Simon's Brides (19 page)

He groaned and murmured against her mouth, “Do you have any idea what are you doing to me?”

That was enough of an invitation. With his mouth open she slid her tongue over his bottom lip and into his mouth, enjoying the arousing sensations flowing through her like hot, liquid cravings. She touched his lips, felt the soft gasp that escaped his mouth and bathed her own. He would not desert her now.

And, he did not.

A tiny particle of memory pierced her thoughts. She remembered the night of the ball, the exquisite pleasure when he had touched her. The need to caress him, as he had her, swamped her. Before she could consider her actions, she yanked at his cravat and pulled his shirt free of his trousers. She slid her hands under the silk, needing to feel his flesh beneath her fingers.

His skin felt warm, no--hot, and his male scent, spice and man, almost overwhelmed her. She tore at the silk sending buttons scattering over the floor. Then she laid her head against the hot flesh, tasting him with her lips, with her tongue.

He groaned in what sounded like true agony and she jerked away.

“No, don’t stop,” he whispered as he kissed her neck.

She felt his fingers at the buttons of her bodice and she remembered the intense thrill she had experienced at his hands the night of the ball. Would he do to her again what he had then?

Her bodice fell open and he lowered her chemise. She stopped breathing, her anticipation sang through her veins. As he touched her breasts, she sighed with such pleasure she knew her legs would no longer hold her. She sagged against him. Suddenly, she was in his arms again. The softness of his bed comforted her as he stretched out beside her, his mouth on hers.

She dragged the silk from his shoulders and stroked his chest. She found the small nubs on his chest and at his gasp she realized he experienced pleasure just as she had. She arched toward him, begging for that same kind of attention.

His mouth trailed over her neck, her shoulders, the valley between her breasts.

“Oh, please,” she mouthed.

He feathered kisses over her taut skin. She wanted more, oh, so much more. And, he gave it to her, his hot mouth enclosing her nipple and drawing it into the wet cavern of his mouth.

A vague pounding sounded in the back of her head and she tensed. Pleasure deserted her and rational thought returned with a vengeance.

She recognized the sound. Someone was banging on Simon’s door. The strident voice of Agatha rang through the panel.

“Simon, are you in there? There’s more trouble. Amy’s missing. She’s not in her room.”

The door swung open and Amy gasped as Agatha and the lantern she carried cast a spear of light into the room and over the bed.

“Oh!” Agatha gasped.

Amy cringed.

“Well,” Agatha announced, “You won’t have to find a husband for Amelia after all, will you?”

Simon jumped from the bed and Amy watched as he struggled to close the front of his shirt searching for the missing buttons.
Buttons!
Oh, good Lord, her own bodice was unbuttoned and her chemise no longer covered her breasts. She grabbed at the fabric, yanking it into position.

“You are right Aunt. Amelia now has a betrothed.”

Amy stared at one and then the other. Finally, their words made sense. Agatha had just said Simon had to marry her.

“No!” Amy shouted. “I’m not going to marry anyone.”

“Don’t be foolish, my girl. You and Simon will be married as soon as Ellie returns. He can get a special license.”

“I will not marry. Simon knows that, you know that.”

“But you must,” Agatha pressed.

“No one knows you found me in Simon’s room. I won’t say anything. Simon doesn’t want marriage. He has ships to sail, a business in London. If you say nothing...”

Her words trailed off as Agatha began shaking her head.

“I woke the servants. I have your sisters looking for you. I even sent one of the servants to get one of Simon’s men. Everyone knows you were not in your room. No, I’m afraid, whether Simon wants a wife or not, he will marry you.”

“I cannot marry,” Amy protested.

Simon looked angry, but Amy couldn’t decide if he was annoyed because she wouldn’t marry him, or because he didn’t want a wife. Well, it mattered not. She had no intention of becoming a brood mare for any man.

Agatha stared at her and Amy felt her face redden.

“You must think of your sisters. Your behavior here is disgraceful. Simon, what were you thinking? Well, never mind. If you don’t marry, Amelia, you will disgrace your sisters. You have no choice.” She whirled, her white night rail flying out around her, her cap dancing on her white curls.

“Simon, you will accompany me to the study--this minute. I will give you a note to take to Bishop Worthington. It’ll cost you, but I know he’ll be happy to grant a special license.”

Amy cringed with disgust. Did this woman know everyone? Well, it wouldn’t do any good. She was not marrying Simon Warner and that was that.

Twelve

Amy fumbled with the top buttons of her bodice. She felt sick at what had just happened and she was loath to define her feelings for Simon. She had to admit the attraction she felt for him could no longer be denied. Just look at what she had allowed.

