A Seven Year Hitch (10 page)

Trevellyn watched her enter the room and felt the now familiar stir of emotion that happened whenever she was near. He watched her glance around the room, and witnessed her love for her family in the smile she bestowed upon them. His breath caught in his throat and he knew what he wanted. He would do everything in his power to have her smile at him like that. He wanted her love and nothing less would do.

“Ross Devereaux, will you pay attention,” The Duchess admonished in her sternest voice, which happened to carry around the room.

“When you call me that mother, I know I have seriously erred
,” laughed Trevellyn.

Gerald, who was in the act of replenishing his drink, spun around spilling brandy on the floor and down his clothes.

“Bloody hell!” he swore.

Sir Richard looked askance and Erica, who still remained on the threshold, snapped her head round to stare at Trevellyn in total disbelief and shock. She visibly blanched and looked to be in imminent danger of collapse.

Trevellyn was strongly aware of the instant tension that had rippled around when his mother had used his given name rather than his title.

He had not survived seven years as a spy in
France without developing certain skills including observing several events at once. He witnessed Gerald’s shocked reaction and took in Sir Richard’s sudden alertness but most of all he was honed in on the deathly white figure of Erica.

He began to
raise, intent on reaching her before she fainted, but sat again when he saw Sir Richard stride towards her. He wrapped an arm around her and talked earnestly to her in a lowered tone that only she could hear. She had not removed her gaze from his face but whatever Sir Richard was saying seemed to have some impact for she eventually nodded and allowed him to lead her out. Gerald received a nod and he too made his way towards the door.

“Language young man, there a
re ladies present you know,” Aunt Clara chastised her nephew. “And I’ve never taken you for a clumsy oaf.”

“My sincerest apologies ma’am to you and all the other ladies present. Pray forgive me
,” he smiled albeit somewhat distractedly at her and acquitted the room.

“What’s the matter with the boy?” Aunt Clara asked rhetorically. “Looks like he’s seen a ghost
.”

“So did Erica
!” observed Fiona who smelled a mystery. “She even turned as white as one!”

A speaking look to his mother
and a nod of consent returned; Trevellyn made his excuses and stood up.

“I am afraid I received too many blows to the head this afternoon in the pillow fight and find my brain quite addled. If you ladies would forgive me, I feel I am in need of some quiet time
.”

“Of-course son
,” his mother agreed. “Such a devastating blow to your pride as well as to your head. We perfectly understand so off you go.”

Quitting the drawing room, Trevellyn spied Boodle and Mrs. Kavanagh in the entrance whispering frantically to each other, but as he approached they stopped and turned towards him. He was taken aback by th
e scowl he received from Boodle; a man normally the epitome of an English butler, and the speculative gleam on the face of the housewife.

Their combined looks stirred a memory, a hazy and dreamlike memory that had flitted through his dreams and flirted with his subliminal mind for many years.

“Where’s Miss Wilmshurst?” he asked the servants and was not surprised to hear an answer devoid of information.

“She’s occupied on urgent business, My Lord
.” Boodle’s training refused to permit him to be rude to a guest, although he had desperately wanted to tell him to mind his own business.

Before Trevellyn could shake the truth out of him, he heard raised voices coming from the study.

“How could you not have recognized him, Erica?”

“I only saw him briefl
y, if you remember. You however spent a whole twenty-four hours in his company. And he was your best friend for that short time I seem to recall. So why didn’t you recognize him?”

Sir Richard was the heard to intervene.
“Children! Children! Bickering is getting us nowhere. Lets consider the positive. We are now aware of his full identity and he is here in the house. We can now proceed with terminating this intolerable situation.”

“But he’s a Marquis, damn it! We won’t be able to get rid of him that easily. With a family as prominent as his, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to keep it hushed up. It’s a fiasco!” Gerald declared. 

“It’s a pity you didn’t think about that, Gerry, when you forced me into holy matrimony with him!” Erica said hotly.

Trevellyn strode to the door saying “Boodle, make sure we are not disturbed
.”

He glanced around the room. Sir Richard was sitting behind the large desk; he was leaning his elbow on the top and was pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger. Gerald was standing before the empty fireplace while Erica herself was slumped in
leather, winged chair. He entered and closed the door softly.

Erica became aware that someone had entered the room by a sudden draft that gently ruffled her skirts. And the look on her brother’s face informed her of the newcomer’s identity.

“Lady Trevellyn, I presume?” he drawled, allowing his gaze to wander over her delectable figure, lingering on her voluptuous breasts in a manner calculated to provoke her ire.

Sir Richard looked up sharply when he heard his voice but retained his calm demeanour.

“Ah, Trevellyn. Please join us. Can we assume from your comment that you are aware and accept that you are married to Miss Wilmshurst?”

“Lady Trevellyn,
” Trevellyn corrected him and Sir Richard bowed his head, acknowledging his error. He took a seat opposite Erica in a chair identical to hers before saying, “I am more than delighted to acknowledge Erica as my legal wife, believe me,” Trevellyn announced.

“Then why the hell have you been hiding for the last seven years? Damn it, we didn’t even know yo
u were the Marquis of Trevellyn,” Gerald struggled to control his temper.

Sir Richard, with a warning look at Gerald, said,
“We would appreciate an explanation, My Lord. You married Erica and promptly disappeared. We have instigated many searches to no avail”

“In my defence, I have had obscure dreams but no real recollection of our weddin
g until that is a few moments ago when Boodle glowered at me quite menacingly, and I overheard part of your conversation. I seem to remember Boodle giving me that self same look seven years ago!”

