Authors: Every Night Im Yours
“I didn’t come to your literary salon to hear Billingsworth blabber on about how wonderful he thinks his new book is.”
“Then why did you attend?”
She could feel his smile against her hair. “It was the only way you would let me into your home.”
“Why should I let you into my house?”
“We still have much to discuss.”
Avis took in a long breath. “I did not believe there was anything left to discuss.”
“You’re wrong.” He wrapped his arms around her. “We have unfinished business.”
She twisted out of his arms. He acknowledged her movement with a brief nod then took a seat across from her.
“Then let us finish our business and be done.”
His lips turned up in a sardonic smile. “At your service, ma’am.”
The look he gave her was positively sensual, and it sparked her every nerve ending to life.
“Why was he here tonight?” he asked.
“He? Which
he
are we discussing?” She glanced away from him as she played with the folds of her gown.
“Billingsworth. I told you to stay away from him.”
“You are not my keeper.”
“I told you once before not to be in his company.”
“I shall keep the company of any man I choose.”
“Why would you want to be with him after what I told you?”
“He helps me with my writing,” she whispered, looking away from his prying gaze.
“Indeed?” Banning rose and picked up the pieces of her first page. “Is he the reason you believe this page is horrid?”
“It is dreadful writing.”
“It most certainly is not. And you didn’t answer my question,” he retorted.
“Yes,” Avis answered with an exasperated sigh. “Emory reread my manuscript and told me it was better but still would offend the proper ladies of society.”
Banning laughed as he shook his head.
“What are you laughing about?”
“Billingsworth is a jealous ass.”
“What?”
“If he gets you to give up writing he is essentially crushing his competition. He knows you will continue to support him until he sells enough books to be rid of his sponsor. It’s in his best interest to keep you as beholden to him for advice as he is to you for money. Why can’t you see that?” Banning placed the torn paper on top of her manuscript pile.
Avis whirled away from him. “You’re mad. Emory is a fine writer. He has nothing to be jealous of from me.”
“This has nothing to do with how well you write. It’s all about you continuing to pay his debts.”
“You’re wrong. My writing will never be good enough to be published,” she said, trying to keep a sob out of her voice.
“Your writing is beautiful.”
“He said it was too controversial and the ladies would never read it.”
“All the best writers in history were controversial.”
Avis paused. His words made no sense. Emory had nothing to be jealous of from her. She only gave him a little bit of aid until he published his next book.
“You’re wrong about Emory,” she said. “Why should I believe anything you tell me?”
“He’s lying to you, Avis. The creditors are closing in on him. If he keeps you from publishing he knows you will still want to be around writers and will continue to support him.”
Her temper flared. “He is not the liar.”
“When have I ever lied to you, Avis?”
“You told me Emory was to marry Lady Hythe. You told me I was beautiful just to get me on the terrace alone eight years ago.”
He smiled down at her. “I never lied about your beauty, Avis.”
“You kissed me on a wager? A wager!”
“I would have done anything for that kiss,” he whispered.
His warm breath caressed her ear, teasing her with its softness and reminding her of the time they had shared at the cottage. She had to get him to leave before she did something completely rash such as kissing him.
“I think you should leave now,” she said.
She grabbed for the desk behind her as his lips came closer to her neck. A hot shudder swept over her body. She couldn’t let him kiss her again. She pushed herself away from his tempting heat and glared at him.
He took in her mutinous expression. “Perhaps I should leave after all.” He grabbed his coat and hat from the chair and turned toward the door. “Stay away from Billingsworth.”
“Tell me, Selby. Does everyone do your bidding without argument?”
“Yes.” He reached the threshold of the study and glanced back at her.
She cocked her head. “One more thing before you leave. You said we still have unfinished business. What did you mean by that?”
He lifted his head slowly and smiled seductively at her. Staring at her, he strode toward her until they were inches apart. Dear Lord, he was going to kiss her. She couldn’t let that happen. He brought his lips closer to hers until they were only a breath apart.
