Simon's Brides Page 7

  “I’ll get on with it. Sorry.”

  “You and Beth!” Amy smiled. “Both of you will drop everything to spend your time with a book.”

  Dora grinned back. “I’ll finish. There isn’t much more. See.” She pointed to the short stack of books waiting to be put away.

  “Well, hurry and then change your gown for tea. Remember, we want to impress Simon’s aunt.”

  Dora nodded and Amy left the room. She found Caro and Ellie arranging furniture.

  “Where’s Beth?” Amy asked.

  “I haven’t seen her,” Ellie answered. “She’s probably some place reading.”

  “Caro?”

  “I haven’t seen her either. Ellie is right. You know how she is.”

  “Beth’s not in her room,” Amy informed them.

  “Oh, dear,” Caro said, “Then, where could she be?”

  Amy’s stomach dropped. She dashed up the stairs and checked each room on that floor, but Beth was not in any of them. She hurried back to the study.

  “Dora?” she questioned, trying to keep the worry from her voice, “Have you seen Beth?”

  Dora glanced up from stacking books, “Not since we left the cottage. Right after the wagon tilted, Beth mentioned she’d forgotten her threads. She said she would only be a minute. Then, we all rushed to help Chester. We were so busy saving the things on the wagon, I forget to check on her. But, I’m sure she’s here.”

  A chill shaft of fear splintered through Amy. Could something have happened that she didn’t know about?

  Dora asked, “Did you check her room?”

  “First thing. There’s no sign that she’s been there. Caro and Ellie haven’t seen her.” Real anguish clutched at Amy. Her heart sank and a tight, ugly feeling settled in her stomach. Somehow, she knew Beth wasn’t at the manor. But, what could have happened to her timid sister?

  “Dora, you stay here.”

  She summoned Caro and Ellie to the library.

  “I’ll get Simon,” Amy whispered and ran from the room.

  She found him sitting by Harold’s door with David beside him. Both men stood as Amy charged toward them.

  “My Lord, I must speak to you,” she demanded, amazed that seeing him didn’t seem to affect her at all.

  Simon nodded to David and followed Amy as she ran down the steps. He hurried after her and when they reached the main level, she turned. Gripping her hands in front of her dress and trying hard to prevent her voice from shaking, she whispered, “Something has happened to Beth. We can’t find her.”

  “Bethany?”

  “Yes. Dora said once we started home, Beth mentioned that she had left something at the cottage. That she would be but a minute. However, none of us have seen her since we arrived here. There’s no indication she’s been to her room.”

  “Could she have remembered other things she might have wanted to bring? Or, perhaps she found something at the cottage to delay her?”

  Amy shook her head. She felt the panic raising.

  “Beth is--she is retiring. She would never have stayed behind at the cottage by herself. If she had suspected she might be delayed, she would have asked one of us to return with her.”

  “Then, I’d better look for her.”

  She shook her head. Not by himself. He didn’t understand. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Beth would never have stayed at the cottage by herself. Someone, or something, must have detained her.

  She watched Simon hurry toward the kitchen where Chester and Clifford ate their evening meal. Amy didn’t wait for him. She dashed to the library.

  “I’m going with Simon. You all stay here. And, don’t worry. We’ll find her.” Amy stumbled from the room, a silent prayer on her lips.

  Of course, Simon might object to her accompanying him, but she didn’t care. She intended to be at his side when he left the house. She dashed for her room for a shawl.

  “Wait one moment, dearie,” Agatha stepped into Amy’s path.

  “Oh, Aunt Agatha, not now.”

  Agatha ignored Amy’s comment, laying a hand on Amy’s arm.

  “Now, Amelia. It is Amelia, isn’t it? I will have to learn your names. You must tell me where you have been and where you are going. Oh, and I must remind you that ladies do not run. And, my dear, your color is not good.”

  Amy took a deep breath. “I must accompany Simon. Beth is missing.”

  “Now, Amelia, I can’t let you chase after my nephew.”

  Amy gritted her teeth. “I am not chasing after Simon. I’m going with him to find my sister.”

  Agatha lifted an eyebrow. A quirk she and Simon shared, Amy decided. “Find your sister? Is she missing? And where have you been?” Agatha tapped the index finger of her other hand on her cheek. “I haven’t seen a one of you all day.”

  “We went to the cottage to pack our things.” Amy swallowed hard, trying to figure how to get away.

  “I must go. Beth is not one to stay by herself.”

  She pried Agatha’s hand from her arm, turned and fled back toward the front door, the need for a shawl forgotten in her anxiety. Amy was positive that Beth would never have stayed behind on her own. Something had happened to her sister.

  She flew out the door and stopped beside Simon. “I’m going with you.”

  “I’m riding. You’ll stay here.”

