Christie Kelley (6 page)

“Perhaps that is because we both have always known what might happen if we did get along.”

“Oh? And that would be what?” she answered in a sarcastic tone.

“This,” he said, sliding to the seat next to her. Slowly, he brought his mouth down to hers.

Avis knew she should push away from him and deny his accusation. But his mouth caressed hers in such a sweet manner she had to respond. Slowly, he parted her lips and they tasted each other. The action drew a moan from deep in her throat. She let her hands move up to his hair and touch the silky, dark strands.

She wanted him to be wrong about their attraction to each other, but at least from her perspective, he was right.

She had been attracted to him since that first kiss over eight years ago. She had thrust away from him that night, terrified by the sensations he invoked. This time, she wouldn’t have to push him away.

He pulled back, smiling down at her. Her cheeks blistered with heat and disappointment.

“I think we had better stop before I go back on my word and make love to you in this carriage,” he said in a husky voice.

Expecting him to move back to his seat, she didn’t know what to say when Banning dragged her up on his lap, holding her against his chest. She thought about scrambling off, but the clean, spicy scent of him and the motion of the carriage were lulling her to sleep. And sleep would keep her from the motion sickness that always plagued her when she rode in carriages. She’d deliberately stayed awake most of the night just so she might be able to sleep during their trip. As she drifted off, she realized just how nice a man Banning could be, for a blackmailer.

The carriage came to a halt in front of the coaching inn Banning used whenever he took this route. Normally, he would enjoy the good food and even better women the inn had in service, but tonight he would have Avis. His cock twitched in anticipation.

She turned toward him with a frown. “Why are we stopping?”

“It will take us another day to get to the cottage. We have to rest the horses so we shall stay here tonight.”

“We will do no such thing!”

He cocked his head at her. “Oh?”

“If someone sees me getting out of your carriage, I will be ruined.”

“You weren’t overly concerned about getting into the carriage with me this morning.”

“It was barely light when we left this morning. And no one was around then.”

“We have no choice. I will take care of everything.” The coachman opened the door. “Wait here.”

Banning walked toward the inn, dodging a mother duck taking her ducklings for a stroll. The familiar scents of meat pies and ale engulfed him as he entered the coaching stop.

“Lord Selby.” The owner greeted him with an overly large, semi-toothless grin.

“Mr. Owens, I hope you have a room for me tonight.”

“Only the best for ye, milord.”

Mr. Owens shuffled through his papers and then found his register. Banning took the time to glance around for any familiar faces. His luck held. There seemed to be no one of his acquaintance in the tavern or the dining room.

He walked back to the small table where Mr. Owens waited for him. With little thought, he signed the register Mr. and Mrs. Talbot. He tossed Mr. Owens more than the appropriate fee for the room and board.

“We would like dinner in our room.”

“I understand, milord,” Mr. Owens replied with a nod. “I shall bring yer supper up personally.”

“Thank you.”

Banning headed back out to retrieve his
wife
for the night.

“Selby,” a man’s voice called at a distance.

He recognized that voice. Banning looked up as a shriek erupted from his carriage. Dammit! Somerton must have opened his carriage door thinking he was inside and seen Avis. Of all the rotten times to meet up with a man like him. Running toward the coach, he heard Somerton’s reaction to finding her.

“My, my, this is a surprise, Miss Copley.”

“Somerton,” Avis replied in a cool tone.

Banning clamped his hand down on Somerton’s shoulder and pulled him away from the carriage. The grin on Somerton’s face said it all.

“Interesting company you’re keeping these days, Selby.”

He continued to drag the viscount away from the sputtering Avis. “Not a word of this to anyone, Somerton.”

Somerton threw his head back and laughed soundly. “Now what fun is that?”

“And what fun would it be if the entire
ton
learned of your background?”

“As if I cared,” Somerton answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Most of them realize I’m not good enough anyway.”

“But would they be pleased to learn that the somewhat respectable Viscount Somerton makes his money from renting buildings to brothels?”

“It’s only one. And besides,” he said with a chuckle, “I get a discount that way.”

Banning struggled to keep his control. Somerton was a cunning scoundrel, and Banning doubted he could trust the man. Perhaps a better threat would do the trick.

“Keep my secret for now and you can continue to live,” Banning stated calmly.

