Free Christie Kelley by Every Night Im Yours Page 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