  “Look, Simon,” She turned toward him, “You have no idea where she might be, or who to ask, even where to go.” Her voice shook but she didn’t care. She was too worried about Beth.

  “I thought I would start at the cottage,” Simon broke into her thoughts.

  “At least I know where she will not be,” Amy reiterated.

  “I’d rather you stay here.”

  “I’m going, with you or without you. If I must, I’ll walk,” Amy announced. She had no intention of staying behind.

  “You’ll have to ride one of the carriage horses.”

  “Fine. I can ride one.”

  He glared at her for a moment. “Chester,” Simon commanded, “Bring one of the horses.”

  “Ain’t no other saddle.”

  “Neither of the carriage horses can be saddled. Can you ride without a saddle?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, I can ride without one. Just bring the horse,” Amy demanded. She and her sisters had ridden bareback around the estate many times but she decided she didn’t need to mention that to Simon.

  As they waited, Simon asked, “By the way, what happened to your father’s stable of horses?”

  “Harold sold them and all the tack,” Amy whispered, knowing how much that action had hurt Caro.

  He glanced in the direction of the stable, “I might have guessed.”

  Simon paced back and forth while they waited.

  “First, we check the cottage,” Simon announced as Chester ran forward with the horse. She noticed Simon’s hesitation before he grasped her around the waist and hoisted her onto the back of the horse. She tried not to react, she did, but she shivered as more strange heat coursed through her.

  “Amy,” Simon said, “Beth could have sustained a twisted ankle, or something, and is waiting for rescue. Nothing more than a slight accident. She’s intelligent enough to wait for someone to come for her. Don’t worry so.”

  Amy swallowed a sigh. He thought she shivered from fear. He didn’t know his touch caused that reaction. And, she wasn’t going to tell him.

  Simon mounted his horse and turned toward the cottage path. Amy tried to console herself. If Beth had suffered a twisted ankle, she would be waiting at the cottage. She kept reminding herself Simon had analyzed the situation and made the proper determination. Beth had to be at the cottage awaiting rescue.

  As they rode, Simon often glanced at Amy who looked sick with worry. For a brief moment, he wanted to gather her in his arms and assure her nothing had happened to her sister, that Beth would be waiting for them.

  He forced himself to dismiss Amy’s concern, certain he had guessed correctly. Beth had only su
ffered a minor injury and awaited rescue. Certain he had the situation in hand, he turned his thoughts to the fields he’d viewed that morning. The estate was a prosperous place. A feeling he didn’t want to identify, but one similar to pride of possession swept over him. Shocked, he wondered from where that sensation had come. He glanced at his riding companion. Would she be happy caring for the estate and could she do it as well as a man?

  The question didn’t surprise him considering the unusual feelings Amy stirred in him. However, the emotions that bothered him more were his feelings about the estate. He was a sailor, a man of the sea. He shouldn’t be concerned with the land. Women, however, were another story. With the occasional willing widow to satisfy certain needs, women had never played an important part in his life and he had no desire for one to occupy a special place now. At thirty, he’d made his choices.

  The sea! His ships!

  Definitely not a woman.

  Yet, just looking at Amy sent a shaft of desire through him. He found himself thinking about taking her to his bed, about pleasuring her and himself until she screamed with it. His groin tightened and he grimaced. He shouldn’t think about that now. No, instead he should concentrate on the missing woman. He tried to remember what Beth looked like but Amy’s face appeared, blocking out the faces of her sisters. He swore silently, grateful when the cottage came into view.

  “Simon,” Amy’s shaky voice drew his attention. “I just happened to think of something. I doubt it means anything, but I believe you should know.”

  Simon glanced at her. “What should I know?”

  He stopped his horse and watched as she chewed her lower lip. Whatever she had to say bothered her. No, it was more embarrassment than concern, he decided.

  “You know Harold insisted I marry him.” She shifted on her horse. “One day, shortly after we moved to the cottage, he came here. He said he had ways of making certain I did what he wanted. He thought to force me into accepting his suit by telling me that he would sell my sisters if I didn’t agree to ah--marriage. He--ah--he said he’d make sure his bestial friends did the buying.”

  “You haven’t mentioned any of this before. Did you tell your sisters?”

  She shook her head.

  Simon groaned. “Why not?”

  Her head snapped up and she glared at him, “I-I didn’t want to worry them.”

  “Come on.”

  Simon gave a disgusted grunt and urged his horse forward. Again, they stopped, this time in front of the cottage. He dismounted, fastened the reins of both horses to a nearby tree and hurried to her.

  “Let’s check the cottage.”

  He reached up to help her dismount. When she placed her hands on his shoulders she shuddered. He glanced at her, but she’d closed her lids, shielding her eyes. Her warm body slid against his and he sucked in a large draught of air. Her scent, spring flowers and woman, sliced through him. Quickly, he set her on her feet, cursing himself. What was the effect she had on him?

