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Simon's Brides Page 11
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“Now, that nice Oscar Hazleton would be perfect for our Bethany. Squire Hazleton has several excellent farms, two in England and one more in Scotland. You would like Scotland, wouldn’t you dear?”
She didn’t give Bethany a chance to answer, but plowed on, “Yes, I know you would. Of course, we have to consider men for you other girls. I’m afraid Carolyn, with your height, we might have a bit of a problem, but we’ll see. Surely there is someone out there who would like a tall woman.”
Simon glanced around the dinner table and gritted his teeth.
“Aunt,” Simon began, “I don’t think--” But that was as far as he got.
Before he could finish his sentence she started in on the preparations for the ball.
“The ball will be in two weeks’ time. I just don’t see how I can plan anything sooner, and of course, you girls will all need new ball gowns. Invitations, food, there is just so much to do.”
Simon had had enough. The thought of Amy dancing with another man bothered him, but he couldn’t explain why. He stood, “Please excuse me. I’ll leave the planning of the ball to you women, but I will review the guest list. I imagine I’ll have names of my own to add.”
He strode away from the table, furious with Aunt Agatha. How dare she try to marry the women off without a by-your-leave. And a man with a child for Amelia. Besides, the vicar was too old for her, even if she’d reached her twenty-fourth year. He shook his head in disgust.
Amy sat stunned. She wanted Simon to intervene, but he had walked away. He had to know she had no intention of marrying any man, but he couldn’t know about the curse. No, marriage to a man whose wife had fallen victim to the curse was unthinkable.
She glanced around the table. Her sisters didn’t look concerned, but she was. She shuddered, and stood herself.
“I’m sorry,” she began, trying to keep the trembling out of her voice. “Our trip today tired me more than I thought possible. I beg you to excuse me. Whatever you plan for the ball will be fine with me.” She stepped away from the table.
Caro jumped up beside her. “I’m exhausted as well.”
Ellie stood. “It’s been a busy day. I must seek my bed.”
Dora followed suit. “Me, too.”
As Amy started up the stairs, she heard Beth say, “I can’t speak for my sisters, Aunt Agatha. We’ll have to wait to plan this ball. Now, I have sewing I must finish. Please excuse me as well.”
~ * ~
The next morning, Amy rose with the dawn. She needed to get away from the house. She wanted nothing more than to saddle one of the horses returned to the stables last evening and ride over the estate.
When he issued his restrictions, Simon said nothing about riding. Of course, at the time, they had no horses in the stable. However, he’d been clear about what he didn’t want them to do. He’d said walking any distance from the house was unacceptable. He explained his sailors watched the people in the village and there’s been no indication that Harold was close, so she had nothing to fear. And, she needed to get away, away from the idea of marrying the vicar. Away from Simon and the sensations her dislike of him created. Away from all of it!
She was delighted to see several of the stable boys who had cared for the horses before Harold fired all the staff. Smiling she realized that despite his attempts, Harold had not destroyed the loyalty of their servants.
She greeted several boys by name, let herself into the stables and selected a small gray mare.
“Can you saddle her for me?” she asked one of the boys. At first he balked, then, although he seemed to hesitate, he did as she requested.
“Going riding?”
She spun around when she heard that deep, husky voice. “Ye-yes, I thought I’d take a ride,” she answered.
“Not alone, I hope. None of you can ride alone. In fact, I insist I go with you.”
No! she wanted to shout. She’d come to the stables to get away from him. However, if riding required a companion, she had an answer. “Oh, I hoped Caro would join me.”
Simon chuckled. “I’m afraid Aunt Agatha has Carolyn trapped in her bedchamber. They are discussing what kind of a gown would minimize Caro’s height. Besides, you can tell me more about the estate.”
“Caro said nothing to me about a fitting,” Amy snapped.
“I have a feeling my aunt has already decided on your mate.”
“I told you I will not marry,” Amy snarled then stamped her foot. How dare he ignore her wishes. “I will not say vows. You had best tell your aunt that.” She whirled around and grabbed the reins of her saddled horse.
“Now, Amy, let’s not quarrel this morning. It’s too nice a day to worry about what’s going to happen or not happen. And, if you want to ride, you had better agree to my company, otherwise, I’m afraid I must forbid you from leaving the stable.”
“But--” she spun around.
“No, I can’t permit any of you to go riding alone. It’s too dangerous.”
“But,” she tried again, “there’s been no sign of Harold.”
“No, not of him, but we have no idea who he has employed, or when they might strike. I can’t risk your safety, or the safety of your sisters. I owe it to your father. Now, come, let’s not waste anymore of this morning. You can let me accompany you, can’t you?”
