A Seven Year Hitch Read online

  Erica chuckled as she recalled the shocked and incredulous expression on Richard Stanier’s face as; between herself and the vicar, they had recounted the happenings of the night before. It was a testament to his iron self control that he retained his temper although he was heard on several occasions to mutter “I’ll horsewhip that boy!” and “When I get my hands on him…” It had been such a relief to hand everything over to Uncle Richard who always knew precisely what to do and would have everything sorted out as quickly as possible. And no doubt he would have done if it had not been for the fact that, upon returning to Monksleigh, they discovered that the bridegroom had left and when roused Gerald; still very much under the influence of drink, had calmly informed them that he had only met the man the day before and did not know anything about him other than his name.

  Whilst Gerald had slumped back into slumber Stanier, Beveridge and Erica had stood in stunned silence. In fact Erica distinctly remembered the Reverend moving his mouth in such a way that he resembled a fish, and Uncle Richard; who was never at a loss for words, had suddenly found himself in the novel position of being speechless. It was only after Erica herself had let out a screech that strongly resembled a tribal war cry and had launched herself at her brother in a move that would have made any wrestler proud, did the men regain any of their usual senses. It took the combined efforts of both of them to prise Erica’s fingers from around Gerald’s throat. They had restrained her at a safe distance from him whilst he had coughed and spluttered in outraged indignation; having no concept of the trouble he had caused or understanding as to why, his hitherto affectionate younger sister, seemed intent on his demise at her own hands.

  Discreet enquiries of all the local inns and around the district had produced no evidence as to where Ross had gone or even in which direction he had headed. All that remained of him was a name on the marriage certificate: Ross Devereaux.

  Gerald in a fit of remorse had completed his final term at Oxford and bought himself a commission. He had spent most of the time since then on the Continent; fighting Bonaparte, and had gained a sterling reputation as a soldier and an officer. He had made his peace with Erica, who could not help but forgive her much-loved brother. He had always allowed her to play in his games despite the age gap and she had always been close to him. But Gerald had found it more difficult to forgive himself and as such he avoided drinking in excess and always took great care to weigh up situations and consequences rather than rushing blindly on. His years in the army had fine-tuned his analytical skills so that he could assess situations efficiently and quickly; making him a valuable asset to Arthur Wellesley.

  Erica meanwhile was sent away for the final two years of her education to Miss Alum’s Academy For Young Ladies where she was taught the necessary skills needed by a young woman of her birth and breeding. Although she had enjoyed her time there and had made several good friends, Erica had been more than content to return to Monksleigh.

  Great Uncle James had taken the unusual decision in the absence of Gerald, to teach Erica all there was to know on estate management. “I’m not as young as I used to be,” he had explained to her “and someone needs to know how to go on should I suddenly push up my toes!”

  He had found her a quick learner and before long he had introduced her to his interests in the stock market and business investments at which she had excelled. As the years had passed, unbeknownst to their neighbours, Erica had progressively taken over more and more of the running of the estate and had entered some amazingly lucrative business ventures that had swelled her respectable inheritance into a disgustingly large fortune.

  In the eyes of the law of-course, the money belonged to her husband; a thought that made Erica clinch her teeth angrily in a very unladylike manner and which made her determined to annul the marriage as surreptitiously as possible, hopefully without her husband if he were still alive, ever knowing her true financial worth.

  Seven years later and the knowledge of the marriage was still only known by the Reverend and Mrs. Beveridge, Uncle Richard, Gerald and Erica herself. It had even been decided that Great Uncle James and Great Aunt Celia should be kept in ignorance as they were only likely to be stressed and agitated by it.

  Of-course this secrecy had caused problems in that Erica had been whisked off to London for her ‘come-out’ season at the age of eighteen and had received several offers of marriage from respectable young men.

  Fortunately from her point of view, she had not fallen in love and was therefore able to resist the pressure put on her from well meaning relatives to accept an offer. She knew however, that the pressure would increase if she attended a second season and that there was also a chance that she might meet someone with whom she could give her heart. It was therefore with extreme stubbornness that she refused to attend the delights of the capital, telling herself that once the annulment was secured she could allow herself the luxury of falling in love. She never dreamed that at the age of twenty-three she would still be in possession of an unknown and most definitely unwanted husband, whilst polite society were beginning to view her as past the marriageable age.

  Erica ceased her musings on the past as she reached the small, green door in the wall that was positioned for the convenience of anyone walking into the village and back: the main gates being another mile or so along the road. She walked quickly through the park but stopped when she reached the point at which she could see the house.

  Monksleigh Abbey was an impressive mansion set amidst extensive grounds and situated approximately two miles from the village of Abbeyforth in the county of Dorset. The house had been in the possession of the Wilmshurst family since the abolition of the monasteries in the reign of Henry VIII when they had been given the lands and title of Viscount for services rendered to the crown. It was rumoured among the family that an ancestress of theirs had been a favoured mistress of the monarch and that the price of her husband’s acceptance of the affair, was the land and title.

