A Seven Year Hitch (24 page)

“So you are from
London, Mr. Harrison. Where do you reside, perhaps we have acquaintance in common.”

“Unlikely Miss. Wilmshurst,
I do not socialise overmuch,” he replied and when no further response was offered she said; “How fortunate that you have Algenon for a friend. Tell me, how did you two meet?”

“We are members of the same clubs.” He shot Hardy a warning glance but Algenon was unable to remain quiet with Erica’s expectant look of enquiry directed at him.

“Yes, not any you are likely to know, very select,” he bluffed.

“Are you referring to gaming dens?” she asked in a tone of shocked disapproval.

Hardy tugged at his shirt collar before replying, “Perfectly acceptable for gentlemen to belong to such clubs, Miss Wilmshurst, I assure you.”

“I am sure your mother would be happier to see you attend to your estate instead of gallivanting in these ‘clubs’,” she told him. “And what about you Mr. Harrison, do you have a family, or a country seat, perhaps.”

“No, I told you, I live in London.” He was beginning to get annoyed so Erica thought it prudent to draw the visit to a close.

Standing,
she addressed Algernon. “Knowing that you are staying in the area, Mr, Hardy, I expect I will no doubt to see you in church on Sunday. As you can appreciate, with having a house full of guests, I have an awful lot to organise and need to consult with my aunts who are helping to ease the burden, so I will bid you, Mrs. Hardy, Jane, Mr. Harrison, a good day. Boodle will show you out.” She moved towards the bell pull but Algenon halted her.

“One more momen
t of your time, my dear lady,” he faltered under her basilisk stare but a nervous glance at Harrison had him stumbling on. “You are holding a ball in a couple of days to which my dearest Aunt, Uncle and Cousin have been invited. Dare I hope that we too will be welcome?”

“Out of the question,” s
he answered forcefully, fixing him with a glare of pure indignation before turning to Mr. Harrison.

“I am very sorry Mr. Harrison, if Mr. Hardy led you to expect an invitation but it is a ball for family and close neighbours only, I am sure you understand!” she made it a statement that clearly indicated she would brook no argument.

Algernon spluttered, “But my dear girl, surely I warrant an invitation as a close friend, after all I have known you longer than Lord Trevellyn here or Robert Prentiss who I am led to believe has received an invite.”

“I am not your dear anything, Mr. Hardy, and would ask you to refrain from addressing or indeed
thinking of me in those terms. As for Mr. Prentiss, if he has been invited it was without my knowledge; no doubt Aunt Clara added him to the list for she did compile it. I am hopeless at that sort of thing.” And for good measure she blandly added, “She has a fondness for him, you know.”

“but…” Alge
rnon said, but was deftly cut off by Trevellyn.

“Mrs. Hardy, I look forward to furthering our acquaintance at the ball and Miss Hardy, I would be honoured if you would consent to save a dance for me?”

“Why sir, she would be delighted!” her mother answered before Jane could form a suitable response.

“That’s settled then. Allow me to ass
ist you ladies to your carriage,” he said all solicitous and gentlemanly, offering each an arm and leading them into the hall. Hardy and Harrison could do nothing but follow though neither was pleased. Hardy looked sulky and a little nervous whereas Harrison looked positively grim.

Boodle opened the front door and Ross accompanied the ladies to their carriage and assisted them inside before rejoining Erica at the top of the shallow steps. Together they re-entered the house and Boodle firmly closed the door. Erica led the way to her private sitting room and locked the door.

“We can talk here without interruption,” Erica told him dropping down onto the sofa. “What did you make of that?”

“He obviously has young Hardy in his clutches. The poor boy was so terrified he was prepared to break all the social niceties and brave your wrath.”

“Poor boy, my foot! He is spineless and quite repulsive, as you would agree if he had ever fawned over you,” came her spirited rejoinder. “But what about Harrison? I wonder why he wanted an invitation to the ball?”

“ Hardy’s reference to Prentiss points very much to
Harrison being aware of his participation in the investigation into his affairs. What we still do not know is whether he has any idea of your involvement. We can only assume that he does.”

“I cannot see how he would know but why else he would seek me out?” she said pensively.

“It could be that he has heard that Prentiss was your suitor and plans to use you to get to him. Either way, Erica, you are in danger and I want your promise that you will not leave the house unless accompanied by an armed man.”

“You have it. Having delved into his business dealings I have no wish to put myself in his control.”

“Good. I was worried you were going to object to my high-handed ways and tell me you can take care of yourself,” he said, sitting down beside her and drawing her into the circle of his arm.

“No. Not this time but try it in the future
at your peril,”  she smiled up at him. “ When Robert arrives this evening, we will need to warn him that Harrison is in the area.”

“I agree but I will also be sending Tom Harry to keep an eye on Harrison
.” and to her look of puzzlement “He was with me in France and now acts as my groom,” he clarified.

I suppose it’s too late to go to your room?” running her hand along his abrasive chin, Erica wondered how the rest of him would feel.

“It might create a stir if we failed to turn up for tea,” she heard resignation in his voice.  “And although I would be happy to make an announcement today; mainly so you could not change your mind if we were to have a row, it may not be wise with the Harrison situation hanging over us. We are better waiting and watching.”

Rising from the sofa, Ross held out his hand and pulled Erica to her feet.

He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, long and deep.

“Until later then, sweetheart.”

Glancing at the clock on the mantle, Erica become aware that she only had thirty minutes in which to change for dinner and be back down to receive Robert and his family in the drawing room. She hurriedly made her way to her bedroom, running the last stretch along the corridor and charging through the door, not stopping until she reached the bell-pull. As she stretched out her hand to pull it, she was grabbed from behind and a large, podgy hand was clamped over her mouth, cutting off the scream before it had even begun.

