Simon's Brides Read online

  Sensations shot through her body. She felt dizzy. She shivered. Cold! No, heat! She gasped for air, trying to fill her empty lungs. Why did he affect her like this?

  She lifted Simon’s hand from her arm and tried to keep all feeling from her voice. “I have work to do.”

  “Amy, I’ll handle Aunt Agatha.” Simon’s husky voice played over her nerves.

  She stared back, fighting the emotions surging into her. “How? She’s going to be impossible.”

  Simon stepped back and Amy turned. She stalked toward the stairway.

  As she climbed the steps she tried to shut out the face of the man at the bottom of the stairs. But also the tiny woman still in the dining room. Oh, dear Lord. What would happen next? And, afternoon tea would not suffice for Agatha. No, she’d want a full evening meal.

  Amy sighed. Their scanty larder would never support the need for that much food. No, she told herself, think about caring for the household. The sheets? Were any clean sheets even available? Musty, if they were clean.

  Simon should not have refused to let them return to the cottage. She had a collection of dried flowers and herbs at the cottage that would freshen up the linens. Time to take things into her own hands. And, she’d give Agatha no chance to criticize her or her sisters’ appearances tomorrow. Her sisters needed clean clothing as much as she did. Tomorrow, they’d travel to the cottage, and Simon could choke on his directives.

  ~ * ~

  Simon stood at the bottom of the stairs staring at Amy’s retreating figure. He couldn’t believe how she affected him. Damn! He’d watched her eyes widen when he touched her, which told him she’d felt the heat the same as him. But, why?

  He clasped his hands behind his back and started to pace. Never had a woman affected him the way Amy did. Shards of pleasure, hot and instant, flooded him when he touched her. Even her soft spring fragrance drifted after her. And, when he took a deep breath, the scent saturated his soul.

  He didn’t understand any of this. Of course, he’d never lived like a monk. He’d known a number of women. They’d understood that he wanted no long-term relationships, that he had ships to sail, places to go, a company to run.

  Now he was faced with finding husbands for Neville’s daughters so that he could return to his own business. Yet, Amy bothered him. Why? What power did she possess that touched him so deeply?

  He shook his head and dropped his arms to his side. Guilt! The emotion that triggered the feelings Amy engendered could only be guilt. Guilt that he wasn’t here sooner, shame that he remembered Amy as a girl no man would want, chagrined that he wanted to escape from this place.

  Analyzing the situation, he could understand why he felt guilty because the girls had been left here with no protection. He nodded at how simple it was. He suffered from a good case of old-fashioned culpability.

  He straightened. There were servants to hire, an estate to run, an accounting to make. Satisfied with his conclusion, he strode toward the study, his steps firm like a ship under full sail.

  ~ * ~

  Amy rose at dawn, her body tense, her sleep anything but restful. Her childhood nightmares had returned. She hadn’t had one for months, not since the reading of her father’s will. And, before that, it had been years since her sleep had been disturbed. But, Simon was here now. And, her marriage was a distinct possibility.

  She shuddered as she remembered the warmth that flooded her when he touched her. It had to be fear and a dash of anger as well. Simon would feel duty-bound to follow her father’s instructions, to see them all wed, but she couldn’t allow that.

  She splashed water over her face and eased into her filthy dress. She slipped into the room next to hers.

  “Caro,” she whispered. “You need to wake.”

  Caro opened one eye, “It’s still dark.”

  “Yes, but we must go. Come on. Get up.”

  Caro groaned and slid from the bed.

  Amy nodded then moved to the bed occupied by Beth.

  “Beth,” Amy pushed at her half sister, “Wake up.”

  Beth opened her eyes and Amy moved to the adjoining room. With Harold in the house and Agatha occupying another bedroom, Dora and Ellie also slept together.

  “Dora, wake up.” Amy nudged her then moved to Ellie.

  Dora stretched and sat up.

  “Be as quiet as you can be,” Amy whispered. “We’re going to the cottage. Come on, wake up. And, we must be quiet. We don’t want to wake Simon, or his aunt.”

  Minutes later, using as much stealth as possible, Amy tiptoed down the back stairs behind her sisters.

  “Shhh,” she warned them as she led the way from the house. When they had gained the path, she called a halt and issued orders.

  “First, get cleaned up, change your gowns then get your clothing together. Dora, I want you to see to all the books at the cottage. Ellie, you and Caro pack the things in the kitchen. Beth, see to the furniture we brought from home. I’ll take care of the herbs and medicinals. Pile everything close to the front door. Clifford or Chester can come get the things. Do any of you have any questions?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “Well, let’s hurry and get started. We have a full day’s work in front of us.”

  At the cottage, Amy gave herself a good wash, donned a fresh gown and began collecting her own things. Twice, she left her task.