  The original building had been replaced long since and as the Wilmshursts were as concerned with comfort as they were with prestige, they had built a house that was the envy of many of their friends and neighbours because it combined a luxurious homeliness with a quiet but unmistakable grandeur. It had been built from Portland stone on symmetrical lines and, although subsequent generations had added to and extended it, they had retained the style of the original build. On a bright day the stone gleamed white; reflecting the sunlight and basking in a glow, proclaiming to all its beauty and superiority.

  It stood in beautiful landscaped grounds boasting a lake; with its own island, formal gardens complete with fountains and even a maze to delight and confuse any visitors. Further from the house stood the remains of the old abbey from which the house took its name. One ancestor had been so stirred by the tranquil and mesmerizing quality of the place that he had been inspired to create other special areas and so it was that if so inclined, one could wander through an Egyptian garden where hedges had been cut into the shape of pyramids or into a Chinese garden complete with pond, bridge, statues and summer house where wind chimes and little bells sang harmoniously. Entering what appeared to be a petite thatched cottage actually led one along a stone corridor and down some steps to emerge into a Japanese garden with strange and wonderful plants. Walking along the paths took one through little caves and over stepping stones leading from one garden to another; each different, but all holding it’s own little piece of magic.

  As Erica tripped lightly up the shallow steps to the front door, a tall young man stepped out from behind a pillar and held open his arms.

  Giving a shriek of delight, Erica launched herself into them and hugged tightly whilst saying, “You’re home early! We weren’t expecting you for another few days!”

  “I was really impressed by how quickly the paperwork for my discharge was completed; I was expecting it would be another few days at least. So instead of kicking my heels in London I thought I would surprise you all and arrive early and
unannounced. Is it a lovely surprise, sister dear or should I hot tail it back to London until the end of the week?” Gerald replied as he stood back to get a good look at her.

  “Of-course it is a lovely surprise and you must not think of going anywhere for a long time! It’s so lovely to have you home again; where you belong.”

  With mutual assent the brother and sister turned towards the door and stepped into the cool interior of the house.

  “Master Gerald! Good to have you home, my Lord.” Boodle, who took pride in being a very proper butler and normally demonstrated no emotion whatsoever, allowed himself the slightest of smiles.

  “If you could just wait in the study sir, I’ll summon all the staff to give you a welcome home as is befitting.” Bootle signalled to a footman who promptly scuttled off to ensure all staff were summoned post-haste.

  Within a relatively short time Erica accompanied Gerald as Boodle reacquainted Viscount Wilmshurst with his servants, many of whom had seen him grow up and introduced him to those who were new to Monksleigh; that is to say, anyone who had started work in the last seven years.

  “My: it’s good to be home,” expressed Gerald as the servants returned to their duties and he awaited Boodle with refreshments in the morning room. “Peace and quiet, just what I need!”

  “Oh dear,” laughed Erica, “I’m afraid peace and quiet are not on the agenda for the next two weeks, Gerald. It is our turn to host the annual family get together and everyone will be descending on us by the end of the week. Oh, and Mrs. Hardy has you in mind as a son-in-law which means that all the mothers with marriageable daughters will be finding excuses to call just as soon as they hear that you have taken up residence”

  “I’d rather face Boney any day!” he replied with a shudder.

  Chapter Two

  “Come here my darling girl and let me give you a hug. My word, I do declare you are prettier than ever and so like your dear mother, God rest her soul!” Aunt Clara clasped Erica to her ample bosom and kissed her cheek fondly, before turning her attention to Gerald.

  “My word, much as I disapproved of your decision to go into the army, I have to admit it has done you no harm. You’re a handsome devil and will be causing a stir with all the young ladies and their mammas. Have you a kiss for you old aunt?”

  Gerald picked her up in a big bear hug and kissed her soundly. “Aunt Clara, how glad I am to see you! And I do declare you are younger looking than ever. How old are you now, twenty-three, and twenty-four?”

  “Nonsensical boy!” Aunt Clara scolded but with a beaming smile that declared her delight at his words.

  “Let me show you to your room, Aunt,” Erica said as she linked arms and together they strolled towards the stairs. “I’ve put you in the rose room-well away from the nursery so you won’t be disturbed by the children and with a view over the lake.”

  “You are a good girl and I have to be honest, I could do with a lovely cup of tea and to my feet up for half an hour before I face the rabble!”

  “Then that’s what you shall have, Aunt dear. I shall have the tea sent up immediately.”

  Guests had been arriving throughout the afternoon for the two-week sojourn at Monksleigh Abbey. They were mainly family members although a few friends; close enough to be considered family, had also been invited. The tradition had begun on the marriage of Erica’s parents when they had decided to invite their parents and siblings for a house party. Everybody had enjoyed themselves so much, it had been repeated the following and every subsequent year with everyone taking it in turn to host the event. Over the years it had expanded with the arrival of children and ultimately grandchildren, but everyone made the effort to attend because it was a time for catching up with family news and to relax.

