A Seven Year Hitch (20 page)

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

“Are you sure? Trevellyn doesn’t seem to miss much, esp
ecially 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. W
e 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 b
ad 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 puttin
g 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 havin
g 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 said. “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.

             
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 gentlem
en 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.”

“If you like, we can retire there now
and enjoy a nightcap in comfort,” Gerry told him. “I can always call the others to join us when their game is finished.”

“Oh no,” Charlie was adamant. “It is not often Stephen loses at billiards and to do so to Uncle William is a rare treat and one I must see.”

Erica let out a sigh, albeit a silent one, if they had decamped to the library, everything would have become incredibly complicated. She slipped into the formal reception room, reserved for receiving afternoon callers and therefore one she knew was guaranteed to be empty, and waited for Gerry and Charlie to return. She did not have long to wait and, after checking the corridor, she quickly dashed to the library and whisked inside, closing the door softly behind her.

             
Leaning her back against the wooden panels, she took a moment to steady her breathing whilst looking around to check she was alone. The only light in the room was that of the moon that filtered through the large, floor to ceiling windows that were evenly spaced along the length of one wall. The ormolu clock chiming the hour of eleven, had her hurrying to a book lined section of the wall near the fireplace and after a moment or two of fiddling, the whole section swung outward, revealing a hidden staircase at the top of which stood Robert Prentiss. The light from the lantern he held momentarily blinded Erica and she raised a hand to shield her eyes.

“You had better extinguish that. There are still people up and about
so we’re have to be careful,” she whispered to him and whilst he put out the light, she secured the bookcase, once more closing off the hidden passageway.

              Ross took a sip from his brandy balloon and savoured the rich taste of the liquid as he rolled it across his tongue before swallowing. His movement did not alert the other occupants of the room to his presence and he remained ensconced in the deep winged chair until they had departed, with the faintest whisper of noise, from the library. He then stood and languidly stretched before placing his glass down and following in their wake.

             
Their destination, he surmised would be her office situated at the far end of the house and the most direct route to it would be past the billiards room. Ross deduced that his wife would consider that a might too risky and would opt for a more circuitous route thus giving him time to reach there before them.

             
With a stealth that had outwitted many an adversary, Ross arrived in time to secrete himself behind the curtains in the sitting room before Erica and Prentiss swept in with a great sigh of relief. Closing and locking the door, Erica set about lighting some candles.

“We should be safe to talk now prov
iding we keep our voices low,” she assured Prentiss before opening the door to the study and continuing her task in there. Prentiss followed her through and within moments, they were deep in discussion.

“Benson and
Sons are pushing for an answer. They would have me believe there is another buyer in the frame but on consideration I believe them to be bluffing in the hope of pushing the price up,” Prentiss began.

“More than likely,
” Erica said, “I have studied their books and have discovered many errors that have led the company into trouble. More a case of bad management than anything.”

“I drew the same conclusions and only marvelled that they have lingered for so long.”

“Reading between the lines, I would say that under Benson senior all was well but in recent years, with the onset of age related illness his judgement has been somewhat impaired, but he refuses to relinquish full control to his son, who it must be said, lacks experience.”

“I vote that we proceed with our offer. We could bring Seaton in to turn things around and perhaps look to s
ell the company on in two years,” Prentiss said.

“I have another suggestion we could consider, but you may not like it
,” Erica said tentatively.

“If you think to turn this into another of your charity cases, think again!”
he uttered sternly.

“Not precisely, it’s just adapting things slightly but we still stand to make a p
rofit, probably a larger one,” she replied.

“Go on then, let’s hear it!” he sighed, resignedly.

“The son has potential. His father married later in life and having ensured a university education for his son; he studied Mathematics up at Oxford, he did not have time to instruct him in the ways of the business before falling ill. I suggest we offer them a retrieval package. For part share of the company, we will iron out the issues and train Benson Junior to eventually take control of his family business.”

“It is a plausible idea and having met the younger Mr. Benson, I feel he would be amenable. We would have to ensure the full retirement of his father, though, at this stage
,” Prentiss said. “What percentages did you have in mind?”

“Initially, we would own sixty to their forty until the company is back on track. I estimate that we would have recouped our investment, and made a small profit, within two years and would therefore include a clause to pass back a further twenty percent after that two-year period. We would give them an option to buy our forty percent after five years providi
ng Benson fulfils his potential,” Erica told him. “A conservative estimate of our overall profit is in the region of thirty thousand pounds.”