“I just thought you should know that my proposal still stands,” he whispered.
He left before she could give him a proper set down for his presumptuous comment. She had to get him out of her mind, not that he made it easy. Every time she saw him, she returned in her memories, back to her time alone with him. She pushed those traitorous thoughts aside. She had to be strong. She could never marry.
Banning left Avis’s study in a foul mood. The brief contact with Avis had irritated him because all he’d wanted to do was draw her into his arms and kiss her again. As soon as she’d entered the room, her essence surrounded him, feeding on his desire for her. He shouldn’t kiss her anytime soon. He had to let her come to him, although staying away from her would be near to impossible.
As he walked toward his bedroom, he heard his mother’s voice. “Banning? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Please come into my room.”
His mother sat in her salon working on a floral embroidery piece. She glanced up as he entered the room. “How was your evening?”
“Dreadful,” he answered.
“Oh, then it quite possibly is about to get worse.” She straightened in her seat. “You have a slight problem, my son.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. You were seen leaving the Halstead Inn.”
“What is so unusual about that?”
“With a woman.”
Dear God, she knew. “Mother, I believe I am old enough to do what I wish with my time.”
“Indeed. You should be thankful that I am informing you and you’re not hearing this whispered behind some gossipmonger’s fan. No one knows who the woman was, but the current speculation is that she is a lady and not a lightskirt.”
“So no one saw her face?”
She tossed her embroidery, hoop and all, at him. “No. But I will not have our name bantered about by the gossips. Make sure no one discovers this girl’s name.”
She rose from her seat and blasted an icy blue glare at him. She reminded him of Jennette when he’d teased her to the point of anger. Only he could cajole Jennette out of her ill humor. He knew his mother would not.
“Best make certain
I
do not discover who she is or you will be married before you can snap your fingers.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She pointed toward the door. “Be off now.”
Nothing like a good chiding by your own mother to end a perfect day,
he thought sarcastically. He glanced down at his watch. Even though it was only eleven, he’d had enough of this day. He slammed the door to his bedroom suite and headed for the brandy.
He wanted to forget the past month. As if that would ever happen.
“Avis, are you even listening to me?”
Avis blinked and returned her concentration on Emory. He sat across from her in the carriage while Bridget sat next to her. While her maid wasn’t the perfect chaperone, Avis hadn’t any other choices. All her friends had begged off, even Sophie.
“I must apologize, Emory. My mind drifted away from me.”
He smiled at her. But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was telling you all about the prince’s comments.”
Of course he was. And normally, she would have been listening with great interest to him. Instead, her mind kept wandering off and thinking how much more interesting this carriage ride would be if Banning sat across from her. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She had to stop thinking about him. That part of her life was over.
Concentrate on Emory,
she scolded herself.
“And then he said it was a most agreeable story,” Emory said.
Emory was the perfect gentleman. After their time alone in the study last evening, she feared he might have developed an attraction to her. While only a few weeks past, she would have welcomed his attention, now she wanted no part of it.
“Avis,” Emory exclaimed. “I really don’t believe you are hearing a word I’ve said today.”
“I am dreadfully sorry, Emory. You have been a perfect companion and yet my mind keeps wandering off.”
He reached over and clasped her gloved hands. “Whatever is the matter?”
Avis closed her eyes and squeezed his hands. “I’ve just been worrying about Elizabeth.”
“It will take time but she will get over her father’s death. At least she has her sisters.”
“You’re right, of course.”
Emory was a wonderful man. How could she have believed Banning’s ranting about Emory hurting that prostitute? Not once in all the years she’d known Emory had he behaved poorly toward her or any other woman. But perhaps she should hear his side of the story, if he would tell her of it.
“Emory,” she paused for a breath of confidence.
“Yes?”
No, she couldn’t ask him such a personal question. “Never mind.”
“Avis, what is on your mind? You can tell me or ask me anything. We’re friends.”
Yes, he was exactly right. And friends told friends the truth. “I heard a rumor about you and would truly like to hear your side of the story.”
