Simon's Brides (9 page)

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 noise, 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.”

She glared at him. She didn’t like it, but what he said made sense. If he got caught, then both Simon and Beth could be in worse trouble. Finally, she nodded her head.

“Come on, let me help you up,” he grabbed her around the waist. As his scent surrounded her, she dragged in air and prayed he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her.

“All right?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper.

She nodded as she wiggled into position.

“Try to keep that beast quiet. Talk softly if he starts to blow. And if I yell, you get out of here.”

Six

Amy watched as Simon grabbed the reins of his horse and started forward, his hand on the muzzle of his horse. She sat atop her mount, clutching Beth’s sewing bag to her chest.

In minutes, the sounds of the woods closed in around her. The chirping of the birds grew much too loud. She questioned the rustle of the wind through the tree leaves. Was someone coming?

Her nerves tightened. She shifted on her mount.

He moved, stamping his feet. She groaned.

She bent forward and whispered that he should be quiet, that Beth’s life might be in danger, that Simon’s life could also be threatened. She stroked the horse’s powerful neck and tried to ignore the pang of hurt at the thought of Simon in danger.

More minutes slipped past.

The gloom of the forest pressed against her.
Where was Beth? And Simon?
Had Simon found her? Was Beth even here?
The beating of Amy’s heart drummed through her body. She glanced at the trees, fearful they held the enemy. She twitched, terrified that she’d never react fast enough if someone did approach.

She strained to hear over the sounds of her own teeth chattering. Terror shook her to her toes. She was scared to death.

Concentrate on listening for Simon,
she commanded herself.

Suddenly, branches cracked. The birds stopped their chirping. They took to the sky, their flight sending the leaves rustling overhead. Out of the trees, a horse and rider dashed toward her. She blinked.

Simon!

And Beth sat in front of him.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Simon ordered as he charged past her.

He had Beth. Amy slapped the reins against her horse’s flank and chased after him. They raced back the way they had come.

When they reached the cottage, Amy shouted, “Simon, stop. Is Beth all right? She hasn’t been hurt, has she?”

Amy started to dismount and Simon ordered, “Stay on that horse. Get back to the manor, now.”

He whirled his horse around and Amy saw Beth huddled in front of Simon her head on his chest, her eyes glazed with tears.

“I want to know about Beth,” Amy demanded. “She’s crying.”

“She’s fine,” Simon snapped. “A little frightened. Look! We must get out of here. You can question her when we get to the house.”

Amy breathed a quick prayer of thanks and glanced at her sister nestled in Simon’s arms. Then, it hit her.

Beth was in Simon’s arms. She had her head rested against his chest. He held Beth in his arms in front of him. Tightly!

Amy urged her horse toward him, “Beth can ride with me.”

“Amy, move. Now.”

She glared back.

Jealousy poured through her. She was jealous of her own sister? A sister who had just been kidnapped? Guilt boiled up inside her. She slapped the reins against the animal’s haunch urging the horse toward the house. What had Simon done to her? First strange sensations rushing through her body, dizziness, breathing difficulties and now, making her jealous of her own sister.

She dropped her head. Her father would have been ashamed of her. She’d assumed responsibility for her sisters when she promised her father she’d watch out for them.

Minutes later they rode up to the manor house. Amy sighed with relief. She slipped from her horse and rushed to Simon’s mount. She helped Beth down and dragged her into her arms.

“I was so worried about you.”

“I’m all right,” Beth said, wiping tears from her face. “I think I was scared more than anything.”

“Beth, what happened? Who took you?”

“I don’t know. He’s not from around here. He had a gruff voice. He spoke as if he didn’t have much schooling. And, he smelled bad.”

Before Amy had a chance to ask her more, Caro appeared at the doorway and behind her Dora, then Ellie.

“You found her.”

“Thank the Lord.”

The three sisters dash down the stairs and threw themselves toward Amy and Beth.

Even Agatha stood on the stoop, a relieved look on her face.

“Someone took her. Kidnapped her,” Amy told them.

Beth started to cry.

Amy put her arm around Beth’s waist and led her toward the steps.

“Let’s get her inside.”

“She needs something hot to drink,” Dora said.

“What she needs is brandy,” Ellie insisted.

“Bring her into the parlor,” Caro added.

“Please,” Beth whispered. “I’m all right.”

“You must tell us everything. I found your sewing bag, with your threads and scissors. And the trail you left.” Amy urged Beth toward the door.

“I ran out of threads. And, tea! I want a cup of tea.” Beth wiped the tears away.

