Simon's Brides (6 page)

She stepped closer to Simon and in the same loud whisper she asked, “Is what you wrote correct? That you have to find husbands for these women? They are quite old, aren’t they? And, they are so tall.” She shook her head glancing at Amy and Caro once more. “Finding husbands for these women will take all my skill.”

“Aunt,
I
must find them husbands.” Simon tried to hide his horror. Somehow the thought of letting his aunt marry Amy off to someone sent a shaft of anger through him. He tried to clarify the situation. He declared, “All you have to do--”

“Now, Simon,” she interrupted once more raising her lorgnette to her face, “what do you know about arranging marriages? After all, I’ve been married three times. I know about this business.”

She started toward the stairs but turned back, her face wrinkled in concern, “They do have doweries, don’t they?”

Simon nodded. If he told her how much of a dowery each woman had, she’d be even more appalled. “Look Aunt Agatha, I need your--”

“We’ll get started in the morning. Now, I must rest. What time do you serve dinner here in the country? You do serve dinner, don’t you?”

Simon groaned and glanced at Amy expecting the ever present flash of sensation to shoot through him. However, the only things flashing were her green eyes and they were spitting fire. She was furious. She didn’t like his aunt and if he was honest, Aunt Agatha might not be to his liking either. However, his aunt was all he had. Agatha would have to do.

At that moment, Beth appeared. “Tea will be served in the dining room.”

“At least that room is cleaned,” Simon heard Amy mutter.

Bloody Hell! He glanced again at Amy and shook his head. Her expression said more than he wanted to know. Anger, frustration and the desire to do battle played across her face. Well, he had no choice. They needed a chaperone and Aunt Agatha qualified. After all, he knew well enough that any port in a storm would serve.

He extended his arm to his aunt who had turned back with Beth’s announcement.

“Tea, Aunt?” he said, leading the way into the room.

Amy chewed her bottom lip as she led the way into the dining room. Simon’s Aunt Agatha could only be described as the most irritable woman she’d ever met. And, she would chaperone them? Simon had cotton between his ears.

While Simon helped his aunt into her chair Amy supervised the table service.

“At least she knows how to pour,” Agatha whispered to Simon seated at the other end of the table.

Beth passed the biscuits to their guest and after Agatha broke off a piece and tasted it, she placed the uneaten portion on her plate. She turned her attention to Beth.

“My dear, where ever did you get these biscuits? They are dried out, tasteless, stale. What you need is a decent cook. I’ll have to see about hiring one tomorrow.”

Simon tried to smile. “I’ll see to the cook, Aunt.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll have to find someone to my liking.”

Amy snapped, “I’ll hire the cook.”

Agatha glared at her. “If I’m to help in this household, then the selection of servants should be my responsibility.”

“I’ll take--” Amy began.

Simon interrupted. “I’ll hire the servants. That is my--”

“Now, dear boy, you shouldn’t have to worry yourself about something as domestic as the hiring of servants.” Agatha brushed at the ruffles of her sleeve.

“But, I will,” Simon responded, glancing first at Amy and then his aunt.

Amy closed her mouth and bit her lip. He was doing it again--and she wouldn’t, she couldn’t allow it. This was her house, her estate, at least when she inherited the property. She would hire the servants. She glared at Simon.

Agatha took a sip of tea and dropped her cup into her saucer. “Oh, Lord, this won’t do at all. Now, who made this tea? It seems I must teach you how to make tea, as well as everything else I must do.” She gave a huge sigh.

Beth bristled, “I made the tea. My sisters have never complained.”

Agatha reached over and patted her hand. “I’ll see that you learn, dear. Don’t you worry about it.” She leaned toward Simon, “Another one of your responsibilities?”

Amy heard Simon moan under his breath.

“I don’t need to learn how to make tea. I just need some decent tea leaves.” Beth’s strident voice rose before she huffed from the room.

Amy stared at her sister. Beth never, ever lost her temper. But, just then she sounded furious. Amy shook her head.

Simon seemed to sense the problem. “Look, Aunt, until we get this place cleaned and the servants hired, which I will see to tomorrow, you’re going to have to be patient.”

Agatha glared at Simon, and Amy decided she looked most unhappy with the situation. Then the aunt stood and brushed her hands together, “Is there a room prepared for me?”

“Not yet,” Simon said. “But, I’ll see to it.”

Amy interrupted, “Dora and Ellie are seeing to the rooms as I speak.”

“Dora and Ellie? There are more?”

“There are
five
women, Aunt Agatha.”

“Oh, Simon, so many? Where are we going to find men for
five
women?”

“I’ll manage,” Simon grumbled and Amy wondered if Agatha even heard him. Amy grinned. Wait until Agatha found out about Harold Bottomsworth.

Simon frowned then gave a sharp nod and Amy knew he realized that as well.

“And, Aunt, there is one more thing. The miscreant who tried to take over the estate is locked in one of the bedrooms upstairs. I have men guarding--”

“You have a criminal locked up here, in this house?” Agatha slapped the palm of her right hand over her left breast and sank back into her chair.

“Oh, my. Simon, I don’t think I can stay here.”

“Please, Aunt Agatha. These women need a chaperone. You, of all people, must know how important your presence is. What with your sterling reputation...”

Amy watched the tiny woman straighten her spine.
Smart, Simon,
Amy thought.
Appeal to the woman’s vanity
. She glowered with distaste. Simon Warner was a real manipulator. She and her sisters were in serious trouble with him in control. She sighed and stood. “I’d best see to the bedrooms. Where are the Foleys to sleep?”

“The Foleys?” Agatha asked.

“The young men helping to watch--”

“You mean you also have young men staying in this place? Oh, Simon, you’ve given me an impossible task. Hiring servants and finding husbands and now men who shouldn’t be in the house...” She stood. “Send the men to the stable. And send your criminal there, as well. We can’t have this. Oh, no, we can’t have this at all.”

“All right. The Foleys can have the stable for the night. We’ll make other arrangements tomorrow,” Simon responded. “However, Harold will stay in the house.”

Amy had had enough. “Excuse me, please,” Amy nodded to Simon and his aunt and turned to leave the dining room. Simon jumped up and followed her from the room. Before she had managed to take several steps, Simon reached out and grasped her arm, halting her in her tracks.

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.”