Simon's Brides (20 page)

“I really don’t want to talk about the--the future,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes on her hands. She wasn’t going to tell him now that she would never share his bed.

“I understand. But, we’ll make the best of it, won’t we? However, now I must spend the rest of the day looking for Ellie.”

Amy sighed. “I won’t marry you if you don’t find Ellie.”

Amy didn’t like the expression of disgust on his face. Was that because he found looking for her sister distasteful? No, that made no sense. He was a gentleman and accepted the responsibility of the women as a duty, not something repulsive. It must be that he found the prospect of marriage to her upsetting.

“Is there anything else?” she asked, wanting nothing more than to escape to her room.

“No. Only that we’ll hold the service in the parlor. Do you have any friends from the village you would like to invite?”

“No. Only my sisters.”

“Amy,” Simon’s voice carried a note of frustration. “I promised to find her. Please, give me time.”

“Is there anything else?” she repeated.

“No.”

She fled the room. There should be some way to stop this travesty, but she couldn’t think of a thing. A horrible thought occurred. The longer he took to find Ellie the more time she’d have to think of some way to get out of this situation.

Guilt surged through her. How could she even think such a thing? She wanted Ellie back home and safe. That was what was important. She would have to marry Simon, but first Ellie had to come home.

“I don’t want to think about any of this,” she muttered as she went in search of her sisters.

That night, she was much too upset to eat. She ordered a tray sent to her room. Everyone in the household retired early, every one, that is, except Simon and several of the men still looking for Ellie. Amy had no intention of staying below stairs to let Simon find her alone again. The last time she had waited for him had turned into a disaster.

Bone weary and sick at heart, she climbed into bed. With the sleeplessness she had endured the night before, she could only hope to fall asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow. However, she tossed and turned caught in thoughts of Simon, his effect on her and what she had allowed to happen.

Just when the dream began, she didn’t know, but once again the nightmare that had terrorized her as a child plagued her now.

~ * ~

Again she was six years old and her father placed her on her new pony. How she loved that animal. It belonged to her. Not something to be taken away from her, like her mother or Susan. Nor something she’d have to share with her half sisters, Bethany, Caroline and the baby Dorthea who was just learning to walk. No, that pony was hers and hers alone.

She lived again the excitement of taking carrots to her pony and the day she, her father and Carmelita decided on a proper name. The dream shifted and she sat beside Carmelita as her stepmother cried out in pain. Papa was not there, the housekeeper had gone for him, and all Amy could do was hold Carmelita’s hand and tell her everything would be all right.

But, it wasn’t all right.

In the dream her father arrived, followed by the housekeeper. He grabbed Amy and yelled at the housekeeper to take her from the room. But not before Amy saw the blood. Blood on her own skirt, a flood of dark red soaking into the linens under Carmelita. She stared again into the sad face of her father.

Then, Carmelita was gone, her babe, not big enough to live, dying with her. Amy never saw Carmelita again. Her father told her about heaven, where her mother and Susan had gone. She didn’t understand, she hadn’t wanted to understand.

But, the nightmare was not finished. Servants, long gone from the Manor, appeared before her. They spoke of the curse, that a woman who married and lived on the estate would die giving birth.

Once again the dream switched, and she was in a corner of her pony’s stall. Princess was lying on straw, moaning and straining. And, again, there was blood, so much blood. Her father found her hidden in the corner and yelled at her. He picked her up and although she kicked and screamed, he carried her away scolding her with every step.

And, once again she heard the words.
Birth, something wrong. We’ve lost her.
The words
“birth”, “something wrong” and “lost her”
had been the same words she’d heard when they carried her from Carmelita’s room.

Birth meant blood and something wrong, and as she grew older, death! She knew at six that she would never suffer through a birth. At twelve she knew she would never marry, never risk her life to have a child.

~ * ~

Amy awoke from her nightmare, her face covered with tears. “Never,” she whispered as she struggled to rise.

She didn’t bother trying to go back to sleep. The nightmare would come again, and she didn’t want to remember what happened to females, even mares, who attempted to give birth on this estate.

The property would be hers in a little more than a year, and she would stay here and care for Kirkley Manor and its inhabitants. But, even if she had to marry, had to miss the pleasure from his touch, she would stay out of his bed. She would avoid him as much as possible. She wasn’t going to die. She had too much living to do.

She dressed and made her way to the family dining room. None of her sisters had risen yet, but Simon sat at the table, his expression as gloomy as she imagined hers to be.

“Any news?” she asked.

He shook his head.

Amy asked the maid for a cup of chocolate and stared straight ahead. She didn’t want to talk and she thanked the Lord that Simon seemed unwilling to involve himself in conversation.

