“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said.
She tried to turn her head away from the man to no avail. Mr. Owens caught a glimpse of her.
“Fresh fish tonight, milord. I hope you like haddock.”
“That will be all, Mr. Owens.”
Mr. Owens passed Banning toward the door. “Goodnight, milord.”
“I’m sorry,” Banning said after the proprietor departed.
“This is a dreadful mistake,” she said. “First Somerton and now this. I truly believe it would be best if we forget our plan and return home.”
“Avis, we cannot do that.”
As she whirled away from the window, her anger blew around with her. “Of course,” she said sarcastically. “You will tell everyone that I’m a h—h—harlot.”
“You are not a harlot,” Banning replied in a soft even tone. Slowly, he approached her. “But you are not going back on our agreement.”
He cupped her cheeks. He would have to go slow with her. Leaning in closer still, he bent his head. His lips coming nearer to hers, his breath mingling with hers, but before he could kiss her as he’d intended, she pushed away from him.
“Shall we dine?” she asked.
With a frustrated sigh, he sat down across from her. As they ate, he watched her every move and learned more about her than he’d ever known. She ate her fish with enthusiasm, barely touched the wine, and played with her peas but never ate one. Either she wasn’t used to making dinner conversation, or she was still miffed at him. Knowing she had been raised properly, he could only assume she had no desire to talk with him.
He supposed he could not blame her. Although, he yearned to know more about the sultry vixen who had no idea just how special she was.
“Tell me about your childhood,” he started.
She choked on her wine. For a second he thought he might have to pound on her back to help her.
“My childhood?”
“Yes. Did you spend it at the country estate? Did you ride horses and climb trees?”
Avis stared at the wine still lapping at the sides of her glass. She had heard stories of such idyllic pleasures. Perhaps she should lie to him and tell him how she had the perfect childhood but the words wouldn’t come out that way.
“We stayed in London while my father visited the estate during the summer. So, to answer your question, I never climbed a tree.”
“Why didn’t you and your mother accompany him?”
Because it was the only peaceful time they had. “My mother preferred London,” she replied softly.
He nodded. “I understand. My own mother has much the same inclinations. Although, she does enjoy a sojourn from the summer heat in town, now and again.”
She had to get the subject of their conversation off her childhood. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Dreadfully boring stuff, I assure you,” he said with a grin.
“I doubt that.” She smiled imagining him as a young boy. “I daresay you caused your mother nothing but heartache as a child.”
He laughed, nodding in agreement. “She was thrilled to have a little girl after me. Although I believe Jennette has most likely given her far more heartache than I ever did.”
He stood and offered her his hand. Without a thought, she accepted his assistance and they brought their wine to the more comfortable chairs by the empty fireplace. She really did want to know more about the intriguing man across from her.
“How did it feel to grow up knowing you would someday inherit the earldom?” she asked.
“Actually, I was born the second son.”
“You were? I had no idea you had an older brother. Jennette never mentioned having another brother.” She sipped her wine hoping he would continue.
Banning shrugged. “Jennette doesn’t really remember him. Geoffrey died when she was only four. Besides, unless Geoffrey impacted her shopping life it is unlikely that she would have even noticed him.”
“Banning!”
“You must admit it’s true,” he said with a lopsided grin.
And it was. Jennette shopped more than any woman Avis had ever met. Luckily, her brother spoiled her rotten and never minded her expenditures.
“Very well, it is true. So you were how old when your brother died?”
“Eleven.” He glanced over at her and smiled. “And you still want to hear all about this, don’t you?”
Avis nodded eagerly.
“My father had a first wife who bore him a son, Geoffrey. Unfortunately, it became apparent as he grew older that he was afflicted with the same weak heart his mother had succumbed to years before. Geoffrey married at twenty-one and did his best to give Father an heir.”
Banning sipped his wine before he resumed his story. “After a few years, his health deteriorated and he still had no son to inherit. My father decided he’d best marry again.”
“My goodness, he must have been getting on in age by then,” she said.
“He was well into his fifties when he met and married my mother.”
“Your mother must have been quite young.”
Banning shrugged. “Yes, but it was the typical marriage of the day. The union strengthened both families.”
“No love, just money and position,” she added.
“Yes,” he said stiffly.
Avis wondered how he really felt about his parents’ marriage and about love in general. Jennette had told her that her parents loved each other madly. She almost asked him but stopped. Personal topics such as love and marriage were not subjects they should discuss. It mattered not to her. Most men she knew believed love had nothing to do with marriage. Position, money, and land strengthened a marriage. Perhaps they did. Her mother had married for love and it certainly hadn’t made her happy.
Sometimes in the dark of night, she wondered if all marriages were as dreadful as her parents’. Or if two people could truly fall in love and stay in love for a lifetime.
She highly doubted it.
Chapter Eight
“Wake up,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, drawing Avis from her peaceful nap.
