A Seven Year Hitch (28 page)

“About a thousand times,” she laughingly replied.

“That’s alright then
,” he said with a tender smile and withdrew again.

“Ross?”

“Yes, my love?”

“I love you!”

“I know!”

Ross closed the door and was about to remove his hand from the handle when a voice spoke from behind, startling him.

“I trust my sister is recovered after her ordeal?”

“Oh come Gerry, a pleas
ure not an ordeal, I assure you,” Ross replied

“I refer to her kidnapping,
” Gerry said trying to look stern but only managing a smirk instead.

“Oh that. Ye
s, she’s forgotten all about it,” Ross assured him.

“Good. I’m glad she’s feeling better.”

Just then a door opened along the corridor and Aunt Clara came sweeping out and trod purposefully towards them, looking suspiciously at Ross.

“Gerald. Trevellyn,” s
he greeted them and then when they didn’t move she added. “Could you gentleman move aside? I wish to see if my niece has recovered from yesterday’s dreadful happenings.”

Gerry correctly interpreted the warning look Ross shot at him.

“Ross also came to enquire after her Aunt, and so I have been in to see her and am pleased to report she is much restored. In fact, I believe she is preparing to get up and join everyone for breakfast.”

“
Glad to hear it, my dear boy,” she said “So if you could just stand aside, I would like to see her for myself!”

“But Aunt
,” Gerald began, sending an appealing glance at his brother-in-law who looked equally thrown.

Salvation came in the form of Ellie who hurried along the corridor with three footmen in tow carrying hot water. She bobbed a curtsey saying, “Miss Erica has called for a bath so if you could allow us to pass.”

“Certainly, Ellie,” said Gerry with relief. “Please tell her we’ll see her downstairs in a little while.”

Trevellyn winked conspiratorially at the maid and then offered his arm to the older woman.

“Allow me to escort you downstairs, Aunt Clara,” he said offering her his arm. She harrumphed before grudgingly accepting his offer, convinced something underhand was going on but unable to think what it could be. Ross led her towards the stairs, throwing a backward grin at Gerald, before turning his attention to his companion and enquiring whether she had slept well after the excitement of the day before.

“At my age,” she replied in a dampening tone,  “I can very well do without that kind of excitement.”

             
Breakfast was an animated affair, with everyone discussing the terrible events of the previous day and giving inquisitive children a simplified and toned down version of events. Erica could not subdue the happiness that radiated from her and her family, seeing her radiant smile frequently displayed, were reassured that she had suffered no lasting harm from her ordeal.

“I want to be kidnapped and rescued,” stated Sophie, “If it makes you look as good as Erica looks this morning. She’s positively glowing!”

“Don’t talk nonsense, dear,” admonished her father. “If you were kidnapped you would be absolutely terrified and it would no doubt turn your hair white. Remember how you reacted when accidentally locked in the attic for five minutes? You cried for a week and turned all blotchy!”

“I was only twelve and I didn’t cry for a week!” she refuted hotly while everyone laughed.

“I cannot deny though,” her father continued, “Erica is in fine looks this morning. I am glad, my dear niece, that you have come through the event unharmed. I should have killed the man with my bare hands if he had hurt you in any way.”

Sir Richard and Michael entered the breakfast room and announced that the prisoners had been collected by Bow Street Runners and were on their way back to
London to face trial.

“They must have flown to have got here so quickly!” Fiona said, amazed that they had arrived so promptly.

“I could not see any feathers, but perhaps they had hidden their wings under their coats!” Stephen told her and then had to dodge when she tried to punch him.

“They set off from
London early yesterday afternoon and arrived at Reddle Lodge late last night to be told that Harrison had gone out and not returned,” Robert told them. “Brent, who is himself a Bow Street Runner, met up with them this morning and filled them in on the events of yesterday, which is yet another criminal offence that can be added to a long list of others committed by Harrison, including treason.”

“He is not likely to escape with his life. I believe the gallows are what lie in store for him
,” Sir Richard added.

“And the enquiries into who gave him inside information? Have you discovered who w
as responsible?” asked Aunt Clara.

Sir Richard looked around at the family before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “Yes actually, it was one of the maids.
Harrison coerced her into helping by threatening her younger sister.”

Erica, having investigated his nefarious business dealings knew what he had threatened and asked anxiously, “Is the girl safe?”

“Yes,” Sir Richard reassured her. “She was locked up in the same cottage as you. Brent found her scared, but unharmed. He returned her to her family.”

“So what will you do with the maid?” asked Fiona.

“Nothing,” Gerald informed her. “ She is not very old herself and distraught over the whole affair. She has been told that if in the unlikely event something similar were to happen, then she is to tell me or Sir Richard immediately.”

Erica smiled at her brother and said, “In the same situation, we would have acted in the same way. She must not be punished for trying to protect her family.”

“There is nothing better to cheer up one’s spirits than a shopping trip,” declared Aunt Hebe determined to point everyone’s thought in a more positive direction. “I suggest a visit to Dorchester and lunch at the King’s Arms.”

“What a splendid idea! Mama, please may I buy a new bonnet?” Sophie asked.

Gerald sent for Boodle and soon arrangements were being set in motion for the impromptu outing to the County town. Amidst the general hubbub of preparation, Ross took the opportunity to ask his wife to accompany him in his curricle to which she readily agreed and so it was that less than half an hour later, they bowled down the lane at the front of a procession made up of an assortment of carriages.

