Banking on Temperance by Becky Lower

stopped in the doorway for a minute before he made his presence known. Her eyes had been closed and she was turned on her side, as if turning to her partner in bed. When she emitted a small, quiet moan, he lost control of himself for a moment. And a moment was all it took. Temperance would not set foot in his bank again, or in his flat. Maybe not into his life, either. Of that, he was certain. He already missed her thrice-weekly visits. She was a proud, diligent young lady, and he had severely overstepped the tenuous friendship they had been developing.
    He rubbed his hands over his face and pulled his body erect. He’d have to figure out a way to right his wrong. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to allow her into his quarters, even when he wasn’t there. It was too intimate a setting for them, the bed was too close, and Basil had never been good at denying himself the pleasure of female companionship for too long.
    But Temperance wasn’t an actress or a saloon girl. She was the embodiment of her name, and he’d best remember that should he be lucky enough to have any future dealings with her. He’d seek her out, and propose a new business arrangement. He wanted her to know he was as appalled by his behavior as she was, and that it wouldn’t happen again, if they set up some barricades along the way.
    He’d give her a day to calm down and then make his way to the public house tomorrow night, where he could talk to her as she worked. He was certain a small change in the way they currently conducted their business would be enough to entice her back and then he could continue to look forward to her visits. In the meantime, he should probably go to the dance hall and find a willing young woman to slake the desire she had created. He gave the idea a moment’s thought.
    He raised his gaze to the doorway from which Temperance had just fled. Then his eyes went to the doorframe leading to the small bedroom, where they had kissed. Sighing deeply, he realized he had no desire to spend any more time with a woman, however voluptuous, who was heavily made up, chose to wear strong, cheap perfume, and would give herself to whomever had the most money on him. He much preferred women who valued themselves a bit more, whose scent was that of a spring meadow. Temperance’s scent. He shook his head to dispel the thought.
    Just for tonight, his desire waned. That’s what he told himself. This was not a lifestyle change he was experiencing. He went to the bedroom, and laid in the spot where Temperance had just been. He stared up at the ceiling with his hand rubbing his chest. Heartburn again. He should really get it checked out by the doctor. He could recapture their friendship, he was sure of it. If not, he didn’t deserve his reputation as a ladies’ man.
    • • •
    Good Lord, what had she done? Temperance urged her horse to a fast trot, as she quickly put some distance between herself and the very tempting Basil Fitzpatrick. Her family was desperate for the income Basil provided to them and she could now never return. What had she been thinking, lying in his bed as if she were one of the wanton saloon girls who she was certain occupied his bed most nights? What evil force was at work in her mind? She was aware of the rumors about him. You couldn’t be on the streets of St. Louis and not overhear them. He was a real charmer with the ladies, and she vowed to never let herself fall under his spell, however handsome he might be.
    It wasn’t only the lifestyle he led that she was wary of, but his place in society. And his attitude toward women. They’d had a few discussions about women’s rights and were diametrically opposed on that score. Yes, she needed to stay as far away from him as she could. So what did she do at the first opportunity? Fall into his bed, as so many others had done before her. Good Lord!
    When she arrived at the restaurant, she led her horse around to the stables and spent a few minutes removing the saddle from