  “Let’s find Beth,” he muttered, his voice husky with desire. He cleared his throat and stepped away. For another second breathing was difficult and speaking became impossible. He watched her rearrange her dress, then stride to the door.

  “Beth,” she started calling even before she turned the door knob. “Beth! Beth? Are you here?”

  She paused and then opened the door. Simon followed. Now that he had himself under control he also yelled, “Bethany?”

  Silence greeted them.

  “I’ll check the back,” he ordered. “You go through the cottage.”

  She glowered at him and started up the loft steps, calling as she went. By the time Simon reached the second row of fruit trees, he heard a door slam followed by Amy calling him.

  At just the sound of her voice sudden heat surged through him. He swore to himself. Somehow he had to block his reaction to her.

  Amy followed him into the orchard. “She’s not there and it doesn’t look like she’s been there. Everything is as we left it. I’ll look on the east side of the cottage now.”

  Minutes passed.

  Then Amy screamed his name.

  He dashed around the building. He found her kneeling in the dirt. For a second, dread raced through him. He studied Amy, then the ground. She was bent over a package of some kind, not Bethany.

  Simon’s steps ate up the distance until he stood beside her.

  “What is that?”

  “This belongs to Beth.” She picked the package from the ground and held it next to her chest. “She’s been working on a tapestry. These are her threads. See, here is her paper of needles and her scissors.” She looked at Simon, her eyes glazed with tears. “Simon, something terrible has happened to my sister.”

  Simon gazed at the ground around her, then he knelt and examined the dirt and scattered leaves.

  “Amy, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there’s an indication a bit of struggle took place here. Come on, I want to follow these tracks.”

  “Beth would never have dropped this package. Her sewing is everything to her. Someone must have grabbed her and forced this package from her hands.” She followed behind him, staying so close, he could feel her breath. Dismissing it he concentrated on the missing sister.

  He stooped to examine the ground. “Looks like they had a horse waiting here. See, all these prints. This was planned.” He pointed toward the track traveling east, “The horse’s shoe prints grow deeper from this point on.”

  As Simon watched the ground, she stayed close. Suddenly, she squealed.

  “Oh, Simon, look!”

  She pointed toward the branch of a tree, almost even with Simon’s head.

  “Just a snag from someone’s clothing.” Simon gave little consideration to the piece of red yarn dangling from the branch and concentrated on the trail.

  “No, Simon,” she shouted, the excitement in her voice making him look again. “That’s one of the threads from Beth’s skeins. She must have kept some of them to mark her path. Don’t you see? Beth left us a trail.”

  Simon stared at her and shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. Someone riding through here caught a sweater or jacket.”

  “No, Simon,” she pulled at his sleeve, setting off a barrage of sensations, none of them appropriate for the time or place. “This is from Beth. I recognize the color.”

  Simon glanced behind him.

  “Amy, next time, don’t yell like that. We don’t know who might be watching. And, I think we need the horses.”

  He turned and strode back the way they came.

  Amy froze. He wasn’t giving up, was he? No, Simon didn’t give up. He wanted the horses. And she needed to stay at his side. She raced to catch up.

  Leading the horses, they followed the hoof prints and the trail of yarn left by Beth. They had walked for half an hour when the threads stopped. Amy stared at the trees ahead in horror. Had Beth run out of thread? Or, had she gotten caught?

  Simon glanced around, and then stepped closer. A touch of sandalwood she now identified as Simon’s personal scent invaded her senses and she grew furious with herself. Beth was missing, had been kidnapped and she’d let Simon’s scent bother her. Think of Beth and what she’s going through, she scolded.

  “Amy,” he whispered, “How much further east does your father’s property extend?”

  She looked around her and bit her lower lip. She glanced at Simon.

  “Our land continues through these woods, and includes at least two more farms. There are two, maybe three empty cottages ahead.”

  She stared at him and shook her head. She murmured, “This doesn’t make any sense, does it? The cottage where we lived is at the far west edge of the estate. The village is north. Whoever took Beth should have gone west. They would have been off Hargrove land in mere minutes.”

  She turned east and stared off into the distance.

  “I want you mounted,” Simon whispered. “Then, I want you to wait here. I’ll take a look ahead. If you hear any kind of n
oise, take off for the manor. Bring Chester, Clifford, David, anyone you can find back here immediately.”

  “I’m not waiting here.”

  “Listen to me. I have the strangest feeling whoever took Beth is holding her for some reason, perhaps in one of those cottages you mentioned. I’m going to try to get close enough to see if I’m right. However, if they see me, at least you can ride for help. I’ll give a shout if I’m caught. Amy, I need you to stay here.”