A Seven Year Hitch

by Mary Beeken

  “No they’re not. A princess would just get in the way and cry all the time!” he said disgustedly.

  “Not a fairy princess,” Erica joined in. “She would use her magic to help fight the dragon.”

  Just then, a real attack began on their castle as war broke out between the different castle constructors and the discussion was dropped as Thomas and Erica tried to defend their work against saboteurs.

  “Whoops, sorry!” Gerry pretended to trip and kicked their tallest tower over, before scooping Thomas up and dropping him on the rest of it, flattening it completely.

  “Looks like the dragon won this time,” laughed Erica, wiping her hands as she stood up.

  “Would you care for a stroll along the front, Erica?” Gerry asked as he tossed a squealing Thomas into the air and caught him again.

  “Yes, a walk would be lovely.”

  “Trevellyn will accompany you, I’m sure,” he told her, bending to plant a swift kiss on her cheek and laughing at her outraged expression.

  Ross nodded his thanks to Gerald, and taking her hand, led his wife to the promenade.

  “I should have guessed. And you can let go of my hand now, My Lord!” she said.

  “I like holding your hand and I thought we had agreed that you were to call me Ross.”

  “People will talk, it is far too intimate and no, you suggested it but I declined!”

  Several others were sauntering along the front but apart from nodding in greeting to those they passed, Trevellyn and Erica were left to converse without interruption. The sun glinted off the calm, azure sea and the warm but bracing breeze was a welcome relief from the heat of the day. All around were the sounds peculiar to being beside the sea on a hot summer’s day. Erica breathed in deeply; taking in the smell of the sea and savouring the invigorating freshness of the air. She was loath to disrupt the sense of well being that such a beautiful setting evinced and was therefore determined not to argue with her husband. Thus the two of them ambled along in harmony with one another.

  They had retraced their steps and were nearing The Swan when Erica spied a gentleman walking towards them, accompanied by two women.

  “Why Mrs. Prentiss and Mr. Prentiss how very nice to see you,” Erica greeted them warmly.

  “Miss Wilmshurst, likewise. Allow me to present my youngest sister, Leticia.” Mr. Prentiss made the introduction and his sister curtsied.

  “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Prentiss.”

  “My brother has told me so much about you Miss Wilmshurst,” Letty said.

  Erica felt Ross stiffen beside her and when she turned to introduce him, she noted his grim look.

  “My Lord, this is Mrs. Prentiss; her son, Mr. Robert Prentiss and Miss Leticia Prentiss. This is the Marquis of Trevellyn.”

  If Mr. Prentiss felt any hostility emanating from the Marquis, he gave no sign but greeted him with all the respect due to his title.

  “I was not expecting to see you, Mrs. Prentiss. Are you here to enjoy the sea breezes?” Erica asked.

  “We are on a visit to my Mother who lives a short drive from here but as she likes to nap in the afternoons, we thought we would take the opportunity to stroll along the seafront,” Mrs. Prentiss informed her.

  “And you, Miss Wilmshurst, are you here with family?” Mr. Prentiss asked with a significant look at Ross.

  “Yes, on mass,” laughed Erica. “I am surprised you have not bumped into any of them. It is our annual family get together and this year everyone has come to Monksleigh Abbey. We are about to all meet up at The Swan for refreshments, I would be honoured if you could see your way to joining us.”

  “We would not want to impose,” replied Mrs. Prentiss but was reassured by Erica.

  “Not at all. You are friends with so many of my aunts and uncles that I would be incurring their wrath if I did not bring you along. Please say you’ll come.”

  “Put like that, how could we refuse? I would hate to put you into the bad books of your family. It would be lovely to catch up with all the news,” Mrs. Prentiss graciously accepted.