Somerton only laughed. “You’d never kill me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“And with what would you kill me? That small dagger you keep in your boot?” Somerton eased away from him. “We both know you’d never use a pistol.”

Banning’s fists clenched tight. He could not think about what had happened in France or in London. He had to focus on the present. “Just keep this quiet.”

“Very well.”

He hated to ask this question, but Somerton was the best person for this type of work. Leading him away from the carriage he said, “I need some help that you have the expertise for.”

“Oh?”

“I want to know everything about Emory Billingsworth. I know some things from his past but I want to know about his financial conditions and what is happening with his writing.”

Somerton smirked. “I can do that, but I expect a favor in return.”

“What favor?”

“I may need some business advice in the near future. You will give it to me.”

Business advice? Good Lord, this most likely had something to do with that brothel he owned. “Very well.”

Somerton walked toward his own carriage. “I shall keep your secret as my own.”

Banning could only hope he would. Now to settle Avis down. With the door to the carriage still cracked open, he peered inside to see Avis with her arms crossed over her chest. She mumbled something about a cur. He could only hope the cur was Somerton and not himself.

He opened the door, and noting her hard gaze, realized he was, in fact, the cur in question. If her eyes were daggers, he’d be dead by now. And perhaps he should be. After all, this was hardly the best way to catch a bride.

“Shall we?” he said, holding out his hand for her to take as if nothing had happened a few moments ago.

“No, I don’t believe we shall.”

“Avis, I talked to Somerton. He will keep this quiet.”

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “And you believed him? Everyone knows what a scoundrel he is.”

“True. But he wants something from me, so we made a pact.”

“Take me home, Selby.”

He scrambled back into the carriage and shut the door. “No.”

“This was a mistake,” she cried. “I should never have tried to do something so impulsive. I’m not an impulsive person. I’m just boring, plain, old, spinster Avis. The one everyone turns to when they need someone to listen to their problems.”

He grabbed her hands in his own. “Avis, you are not old, not plain, and certainly not boring. You are one of the most exciting and interesting women I have ever met.”

“You’re only saying that to get me into your bed,” she replied with a sniff.

“Maybe,” he said with a smile. “But I want you there because you are none of the things you just said you were.”

He brought her hands up to his lips and gently kissed them. “You may not be impulsive. But for once in your life, do something rash and see if you like the results.”

“I don’t like to take risks,” she whispered.

“I know, but try it anyway.”

She looked up at him with her soft amber eyes, and he was lost in their depths. He drew her closer to him. Slowly, he lowered his lips to hers. A low simmering heat suffused him as she responded to his kiss. Every time he kissed her his control went out the door, his brain concentrated on only one thing—getting her into bed.

She ended their heated contact far too soon. “I think we should go inside now.”

“Put the veil down on your bonnet so no one will recognize you.”

For once, she did as he requested without an argument. As she tied the blue ribbons under her chin, he jumped down from the carriage to assist her. Even with the veil covering her face, she kept her head down while they walked into the inn.

“Do you think anyone saw us?” she whispered to him as they reached the stairs.

“I don’t think anyone took notice. We appeared to be just another couple seeking refuge for the night.”

“Thank God,” she mumbled under her breath.

He led her into their bedroom. The room was light and airy, although the bed appeared lumpy. Since he did not intend to sleep tonight, it would not matter.

“How far away is your room?” she asked after viewing the room.

“You’re standing in my room.”

Her eyebrows lowered into a deep frown. “Then where is my room located?”

“You are here, with me.”

“Oh,” she whispered. She walked to the window and with a trembling hand moved back the curtain to stare outside.

Noticing her nervousness, he didn’t know what to say. He’d had great plans for tonight and that lumpy bed. Damn.

“I shall sleep on the floor,” he said.

She turned and gave him a curious look, then a small smile. “No. I slept for quite a while today in the carriage. You take the bed. If I get tired, I’ll sleep in the chair by the fireplace.”

He could never let a woman sleep in a chair while he slept in the bed. Before he could tell her that, a knock scraped the door.

“Mr. Talbot, it’s Mr. Owens with yer supper.”

“Come in,” Banning called.

Avis turned herself back toward the window so the proprietor could not see her. Mr. Owens entered the room and quickly glanced about for a table to set down the food. Unfortunately, the only table large enough was right next to Avis.

“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.