  “Any problems?” she stopped in the kitchen.

  Ellie grinned. “Caro and I decided, since we had no breakfast, we should stop for something to eat.”

  “Fine,” Amy nodded. “Tell the others.”

  “It’s Dora’s idea,” Ellie said. “She’s hungry.”

  Amy smiled. Her sisters all teased Dora who could always eat twice as much as the rest of them and not gain a stone. But food sounded wonderful to Amy as well. She needed something to help her wake up. Her sleep had been anything but restful.

  Amy left the kitchen and stopped to gaze at the small pile beginning to grow beside the front door. She smiled and turned toward her room.

  Just then the front door flew open.

  She didn’t have to guess to know who had arrived. Her whole body tingled.

  Grimacing, she turned to face her adversary.

  “Come in, Simon.”

  Simon stalked into the room, his body stiff, his face rigid, his eyes radiating anger. Clifford stood behind him.

  Simon stepped forward and grabbed Amy’s forearm. Once again, a stab of heat rushed through her and she took a deep breath. She shook her head, closed her eyes and tried to identify what he did to her. Fear, she told herself. It had to be fear that caused the sensations that raced through her body.

  “I told you I wanted someone to escort you here,” Simon snarled.

  She opened her eyes and glowered at him, immune to his angry gaze. How dare he speak to her in that tone? After all, she had managed for almost a year without his guidance.

  She felt her own anger escalate. He also needed to learn more about her.

  “I don’t take orders well,” she informed him. “Besides, we’ll soon be finished here. If you want to help, you can take Clifford with you and send him back with a wagon.”

  “Clifford stays.”

  “Clifford is not necessary. My Lord, you forget. We lived in this cottage for over nine months without any protection.”

  “Clifford stays. And, I’m here now. From the moment I returned to London and read your father’s will, you became my responsibility.”

  The word responsibility made Amy sick to her stomach and she thought she would gag if he said it one more time.

  “All right,” she muttered. “Then Clifford can stay. You’d better leave, so we can get finished,” she announced, wishing him back to London.

  He opened his mouth and Amy cringed. She expected an angry retort, but nothing came. Finally, Simon said, “All right. I’ll send Chester back with a wagon. But, I want everybody at the house by noon.”

  Amy glanced around her. There
was still much to be packed. “We’ll try.”

  “I mean it, Amy. Before noon.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” she snapped.

  She waited another moment, and watched as Simon turned around and stomped back down the path.

  A sudden relief surged through her. Why? She scowled as she watched him disappear from sight. She drew her first breath since he had slammed through the cottage door. What was there about this man that affected her so?

  She shook her head. Somehow she had to ignore the sensations Simon generated in her. She sighed and turned to Clifford standing in the doorway.

  Five

  “We will do what we have to do, and if we get home later than Simon wants, so be it,” Amy informed her sisters.

  “Clifford, you go to the orchard,” she said.

  “You need to hurry, Mistress. The Baron ain’t one to be put off.”

  “I’ll handle Simon Warner, don’t you worry. You just go relax under one of the fruit trees. I’ll call you when we have everything ready.” She watched as he hesitated, before he left the house.

  “Simon wants us to hurry,” she mentioned making her way back to the kitchen. “But take your time. We don’t want to break anything or worse, forget anything. Simon will probably not let us return here. Now, let’s eat and have some of that tea. Then, we’ll finish.”

  While she ate Amy ignored her sisters and their conversation and considered the emotions that seemed to rush at her when Simon appeared. She couldn’t give them a name, nor would she try. The one thing she did know was that she could not allow him to have everything his way. The sooner he figured that out the better for everyone involved, especially her.

  After they broke their fast, she ordered her sisters to pack the leftover food items and place them with the other items being returned to the manor house.

  They all worked until nearly noon. Chester arrived with a wagon and Amy called a halt.

  “Beth, you and Dora prepare something for the Foleys and take it out to the orchard. We won’t be ready to leave for a time.”

  “We’ll fix it, but you take it to them,” Beth insisted.

  Minutes later, Amy took bread, chunks of cheese, and fruit to the men. Chester reclined under a tree but Clifford paced.

  Amy nearly laughed out loud for Clifford had adapted Simon’s mannerisms. His arms were behind his back, his hands clasped one over the other as he marched back and forth under the trees.

  “My Lady, his Lordship is gonna be angry, real angry,” Clifford reminded her. “He said to come by noon.”

  “We haven’t finished,” Amy replied. “If Simon wants us back at the house, he’ll have to come and help.”

  “Well, he can’t, not now, anyways. David went back to the village to see his mum early on. With us here, his Lordship has to stand watch. But, he’s gonna be real angry if we don’t go soon.”

