pulled on her wrapper and followed him into the hallway. Banning opened the door to the other room. A large desk faced the sea and stacks of paper and books lined the walls.
“I thought you might wish to use this as your study while you are here. I asked Mr. Hathaway to set it up for you.”
Her heart melted with the generous gift he’d given her. She threw herself at him and kissed him soundly. “Thank you.”
“Just remember your first priority is to learn about passion, and you can’t do that locked up in here. Now get dressed for that walk.”
“Yes, my lord.” Avis held out her wrapper and nightrail and gave him an elegant curtsy.
“You’re too cheeky by far,” he said with a smile and then walked down the stairs.
Avis glanced back into the study he’d prepared for her. “You are too nice by far,” she whispered.
They walked along the shoreline hand in hand for close to an hour. A comfortable companionship evolved as they strolled even though they barely spoke to each other. They trudged back to the cottage slowly as if they resented having to return.
Reaching the terrace, Avis shook the sand out of her boots, noting that he did the same. His strong leg muscles stretched as he pulled off his second boot. Suppressing the urge to rub her hand down his leg, she wondered if she would always feel this potent attraction to the man. Perhaps once they made love she would be able to look at him and not feel these strange sensations.
“Would you like some time to write?”
It might be best to get some time and perspective away from him. “That would be nice.”
Banning turned away but not before she noticed his small frown. All she had done was accept his offer. Had she imagined the crestfallen look?
“Shall we meet for luncheon at one?” she asked. That was only two short hours from now. She hoped that would appease him.
“Yes, let’s have a luncheon on the terrace.” He gave her a quick bow and left her alone.
She walked into the study and the kindness of his generosity struck her again. Never had she known a man to think about a woman’s needs as he had done. In her father’s home, he was the ruler, the king, and the man with the power. Everything was for his pleasure and God help the person who displeased him. Especially his wife.
Avis pushed aside the dreadful memories of her past and concentrated on her story. Determined to uncover the mystery of her dull writing and fix her errors, she read the first page and saw nothing. Frustration surged in her. Perhaps it just wasn’t the first paragraph, she read further. The prose was lyrical, the descriptions lush, what more could a reader want?
A knock on the door interrupted her. “Lady Selby, may I have a word?”
Lady Selby? How could she have forgotten she was supposed to be his wife? “Yes, Mrs. Hathaway. Please come in.”
Mrs. Hathaway heaved a breath. “Thank you, my lady. I need to know if you wish to plan the meals while you are here.”
That was a chore she certainly did not need. “Thank you, but you are doing a fine job. I will leave our appetites in your trusty hands.”
The older woman blushed at the comment. “My lady…” her voice trailed off.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” she waved a portly hand at Avis. “I’m just a busy old bee who should mind her own business. It’s not my place—”
“Mrs. Hathaway, if you have something to say, please feel free,” Avis said gently.
Mrs. Hathaway nodded. “We’re a little more informal in the country than those town servants.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “It’s just that Lord Selby is downstairs playing some mournful tune on the pianoforte, and you’re up here staring at your papers. For a newly wedded couple, you don’t seem very happy. I was wondering if everything was all right?”
“We are very well.”
“If there’s any problems, you just come ask me. Harry and me have been married forty years now. There isn’t much I don’t
“I thought you might wish to use this as your study while you are here. I asked Mr. Hathaway to set it up for you.”
Her heart melted with the generous gift he’d given her. She threw herself at him and kissed him soundly. “Thank you.”
“Just remember your first priority is to learn about passion, and you can’t do that locked up in here. Now get dressed for that walk.”
“Yes, my lord.” Avis held out her wrapper and nightrail and gave him an elegant curtsy.
“You’re too cheeky by far,” he said with a smile and then walked down the stairs.
Avis glanced back into the study he’d prepared for her. “You are too nice by far,” she whispered.
They walked along the shoreline hand in hand for close to an hour. A comfortable companionship evolved as they strolled even though they barely spoke to each other. They trudged back to the cottage slowly as if they resented having to return.
Reaching the terrace, Avis shook the sand out of her boots, noting that he did the same. His strong leg muscles stretched as he pulled off his second boot. Suppressing the urge to rub her hand down his leg, she wondered if she would always feel this potent attraction to the man. Perhaps once they made love she would be able to look at him and not feel these strange sensations.
“Would you like some time to write?”
It might be best to get some time and perspective away from him. “That would be nice.”
Banning turned away but not before she noticed his small frown. All she had done was accept his offer. Had she imagined the crestfallen look?
“Shall we meet for luncheon at one?” she asked. That was only two short hours from now. She hoped that would appease him.
“Yes, let’s have a luncheon on the terrace.” He gave her a quick bow and left her alone.
She walked into the study and the kindness of his generosity struck her again. Never had she known a man to think about a woman’s needs as he had done. In her father’s home, he was the ruler, the king, and the man with the power. Everything was for his pleasure and God help the person who displeased him. Especially his wife.
Avis pushed aside the dreadful memories of her past and concentrated on her story. Determined to uncover the mystery of her dull writing and fix her errors, she read the first page and saw nothing. Frustration surged in her. Perhaps it just wasn’t the first paragraph, she read further. The prose was lyrical, the descriptions lush, what more could a reader want?
A knock on the door interrupted her. “Lady Selby, may I have a word?”
Lady Selby? How could she have forgotten she was supposed to be his wife? “Yes, Mrs. Hathaway. Please come in.”
Mrs. Hathaway heaved a breath. “Thank you, my lady. I need to know if you wish to plan the meals while you are here.”
That was a chore she certainly did not need. “Thank you, but you are doing a fine job. I will leave our appetites in your trusty hands.”
The older woman blushed at the comment. “My lady…” her voice trailed off.
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry,” she waved a portly hand at Avis. “I’m just a busy old bee who should mind her own business. It’s not my place—”
“Mrs. Hathaway, if you have something to say, please feel free,” Avis said gently.
Mrs. Hathaway nodded. “We’re a little more informal in the country than those town servants.” She cleared her throat before continuing, “It’s just that Lord Selby is downstairs playing some mournful tune on the pianoforte, and you’re up here staring at your papers. For a newly wedded couple, you don’t seem very happy. I was wondering if everything was all right?”
“We are very well.”
“If there’s any problems, you just come ask me. Harry and me have been married forty years now. There isn’t much I don’t
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