Oh, she would like to blame it on how tired she’d been, or how upset she felt over Ellie’s disappearance, even her fear of Harold Bottomsworth, but she was too honest with herself to blame either of those things. No, there was something about Simon that drew her to allow his touch, his kisses, and his pleasurable caresses.

The commotion in the hall dragged her from her thoughts.

Dora exploded into the room. “Oh, Amy,” she said, “What happened?”

“Did Simon find Ellie?” Beth asked.

“No,” Amy mumbled. “Ellie is still missing.”

“Then what are you doing in his room?” Beth asked.

Caro gave Amy a hard stare. “Well, that’s that.”

Beth turned to Caro, “What are you saying?”

“Oh, Beth,” Dora raised her hands in disgust. “Amy has been compromised. She and Simon will have to marry.”

“No!” Amy shouted at her sisters. “I will not marry. Not Simon, not anyone.”

Caro stepped to her side. “Amy, look, you have to say vows whether you like it or not. And, it won’t be too bad. Simon has a business in London and one of his sailors says he often captains one of his own ships. He was gone when Father died. Remember? He won’t be here that often. It will be tolerable.”

“You don’t understand,” Amy held out her hands in supplication. “I don’t want to marry anyone. I had planned a life here at the estate. You all can find mates, but
I don’t want one.
”

“But, Amy, if you have been compromised,” Beth whispered, “and you won’t marry, then we won’t be able to marry either.”

“That’s utter nonsense.”

Dora questioned, “How will it look? I’ll bet the vicar will cease his interest in Beth. And Simon will be hard pressed to find men for the rest of us. Maybe some rake, or someone who won’t mind having a compromised sister-in-law.”

Amy gasped. Surely, her actions wouldn’t discredit her sisters.

“Unfortunately,” Caro added, “We don’t have big dowries. Your unmarried state might make a difference. As it is, Simon has to find men not interested in what we can bring to the marriage financially. And, you get to stay here to manage the estate. That’s already difficult, but...” her voice trailed off.

Amy stared at the three of them. They were telling her she had no choice, no choice at all. She wanted to curse at her behavior this night. However, she had to be honest with herself. She had thrown herself into Simon’s arms. Why, she didn’t know, only that she had let him comfort her. She was old enough and had handled enough trials on the estate that she knew she needed no man. Yet, she wanted Simon to kiss her, to bring her the pleasure she’d experienced in the garden.

And Ellie? Her missing sister had slipped from her mind completely. How could she have allowed that to happen?

She sighed with a mixture of disgust and resignation. “I suppose I’ll have to marry him.” She tried to ignore the pleasure darting through her at her own words.

“Come on,” Caro placed her arm around Amy’s shoulder, “Let’s go to bed. I feel as though I must share some of the responsible for this debacle. After all, I did leave you alone.”

“None of this is your fault,” Amy murmured. “I should never have come into Simon’s bedroom.”

Amy sensed that Caro realized there was more to the story than Amy was admitting, but she let Caro lead her from the room. Her thoughts in turmoil, she decided Simon Warner, Baron Kirkley would soon find out that he might have a wife, but it would be a wife in name only. He would never find her in his bed, and she would never bear him a child.

She shook her head in confusion. What had happened to her? She didn’t understand how Ellie’s safety had drifted from her mind. The need to find her sister was of paramount importance. What she should have done was send Simon back out into the night to look for Ellie. Instead she had let him touch her and allowed her to bury thoughts about the curse and its effect on the women of this family.

With the exception of Patience, all the women who had lived in the house and married had died during or shortly after childbirth. Of course she had only witnessed one, but she knew about the others. Oh, yes, she knew all about the other women. Her own mother, Mildred, then Susan, Beth and Caro’s mother, and of course Carmelita. Then Irene, Catherine and even one of their servants. Patience had not died in childbirth, but she had died.

She also remembered the villagers who left the estate to have their children. Even the Foley boys had been born far from Kirkley estate. She didn’t want to believe in the curse, but what else could she blame? Even her pony, Princess, had died trying to give birth. She hated to admit to being superstitious, but what else could provide a reasonable explanation?

If she had to say vows with Simon, she knew one thing. She would never occupy his bed. He’d have to force her, and she knew him well enough now to know he would never force any woman.

Now, since she had to marry Simon, her only solution would be to avoid him. In due time, when he returned to London she could go about running the estate.

~ * ~

Simon glared at his aunt who had stalled at the top of the staircase.

“I’ll need my robe. Wait one moment.”

“Now, Aunt--”

“Wait!” she whirled around and rushed toward her room. Before Simon could gather his own thoughts, she was back, wrestling her arms into a heavy black velvet robe.

“Now,” she declared, and started down the steps, holding the robe and her night rail out before her like a ship in full sail.

