A Seven Year Hitch (16 page)

When his wife looked like she was about to think of an excuse to escape he said, “For God’s sake, Erica. Come and sit down. I’m not about to pounce on you.” Adding a silent ‘yet’ to the end of his sentence.

Erica perched on the edge of the unoccupied sofa but when he made no move to join her, she sat back and relaxed.

Keeping to innocuous subjects, Ross drew her into a conversation and restored the easy friendship that they had enjoyed whilst exploring the themed areas a few day before. They discussed the various paintings around the room and artwork in general, their taste in literature and favourite authors and they even touched upon architecture. As Ross described his home and outlined his plans for it, Erica kicked off her satin slippers and curled her feet up on the sofa; propping her chin in her hand as she listened.

“I’d love to see it
,” she exclaimed.

“I am going there after my visit here, so I’
d be delighted to take you then,” Ross replied casually, not wishing to upset the cordiality between them.

“Perhaps another time
,” Erica said. “Gerald will have lots to catch up on but perhaps you could invite us in the autumn. I’m sure Aunt Celia and Uncle James would enjoy it.”

“Yes, I’m sure
,” Ross muttered and then changed the subject.

“I’ve noticed you have books on farming methods and business directories in here. Are they topics that interest you?”

“No. I just think books make a room cosy and with such pretty colours, they complement the decor, don’t you think?” Erica cringed at the lameness of her reply.

“Y
ou’re such a poor liar, darling,” Ross told her and before she knew his intentions, he moved from his sofa to hers. She scrambled to unfurl her legs but before she could, he had clasped one of her feet in his hand and was caressing it with his thumb.

“I see this sofa is just as comfy to sit on but I wonder if you could assist me in an experiment.”

Erica, momentarily enthralled by the feel and sight of his thumb rubbing her bare skin did not answer straight away.

“What experiment?” she asked struggling to gather together her wits that seemed to have gone begging.

“I want to know if they retain their comfort levels when the occupants indulge in a little harmless dalliance.”

He released her foot but only so he could take
her face between his hands and leaning her back against the arm of her sofa, he kissed her deep and long.

After a wonderful morning spent in his company, Erica no longer felt inclined to resist him. She loved him and as his kiss melted her bones, her reasons for opposing their marriage dissolved too. She knew that for her no other man would compare and life without him would be grey and unbearable. Languid with desire, she was prepared to forfeit the wager and compromise her own expectations.

“Ross, I…”

“Miss Erica, forgive my interrupt
ion. I did knock,” Boodle said, then added for good measure, “And clear my throat.”

Ross finished the trail of kisses along his wife’s neck, then raised his head but otherwise did not move. Erica with Ross lying half on her, was trapped and even though she pushed against him, he refused to relinquish his position.

“What can we do for you, Boodle?” he asked pleasantly.

“Begging your pardon, My Lord, but Master Thomas has locked himself in the cellar and can’t get out. Mrs. Kavanagh sent me to fetch the spare key from Miss Erica befor
e he gets himself hurt or worse; drinks the best port.”

“Ross. Let me up!” Erica hissed at him and then said to Boodle. “The keys are in the middle left-hand drawer of my desk. If you give me a moment I’ll fetch them for you.”

Trevellyn, deriving great pleasure from his wife’s embarrassment, planted a quick kiss on her brow before leisurely standing and helping her to her still bare feet. As he did so, he addressed Boodle again.

“As you can see Lady Trevellyn and I were just testing the comfort of this sofa
.”

“Yes My Lord. And does it meet with Your Lordships’ approval?” Boodle remained stoically serious.

“Absolutely, although one feels further testing is required in order to form a proper opinion. Don’t you agree?”

“One cannot test too much, My Lord. And if I may presume to offer some advice, My Lord?”

“Certainly Boodle.”

“One must beware of the old springs in these sofas, My Lord. They are apt to seize up if used infrequently and that could be painful.”

“Did you hear that, Lady Trevellyn?” Ross turned to Erica as she walked into the lounge holding a large bunch of keys. “Boodle recommends we regularly utilize the sofas to avoid nasty accidents involving springs.”

Erica threw Boodle a look promising retribution but wisely refrained from making comment.

“I shall go and release young, Thomas before his mother learns of his latest exploit and smothers him,” she said, heading purposely for the door.

“What, out of motherly concern for his safety; that’s understandable
.”

“No. Out of a desire to kill the troublesome little monkey!” Erica replied.

“Am I to understand, My Lord that congratulations are in order?”

Boodle asked as they followed Erica down the corridor.

“No Boodle. They are not!” She answered before Ross could speak.

Both men exchanged a look before going their separate ways.

A warm glow filled Erica throughout lunch and well into the afternoon, but any opportunity for a confidential talk with Trevellyn did not materialize. She had spent days dodging his schemes to get her alone and now, perversely, when she wanted to have a private conversation, he was surrounded by people.

Trevellyn, unaware that his wife had decided to forfeit the wager, was content to allow her some space after such a promising morning. Sitting opposite her at lunch, he had noted the faint flush on her skin and had glimpsed an inner radiance whenever their eyes met, leaving him in no doubt that she was beginning to feel some deeper emotions for him. Having discovered her private retreat, he very much foresaw using it to further his seduction and the thought of making love to her on one or both of those superb sofas, made his body harden in anticipation. He fervently hoped he was close to winning the wager for he increasingly found his dreams, both sleeping and awake, weaving erotic fantasies around her delicious body. 