“Is there any thing you wish to purchase when we reach
Dorchester?” Ross asked. “Have you set your heart on a new bonnet like Sophie or does something else take your fancy?”

“Whisper it quietly, but I am not overly fond of bonnets, or indeed, hats of any description
,” she told him, a twinkle lighting her beautiful green eyes. “You may have noticed my unfashionable freckles and scandalously tanned skin!”

“It was your frec
kles that first attracted me,” he told her, smiling down at her.

“I am afraid I have not taken much interest in clothes and fashion. My aunts make sure that every year I order new dresses in the latest mode and fabrics but I do not need an extensive wardrobe at Monksleigh or even when I pay them a visit.”

“So if not bonnets or clothes, what?”

“If you really must know it is first a
dditions and romance fiction,” she said. “I am guilty of spending a lot of money on books.”

“I noticed the books in your sitting room and remember the wide range of subjects and genres. Now I know you better I understand why there were so many business directories and books on a variety of industries.”

“And what about you? Obviously not bonnets so what will you want to buy?” she asked him.

“Today, I have something specific in mind but normally I have to admit, I have a penchant for purchasing fine wines, some for drinking obviously
and others as an investment,” he confessed.

“Is that why you opted to work for the Foreign Office in
France, so that any spare time could be assigned to the acquisition of wine?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“I don’t believe you!” she laughed.

“You wound me,
” he said mournfully, placing a hand over his heart.

The remainder of the journey passed quickly in an exchange of interests and light banter and so when the King’s Arms Hotel was reached, the couple were jovial and in perfect accord, causing a few speculative glances to be directed at them.

The main street in Dorchester was wide with shops positioned on either side of the thoroughfare and boasted several shops of good quality, selling a wide range of products to tempt the customers from fabrics to jewellery and from toys for the children to delicious confectionery for all. The town was bustling with people, some strolling leisurely whilst others were rushing to complete their business and great care had to be taken while crossing the road for a near constant stream of carts and carriages rumbled past. Erica ambled along on her husband’s arm, occasionally stopping to look at a window display but content to pass by without entering. However, upon reaching the jewellers Ross opened the door and ushered her inside.

“Why are we here?” she asked, “If I recall jewellery did not figure on either of our lists of frivolous indulgences.

“What I wish to buy is neither frivolous nor indulgent.”

They were received inside by the proprietor; a balding man in his middle years who greeted them with a jolly smile and words of welcome.
“How may I serve you on this fine day, Sir.”

“W
e are in need of a wedding ring,” Ross told him.

“May I offer my congratulations,” beamed the man while removing a set of keys from his pocket and opening a draw. He removed two trays containing an assortment of rings in various sizes and placed them on a table for them to view.

“And when is the wedding to take place?” he asked.

“Seven year
s ago,” Ross smiled at the man’s obvious surprise and added in way of an explanation. “My wife is in need of a new ring. She threw the old one at my head.”

“It was made of tin, darling,
” Erica retorted and laughed at the man’s shocked expression. “We are jesting, Sir. My old ring was lost,” she told him which was not quite the truth as she had never owned one, having been coerced into using Gerald’s signet ring at the time of the marriage.

“Ah” he said, though evidently still unsure of what to make of them.

A ring duly chosen, Ross stepped aside with the jeweller to sort out payment while Erica idly looked at the trinkets on display, but was distracted when the door opened and in stepped Michael and Charlotte.

“Hello there
,” Michael greeted her and there seemed to be awkwardness on all sides at having been caught in the jewellers.

“It’s Mama’s birthday soon and I thought I might buy her that pretty broach
that is displayed in the window,” Charlotte stammered.

“It isn’t her birthday until October
,” Erica said.

“That’s not long and besides,
I like to be well organized,” she stated and then looked suspiciously at Erica, who quickly hid her non-gloved, ringed hand behind her back. “What brings you in here?”

“Trevell
yn wished to make a purchase,” she told her.

“Oh anything interesting?”

Fortunately, Ross appeared at her side at that moment, saving her from making an answer, and together they left the shop.

“That was almost awkward
,” Erica said. “I will be glad when we have told everyone the truth and do not have to behave so secretively.”

“I too am impatient to declare to all the world that you are my wife but tomorrow will be the best time to enlighten your family and at the ball we will notify your neighbours. And then dear wife, I intend to whisk you off for a long
, overdue honeymoon.”

“I cannot wait,” she said giving his arm a gentle squeeze and then spotting the ring, glinting in the bright sunlight she pulled it off and handed it to him. “Can you look after this until we have made the announcement?”

“Of-course, sweetheart,” he said and slipped it into his pocket.

“Did you think Charlotte and Michael seemed a little strange back then?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

“I do not think we will be the only ones making an announcement over the next couple of days.”

“And does that displease you?”

“No, quite the reverse. I love them both dearly and am convinced they
will be very happy together,” she told him before provocatively adding “Michael is a much better match for her than you; at any rate!”

“I
am perfect husband material,” he laughed. “Ask my wife.”

“She’s biased in your favour, although I do believe she was at least once heard to call you a beastly, arrogant man.”

“Bastard was the word used, I seem to recall, rather than man,” he corrected her.