  Together they made their way back to The Swan, but although Erica tried to free her hand, Ross refused to release her, preferring to keep her by his side. He offered his other arm to Miss Prentiss leaving Robert to accompany his mother. The dark looks Erica bestowed upon him were ignored as Trevellyn asserted himself to setting his other companion at ease, drawing her out by instigating a conversation of her home and family. Having spent the best part of seven years on enemy territory, he knew the advantages to be had in finding out as much as possible about one’s adversaries and Miss Prentiss; blossoming from the attentions of such a handsome gentleman, obligingly provided detailed information.

  A boisterous gathering was already in progress when they were shown into the private room set aside for the family’s use and it took a moment to become accustomed to the sudden noise that assailed their ears. The Prentiss family, well known and liked by the Wilmshurst clan, were immediately swept up into the general banter and Erica, using the excuse of needing to tidy her hair, escaped into the ladies retiring room where she removed the note from her pocket and hurriedly scanned its content.

  Trevellyn circled the room and was soon caught up in a discussion about sailing and the merits of keeping one’s own yacht, an ambition held by Gerald now he was settled permanently at Monksleigh.

  “I’d be grateful if you did not mention it to Erica though,” he said to Trevellyn. “Given our parents met their untimely end in a boating accident, she is against me keeping a yacht. When Uncle Richard arranged sailing lessons for Michael and me during our youth, she refused to speak to him for a whole month!”

  “You have my word. I have no wish to sink even lower in her esteem, and she would find some way to twist it into being my fault, believe me. But sooner or later you are going to have to own up!” the Marquis replied.

  “I am hoping she will be so busy with married life and a husband to fuss over that she will not have time to object to my activities,” Gerald said.

  “But Erica isn’t married!” stated Charlie, puzzled.

  “Not yet maybe, but that’s not to say she won’t be soon,” said her brother casting a look at Trevellyn. “I am sure there is some courageous soul prepared to take her on!”

  “Is Erica looking for a husband?” Robert Prentiss asked, having caught the tail end of the conversation as he’d approached. Trevellyn looked grim and Gerald thought it prudent to remain quiet but Charlie had no such qualms.

  “Erica isn’t but Gerry’s keen to find her one so that he can go ahead with his plans of purchasing a yacht. What about you, Prentiss, are you brave enough to fix your interest with her?”

  Trevellyn growled.

  “Erica is a bright and attractive woman. I would happily seek her hand in marriage,” Prentiss replied with a glimmer of a smile.

  Trevellyn growled louder.

  “I’m sorry, My Lord, did you say something?” Prentiss asked.

  “Frog in my throat,” Trevellyn ground out and Gerald laughed as he clapped him on the back.

  “Of-course, I have known her for several years now and we have become good friends,” Prentiss added. “And you, My Lord, I cannot recall her having mentioned you so I assume you are a recent acquaintance?”

  “Trevellyn was assigned to the Foreign Office and has been on active service in France,” Gerry intervened before turning to safer topics.

  Erica entering the room some ten minutes later frowned when she noticed Prentiss deep in discussion with her husband, brother and cousin. They were all animated with frequent bursts of laughter and hand gestures leading her to suppose that any animosity Ross had felt towards Robert had been laid to rest or at the very least, been allowed to lay dormant for the length of their conversation. Men, she thought, were a strange breed for she had, upon leaving them, half expected them to be at daggers drawn with the way Ross had bristled with arrogance and Robert had faintly mocked.

  Feeling it w
ould be best to avoid both gentlemen for the time being, Erica sought out her Aunt Hebe who was talking with Mrs. Prentiss and her daughter.

  “Aunt, Mrs. Prentiss,” she addressed them, “Perhaps I could take Miss. Prentiss off to introduce her to some of my cousins.”

  “That would be lovely, Miss Wilmshurst,” beamed Mrs. Prentiss. “With her only just emerging from the schoolroom, she would greatly benefit from making the acquaintance of others around her own age.”

