The Tutor Read Online Free PDF Page A

me.
    Predominantly fear that I would lose my post, or worse, that Allinson had learned my credentials were a lie and would turn me over to the authorities, but also an undercurrent of excitement and a ridiculous frisson of lust at the timbre of the man’s voice. He spoke with the cultured accent of aristocracy, yet there was a sort of roughness in his deep voice that somehow suggested to me a man who worked with his hands and wasn’t afraid to get them dirty. The best of both worlds, educated intellect coupled with a workingman’s raw strength and vitality.
    “Idiot!” My insane musings had no basis in fact. I tended to indulge myself in
    little fantasies that real life mostly didn’t measure up to.
    I opened the door and entered.
    The master of the house was not behind his desk as I’d imagined he would be. He
    stood facing the fireplace that barely took the chill off the air. Drafty old house. No wonder that door to the tower had swung shut.
    I glanced at the portrait of Lavinia above his head and wondered if he had been
    addressing his dead wife. Did he miss her terribly? What had their marriage been like?
    Allinson remained with his back to me, staring into the fire for a moment. I had
    plenty of opportunity to study his backside, the cut of the jacket that stretched across his shoulders and the length of his trouser-clad legs. The tall boots he’d worn outdoors were gone. I missed them. A pair of wingtip shoes took their place. Sir Richard was a trim, fit figure, but not the romantic paragon I’d imagined at first sight.
    Then he turned to face me. My mouth went dry. The thick shock of dark hair with
    an errant lock or two falling over his forehead and those solemn brown eyes haunted by grief would’ve put Lord Byron to shame. He was indeed a poetic figure.
    I cast myself as a penitent employee and dropped my gaze to the floor. “I would
    like to apologize for my earlier rudeness. I tend to joke when I’m nervous.”
    “Please sit.” He gestured to one of the two chairs before the fireplace.
    I took my place and waited for my scolding. Allinson strode restlessly from the
    fireplace to the brocade-draped window where he struck another dramatic pose, looking through the mullioned panes at the garden below.
    “My sons are quite distraught from the loss of their mother last year. Their grief was so deep, I couldn’t bear to send them to boarding school as scheduled. With their nanny already gone, I should have hired a caretaker, but…” He fell silent, appearing to be lost in sadness and memories.
    This wasn’t the reprimand I’d expected. I shifted, uncomfortably aware that my
    mad attraction to this man grieving the loss of his wife was wrong, not to mention pointless. Desire had hit me like a bolt from the blue, unexpected, unwanted but undeniable. Time to shake it off.
    “I’m very sorry for your loss, sir. If you give me another chance, I would like to try to provide a better example for the boys. They’re both bright and eager to learn. I’m certain I can prepare them to join a class of their peers by next year.”
    Sir Richard gave a small grunt. “Is any lad ever prepared for that battlefield?”
    I’d never been to boarding school and wouldn’t have offered a comment even if I
    had, since he clearly spoke to himself. I breathed softly, disappearing into the chair while waiting for him to make up his mind about me. I studied his classic profile, the strong nose and chin, the sharp cheekbones, the deep-set eyes under heavy brows.
    “Your references and education are beyond reproach.” His breath steamed the
    cold window glass. “Finding another likely candidate for the position might prove
    difficult.”
    His gaze finally turned to me. I sat straighter, not quite smiling since I didn’t want him to think I took this lightly, but trying to appear bright and amenable and like someone who would be a positive influence on children. It was quite a juggling act.
    A flicker of something I