wants my response. I have no choice, no choice at all.” Her voice caught and Simon had the impression she was about to cry again.
“Amy, we are married. You can’t have two husbands. British law will have you before the docket as soon as you say vows with Harold,” he teased.
“But, we--”
He interrupted. “We are married and there is no way to deny it. I have no intention of annulling our union. However, you will write the note. There is no need to tell Harold that you will marry him.”
He glanced at her, and saw the color rise in her face. Before she had a chance to say anything more he strode to her. “Now, come with me. I’ll dictate and you can write your response to Harold. I’ll have Clifford take the answer to the cottage.”
“Simon,” she began, but he grabbed her hand and pulling her from the couch, he tucked her arm through his and led her out of the room.
“All right,” he said as he closed the door to his office, “Now, we must get Harold into this house. There’s not enough room in the cottage to hide my men and sending them into the orchard or woods will place them too far from the dwelling to be of help.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this. How are you going to convince him to come here?” She gazed at him, her eyes filling with tears.
Once more something twisted in Simon. He couldn’t stand to see her upset. Placing an arm around her he drew her to him. He couldn’t resist. He planted a gentle kiss on her lips and stroked her back, offering comfort.
When he released her she sank into a chair. “What will happen to Dora when Harold learns I’ve already wed you?”
He rubbed his hand over his chin. “Amy, that’s the biggest part of this problem. Let me think. Maybe there’s a way to find Dora before he learns of our wedding,” he muttered. Pacing, he glanced at her and then around the room. H
e paused for a moment.
“Let me think.”
Amy glared at him as if he’d lost him sanity. “There is no way--”
“Yes, there has to be. Listen, Amy, I believe Harold hired someone to kidnap Dora. Remember, he hired someone to grab both Beth and Ellie. He’s not about to soil his hands when he can find someone else to do the deed,” Simon mused.
“Think about it. What’s the saying? A leopard can’t change its spots. Harold will behave with Dora as he has with Ellie and Beth. He’ll hire someone to do the actual kidnapping. I know how to find Harold before he goes to Dora. First, I’ll have someone posted close to the cottage. As soon as he reads the note you’re going to write, he’ll go charging off to wherever he’s hidden Dora. One of my men can follow and we’ll have him and your sister before she comes to any harm.”
Simon's Brides Page 21
