Simon's Brides (16 page)

“Well, my dear, it looks like you ask too late. He does seem enamored with our Bethany.”

Amy fought to still a groan. “Yes, I agree, but what kind of a man is he? I would not want Beth to marry someone unsuitable.”

Agatha reached over and patted her hand. “Don’t you worry about that, my dear. It’s Simon’s problem, not yours. Now, I must talk to Bethany. It doesn’t do for her to disappear like you did.”

Amy wanted to scream. First, Simon made her act like a wanton and now Agatha refused to answer questions for which Amy needed answers.

But, if Agatha wanted Beth, Amy could talk to the reverend. “I’ll get her for you,” Amy said. This would give her the opportunity to discourage the vicar.

“Thank you, my dear. I’ll be over there,” with that, Agatha flounced off into the direction of the older women.

Amy started for the couple. To put her plan into effect she would have to talk to the vicar alone and Beth was too timid to interrupt Agatha’s lecture.

“Beth,” Amy approached, “Aunt Agatha wants to talk to you. She’s over there, on the other side of the room. I’ll keep the Reverend company.”

Beth looked a bit nervous, but Amy leaned toward her and whispered for her ears alone, “You know I’m not interested.”

Beth looked relieved, nodded toward Amy and then looked at Robert Sudsberry, “I’ll be a moment.”

“Then, we--we can go to supper together?” the vicar asked.

Maybe not
, Amy gloated. She smiled at Beth as she started toward Agatha.

Amy took a deep breath and faced the man before her. “Tell, me, Vicar, are you interested in my sister?”

“Why, Miss--Miss Hargrove!”

Amy glared at him.

“I want to protect my sisters. I am the oldest, so it is my responsibility.”

“But I--I thought Baron Kirkley was the guardian.”

At the mention of Simon’s name, Amy gritted her teeth. Those few moments in the garden flashed before her mind’s eye and embarrassed heat flooded her. She shook her head and forced her thoughts back to Beth and the vicar.

“Are you interested in my sister?” she demanded. Her tone was harsh, but so was her embarrassment.

“I--ah, you could say that I am interested--”

“Why?” Amy interrupted.

He looked startled, then dropped his eyes, but Amy wasn’t going to relent. “I want to know.”

He cleared his throat, “I--I think we will suit.”

“Why?” Amy responded.

“I-I have permission from Bar--” he stuttered.

“I seek only my sister’s happiness,” Amy interrupted again and planted her hands on her hips, “I don’t think you can make Beth happy. You have already been married.”

“We--ah--we talked about that and--” Amy noticed his face growing red, and she felt a moment of panic. They had discussed his previous marriage. This was much more serious than she thought.

“Beth may not have expressed concern, but, I can assure you,
I
am concerned,” Amy declared. “Beth deserves someone who can love her and respect her for herself and for the sensitive person she is.”

“I respect her--ah--I--”

“But, sir,” Amy nodded toward her sister still engaged in conversation with Agatha, “Can you love her? Previously married means you might not have a whole heart to give to my sister.”

The vicar opened his mouth to answer, but Amy forged ahead, “I don’t think your real interested lies in love. No, you’re more interested in a mother for your child. Isn’t that so, sir?”

“I-I--”

He didn’t finish before Amy added with a great deal of satisfaction, “I do believe, sir, that you should stay away from my sister.”

Amy whirled around prepared to walk away. She stumbled against Beth whose face with white.

“Oh, Amy,” Beth whispered. “What have you done?”

Ten

Amy stared into Beth’s stricken face. Her eyes reflected real pain. Amy’s cheeks warmed with shame--and guilt.

“Oh, Beth. I’m so sorry. I only wanted to...” her voice trailed off. There was no excuse for what she had done. She had been graceless, impolite, unfeeling. Could her behavior with Simon have had anything to do with her actions?

She opened her mouth to explain, but Beth turned away. “Beth,” she whispered, but her sister didn’t stop. Beth would never believe Amy was only trying to save her life.

Amy glanced over her shoulder to the spot where the vicar had stood, but he, too, was gone. Amy bit her bottom lip. She had to rectify the situation. First, she had to apologize to Beth. She was certain of that, but what of the vicar? If Beth wanted him as a husband, could she see that Robert Sudsberry took a position in another parish?