To distract both mind and body from his temptress, he agreed to play billiards with Gerald, Stephen and Charlie and so after lunch they adjourned to the games room for some friendly rivalry and male conversation.

They were still there sometime l
ater when Erica sought them out; ostensibly to challenge them to a game, for she prided herself on a fair amount of skill, but principally to entice Ross to accompany her on a walk.

The door opened inwards so as she stepped into the room, she was partially obscured from the occupants. Peering in she saw that all the men had removed their coats and cravats and had rolled up their shirtsleeves. She savoured the sight of her husband in this state of undress, noting the long column of his neck and his lean forearms. 

Erica became aware of their conversation.

“Millie was getting too demanding, always wanting this necklace or that set of earrings, and would throw the most
almighty tantrums over nothing,” Charlie shuddered at the memories.

“So you’re looking around for a new mistress, I assume
,” stated Gerald.

“Yes, but I don’t want another shrew, I’m looking for a girl who doesn’t get miffed when you arrive unexpectedly, or late for that matter!”

“You should find yourself a wife, Charlie,” laughed Stephen, “Much better you know.”

“There speaks a man well and truly hooked!” joked Gerald. “God forbid it happens to me too soon.”

“You need to set the ground rules at the outset,” said Trevellyn returning to Charlie’s dilemma. “Make a firm stand Charlie and show her whose keeping whom.”

“Is that what you do?” Charlie asked

“Of-course!” replied Trevellyn with a smile, “A mistress should not be bothersome.”

“Perhaps you could give me some hints on how to go about it, for I try to be
firm but they walk all over me,” said Charlie, mournfully.

“I hear you brought a gorgeous handful
back from France, Trevellyn,” mentioned Stephen. “Perhaps she’s got a sister for Charlie!”

“I hear she’s quite a stunner,” added Charlie “But I suppose she’s got a Gallic temper to match
.”

“No. Francine is as calm and sensible as you could wish and very creative!” Trevellyn replied. “She also has a brain that matches the beauty
.”

“I’m not looking for intelligence, just someone to pleasure me in bed
,” stated Charlie.

“I hear Faulkner is sniffing around her
,” Stephen informed Ross. “He might entice her away.”

“I’m not worried. She’s not…” Trevellyn bending over and lining up his next shot did not get a chance to finish his sentence.

“Erica!” Gerald called, catching sight of his sister.

Trevellyn looked up and caught the shocked and angry expression on his wife’s face just before she turned with a swish of her skirts and ran out.

“Bloody hell” swore Ross, dropping the cue and snatching up his coat.

“How long was she standing there? How much did she hear?”

The others all shook their heads in answer to his question and watched as he briskly followed in Erica’s wake.

“What was all that about?” asked Stephen

“Long story, coz,” replied Gerald

“Isn’t he planning to ask
Charlotte to be his wife?” asked Charlie perplexed.

“
Charlotte’s in love with Michael. That much I do know!” answered Stephen.

“So has he now set his sights on Erica because he doesn’t stand a chance with her!” said Charlie.

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Gerald repeated. “And I’d rather this little scene didn’t become common knowledge.”

“Mum’s the word
,” reassured Charlie while Stephen nodded.

Erica, half running, hurried outside the front door hoping to avoid everyone.

“Stupid! How could I be so stupid? Hateful man! Insufferable bastard
,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “I can’t believe I nearly succumbed to the charms of that loathsome snake!”

She was making her way towards a small woodland, situated along the drive when Ross spotted her and chased after her.

“Erica. Wait!” he called but she quickened her step shouting over her shoulder.

“Leave me alone, you odious slug.”

“No!

Go back to your mistress and enjoy her charms why don’t you?”

“Wait. Let me explain.”

“No. There’s nothing to explain.”

Having caught up with her, he grabbed her arm and swung her round to face him, keeping tight hold when she struggled to be released.

“Listen. Francine is not my mistress. We worked together in
France and are good friends, that’s all”

“I heard you talking about her!”

“If you had been listening properly you would know that at no point did I say she is my mistress!”

“You implied it
,” Erica accused him.

“Depends how you interpreted my words but I am telling you, she is not my mistress and if you had eavesdropped a little longer you would have heard me tell the others that.”

“Have you ever slept with her?” Erica sensed he was not being completely honest with her.

Trevellyn swept a hand through his hair and cursed.
“Yes I have, alright. We were posing as a married couple in Paris and for a while we shared a bed. We had only each other to rely on and to trust and we both had physical needs. She came to London to find a protector now that her work for the foreign office has ceased. It will not be me!”

“Everyone thinks she’s your mistress so she probably thinks she is too!” Erica voice was raised with hurt and anger.

“No she doesn’t. I told her I was looking to marry.”

The statement was like a red rag to Erica.

“You were already married! You slept with her and you were already married so why should that stop you now? You faithless pig!”

“I didn’t know I was married. You were nothing more than a figment of my dreams
,” Ross was beginning to lose his own temper at her unreasonableness.

But Erica’s rage was by now a blazing furnace and she was incapable of rational thought. 

“How many women have you bedded in the last seven years? How many mistresses have you had? You adulterous bastard!”

“You’re being totally ridiculous. You surely didn’t believe I’d been celibate for the last seven years, when I didn’t even know you existed.”

“You knew me long enough to force me to marry you. How convenient to then forget for the next seven years why you slept your way around Europe with every whore available!”