He grabbed the reins from Amy’s hands and led the animal to the mounting block. She followed and after he helped her into the saddle, she bit back a sigh. It seemed she would not be able to get away from him, no matter how much she desired to be alone.
As they rode away from the stables, Amy decided to savor this outing. She would ignore Simon. In fact, she would pretend she was alone. She would enjoy this ride no matter what. She spurred her mare into a gallop relishing the breeze blowing in her face. Freedom! At least for a short time.
Suddenly, she felt the presence of another horse beside her. Simon’s mount raced beside her own. He reached over and grabbed her bridle slowing the mare.
“Slow down,” he shouted.
She just grinned. She had no intention of slowing. And she had no desire to let him tell her what to do. Slapping at his hands, she tried to knock him away.
She didn’t succeed.
Her mare slowed more, then stopped as Simon’s mount moved close to hers. He reached across their horses and for one frightening second she hung suspended in air.
Before she could scream her opposition, she slammed into hard muscled thighs. She gasped in surprise. Then anger consumed her. She twisted and turned, fighting against his hold.
“How dare you,” she shouted struggling to get free, her heart beating in double time. Of course, it was fear. It had to be fear. What else could it be?
“Hold still,” he ordered. “I can’t control you and my horse.”
Amy glared at him, “Control your mount. You don’t need to control me. Just let me down.” She couldn’t stand the effect he had on her.
He held her against him, “You were being foolish, stupid in fact.”
“Why? My mare was under my complete control. How dare you stop me and drag me out of the saddle!”
She took a deep breath planning to further condemn his actions. Once again, sandalwood and the smell of horse invaded her soul. She fought against the effect of his scent trying to gather her anger. She needed to make some kind of scathing remark.
She didn’t get a chance to say another word. He lowered his mouth to hers.
One second she was fired with rage, the next she was consumed with a burning need she could not identify. As his tongue ravaged her mouth, his heat slammed through her and she melted against him. Pleasure thrummed through her and she sought to press herself closer and closer yet.
The field disappeared, the shifting of the horse faded from comprehension. The only things to register were the warmth of his lips pressed to hers, the play of his tongue against hers, and his heated breath caressing her face.
Then he pulled away.
Amy shuddered. She battle
d a sense of rejection. She didn’t want him to end the kisses. She didn’t want to face the reality that he’d pulled away from her. She didn’t want to admit that Simon Warner affected her the way he did. It couldn’t be. It just could not be!
Suddenly ashamed of herself, she straightened. She had no business letting him kiss her. Warmth invaded her cheeks and she suspected her face had turned red with shame.
Pulling away, she mumbled, “You can release me now.”
Simon glared at her. Something about Amelia Hargrove affected him as no other woman had ever done before. He kissed her when he had promised himself he would avoid her.
Damn.
How was it he couldn’t keep his hands and his mouth to himself? After all, he was no untried youth. He was a ship’s captain, a business man, a leader of men, a man destined to claim the sea as his mistress. He had no business claiming the lips of the daughter of his mentor. He had no business wanting to claim more.
He closed his eyes for the briefest second. This would never do. He’d planned his life years ago when he’d decided that marriage was not for him--ever.
He deposited Amy on the ground. Swiftly, he dismounted and led her to her mare who stood nibbling on grass.
“I’d like to see more of the estate. However, I would much prefer to do so at a leisurely pace,” he slipped his arms around her waist and hoisted her into her own saddle. Then he stepped back.
She nodded, and Simon wondered if she’d been as affected as he had been. Well, he wasn’t going to apologize. It was best forgotten--if he could.
He mounted and they rode on at a gentle canter. Simon asked questions and Amy answered in clipped tones. She’s angry, he decided as they passed yet another field of sheep. He gritted his teeth and vowed to find her a husband soon. The ball! He’d find her someone at the ball.
He had to return to his ships, the sooner the better. Something about this estate, the guardianship, drew him in a way he didn’t want to think about. He’d speak to Jonathan Miller in the next day or two about finding someone to help with the estate. Then, once he had husbands for Neville’s girls he’d be free, free to return to his ships and the sea.
His former life. He tried to picture one of his ships gliding through the blue waters of the Atlantic, the sails whipping in the wind. However, for the first time in his life the call of the sea was muted.
“Let’s go back,” he demanded, displeasure sharpening his voice. All of this was getting to him, and he couldn’t let it. Maybe he could talk his aunt into having the ball a week early. And, a manager. He needed one yesterday.
~ * ~
“I’ve no idea what’s wrong with him,” Amy told Beth and Caro. “We were riding over the fields, and I pointed out the different herds. All of a sudden he ordered we turn and come back home.”