“How could you forget such a momentous event as your
wedding that is just ridiculous?” Gerald expostulated.

“I don’t know. How could you force your only sister into marriage with a complete stranger?” Trevellyn reposted, his temper beginning to rise, more at his own failings than those of Wilmshurst’s.

“Touché,” remarked Sir Richard.

The men remained silent, which gave Erica a chance to speak.

“We shall leave the recriminations and if you wish, you can fight over them later, but now that we have found you Trevellyn we can proceed with the annulment. Another few weeks and we would have had you declared dead but, awkward and unhelpful as you are, you had to turn up like a bad penny didn’t you?  No matter though for Uncle Richard has the papers all drawn up so you can make amends immediately. All we need is your signature, My Lord.”

“And my agreement, sweetheart
,” Trevellyn replied.

“I’m sorry?” Erica was not sure she had heard him correctly.

“You need my agreement for an annulment,” he repeated; smiling at her in a way that could only be described as smug.

Erica chose to ignore his comment.

“I would suggest we ride down to your office first thing tomorrow morning Uncle Richard; but the chances are others would want to join us. So would you mind bringing them here and we can arrange for Trevellyn to sign without anyone being the wiser?”

“Yes, I believe that would be the best course of action
,” Sir Richard agreed.

“I however
do not!” Trevellyn said. “I am sorry to disappoint but as I have said, you need my agreement to an annulment and I am not disposed to give it.” 

Erica jumped up and stormed over to where Trevellyn lounged very much at his ease with one booted foot swinging over the arm of the chair.

“And I am not disposed to stay a moment longer than necessary in this farce of a marriage!”

“Alas, my very dear L
ady Trevellyn, you have no choice.” His tone though mild, had an unmistakable, impervious note to it. “But if it is any comfort to you, it will not remain a farce.”

“Surely sir, you have no wish to remain entangled in this marriage?” Sir Richard asked, determined to keep the meeting on a polite footing.

Trevellyn was deadly serious about retaining the marriage; he had come to realize that she was the only girl for him and was confident that they would find enduring love in their union, but the opportunity to provoke Erica was too strong to resist.

“On the contrary, sir. I am of an age, as my parents remind me on an almost daily basis,
to be considering matrimony and as I have no male sibling it is imperative that I beget some heirs; three or four will suffice I should think, along with some daughters of-course.”

“Then it is a brood ma
re you will be wanting, My Lord,” Erica paced across the room before coming back to stand before him, her magnificent eyes flashing anger and her chest heaving with indignation.

“As you are no doubt aware I have been looking about me for a suitable wife but it’s the devil’s own job, what with pushy mothers and t
heir insipid daughters. In fact it’s a positive battleground.”

“I have to agree with you there
,” Gerald’s sympathy was genuinely felt and when he received a dagger look from his sister he said, “What? You have no idea what it’s like. A man cannot leave his own front door without being accosted by matchmaking mamas and their simpering offspring.”

Trevellyn laughed. He was having so much fun taunting her that he could not resist pushing her a little further.

“You see, your brother understands. Why should I put myself through all that when I have a wife already? I am sure with a little effort on my part; I can train you to be a model Marchioness and to obey me in all things. I know I may have to chastise you quite frequently but I am sure, given time, I can subdue that temper of yours.” Then he added for her ears alone, “I’m sure I can think of some punishments we would both enjoy!”

Erica leaned down; placing her hands on the arms of his chair in what she hoped was a menacing manner, failing to realize that it afforded him an excellent view of her bountiful breasts through the gaping neckline of her low cut gown.

“We are not acting out ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, Trevellyn. This is serious.”

“I will not release you, Lady Trevellyn. There will be no annulment
,” Trevellyn bantering ceased and his tone brooked no argument.

She was furious
but resisting the urge to strangle him, she swung away and stormed over to the desk.

“Uncle Richard. There must be some way of proceeding without his consent
.”

Before he could answer her
however, a thought had come to her and she turned back to the Marquis.

“What about
Charlotte? You told me yourself you were about to offer for her because she would make you a perfect wife. Charlotte and I are very dissimilar and therefore it stands to reason, if she is your ideal of a perfect wife, then I most definitely am not. Beside you have raised expectations and would not want to disappoint her or her family, would you?”

Trevellyn did not answer her but turned to Gerald and Sir Richard, “Gentlemen, I would like to speak to my wife in private.”

“If she is amenable,” Sir Richard stated and after a nod from Erica he continued, “Very well, I suggest we adjourn until tomorrow morning when hopefully we can come to some sort of arrangement that will be acceptable to both parties.”

On his way out he kissed Erica and patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. Gerald followed him, squeezing Erica’s hand as he passed.

As soon as the door closed Erica turned to Trevellyn and raised her eyebrows. “Well, My Lord”

“
Charlotte is a lovely girl but you are the one I want to bed; anywhere and everywhere!”

Trevellyn silently crowed when she again leaned over his chair, affording him such an excellent view.

“So that is what this is all about; our war and that bet?”

He held up his right hand and said.
“To think this is the only weapon I need to win our war. And as to our bet, I’m afraid you have lost that too! As my wife, I am entitled to claim my conjugal rights.”

“Ha. You may claim all you want
My Lord, but don’t expect me to comply.”

Grabbing her around the waist he lifted her onto his lap and held firm. When she lashed out at him, he pinned one of her arms against his chest and held the other firmly by her side.