  She grinned. She expected Simon to come storming back, demanding the women return. Still smiling she left the Foleys and went to her storage area. She glanced at her bottles, the herbs and drying flowers, and knew it would take at least two hours to pack things. Well, so be it. Simon would be furious, but he needed to learn that he could not dictate to her.

  She squared her shoulders and began sorting and packaging her medicinals. By early afternoon, she brushed her hands over her apron and sighed with satisfaction. Everything was packed and Simon had not made another appearance.

  She called the Foleys from the orchard.

  “You can begin to load the wagon, now,” she announced. She directed and everyone pitched in to help. Soon the small wagon stood piled high with tables, chairs, trunks and boxes.

  Amy heaved a sigh. She would be glad to have the things they’d taken from the manor back where they belonged.

  “Clifford, you and Chester start down the path and we’ll catch up to you,” she ordered.

  Clifford balked, “Can’t do that, my Lady. His Lordship said, plain as day, I was to accompany you. I can’t accompany you if you don’t come with me.”

  “Clifford, we’ve lived here all these months,” she reminded him. “You go ahead with your brother. I have to give my sisters instructions and then we’ll follow. I promise. Besides, without a horse to pull that wagon, it’s much too heavy for Chester alone. He’ll need your help.” She glanced at the wagon and back at Clifford. “Why didn’t he send a horse with you?”

  “Said it were to dangerous on that narrow path fer a team a horses.” Clifford grinned, “Suspect he don’t know how much stuff you have.”

  With that, he shrugged his shoulders and walked forward to help with the wagon.

  Amy almost laughed. She’d had a feeling Clifford would not allow his younger brother to handle the load by himself.

  She turned and addressed her sister. “When we get to the house, all of you unpack your things. Then, Caro, you take the foodstuffs to the kitchen. According to Chester, Cook has returned so she’ll tell you where she wants everything placed.”

  She pointed toward the wagon already moving down the path. “Beth, you and Ellie replace the furniture. You know where it all goes. Dora, you take care of the books and the things from the study. I’ll get the herbs and the medicinals sorted out. Now, hurry. I want to get back to the manor.”

  She led the way, her thoughts focused on Simon and what happened to her when he’d touched her. Caro’s cry jerked Amy from her thoughts.

  “Oh, no!” she shouted. The vehicle had tilted. It looked about to topple. She dashed toward the wagon.

  She reached one side at the same time Clifford jumped beside her. Her sisters strained on the other side pulling the leaning wagon toward them and slowly, it righted itself.

  “What happened?” Dora asked from her place beside Ellie.

  “Hit that rock.” Chester pointed to a stone half-buried in the path, “But, no damage done. See,” Chester nodded to the wheel, “I’ll watch more careful after this.”

  Amy glanced at the contents, “We’d better straighten things out, make certain they won’t slip again.” The women worked for several minutes, However just before Amy signaled to Chester, Beth whispered something to Dora. Amy smiled. Those two were always sharing secrets.

  Amy move to one side.

  “Let’s go. And, we’d best walk beside the wagon. We don’t want our things spilled all over ground.”

  Chester nodded. Once more the wagon began moving, with Amy and Caro on the left side, the others on the right.

  When they arrived at the house, Amy led the way up the front steps.

  “Chester, you and Clifford bring things into the house.”

  Mrs. Foley waited for her. “Yer Aunt is taking a nap. Somebody must wake her before tea time.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Foley. Once we have our things unpacked, I’ll wake Aunt Agatha. Would you tell Cook that we’ll have tea in another hour?” She wanted to ask after Simon’s whereabouts, but decided she didn’t really want to know.

  Mrs. Foley disappeared to deliver the message to Cook and Amy smiled as she caught a whiff of lemon oil. Of course, there still was the musty smell of dust from the drapes billowing before the open parlor windows but the rest of these living quarters were cleaning up well.

  She hurried up the stairs toward her room, licking her lips, thinking of Cook’s cucumber sandwiches. Perhaps this afternoon, they would have a decent tea. And, in the clean room.

  Without pause, she stored her possessions. She unpacked her medicinals and distributed some of her dried flowers in the linen chest. While she arranged her things, she heard someone return. She steeled herself guessing that Simon would visit her room, condemning the amount of time she’d taken to return. To her surprise he didn’t appear.

  She decided to change into her green gown knowing it complimented her red hair. She wasn’t trying to impress Simon. Not at all. She wanted to look acceptable for his critical aunt.

  First, however, she needed to check on her sisters. She wanted them all dressed appropriately for tea so
that Agatha had nothing to criticize. She reassured herself, as she rushed toward their rooms, that her need to look her best had nothing to do with their guardian.

  Her sisters were not in their bedchambers.

  She found Dora in the study. Dora jumped up from a chair next to the fireplace, a thick volume falling from her lap.

  “Dora,” Amy scolded. “You were to return the books to the shelves, not read them all.”