A Secret Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

glasses of champagne and lemonade, and finally, to the French doors that led to the balcony. “After you,” he said with a nod, and Frances preceded him into the night.
    The sharp sting of the cold air found Charlie’s face. He led Frances to the far side of the balcony with his hand on the small of her back. For the first time he noticed her scent. Just the hint of cinnamon and some type of sweet flower. Honeysuckle, perhaps? He breathed it in. Her hair was caught in a soft bun on the back of her head and the tendrils that fell along her smooth neck were inviting. He longed to reach out and curl one around his finger.
    Charlie shook himself. What was he thinking? He was being positively indecent with Annie’s best friend. Fine, she may have asked him to escort her outside, but that didn’t give him leave to take liberties.
    Frances reached the balustrade and then turned to face him, her face glowing prettily from the candles that dotted the balcony and the silver gleam of moonlight.
    “So, Mr. Holloway,” she said, stepping toward him and scrunching up her nose in an adorable way that he suspected was meant to keep her spectacles from slipping but made him want to count the freckles that dotted the bridge of her nose. “Tell me, what is your fondest dream in this life?”
    Charlie opened his mouth to give a cursory response, but he quickly closed it again. What was his fondest dream in this life? Had anyone ever asked him such a probing question before? He doubted it.
    The interesting thing was that he knew the answer. Had known it since he was a small boy. He’d just never told anyone about it before. It had always seemed silly and unimportant. But now, standing here, gazing into Miss Birmingham’s lovely blue eyes, he was tempted enough to answer.
    “The truth is I’ve always wanted to be a tutor.”
    Frances blinked rapidly. “A tutor?”
    “Yes. I enjoy books and studying immensely and want to share what I’ve learned with others. Especially with children who are not so fortunate as to be able to afford private tutors.” He shook his head. “It’s funny. I’ve never told another living soul that until tonight.”
    A slight smile touched Miss Birmingham’s lips. “Don’t worry. Your secret is perfectly safe with me. A tutor? Really?” she asked softly.
    He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes. I know the son of an earl isn’t expected to want such a thing, but … well, you asked and I answered, Miss Birmingham. I’ve always wanted to be a tutor. I suppose you think it daft.”
    “Not at all. I think it’s absolutely lovely,” she breathed instead, making Charlie take a step back.
    Why had he admitted such a thing to a young woman he barely knew? Her response had surprised him. Miss Birmingham seemed to think it quite noble of him. For some reason he was immensely glad she had asked. Telling her was like having a great weight lifted from his chest. It felt good … freeing, powerful.
    “Since you’ve shared your secret, I’ll tell you something about me,” she added. “Something I’ve never told another living soul, either. Then we’ll have a pact, never to share our confidences with anyone else.”
    Charlie nodded. Smiling at her, he shook her hand when she held it out to secure the pact. Why was he agreeing to it? Even more disconcerting, why did it feel so right?
    “Very well,” he said, pumping her hand and trying to ignore the soft feel of it through the fabric of her glove.
    She leaned forward, and the wisp of honeysuckle scent went straight to Charlie’s brain. Something else went directly to another point south on his body when her warm breath stirred the hair near his ear. “I’ve always wanted to be a writer,” she whispered.
    He leaned farther in, entranced by her. “A writer?”
    “Yes, an author really.” She straightened up then and stopped whispering, and Charlie wished she hadn’t.
    “I write everything down in my journal, and I must admit I have an awful