There was nothing she could do about any of this tonight. Perhaps she could find an excuse to leave the party. She knew she had to avoid the dance floor and spend time with Agatha and her friends. After all, since she intended to remain a spinster this would be her lot in life, sitting against the wall and watching young people entertaining themselves.

She took her place amid the older women , but their chatter did not hold her interest. Her thoughts kept sliding back to Simon and her wanton behavior in the garden. No matter how often she instructed herself to forget what happened, she could not erase the pleasure she had experienced.

“Don’t you feel well, dear,” Agatha intruded into Amy’s thoughts.

“What?” Amy jerked and felt her face warm again.

“Are you ill?” Agatha whispered.

“No, er--yes,” Amy whispered back. “I--ah--I do believe I should retire.”

“I agree.” Agatha replied. “Your face is flushed, and your breathing is irregular. You must be coming down with something. Perhaps a touch of late summer ague.”

“Perhaps,” Amy nodded.

“You should retire this minute.”

Yes, that was what she wanted to do. She stood, “Then, I’ll say goodnight. Please explain to my sisters.”

Before Agatha could suggest she tell them herself, Amy rushed toward the stairs. Once she’d gained the upper floor, and before she went to her own room, she would speak to Beth. She owed her sister an abject apology. She could only hope Beth was not too upset with her.

She tapped on Beth’s door.

“Beth?”

“Go away,” the soft voice muttered.

“Beth, it’s Amy. May I speak to you?”

There was a pause, then the handle turned and the door opened a crack.

Amy slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

“I came to tell you how sorry I am. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s--it’s all right. I know you don’t like Robert--ah--the Reverend Mister Sudsberry.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him, Beth. I--I don’t think he’s good enough for you.”

She could see Beth bristling. “I think I should be the one to decide that, don’t you?”

“Yes, you’re right, you should. That’s why I came to tell you how sorry I am. I overstepped my authority. If you feel the two of you will suit, and you don’t object to caring for his child, then, who am I to say a word?”

Beth smiled and Amy watched the smile disappear and her sister’s eyes glazed with tears. “He won’t come back.”

Amy felt her heart twist as she gazed into Beth’s somber expression. She put her arm around her sister. “If he’s interested he’ll come to see you, first chance he gets. I’ll write to him and apologize for what I said. Would that do?”

“Oh, Amy, would you?”

“Of course. It is only right that I should.” And, somehow she would see that Robert Sudsberry was given another assignment far from Kirkley Manor after he and Beth married. She took a deep breath, “Now, why don’t you splash some water on your face and go downstairs to the ball.”

Beth smiled and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’d rather just retire. They don’t need me downstairs.”

Amy started for the door, “I am sorry.”

“It’s all right. You go back to the party, now. I’ll be fine.”

Amy left Beth’s room and walked to her own chamber. She wasn’t going back to the ballroom. That would mean she might risk seeing Simon again, or worse, being interrogated by Agatha. That woman was too shrewd by half.

Amy wanted to give Simon’s aunt no opportunity to suspect that something had happened between Simon and her in the garden. In fact, Amy wanted to wipe the memory of those minutes from her own mind.

She undressed, slipped into her night rail and crawled into bed. The soft cotton fabric of the bodice brushed against her nipples. Her breath caught. Pleasure streaked through her as she remembered how Simon had kissed her. Her lips tingled and she sat up in bed. What had he done to her?

She flopped back on the mattress and sighed. Would she never be able to forget those moments in the garden?

That night was the worst night of her life. She lay awake, listening to their guests seeking their sleeping arrangements, then her sisters whispering as they made their way to their rooms. As the night lengthened, thoughts of Simon and the pleasure he’d given her kept her twisting and turning. Guilt and shame, in equal measure, crawled through her, minute after minute.

As the soft light of dawn climbed over the trees of the estate, she drifted off to sleep. A sharp tapping on her door drew her from more restless dreams.

“Yes, what is it?” she called out, flinging her arm up over her head and blinking the sand from her eyes. It seemed that she had only been asleep for minutes.

It couldn’t be much more than eight o’clock. Grimacing, she glanced at the small clock on her bedside table. She doubted she had two hours’ sleep.