He released his grip on her hands and sat back. A deep frown marred his face. “What rumor?”
“Something that happened a few years ago.”
“It wasn’t as it appeared,” he said quickly. He clenched his jaw and fists as a bead of sweat broke out on his forehead. His eyes widened but he refused to look at her. “I—I never laid a hand on that girl. I have witnesses.”
Avis smiled at him. “I knew it. With the number of boys at Eton it could have been anyone.”
“Eton?” Emory released his grip and sank back against the velvet squabs visibly relaxed. “It was nothing but a simple misunderstanding, Avis.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
He hesitated a moment too long before he agreed to tell her. “Another young man in my room had snuck in a strumpet. He became irate after she tried to steal more money from him than she’d originally asked for and he struck her forcefully. The misunderstanding happened because James left the room after he saw what he’d done to her, and I walked in right after him. Everyone thought I had hit her. I never could live that story down. To this day there are still people who believe I was the monster who hit her.”
He stared down at his hands.
“I’m so sorry, Emory.”
“Thank you, Avis. I hate talking about what happened that night. It makes me feel as if I am there again, watching the scene unfold in front of me, trying to defend myself against something I had no part in.”
Avis felt a sense of guilt now for bringing it up. “Thank you, Emory. I’m certain it can’t be easy to relive such a dreadful time.”
Emory’s explanation seemed perfectly logical to her. Not once had he acted as if he wanted anything more than a pleasant drive through the park. She breathed a sigh of relief that Banning was wrong about him.
Banning thought about his options again for getting Avis to marry him as he rode through Hyde Park. He’d finally come to the conclusion that he would have to speak with Jennette in a manner that wouldn’t make her suspicious. The last thing he needed was his sister furious with him for having an affair with her best friend.
“Riding alone today, I see.”
He blinked and looked over at Somerton’s sardonic smile. Banning had been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn’t even heard Somerton’s horse approaching.
“What happened with your lady friend?”
Anger fired in his belly. “That is none of your concern.”
Somerton shrugged. “Perhaps not, but I thought it odd that you were riding here alone while she rode with Billingsworth by the Serpentine.”
“What?” He just barely remembered to keep his voice at a civil tone.
“The Serpentine, Billingsworth and Miss Copley, riding with just her servant as a companion.” With that, he rode away.
Banning wasted no time in turning his horse around and galloping toward the water. He pulled up a short distance from the lake and scanned the area. Being a mild day there were many people on both horse and foot. Never having paid attention to Billingsworth’s carriage, Banning had no idea if there were any special markings on the vehicle.
One open carriage caught his attention or maybe he had noticed the bonnet and remembered it from their drive to Southwold. Either way, his hands twisted on the reins. He wanted to shoot Emory Billingsworth so he couldn’t hurt another woman again. Knowing he was unable to shoot him, the thought of strangling Avis entered his mind. Unable to do that either, he rode off toward her house. He might not be able to shake some sense into her, but he could tell her his opinion on the subject.
Grantham opened the door and opened his mouth to speak.
Banning pushed past the older man. “I know she is not at home but I will be waiting for her in the study.”
“Milord,” Grantham started, but Banning was already down the hall.
He walked into the study and poured a glass of brandy as Grantham reached the room.
“Milord, you must realize how…how…indelicate this is. Miss Copley is an unmarried woman and you mustn’t barge into her home in such a brutish manner.”
“Grantham, go get your strongest footman to forcibly remove me if you must but I will not leave until I see her or you have me thrown out.”
Grantham’s back stiffened, and then he smiled tightly. “I believe I understand, milord. Would you like refreshments while you wait?”
Banning held up his snifter of brandy. “This shall do nicely. Thank you, Grantham.”
He slipped into the leather chair by the unlit fireplace and waited, and waited. The minutes ticked past until one hour had come and gone, the brandy glass refilled twice and she still hadn’t returned. How could she ride with that bastard after what he’d told her about him? Perhaps she liked him a bit more than she had said. Billingsworth had been her first choice as a lover after all. And even though she hadn’t admitted an overwhelming lust for him, she might find him attractive enough.
