My Dearest Enemy (12 page)

"Yes.
Now
." He lowered his head, peering into her face. "What the devil is wrong with you? Are you unwell?"

Too close. She backpedaled, stumbling toward the stairs. Her heels caught on the first riser and she began to fall—Avery's hands shot out. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into his arms, away from the stairs.

For a second they stood, her breasts molded to his chest, his big hands tangled in her hair, the air static with the same attraction that had left her dry-mouthed and incoherent at the lunch table yesterday.

"Thank you." Her voice was high, superficial. "Excuse me. I have things to do."

She pulled away and fled, pursued by the knowledge that Avery Thorne, the one man she'd ever felt so much affinity, oh damn, so much
attraction toward
, was her competition, her adversary, and thus, her dearest enemy.

"I don't care what you do with the invitations but I will certainly not be answering them. I am not your secretary." Hearing Lily in the sitting room, Evelyn tossed her gloves on the hall table and, smiling at her son, motioned him to follow her.

She cracked the door and peeked inside. Her family was there. Lily sat on the window seat and Francesca on the sofa. Even the presense of that prickly Polly Makepeace sitting in a chair pulled next to the sofa couldn't dim her pleasure.

With a smile, she threw open the door, announcing to the startled inhabitants, "Look who I've brought home."

She took hold of Bernard's hand and tugged him into the room beside her. "You would have been proud of me, Lily. I was really quite firm—" She turned to shut the door and saw him.

Gerald.

The air left her lungs in a sharp gasp. She clutched Bernard's arm.
He
rose to his feet and came toward her, his features swimming out of focus.

"Evelyn?" She heard the concern in Lily's voice but could not tear her gaze from the approaching man.

"I'm delighted to meet you again," he said, "Cousin Evelyn."

Cousin Evelyn
? He made as though to take her hand. Tremors of revulsion danced through her and she jerked away.

For a second he froze and then said smoothly, "How trying it must be to arrive home only to find it infiltrated by guests. Avery Thorne, ma'am. It's been a long time."

"Mr. Thorne!" Bernard said with surprised delight. He cleared his throat, reaching past her and holding out his hand. Avery shook it. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, sir."

"And I yours."

Avery Thorne
, Evelyn thought faintly.
Yes, that would explain the resemblance
.

"Though," Avery went on, "I must point out that we have met before. You were in nappies and I was in knickers." He inclined his head. "But I am remiss. Won't you be seated, Cousin Evelyn?"

"Of course." She tried to smile, knew it to be a failure. "You've caught me unawares, I'm afraid. Forgive me for not properly greeting you… Cousin Avery."

"I believe I've taken everyone unawares, ma'am."

His gaze flickered toward where Lily sat watching intently. Poor Lily. Unused to men as she was, this great huge creature must terrify her.

Evelyn, using his momentary distraction to skirt by him, seated herself next to Polly Makepeace.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Aunt Francesca." Bernard, displaying his newfound maturity, bent over his aunt's hand.

"And it's a pleasure to see you again, Bernard," Francesca said. "Since no one else seems likely to do so, let me introduce you to our houseguest, Miss Polly Makepeace. Miss Makepeace is recovering from an accident."

Evelyn flushed guiltily. She'd so focused on Avery that she'd failed to extend the simple courtesy of concern to their guest—however that guest had come by that status. Miss Makepeace hadn't meant to fall off the podium.

"I'm so glad you feel well enough to join the family, Miss Makepeace," she said.

"I know what you're thinking," Polly said gruffly. "Believe me, I wouldn't still be here but Miss Bede insisted I stay until I am able to walk unaided."

"Lily is absolutely right," Evelyn murmured. "We are only too pleased to have you."

"Hmph." Polly sank back in her chair as Bernard executed a polite bow in her direction.

Mindful of Lily's unusual silence, Evelyn studied the girl, noting worriedly that Lily was dressed in what she called her "rationals." Her color was high; her eyes glittered dangerously. Men disliked women in masculine garb. Particularly men like Avery Thorne. And Evelyn knew all too well how important it was to curry favor with men.

Right now Lily's garment didn't seem rational so much as rash. The trouser-like things drew attention to hips and lower curves that were far from masculine and her man's shirt only accented her exotic femininity. Only her hair, pulled into a nice neat chignon, looked unexceptional.

Evelyn turned her attention to Avery. Soon he would be Bernard's guardian. The thought brought a wave of despair.

For nearly five years they'd rattled happily along at Mill House, their occasional crisis put to rights by Lily's skillful management, their wants gratified by Lily's generous nature, their rare instances of friction soothed by Lily's diplomacy. Their lives had flowed on like a feather drifting down a slow river.