She kept her eyes closed for minute, savoring the feel of her head resting against Banning’s strong chest and the sway of the carriage. His hand gently caressed her hair. After talking most of the night away, she’d fallen asleep soon after they left in the morning. Quite a nice way to spend a day, tucked firmly in his arms.
“I know you’re awake.”
She could almost hear the smile that must be on his face. Keeping her eyes closed, she thought about his smile. He had two deep dimples and white teeth that would be perfect except for the way the bottom front teeth overlapped ever so slightly. She liked that imperfection in him. No one should be too perfect.
“Avis,” he whispered.
“Go away,” she muttered against his lapel.
He chuckled softly. She could stay here all day, in his arms with his heart beating in her ear and his hand caressing her hair.
The carriage rolled to a stop.
A stop!
They had arrived at his home, and she was still sitting on his lap. Avis scrambled to the seat across from him, quickly smoothed her hair and replaced her bonnet.
“You look perfect,” he said with a grin.
“I must look as though we’ve…”
“Not yet, but you will.”
She blasted him an angry scowl. “You are a beast.”
“I know,” he answered with a boyish grin. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and winked at her.
Banning jumped down, then reached back inside to assist her. The scent of salty air wafted by her as she stepped down and the breeze fluttered her bonnet ties. She looked at the house in front of her, surprised. It was the most beautiful cottage she had ever seen. A large green vine crept up the brick to the gray slate roof. Colorful flowers of every sort escorted guests along the stone pathway to the door.
“I expected something more in the manner of your estate in Surrey.” She had
been to his family’s formal estate once for a ball and the house was enormous.
“This is a bit smaller, I believe,” he replied with a laugh.
This house could fit into the drawing room of his Surrey home. In the distance, Avis heard the crashing of waves onto the shore. “It is beautiful.”
Banning smiled broadly. “I’m glad you like it. But you might wish to see inside before you make your final judgment.”
He walked along beside her until they reached the door. He swept the door open but before she could take a step, he bent down, picked her up and carried her over the threshold. The meaning was not lost on her.
“My lord, welcome home!” an older woman said from the far end of the hallway.
“Do you escort all your women friends through the door in such a manner?” she whispered as he placed her down in the entranceway.
“You’re the first woman I have ever brought here.”
She swallowed the rest of her condemnation.
“Mrs. Hathaway, you look prettier than ever,” Banning said to the portly, gray-haired woman.
“My, my, you have finally brought us your bride.” The woman clapped her hands together, releasing a cloud of flour dust. “I always knew you would find a woman to love.”
Oh my indeed, Avis thought. “I’m not—”
“Of course you’re ready to be introduced, darling,” Banning said, pulling her close to his side. “Mrs. Hathaway understands that you have been in a carriage most of the day.”
“Of course, my lady,” Mrs. Hathaway said. “You must be exhausted after such a ride.”
“Just play along,” he whispered in her ear.
“Lady Selby,” Mrs. Hathaway curtsied, “it is a pleasure to serve you.”
Anger at Banning threatened to overflow, but Avis had been drilled in proper etiquette since she was able to talk. “Thank you, Mrs. Hathaway.”
“My lord, you stated in your note that you and your bride wanted privacy. So I will bake your favorite items for breakfast tomorrow. I will leave them in the dining room so you may eat at anytime you wish,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “Of course I will knock discreetly before I enter the house. Now that you are here, I shall set out your supper and have Harry bring up a bath. You two must be dreadfully hungry.”
“Perfect,” Banning replied. “Please set the table in the dining room while I show my bride around.”
He gripped Avis’s elbow and turned her toward a room awash with soft greens. “This is the drawing room, darling. Let me show you to our room so you can change before dinner.”
He led her up the stairs to one of two bedrooms. “Not a word until she leaves us in peace. Once she’s gone you can rail at me until you’re blue in the face, but I won’t have you embarrass yourself in front of her.”
Avis ripped her arm out of his steely grip. “Very well. But once she leaves, I have a few words for you.”
“I’m certain you have.” Banning grimaced. He studied her from head to toe. “Change into something less severe for dinner.”
Less severe? Oh, she’d show him less severe. She had brought only a few dresses with her, including the emerald silk he seemed to like so much. But this called for something drastic. She waited for him to leave before pulling out her long-sleeved brown muslin and grinned—perfect.
She glanced out the open window while she waited for Mr. Hathaway to bring the bath water upstairs. The air here was so clean, unlike London. Once the heat hit town, the vile smells became most unbearable.
“My lady, I have your bath for you.”
Avis opened the door to find an older man who appeared to be well into his sixties, but still fit and trim. “Mr. Hathaway?”
“That’d be me,” he said as he hoisted the copper tub from his shoulder to the floor. “The water will be up in a moment.”
“Thank you.”
As Mr. Hathaway brought buckets of water up to her room, Avis looked over at the dress lying on the bed. It truly was a dreadful thing. She normally wore the dress for writing since it had more ink stains than she could count. She twisted her lips. No, she would prove to him that she wasn’t the type of woman who would bow to his every demand.
“All ready, my lady,” Mr. Hathaway said, then quietly closed the door behind him.