“I’ll write to the Bishop and you can take my note to him first thing tomorrow.”

“Aunt, I have to find Ellie. The Bishop--”

Agatha’s abrupt stop had Simon almost running into her.

“Simon, you have men looking for Eleanor. You can spare the time to do something that must be done.”

“I promised--”

“I won’t take no for an answer. You
will
go to the Bishop tomorrow.” She glared at him. Simon knew arguing was useless.

“When you return,” she continued, “you can continue to look for Eleanor if your men haven’t found her by then. Now, come along. I’ll get that note ready.”

Simon followed her, wondering how she knew Bishop Worthington. He wasn’t going to ask. At the moment, he fought a consuming fog of guilt. He had lost control.

He waited until Agatha sanded and sealed the note and laid it on the edge of the desk.

“How long will this take?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion. “I do have to search for Eleanor.”

“The Bishop resided in the south, however, this month he is visiting my cousin-by-marriage, Claude Benson, Viscount Melton. You know the Melton estate, surely?”

Simon nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Good. If you leave at eight, you can return before ten. The estate is only in the next county. Then you’ll have time to continue the search. Tomorrow, I’ll ask the Reverend Mr. Sudsberry to officiate at your nuptials. Well actually,” she said as she gazed at the mantle clock, “today, since today is already tomorrow.”

Simon almost choked. “Tomorrow?”

“Why of course. Now you get to bed. You have much to do. First you must find that missing girl and then you and Amelia must marry.”

Simon watched his aunt flounce from the room. “Bloody hell!” he muttered. More guilt surged through him. Why hadn’t he stepped away from Amy when she had twined her arms around his neck?

Oh Lord! He had let Neville down and his business, his men. He rubbed his hand over his face. And, he had forced Amy into something she didn’t want. Lust! Somehow, he’d permitted what was below his belt to make his decisions.

Why?

He started to pace the room, his hands behind his back. He had owed Neville so much and to have betrayed him like this... Now, he would not only be the guardian of his daughter, but a husband and responsible for the estate.

Startled, he realized the thought of having the responsibility of the estate was not as repulsive as he once thought. And, he was attracted to Amy. There was some kind of chemistry going on between them, some reaction, something he wasn’t about to examine.

“Bloody hell!” He swore out loud.

He grabbed the bishop’s note from the desk. At least his aunt hadn’t insisted he leave for the Melton estate this moment. He might even get a couple of hours sleep.

~ * ~

Amy slept little that night. Simon occupied much of her thoughts. The pleasure she received from him, his kisses, his touches, his caresses replayed through her head and through her body. Time after time she struggled from her bed hoping to drive thoughts of Simon from her mind. She gazed at the stables from her window.

It was a clear night, and occasionally she’d glimpse one or two men, lanterns held high returning to the stables, then someone else would leave the stable to take up the search. Amy’s heart raced with panic as she watched the dejected return of the men. She didn’t need to hear their reports. They’d found nothing.

She forced Ellie’s situation to the forefront, but her own actions wouldn’t remain in the mental box to which she’d consigned them. She’d behaved like some common tart, throwing herself at Simon like that. It made no sense because she knew she didn’t want any kind of union with a man. Had never wanted a mate because she didn’t want to risk her life. What was there about Simon that attracted her so?

Finally, just as the sun was casting a pink glow over the east, Amy left her bed for the last time. And, Ellie had become the center of all her thoughts. She could only pray that Ellie would be found today and safe. That was all Amy wanted. She’d say vows with Simon if only Ellie could be returned to her family. What would she do if Ellie had been ravaged? No, she couldn’t let that thought gain control.

Amy frowned and wondered if she could bargain with the Lord. She’d be happy to offer almost anything to get her youngest sister back, safe.

But, there was no encouraging word about Ellie throughout the day. Before afternoon tea Simon returned from his search and called her into his office.

“Amy,” he began, “I--I need to apologize to you. About--about last night. I should never have taken you into my room.”

She felt her face warm and wondered if her face matched her dark red hair. She didn’t reply and Simon continued, “I saw Bishop Worthington this morning and I was granted a special license. We’ll be married as soon as I find Ellie.”

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?” Amy whispered.

Simon shook his head, “I’m afraid not. Aunt Agatha has already spoken to the Reverend Sudsberry. We will wed. As soon as Ellie is returned.”

“I don’t want this,” Amy twisted her hands in front of her as the words caught in her throat. Being in the same room with Simon did something to her. Once again, her breathing was affected, her heart beat faster, her blood raced through her veins.

“I know,” he replied, bowing his head. “And, you can’t know how sorry I am that you don’t have a choice. However,” he looked up, “marriage to me won’t be so bad. I’ll try not to make too many demands. And, I do have the business in London to operate.”