They rarely socialized, Francesca because she was nearly as notorious as Lily was unacceptable and Evelyn because she would not associate with those who snubbed Lily. Not that she missed country society, not at all.

Others might consider their lives dull. Evelyn liked it that way. She'd had quite enough excitement in her eight years of marriage. Here with Lily, for the first time in her life, a man was not ordering her world; she didn't need to flatter a man to ensure domestic harmony or trade her body for his goodwill or pacify him in order to win some small liberty. And yet now, suddenly, Avery Thorne appeared, resurrecting memories. Unpleasant memories.

He looked so very much like Gerald. The same bold features, the same startlingly colored eyes, the large hands capable of such punishing strength. Only his expression was different, but then, the candor and integrity in his face could be a trick of light…

Avery looked up, catching Evelyn's eye. He smiled slightly, an ironic twist of the lips that sent Evelyn's gaze plummeting to her lap. She cursed herself as a coward.

How could she give up all the privileges and freedoms she'd discovered? Indeed, how could she ask this man for anything when she couldn't even meet his gaze?

"Miss Bede." Having done his duty by his aunt and Polly, Bernard was approaching Lily. "I trust you are keeping well."

"Very well, thank you," Lily said. "You've certainly, grown, haven't you?"

At nearly six feet, Bernard towered over his next tallest classmate by a good six inches. He would even top Lily by some inches.

"Yes, Miss Bede. So they say."

"Aren't you going to offer him some of Francesca's chocolate?" Avery asked. The innocuous question brought a flush to Lily's cheeks. Her head snapped up and she pierced Avery with a glare.

Evelyn stared at Lily, amazed at her boldness, until she remembered that Lily had spent four years trading written volleys point for point with this man. Never once had she backed down. Evelyn watched with wistful admiration as Lily rose to her full height—and no one could call it any less than impressive—battle lights gleaming in her sloe black eyes. A man would never cow Lily.

With a sigh of resignation, Avery followed suit. "You pop up and down more often than a child's Jack-in-the-box," he said.

"No one forced you to your feet," Lily said.

"Only manners," Avery replied. Apparently the conversation had occurred before and with no satisfactory outcome since neither of them bothered to pursue it.

"And as for chocolate, I'd sooner give Bernard a kiss," she said and, suiting the act to the words, bussed Bernard gently on his smooth cheek. "Welcome home, Bernard."

Bernard suffered this assault on his teenage dignity without flinching. But Lily, ever sensitive to those she loved, saw the embarrassment her kiss caused.

"Stand still, lad," Avery murmured lazily. "Miss Bede is simply demonstrating her affectionate nature."

Bernard colored. In concern Evelyn leaned forward. Highly emotional episodes sometimes precipitated Bernard's bouts with breathlessness.

"He's fine," Polly whispered comfortingly. "Listen. You can't hear a thing untoward." At Evelyn's startled glance she went on. "Miss Bede told me about his lungs."

"I didn't mean to offend you, Bernard," Lily said.

"Not at all," Bernard replied. He did sound fine. Evelyn relaxed. "As Cousin Avery pointed out, you are blessed with a warm heart. Your welcome simply surprised me. Harrow's deans are seldom so affectionate."

"Well said, lad," Avery said approvingly. "Your Latin might stand improving, but I see Harrow has succeeded in making a gentleman of you."

Bernard acknowledged this accolade by beaming with pleasure.

"That's all they need do at his school to meet your approval?" Lily asked Avery. "Teach him the right manners, the right way to act, give him a list of the right things to say?"

"Right," Avery said, watching Lily with the same lazy attentiveness the barn cat might watch newborn chicks.

As if she couldn't believe her ears, she moved closer to him. "Does that not strike you as a trifle elitist?"

"Gentlemanly behavior
is
elitism of the most welcome variety," Avery said. "I hope Bernard aspires to codes of conduct which will serve him well throughout his life."

"As it has served you."

"I can only hope so, yes." They glared at each other.

Evelyn's stomach fluttered unpleasantly. Lily, ap-parently oblivious to any danger, moved within a few feet of Avery. In distress Evelyn realized how exceptionally tall he was; he topped Lily by at least five inches. He banked his brilliant gaze behind bronze lashes. Evelyn mistrusted that unfathomable expression. He could reach out and strike—

"Mr. Thorne," Lily said, "you may pine for the days when one could demand pistols at dawn simply because someone declared your gloves an imperfect fit, but I assure you that the modern world doesn't give this for such things."