Dammit.
She was supposed to be his betrothed by now. He had to keep her away from Billingsworth. There was no way of doing that unless she agreed to be his wife, and the likelihood of marriage lessened every day.
“I heard I had a visitor,” her voice sounded like a soft breeze from the doorway.
He looked over at her and glared until she let out a small gasp.
“Why are you here, Selby?”
“Shut the door, Avis.”
She glanced nervously between the door and him. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she mumbled.
Banning gulped down the remains of his brandy and rose. “Not a good idea?” He laughed. “But I suppose riding with that bastard in the park with only a maid for a chaperone was a brilliant idea?”
“You were spying on me?” She inched backward toward the open doorway.
“Spying? Just how many people saw you driving with the man today, Avis? You know what they will assume,” his voice grew louder with each sentence. He strode to the doorway, caught her wrist, swung the door closed, and pushed her against the wood. “You know people will talk.”
“Why do you care?” she whispered.
He inhaled the intoxicating scent of her jasmine perfume and sighed. “I just do.”
She turned her head slightly. “I spoke to Emory about what happened at Eton.”
“Oh? And what lies did the bastard tell you?”
“Don’t call him that,” she said in a harsh tone. “He told me about the misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?
Is that what he called it?” Banning backed away from her as she recounted the lies Billingsworth had told her. Staring at her amber eyes, he realized she completely believed Billingsworth.
“That was quite a work of fiction he told you. I was there, Avis. He had no roommate named James.”
Avis threw up her hands in frustration and took a step backward. Why was this so important to him? “Why does this matter?”
He moved in closer, trapping her between the door and his hard chest again. “Because the man could hurt
you.”
“He would never do that, Banning. He’s my friend.”
“A friend doesn’t take money with no means to repay you.”
“A friend doesn’t ask for repayment,” Avis replied curtly.
He grabbed her wrists and raised them above her head, pressing his body against hers. “Stay away from him,” he whispered as he bent his head toward her lips.
Quickly she turned her head the other way to avoid his kiss. His lips landed on her neck as hot need shot through her body with his closeness. He traced the contours of her neck up to her jaw until he reached her lips. Her control slipped as his tongue found hers. Her hands itched to wind their way through his silky hair, to skim her fingers up his chest, but he held her bound to the door so she had no ability to touch him.
“Avis,” he muttered against her lips. “Marry me.”
He was wearing her down with just his nearness. She struggled to get out of his arms and put some distance between them, and some sense back into her head. Instead, he pressed his body closer to her.
“Marry me,” he whispered in her ear. “We can make love every night, even tonight, right here and now.”
“Oh God,” she mumbled, closing her eyes as his tongue lapped her earlobe. The idea of making love with him had turned her body to mush. If he let her go right now, she’d drop to the floor. She couldn’t make love with him again. No matter how much her body wanted him.
“No.”
Banning leaned his forehead against hers, breathing hard. “Avis, this is madness. We both want each other. We love each other. We should marry.”
Avis closed her eyes to keep the tears at bay. “I just can’t, Banning.”
“Why?” He barely whispered the word.
“I cannot marry you or anyone.”
“Why not? Are you secretly married to someone else?”
“Of course not.”
“Then give me one good reason why you can’t marry me,” he whispered against her forehead.
One good reason. Fear? The idea of marriage, even with Banning, still terrified her. She loved him. But
she
had her father’s blood running through her veins. She remembered the look in her mother’s eyes when her father had hit her. The memories of her mother’s broken bones and bruises, of her own bruises, would never fade. And Avis was certain of one thing—she would never want a child to go through the hell she had. She couldn’t stand to see Banning’s love turn to loathing when he realized the truth about her.
“One good reason, Avis,” he said again.
“I just can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
“That was scarcely a good reason.”
This had to end. He actually mentioned love again. His proposal today was far more serious than any previous one. And she was weakening. Perhaps it would be prudent to stop this insanity now.