The clink of silver against china was the only noise in the room. Amy finished her chocolate, and even managed to consume some food spread out on the buffet.

Suddenly, Clifford Foley dashed into the room.

“Sorry, my Lord, you best come.”

“News?” Simon asked as he threw his napkin to the table.

“A horse just raced into the yard and the stable boys say it’s Eleanor’s horse.”

“Her horse?”

Both Amy and Simon asked together.

“This way,” Clifford spun around and dashed from the room. Amy rose so swiftly her chair fell to the floor.

Simon turned, “You stay here.”

“No,” she shouted and she whirled around the table and darted through the door through which Clifford had disappeared.

Simon grabbed her arm. “You must stay here. Get Caro. I need her. She can confirm that this is the horse Ellie rode. That horse may give us a hint as to where Ellie might be.”

“Caro?” Amy whispered, filled with jealousy. She reproached herself. They were only interested in bringing Ellie home. She gazed at Simon, his command making sense.

“Get Caro, then the two of you come to the stable.”

Before Simon had left the room Amy took the stairs two at a time, shouting, “Caro! Caro! Get up.”

Minutes later they rushed into the stable yard. They saw Simon leading a small bay from a pasture.

“That’s Dandy, Ellie’s mount,” Caro shouted, rushing forward.

Amy followed, picking up her skirt and racing behind Caro. It looked like Ellie’s horse to her.

“Where did he come from?” Caro asked as she stroked the animal’s nose.

“He trotted home a few minutes ago,” one of the stable boys responded.

Caro nodded and ran her hands over the animal, talking to the gelding in a soft, crooning voice.

Amy shook her head as she listened to her sister. Caro was asking the animal where it had been, but the horse couldn’t tell them anything. Amy frowned and gazed at the men surrounding them. But, all she saw were faces reflecting respect.

After examining the hooves Caro stood and brushed her hands together.

“I think I know where they took Ellie.”

“Where?” Amy asked before Simon could say a word. “And, how can you know?”

“Well,” Caro hesitated and then stooped to lift the front left leg, “See this mud. It hasn’t rained around here for a week. The only place Dandy could have picked up this mud was around the water wheel, north of the village.”

She turned to Amy, “You know the one, the wheel for the old mill. And, look here, see the chaff here in his mane and tail. I’d wager that Ellie and Dandy were taken to that mill.”

“Old mill?” Simon asked.

Amy cleared her throat. “Before the village expanded Mr. Foley and his father operated the old mill. After his father died, Mr. Foley moved away, and after their sons were born he moved back to Kirkley Estate and built a home and a new, larger mill closer to the village.”

Simon nodded and signaled his sailors. He turned to Caro, “Can you give us directions?”

“Just follow the stream north,” Caro shouted over her shoulder as she started toward the stable.

“Okay, let’s go,” Simon directed his words to the crowd gathered in the stable yard.

“Not you, Caro,” he commanded.

“I’m going,” she announced without breaking her stride.

He rushed forward and grabbed her arm. “No. I want you to stay here. We have no idea if she is even there.”

Amy started toward the stable as well. “I’ll go. Ellie might need me.”

“No,” Simon stated. “Neither one of you are going. You both stay. If Ellie is there, I’ll see that she receives the gentlest of care. Now, I’m wasting time talking. I’m going, and you both are staying.”

He glared at them and Caro placed an hand on Amy’s arm, “He’s right. There’s no way to know what’s at the old mill. We’d best wait.”

Amy wanted to disagree but she gritted her teeth and watched as the men mounted and rode away. She said a quiet prayer. She wanted Ellie back, safe and sound. Even if it meant she and Simon would have to marry immediately.

She turned and together she and Caro started back toward the house.

“It will be at least two hours before they return. Can you believe Agatha thinks we’ll stand for more dress fittings at a time like this?” Caro brushed the dirt and chaff from her skirt.

“I, for one, couldn’t stand still for the dressmaker.”

Caro nodded her head and led the way through the back door.

They had gained the back parlor when Dora rushed toward them.

“Cits,” she uttered, her voice breathless.

“What?” Amy asked.

“Two men who want to talk to Harold and they look awfully unsavory. Where’s Simon?”

“He believes he knows where Ellie might be. Her horse has returned,” Caro answered.

“I’ll see the visitors,” Amy said. “Harold is not here and hasn’t been here for weeks. That’s all they need to know.”

“Amy,” Dora frowned, “I think you better wait for Simon.”

Caro grimaced. “I don’t think Simon will be back for a couple of hours. I’ll stay with Amy.”