The tub looked positively delightful. She added her jasmine-scented oil then removed her traveling clothes and hung them back up to air. Easing her body into the warm water, a long sigh escaped her. Even though she wasn’t the least bit tired after sleeping most of the way here, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tub.
She couldn’t believe she was here, at Banning’s cottage, naked in a tub of water where he could burst into the room at any moment. She didn’t take risks. And she wasn’t an impulsive person. She normally thought everything through with an eye for details. Yet, something about him brought out an imprudent streak in her that she never knew she had, and if she had to be honest with herself, she was starting to enjoy it.
She savored the way her body heated when he looked at her with desire in his eyes and how moisture pooled between her legs when he kissed her. She loved the way his blue eyes sparkled when he laughed. This peculiar attraction to him had intrigued her for years.
“Any warm water left?” he called to her from the hallway.
“Yes.” If you want to smell like flowers, she thought with a smile. “Just give me a moment to finish in here.”
After getting out of the tub, she added a bit more of the scented oil to the bath. She released her hair from all its pins, brushed the curly mess and pulled it into a tight chignon. She dressed in her ugly brown dress and placed a lace fichu around her neck.
A quick glance in the mirror told her the image was exactly what Banning Talbot deserved.
Avis strolled downstairs and peeked into the drawing room where Banning sat, reading a book. She rushed past the room. “I am finished with the water. Enjoy your bath. I must help Mrs. Hathaway in the kitchen.”
She stopped around the corner of the kitchen and waited. The book landed on the table with a thud and heavy footsteps slowly made their way up the stairs. Her shoulders lifted with a suppressed giggle. When he returned he would smell as sweet as a June day.
Mrs. Hathaway placed steaming platters and bowls on the table. Avis had offered to help, but the caretaker told her to rest in the drawing room.
“I’m all finished here, my lady. Everything you need is on the table. Just leave the dishes, and I’ll see to them in the morning.”
“Goodnight, then,” Avis said, walking back into the dining room to stare at the feast. Her stomach rumbled in complaint of the delay. She turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.
“What the devil are you wearing?” he asked with a laugh as he entered the room.
She could not believe the gall of this man. “Would you please stop laughing at me?”
“Hmm, I seem to remember telling you to wear something less severe and yet here you stand looking as if you were going to meet your maker, not your lover.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Now what should I do about a disobedient wife?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I—I…” her voice trailed off as he stepped closer to her.
A disobedient wife.
She’d heard those words so many times growing up, right before her mother would receive a slap to her face. Why hadn’t she thought about his possible reaction? She was no fool. She knew the nature of men.
Menacingly, Banning backed her against the table.
“W—What are you doing?” she stammered.
He only gave her a slow smile that made her heart skip a beat. Oh dear Lord, what was he doing? White-hot panic sliced through her, paralyzing her movements. Was this how her mother felt before Father struck a blow?
She’d promised herself all her life that no man would ever harm her. Fighting her alarm, she stared back at him. She could have sworn that she saw a glint of humor in his eyes.
He placed his hands on the chairs beside her, effectively blocking her exit. Panic threatened to turn to anger. She couldn’t let her fury get the best of her. She wouldn’t do something mad.
He yanked the fichu off her neck. The lace landed with a swish across the room. He reached for the pins holding her hair in place. One by one, they hit the table and floor with a tinkling sound. He caressed her head as her hair fell from its tight confines.
Avis refused to move. Not a muscle. “How dare you!” she finally found her voice. “You are a libertine, a rake, a scoundrel, a defiler of innocent wom—”
He cut her off with a heated kiss. Her mind spun with passion and anger, but rage won. She would show him that Avis Copley was not like her mother.
She pressed her body closer to him, feeling the hard length of his arousal. Forcing herself not to fall victim to his kisses, she concentrated on his every movement. Blast! He was supposed to smell sweet with the heavy aroma of jasmine. Instead, the scent of his spicy soap had mixed with the floral, giving off an intoxicating fragrance.
His lips trailed a hot path down her throat until he found her erratic pulse. She reached behind her and grabbed the first thing she found. Her fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle of a sharp knife.
All she had to do was bring it up to his neck. She wouldn’t actually hurt him.
Avis swallowed. No, she told herself.
Put the knife down.
Banning would never hurt her.
But he’d blackmailed her. He’d kissed her on a wager. Who could say what he might do if he felt justified? She wouldn’t let him hurt her.
Her grip on the knife tightened.
But nothing happened. She couldn’t bring her hand up to his neck. And his kisses were intoxicating her with their wicked sweetness, lowering her resistance to him. Deep in her heart, she knew the truth.
He wouldn’t hurt her.
And more importantly, she wouldn’t hurt him.
Banning slid his lips farther down her slender neck. Need shot through him until he knew he had to have her now. He’d expected her to struggle against him, show some sign of resistance, but she hadn’t. Instead, she melted into him, clung to him, returning his kisses with passion and desire.
Christie Kelley Page 7