  Lots of activities were usually planned from sports competitions to picnics and from amateur dramatics to treasure hunts whereby anyone who wanted could participate regardless of age or sex.

  Perhaps the thing that made it so much better than other house parties and social events was the fact that no one had to stand on ceremony. The debutantes were not concerned with having to impress prospective husbands; the matrons did not need to chaperone their marriageable daughters and the young men did not have to avoid the traps laid by matchmaking mamas or eager young ladies. Of-course, not everyone were blood relatives and over the years some people had fallen in love, but it had happened quite naturally without any contrivance. It could be argued that in such an atmosphere the happy couple had really got to know each other before committing to a lifetime together, which was more than could be said of those who had met during the restrictions of the season.

  “How many more are we expecting?” Gerald asked Erica when she returned from seeing Aunt Clara to her room.

  “All the family members have arrived so it is just the Duke and Duchess of Penkhill and their son the Marquis of Trevellyn,” she replied, consulting her list.

  “Definitely not relations so no doubt there are good reasons as to why they received an invite?”

  “They are near neighbours and good friends of Uncle John and Aunt Lucy and so were invited when they hosted the holiday about three years ago. They were such delightful company; not at all top-lofty, and fitted in so well that they were made honorary members of the family and have been to every gathering since,” Erica explained.

  “This year they have asked if their son could be included in the invite,” she continued. “Like you, he has been in the army and I’m told has just returned from France. According to Cousin Charlie, rumour has it that he has been gathering intelligence, but I don’t know how true that is. You know how Charlie likes to exaggerate! Have you ever met him?”

  “Who? Cousin Charlie? Of-course I’ve met him!” Gerald exclaimed and laughed when his sister punched him playfully on the arm.

  “Silly,” Erica responded, “You know full well I mean Trevellyn!”

  “No, I’ve not met him but if he’s been intelligence gathering it’s hardly surprising.” He leaned closer to her and whispered “Probably a spy with a thousand different disguises!”

  “No! Really! How exciting! I know some of our female relatives will think that highly romantic…unless of-course he’s got a hunched back and a squint!”

  “Well, dear sis, it looks like we are about to find out. That sounds like a coach approaching, does it not?”

  “Let’s hope it is not Mrs. Hardy with her daughter. She knows we are hosting a house party but she is so desperate to snare you for her daughter Anne, she may well have conveniently forgotten. I trust you will not disappoint her, Gerald,” Erica could not resist teasing him.

  “You may tease all you like for I happen to know why Anne was sent so precipitately off to her Grandmother’s in Bath for a prolonged stay and I will only say it was linked to affairs of the heart!” he smugly threw over his shoulder as he made his way into the entrance hall.

  “How can you know anything? You have only been back a week!” Erica could not believe Gerald knew more about the local gossip than she did and more particularly about one of her friends.

  “Go on, tell me all”

  “Oh my lips are sealed. You would not expect me to betray a confidence now would you?” Gerald irritating replied.

  Boodle meanwhile had opened the door and Gerald was ushering her outside to greet their guests, but this did not deter Erica from having the last word. Scowling up at him she said, “You can be so vexing at times! I will find out you know, so you might as well tell me”

  “Hush now, remember you’re a lady and the hostess,” Gerald retorted.

  Erica had not quite managed to replace the scowl with her welcoming smile as she turned towards the new arrivals.

  “What has put you so out of temper, Erica? I hope it is not our tardy arrival,” was the duchess’ first laughing words as she kissed Erica on the cheek.

  “Oh no Claudia, you’re not late; it’s my infuriating brother here,” smiled Erica, returning the kiss “But of-course, you have not
yet had the pleasure. Your Graces, allow me to introduce my brother Gerald, Viscount Wilmshurst. Gerald these are their Graces, The Duke and Duchess of Penkhill”

  “Pleased to meet you, my boy,” the Duke shook Gerald’s hand and continued, “I’ve heard all about you; all of it good I hasten to add.”

  “I would know whom to blame if it were not,” Gerald replied before bowing over the Duchess’ hand and offering his arm to assist her up the shallow steps to the front door. The Duke and Erica followed behind but before they reached Boodle, they were distracted by the sounds of hoof beats approaching.

  “Ah, this will be Trevellyn, I knew he could not be far behind,” remarked the Duke and they all turned and waited as the rider dismounted and handed the reins to a hovering groom with a nod of thanks.

  ‘Definitely no hunched back,’ thought Erica as the stranger quickly ran up the steps and joined them. ‘And no squint either!’ she mentally added as she temporarily locked gazes with him as he glanced around.

  “This is our son, The Marquis of Trevellyn. Trevellyn, this is Viscount Gerald Wilmshurst and his sister Miss Erica Wilmshurst who as you must know, are our hosts for the next couple of weeks,” the duke made the introductions.

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” The Marquis had, Erica noted, a deep and sensual voice that seemed to caress her. She found herself having to make a conscious effort not to shiver with the almost physical pleasure of it as he continued, “It was most kind of you to extend the invitation to me. My parents always speak so highly of your family gatherings that I am delighted to be included in one.”