“It doesn’t make much sense. This estate is doing well. Harold wasn’t here long enough to destroy the farms,” Caro offered.
“You don’t suppose he’d be angry because he doesn’t like it here,” Beth offered.
“I don’t know.” Amy hung her head in despair. She wasn’t going to tell either Beth or Caro about the kisses she and Simon had shared. She wondered if he realized he shouldn’t be kissing someone he intended to offer to another man.
Not possible, she decided. If his anger was because of their kisses, then he would have been seething from the moment she remounted. Instead, his anger appeared long after he had kissed her. It had to be something about the prosperity of the estate that caused his disgust. But, that made no sense either, for he wanted to oversee an estate that could support itself. She gave a heartfelt sigh. Nothing about Simon Warner made any sense.
Their discussion was cut short when Agatha waltzed into the room.
“Oh, there you are.” She cut off their retreat and Amy glanced at her sisters. They weren’t going to be able to avoid Agatha today.
“Might as well get it over with,” Beth whispered.
Amy caught Caro’s slight nod. Once again Beth had the right of it. “Yes,” Amy muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”
So, for the next two hours, the girls offered answers to Agatha’s questions. Finally, just before tea time, Agatha declared the plans for the ball finalized. Amy frowned as she noticed the unhappy look on both Beth’s and Caro’s faces. They didn’t like the idea of strangers invading their home any more than Amy.
She turned prepared to seek her bedroom.
“Amy, a moment of your time.” Simon called to her. “I need to talk to you.”
She made her way down the stairs. As she faced him Simon murmured, “Let’s discuss this in the parlor.”
She relaxed. At least this interview would be conducted openly.
“I want you to talk to your sisters,” he began.
“I speak to them every day. Is there something specific I’m to say?” For a moment she tensed. “Has someone seen Harold?”
He looked startled. Frowning, he cleared his throat. Shaking his head, he said, “No. Harold seems to have vanished. However, this has to do with the responsibility your father gave me. I need some idea of what your sisters desire in husbands. I need to know what you might want in a mate.”
“I have no intention of ever marrying,” she snapped. How many times was she going to have to repeat herself before he understood she would not marry?
“All right. We will discuss what you want at a later time. However, I wonder if you could ask your sisters what kind of spouses they would prefer. I do take your father’s instructions, to see you all happily wed, as a serious duty. I want them to be happy with my choices. Therefore, I need to have some idea what kind of men they would consider good mates.”
Amy frowned. His request seemed genuine. If he thought their happiness paramount, he would need to know what each sister thought desirable. And, she could stress how important it was for her sisters to marry older, settled men, men who would take them away from this place and the curse. She nodded.
“I’ll ask,” she assured him. “Is there anything else?”
“Not at the moment.” His brow furrowed, he turned and walked away.
She jabbed her fists on her hips. Could it be that finding husbands for them was not to his liking? If Simon accepted his responsibility, then why was he frowning? Was it her? Or the fact that she asked if he needed anything else?
She should have pointed out again that she wouldn’t marry, but his possible displeasure with her brought a lump to her throat.
Amy started for her own chamber. She would make a point to speak to each one of her sisters about their ideal spouses, but she doubted they would offer any suggestions. None of them had ever verbalized any specific desires to her. She couldn’t remember talking about marriage and husbands with any of her sisters. Was it because she refused to think about marriage herself?
She shook her head and started to grin. This could be fun, or at the least, interesting. She’d start with Caro.
Amy found Caro returning from her visit to the stable.
“He wants to know what?” Caro demanded.
“He wants to know what you want in a husband,” Amy grinned at her. Caro stopped as stunned as Amy knew she would be. Caro stared back at her.
“I’ll have to think about this. I want someone who’s at least as tall as I am and taller would be better. But, for the rest, ask me in a month or three.”
Amy laughed and followed Caro through the side door of the house. “I know it sounds silly, but do think about it. Simon wants to match you with someone you can like.”
“That’s considerate of him,” Caro announced, sarcasm dripping from her tones.
“Let me know when you’ve decided.”
“How soon do I have to have my list of qualifications ready?” Caro asked.
“He didn’t say. Now, I’m going to ask Beth if she has any idea what kind of a man she might want.”
Caro chuckled. “I want to hear this.”
The women found Beth in the family parlo
r, working on a tapestry. She took the request much more seriously than Caro had.
“I haven’t thought about it much. I do know I don’t want to marry a farmer. Aunt Agatha’s choice is not mine.”
“So, you don’t want a farmer. Well, then, what do you want?” Caro questioned.
“I want someone I can like. I don’t care how old or how wealthy. That isn’t important.” She laid her needlework aside. “But, someone soft spoken, someone who wants to help people. Those kind of men are gentle and considerate.”