“Miss Amy,” one of the upstairs maids called through the door, “His Lordship asked that you join him in his office. He says right away.”

“After I break my fast,” Amy grumbled, still not awake.

“He seemed powerful angry, he did, Miss. Best you hurry.”

Amy fought her own anger as she pried her eyes open.

“Tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

Amy rolled out of bed, stretched and groaned. What could he want with her this early in the morning? Did he intend to continue with his arguments about finding her a husband? Well, she wouldn’t know until she faced him, but, she intended to take her time. His orders to the contrary, she just might stop and have something to eat before she confronted him. After all, arguing with Simon did take a lot of energy.

He didn’t give her a chance to eat. Caro stood at the bottom of the stairs looking upset.

“He wants to see you now,” she whispered. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know,” Amy shrugged. “He’s probably furious that I--I got ill last night. He doesn’t take well to having his plans upset.” She glanced at her sister who was dressed for riding. “You go ahead and take your morning ride.”

A moment later she stood before Simon’s massive oak door, and with her heart in her throat, she tapped, bruising her knuckles.

“Come,” he shouted through the wood.

She pushed the portal and stood glaring at him. However, with him seated and scowling up at her, she felt like a contentious child, someone about to be punished for a silly infraction of a rule.

Nor did he exchange any morning pleasantries.

“What did you say to the Reverend Mister Sudsberry?”

“What?”

“I understand you had a confrontation with him and then he departed.”

She drew herself up to her full height and glowered at him. “I asked his intention toward Beth.”

Simon slammed a book down on the desk and stood.

“I already had a discussion with the vicar,” he snarled, glowering down at her. “I made a determination that the man could court your sister. And,
I
told him so.”

“I didn’t know you’d talked to him.”

“It wasn’t your place to know,” Simon sounded furious. “I’m the one responsible for finding husbands, not you. And my judgment determines who will court whom and when.”

“You should have told me,” she crossed her arms defiantly. She felt terrible about ruining her sister’s evening, but no way was she going to let Simon know she was already suffering.

“I’ve already apologized to Beth,” she snapped.

“As well you should. Now, you will send the vicar a note and apologize to him as well.”

“I will do what?” Amy stared at him.

“You will apologize to the vicar. Beth is interested in getting to know him better. He will not return until you tell him you’ve misjudged him.”

Amy considered his stern face. She’d already planned to pen a note to the vicar, but Simon didn’t need to know that. She would have to let him think she would bend to his will. At least this one time.

She swallowed her anger and her guilt. She did owe Beth that much, and she also intended to pursue the possibility of another assignment. But, she would keep that information to herself.

“All right,” she muttered. “That will make Beth happy.” Another thought struck. Suppose the vicar refused to return to court Beth? She swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned and took several steps toward the door.

“Amy, about--about last night--in the garden...”

“What about it?” she tensed. Oh, please! He didn’t intend to discuss what had happened between them?

She spun around.

He intended to do just that!

“I also owe you an apology,” Simon began. “Last night, in the garden. It--it should never have happened. I believe it would be best if after today we tried to avoid each other.”

Amy fought the warmth that seemed to invade every particle of her body. She didn’t want to think about the time she spent in his arms, about the stunning pleasure his hands and mouth had created. The whole thing had to be forgotten, dismissed, never brought to mind. It was too wicked to remember those sensations.

“It is forgotten,” she murmured, her husky voice telling them both she lied.

“Fine,” Simon snarled.

She turned and raced from the room. He had no right to remind her of the delights he had introduced her to, no right at all.

She made her way to the breakfast table. But, food was the last thing she wanted now. After a cup of chocolate, she left her sisters discussing the ball with those guests who had risen for breakfast. She slipped into the small parlor.

For more than two hours, she composed and then destroyed letter after letter to the vicar. She tried to find phrases which would explain to the vicar her concern for her sister. After all, she did have a valid point. The vicar was the man Beth was interested in, therefore, she had to find a way to say she was sorry.

Finally, Amy penned something she thought acceptable. For a moment she wondered if Simon would insist on reading her words of contrition. No, he’d insisted they avoid each other. At least now, she knew she affected him as much as he affected her. Still, nothing could come of it. She had to remember marriage meant children and children meant death.