A Secret Affair by Valerie Bowman Read Free Book Online

husband.
    But not tonight.
    Tonight she was downtrodden and tired, and her feet hurt more than a little, no thanks to Sir Stuart. Tonight she would collect Mama and leave. She would rally her strength and start anew tomorrow.
    She whirled in a circle looking for her mother and nearly knocked straight into … Mr. Charles Holloway.
    “What are you doing here?” The words flew from her mouth, and she wanted to kick herself for such an idiotic question. He had a perfect right to be at a ball, didn’t he?
    But Charlie had a look in his eye she hadn’t seen before. Determined, confident, a gleam really.
    “I came to see you.” His dark eyes bore into hers.
    Oh, it wasn’t possible she’d heard correctly. Frances had to stop herself from glancing behind her back to see to whom he was talking. Surely not her. Charlie Holloway had come to a ball to see … her? Not possible.
    “M … me?” she stammered. Oh lovely. Now she was a ninny in addition to being idiotic.
    “Yes.”
    She swallowed hard and counted to five willing herself the entire time to compose her thoughts. The man was here, standing directly in front of her, looking like Adonis and smelling like a mixture of soap and evergreen, and she wanted to bury her face in his cravat. That much was true. Yes. But what did that mean? Anything. Hmm. Surely that was suitability or whatever indefinable thing lovers felt for one another. Or was it? How was she to know?
    She forced herself to fold her hands together serenely, a trick Annie had recently taught her. It gave the appearance of being quite in control regardless of what thoughts were whirling through one’s mind. “You came here to see me?” Her voice sounded much more poised this time. Excellent .
    Mr. Holloway’s only reply was a nod.
    “About?” More poise. Good show .
    He bent his head and whispered in her ear. “Meet me in the library?”
    “The library?” she managed to repeat softly, shuddering at the heat of his whisper on the delicate skin of her neck.
    The library. Meeting a gentleman alone in a library could be the death of her reputation and they both knew it, but Frances wasn’t about to refuse such a compelling offer. Not to mention she was more than a bit intrigued by what he would say or do once they were behind the library’s closed doors.
    “By all means,” she replied in the most steady voice she could muster.
    Charlie slipped from the room first while Frances waited near the refreshment table for five agonizingly slow minutes before she, too, ventured from the ballroom. She made her way silently to the Chathams’ library. She said a brief prayer that they wouldn’t be seen together, but mostly her belly was a roiling mass of anticipation. Whatever could Charlie Holloway want to discuss with her in the library … alone?
    She closed her eyes briefly before turning the handle and pushing open the library door. Charlie was there with a brace of candles lit on the sideboard behind him. He looked as dashing and handsome as always, his feet crossed at the ankles, his elbows rested against the sideboard behind him. She closed the door with a thud.
    Frances gulped. Was he calling her here to ask her once and for all to leave him alone? No. It couldn’t be. Had that been his message he could have easily informed her last night or any of the other hideously embarrassing times she’d thrown herself at him. She eyed him carefully. What was he up to?
    “Thank you for coming,” he began.
    She nodded. “Of course. What may I help you with?”
    “I came to … that is to say…”
    “Yes?”
    He pulled himself away from the sideboard and strode over to her. He stood towering above her. He took a deep breath. “First of all, I wanted to say, please don’t get your hopes up about … us. I have every intention of becoming a tutor. Now that Jordan’s marrying, an heir will be along soon, I’ve little doubt. And I don’t need to—”
    Frances stared at him. Her mouth fell open.