Struggling with all her might, she directed an elbow into her assailant’s stomach and took the opportunity when he loosened his grasp to break free. It was not enough however, for she had not managed to put distance between herself and her attacker before he had grabbed her skirts and tugged, pulling her off balance. She sprawled across the dressing table, knocking its contents into chaos and overturning the stool in the process. Grabbing her arm, he twisted it behind her back and pressed her face against the hard, cool surface.

“Any more tricks like that and I’ll break your arm, do you hear?” snarled a voice close to her ear.

She tried to nod but with such a tight hold on her head, she could only m
anage the slightest of movement but it was obviously sufficient, for the next moment she was hauled up and round and came face to face with Harrison. Suppressing a gasp she demanded to know what he thought he was doing and received a slap across her face. The sting of the strike, coupled with the anger and fear that mingled within her brought tears to her eyes but she refused to be cowed. Raising her chin slightly she glared haughtily at him.

“You are in no position to de
mand anything, you snooty bitch,” he barked at her. “In a moment you are going to summon your maid and tell her you have a headache and are not to be disturbed until the morning. If you try and alert her to my presence, I will take delight in slitting her throat. Do you understand?”

Erica nodded and
Harrison pulled the cord. Pushing her to the door, he opened it a crack and looked out, watching for the maid and when she appeared he withdrew a knife and held it menacingly, pointing it at Erica.

“Remember, do exactly as I told you or you’re both dead!” the hoarse whisper was more menacing than the snarl he had used before.

Holding the door slightly ajar, Erica spoke to a puzzled Ellie. “Please tell Boodle that I have a headache; it came on quite suddenly, and that I will not be down for dinner.”

“Oh Miss, shall I fetch a tisane for you?”

“No! Thank you Ellie but I’ll be fine,” she replied.

“Well, let me help you into bed, Miss. You’ll feel better once you lie down
,” Ellie persisted.

“No. I can manage. Please go and give Boodle my message and then I do not wish to be disturbed until morning.”

“Very good, Miss Erica, if you’re sure,” the maid said doubtfully before bobbing a curtsey and heading off to find Boodle.

“You are now going to write a note to your lover, arranging to meet.”
Harrison yanked her away from the door and sat her down to write, all the while keeping the knife close to her neck.

“My lover?”

“Don’t play games, Miss Wilmshurst, I know you and Prentiss are ‘close’. You are going to arrange to meet him in the derelict cottage just off the Dorchester Road.”

“How do I know you’re not going to ki
ll me when you’ve got Robert,” she asked plaintively, hoping that he continued to believe her a disdainful but vacant female.

“I only want him, not you.”

“He’ll know it’s a trap!” she mocked, hoping she wasn’t inciting his anger but desperate to give herself an advantage. “He’s far too clever to fall for that.”

“So where do you normally meet?”
Harrison snarled and pressed the knife into her neck, drawing a small bead of blood.

Erica with obvious reluctance told him.
“We meet in the Abbey ruins, but tonight he is coming to dinner here with his mother and sister.”

“All the better, there’s litt
le chance he’ll be late then,” he sneered. “Start writing. I’ll tell you what to put.  Dear Robert. Meet me. . .”

“Wait! I wouldn’t write that
,” she interrupted. “Let me compose it.”

“No tricks, mind”

“Do I have your word you will let me go? Unharmed?” she whined in a manner she hoped would convince him she was shallow and concerned only with her own safety.

“My word!” he mockingly agreed.

“Then no tricks.” Erica wrote a few lines, blotted the paper and handed it to Harrison to read.

“What’s this about haunting?” he asked suspiciously.

“Some servants once saw our lamps when we were meeting and have reported seeing ghosts,” she told him. “It has worked to our advantage because we are unlikely to be disturbed when people believe it is haunted. We always make reference to it in our notes to each other and he would think it odd if I did not do so this time.”

He stared at her for a moment and when he could detect no artifice, he nodded and handed the note back.

“Seal it!” he ordered.

Erica could not prevent her hands from trembling as she complied with his order and seeing it he laughed; a malevolent, cruel and abrasive sound that scraped along her spine and whipped up a torrent of fear. Suppressing the rising terror, Erica took a deep breath and mentally gave herself a bracing lecture on remaining calm; reminding herself of the necessity of keeping her wits about her. Intelligent and rational thinking was the only way for Robert and her to escape unharmed and to bring about the complete and utter downfall of
Harrison. Straightening her spine and determinedly raising her chin a notch, Erica stood and faced the enemy.

“What now? I assume you have a plan for evading all my relatives and staff?”

“I got in undetected, didn’t I? And for their sake, you had better hope we don’t meet any of them for I’d sooner kill them than have them raising the alarm.” A grotesque smile swept across his face as though the very thought of murdering someone gave him pleasure. Erica closed her eyes in the hope of shutting out his grinning visage but it seemed to have been burned onto her eyelids, giving her no respite.

In the entrance hall
Boodle sounded the gong, alerting everyone that the time had arrived for everyone to assemble in the drawing room. there was a flurry of activity in the corridor and much chatting as Erica’s relatives vacated their rooms and made their way downstairs. Harrison held Erica in a vice like grip and kept the knife pressed against her neck, where a trail of trickling blood ran down to spread and stain the bodice of her blue gown. When all became quiet again, Harrison still remained intent; listening for any stragglers before releasing her arm and cautiously opening the door.

“We’ve got about ten minutes before the servants start heading down for their dinner,” he muttered almost to himself as though reading from a mental list of instructions. Grabbing her arm again he shoved her into the corridor.