  Taking her arm, Erica smiled at the older ladies and led the younger girl away. Leticia Prentiss was a pretty and petite girl with wheat blond ringlets and cornflower blue eyes. The likeness between her and her brother was marked but whereas she was all delicate and wraithlike, he was definitely built on more masculine lines. His eyes, more grey than blue were astute, able to penetrate and assess his fellow man no matter what defences he may hold in place. In business circles it had given him a reputation for being as cold and hard as granite, a man not to be hoodwinked or in any way crossed. His hair, a darker shade than his sister’s was burnished gold and worn in the careless elegance of the latest fashion. Glancing at him now, Erica noted he was a fraction shorter than her husband but in physique they were much the same; broad commanding shoulders, powerful torsos that tapered down to lean hips and long muscled thighs. Both men were dressed for riding; their clothes bespoke of the finest tailors and showed off their physical assets to best possible advantage and, Erica noted, had more than one of her young female cousins frequently glancing their way.

  Turning back to the girl at her side, she assured her that she would soon make friends with her young relatives and how much more comfortable it would be to already have acquaintance in London when she embarked on her first London Season.

  “My sisters have told me all about it and I must admit to being somewhat nervous as well as excited,” she admitted. “But I would feel so much more comfortable if there were people I knew with me.”

  Erica swept her along to meet Sophie and Charlotte and very soon the three girls were chatting away like old friends. Making sure Charlotte knew to introduce her to the others who made up the younger set, Erica made her way to the open windows that led onto a balcony overlooking the sea. A fleeting glance at Prentiss conveyed a message and as she had anticipated, he soon joined her. Leaning over the balcony and surveying the seascape he asked, “Did you get my note?”

  “Yes. As fortune would have it, I met Barney just after we left Monksleigh Abbey and he managed to pass it to me without anyone noticing,” Erica assured him.

  “Are you sure? Trevellyn doesn’t seem to miss much, especially where you are concerned,” Prentiss smiled knowingly at her.

  “He did seem to think I knew Barney but I denied it!” Erica, thinking back, frowned, “but he made no mention of the note so I’m pretty sure he didn’t see.”

  “He’s a wily one, Erica so be careful,” he said.

  “He may be but he will not outwit me!” she said vehemently.

  Prentiss studied her for a moment before raising the main reason for his having sought her company.

  “Things have reached critical point and I urgently need your input on one or two issues. We must meet tonight,” he told her.

  Erica grimaced but agreed. “With a houseful of guests, it is not going to be easy, but I should be free by eleven o’clock.”

  “Usual place, then,” he smiled at her before pushing himself upright and turning back towards the door just as Ross sauntered through.

  Prentiss, out of an impish urge to cause mischief, trailed a hand down Erica’s arm and said. “I see our tête-à-tête is about to end, my dearest girl and so I eagerly look forward to our next one.” And so saying he kissed her fingers, lingering over their tapered elegance. “Perhaps I should escort you back inside.”

  “No need, Prentiss,” Trevellyn’s steely tone brooked no argument. “I will see that Erica returns shortly.”

  Prentiss gave him a brief nod before throwing a lopsided grin in Erica’s direction and unhurriedly making his way indoor.

  Trevellyn took up a similar stance to his rival, leaning against the balcony and gazing out at the sea, but when Erica made a tentative move away from him he turned his gaze on her.

  “You really shouldn’t encourage him, darling. He seems a decent enough chap and it would be too bad of you to break his heart,” he spoke lightly.

  “His heart is in no danger of being broken,” she replied, leaning back so she could see his face.

  “You’re jealousy is putting you in danger though, My Lord,” she continued. “I might interpret it as a sign that you’re feelings are engaged and I could use them against you. Then it could be your heart that I break!”

  “Or what you might mistake as jealousy is just my natural dislike of having someone covet what is mine,” he answered, knowing she would take exception to his words and fire up at him.

  “I am not a possession, Trevellyn. No man including you is ever going to own me.”

  “Do you know your eyes flash with green fire when you’re angry and I would hazard a guess, that passion too will make them burn in just the same way,” he smiled at her.

  “Do not, I beg, obsess about it, for it is surely something you will never witness. I should so hate for you to go into a decline over it, My Lord,” Erica, recognising his efforts to ruffle her feathers, adopted his teasing tones.