Simon stood below the steps watching the scene. Beth was in good hands for the moment. He’d do his questioning later. He grabbed the reins of the two horses, aware that Aunt Agatha stood on the stoop waiting.

“Aunt Agatha, is something wrong?”

“Oh, Simon. I’m so glad you found her. Has she been hurt?”

“No, just frightened. I’ll talk to her in a few minutes. In the meantime, where’s Chester, or Clifford? I need one of them to see to the horses.”

“Simon,” his aunt stepped toward him, twisting her fingers together. Something else was wrong; he felt it.

“Yes, Aunt.” He paused.

“Now, don’t be angry,” she started.

“I’m not angry. What’s wrong?” Oh, Lord, something else had happened.

Simon looped the horses’ reins around the branch of a nearby tree and raced for the steps.

“Simon, you don’t need to run like that. He’s gone.”

“Aunt Agatha, tell me what’s going on? Now,” he shouted.

“You don’t need to shout at me.”

She looked ready to cry.

Simon took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

“Aunt Agatha?”

“Harold, that--that man in the room, he’s gone.”

“Well, damn!” Simon took a deep breath. “When?” he demanded.

“After you left with Amelia. Harold and that boy came down the stairs together. The Foley boys were helping with something out back. You had the horse so there was nothing they could do. You have to understand. They couldn’t chase after that Harold person.”

“Harold just walked away?” Simon couldn’t believe that.

“No, he didn’t walk. That David boy signaled someone down the path and a wagon pulled in front. They got in it and drove away. That was why the Foley boys couldn’t go chasing after them. You had the bay and those boys refused to ride the other carriage horse.”

Simon swore. David must have had some connection with Harold. In fact, he’d be willing to bet David’s trip into the village this morning had more to do with the kidnapping than seeing his mother.

And, now, Harold could cause more problems.

Simon groaned. First, he’d have to warn the women. The restrictions he’d have to put in place would make them furious, but there was nothing he could do about that. And, with any luck, Ben and his crew would arrive tomorrow. They could watch for suspicious individuals.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and strode toward the horses.

“Chester? Clifford?” he called.

Both young men arrived with Chester in the lead twisting his hands around his cap.

“Sorry, milord. Ain’t nothing we could do about Harold. He were gone by the time we got to the front of the house.”

“It’s all right. We’ll just have to make certain he stays miles from here. In the meantime, I want the horses stabled. Curry them, and give them fresh hay. Do we have any oats?”

Chester nodded.

“Well, give them some of those. And, after you get the horses cared for, set up a watch between the two of you. I don’t want Harold sneaking back here tonight.”

They nodded, then led horses away.

Simon watched them then turned toward the manor house. Aunt Agatha had already entered the building and he wondered if she had taken it upon herself to console Beth. He wouldn’t put it past her.

He also needed to talk with Beth. Perhaps she knew who’d taken her from the cottage, who had tied her to the chair in which he found her. That would be a help.

However, he would need to inform all five sisters that for the time being they would be restricted to the house. He groaned once again, and glanced heavenward.

“I’m going to need some help down here.”

When he entered the house, he heard the soft murmur of voices. He would talk to Beth later, after Amy and the others had calmed her. He made his way to the small back room which he had commandeered for an office.

He sank into a chair and stared at the plain whitewashed wall opposite. “Well, bloody hell,” he swore. He had questions, but with Harold gone, they would remain unanswered. Perhaps Neville’s estate manager had the information he needed. First, he had to determine the amount of debt accrued by the property.

He propped his feet on the desk and leaned back in the chair. Neville always seemed an able manager. Simon knew the property had yielded an excellent income; in fact, Neville had bragged about his earnings at the last meal they shared.

Simon sobered. No more of those dinners now that Neville had passed on. And, he’d left Simon with the task of finding husbands for his daughters. Simon needed that done as soon as possible. He couldn’t risk having Harold steal another sister from under his nose and he was certain Harold was the one responsible for Beth’s kidnapping.

He leapt from his chair and with his hands behind his back, he began to pace. He thought about the women. Of all of them, finding Caro a husband would be the most difficult. Neville claimed she had the most amazing ability with their horses. He’d have to find someone for her who also loved the four-legged beasts. But, who did he know that he could introduce to her, to the other women? Before he could answer his own question a timid knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” he ordered.

“Simon,” Aunt Agatha stuck her head around the door jamb, her lace cap slanted over her curls.

“Come in, Aunt.”

“Nephew,” she slipped into the room her hands knotted in the fabric of her gown. “I must mention something to you.”

“What is it, Aunt?”

“It’s about Mr. Bolton.”

“Not Mr. Bolton, Aunt. Just Bolton. Butlers almost always have only one name.”