  Ross moved fractionally so that his leg rested against the length of hers and his hand traced erotic circles on her hip, making Erica close her eyes for fear he would see the green fire of passion he had predicted. He stood up, keeping his body touching hers but, concealing his hand in the folds of her riding habit, he slipped it down and round, to continue caressing the back of her thigh and her bottom.

  “Open your eyes sweetheart,” he ordered softly but Erica shook her head, wanting to move but unable to pull away from his sensual touch.

  “Imagine my touch on your naked skin,” he whispered, “Imagine how my kisses would feel on your bare thighs. Imagine me caressing you with my lips and my tongue, tasting your nectar!”

  With shortened breath, Erica tried to stem the tide of desire that swept through her body. She could feel a moistness growing between her legs and she squeezed her thighs tightly in an effort to relieve the ache growing there.

  Ross felt her tense and guessed at its caused but before he could push his advantage, he heard her name being called.

  “Bloody hell!” he swore and moved so that a decent space was between them just as Sophie came bouncing through the door.

  “Erica, Mother says it is time we were thinking of returning to Monksleigh and she sent me to find you,” she said before adding. “Are you feeling alright, you look a bit red in the face?”

  “I am fine. It’s the sun that’s all; I never could resist exposing my face to its rays. No doubt Great Aunt Celia will rush for the essence of cucumber cream she keeps in abundance just for me,” Erica reassured her and without looking at her husband, walked with her cousin back into the hotel where her family were indeed gathering themselves together in readiness for the journey home.

  Ross remained on the balcony, reining in the passion that thrummed through his body and which would make his ride back to Monksleigh incredibly uncomfortable unless he managed to get it under control.

  He began to ponder on the hurried conversation he had heard between his wife and Prentiss and determined to be somehow present at their clandestine meeting that evening. Having tasted the innocence of Erica’s kisses, he knew without a doubt they were not lovers but was perplexed as to what relationship they did hold. There was undoubtedly a fondness between them and on Erica’s side at least, seemed to be platonic rather than a sexual attraction, but he could not determine whether Prentiss viewed it in the same light.

  Mrs. Prentiss and her family accompanied the Wilmshurst clan outside as they had also called for their carriage to be made ready.

  “So we are decided then,” Great Aunt Clara s
aid. “You are to come and dine with us tomorrow night. We shall expect you around seven-thirty.”

  Robert assisted his mother and sister into their coach before mounting his horse.

  “Until tomorrow. Good bye,” he said and with an infinitesimal wink at Erica, he followed them out of the courtyard.

  Approaching the mounting block, Erica hoped to forestall Ross from lifting her into the saddle as she had yet to regain the equilibrium of her emotions after his intimate touch on the balcony. He however, had other ideas, and before she could reach it, he had stalked up behind her and slid his hands around her waist. He kept a firm leash on his own lust as he turned her to face him and looked into her eyes.

  “The embers are still burning, my darling,” he muttered before throwing her lightly into the saddle and striding off to his own mount.

  Chapter Seven

  Creeping through her own home, hugging the shadows and peering cautiously around corners, suddenly struck Erica as being exceedingly funny and an uncontrollable urge to snigger had her holding a hand to her mouth, smothering the snorts that seemed to echo along the corridors. All her female relatives and a good number of her male ones had retired to their rooms but she could still hear the mumble of voices emanating from the billiards room.

  Of-course her mission was deadly serious and being caught would result in having to explain the unexplainable; no one would believe that inviting a young, handsome and unattached gentlemen into your private apartments late at night, was anything but immoral. She was still stifling her giggles as she crept towards the library when the sound of footsteps approaching had her darting behind an ornate cupboard conveniently located in the hallway. Pressing herself back against the wall and drawing her specially chosen, dark blue skirts around her, she prayed that no one would notice her. The desire to laugh had subsided somewhat but the hammering of her heart would, she was sure, give her away for it was so loud in her own ears that she felt deafened by it.

  “There’s a full decanter in the library,” Charlie said. “I’ll just fetch it.”