A Secret Affair (7 page)

CHAPTER 12

Eavesdropping was never a good idea. How many times had Mama told her that? But now that Frances was hidden in the antechamber of the ladies’ retiring room at the Averys’ ball, with Lady Lenora Harcourt and her friends chattering outside, Frances couldn’t help but listen, could she? Certainly not after she’d heard Lady Lenora say Charlie’s name.

Frances pressed a hand down the front of her embroidered sky-blue ball gown, willing her breathing to normal. She’d stepped into the other room to look for a bit of thread with which to fix a small split in her seam. It would only take a moment. But she’d become trapped when Lady Lenora and her friends had entered the retiring room. Now, Frances hovered in the darkness of the antechamber, biting her lip and straining for all she was worth to hear what they were saying.

“Mr. Holloway didn’t do
anything
?” one of the other ladies asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” came Lady Lenora’s silky reply. The lady’s voice, like the rest of her, was a bit too brash for Frances’s taste. “I was standing there on my tiptoes kissing him and he didn’t move at all.”

Frances gasped, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, hoping the other women hadn’t heard her.

“What did you do then?” came the second friend’s voice.

“What could I do?” Lady Lenora replied.

Oh, good. Frances breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, they hadn’t heard her. She’d just have to be more careful. But she
had
to hear more. Lady Lenora was admitting to
kissing
Charlie? Actually admitting it, sounding proud even? Why that little strumpet was incorrigible.

“I can hardly credit the notion,” friend one said.

“He pushed me away,” Lady Lenora added, disbelief dripping from her tone. “Pushed me.”

“Shocking,” friend two replied.

Frances sucked in her breath. What was shocking was Lady Lenora admitting her outlandish behavior to her friends. Why, the woman was downright fast! How dare she kiss Charlie and— Very well, Frances has kissed him too, but she at least had the decency to ask him to kiss her, hadn’t just jumped up on tiptoes and done it herself. How dare that widow!

“I’m telling you,” Lady Lenora continued, and Frances suspended her judgmental thoughts in order to hear more. “I’m quite convinced the man isn’t interested in ladies at all.”

Friend one and friend two laughed.

Frances scowled. Wasn’t it just like Lady Lenora to assume that a man who didn’t want her, didn’t want any woman? Why, the kiss Charlie had given Frances nearly singed the hair from her brow. She pressed her gloved fingers to her lips to stifle her laugh. Oh, wouldn’t it be delicious to waltz from the antechamber and inform Lady Lenora of just that much? It would wipe the ever-present smug look off the woman’s face if nothing else.

But in the back of her mind, Frances couldn’t shake the memory of what Annie had said the other day. And Lady Harcourt was an undisputed beauty. If Charlie didn’t find
her
desirable, well, there just might be something different about him. Could it be that he’d only kissed Frances to humor her? She had asked him after all. Kept after him. Perhaps he’d only done it to silence her once and for all.

And hadn’t he simultaneously made it clear that he had no interest in her by informing her that he had no intention of settling down? If that didn’t prove that he didn’t want to repeat the experience, nothing did. Oh, perhaps he’d only kissed her to try to keep the suspicion of not liking women from his door. The thought made her physically ill.

The shrill laughter of the ladies in the retiring room snapped Frances from her thoughts. She held her breath until she heard them leave and then she hurried from the antechamber into the main room. She stared at herself in the looking glass, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks flushed. Was it possible that Charlie Holloway didn’t prefer women?

CHAPTER 13

Frances raced into the ballroom, frantically searching for Annie. When she spotted her friend alone near the refreshment table, she hastened to her side, dodging poor Sir Stuart who asked her to dance.

“Oh Frances, there you are.” Annie’s face fell when she saw what must have been the frightful look on Frances’s face. “What is it?”

“Have you seen Charlie?” Frances asked in a rush.

“Yes. He was just here. I believe he went with Lord Avery to his study.”

Right. Frances would just go wait for him. She had to ask him. Awkward as it might be, she had to know the truth. “I’ll be back soon,” she assured Annie, hurrying off before her friend had a chance to ask any questions.

Frances waited in the corridor outside Lord Avery’s study for several minutes before she decided to put her ear to the door. Once again, her mother’s admonishment not to eavesdrop rang in her ears. But in this case it was only expedient. She might get a better idea of how much longer the two men would be if she could hear a bit of their conversation. If it seemed it would be quite a while, she’d have to seek out Charlie another evening.

She sidled up to the door and pressed her ear to the wood.

“I cannot say I’m not surprised.” The voice was not Charlie’s. It must have been Lord Avery. “And you’re quite certain about this?”

“Never been more certain,” Charlie replied.

Frances bit her lip. Certain about what?

“Then I wish you well. You know you can always count on me. And rest assured I will keep this matter entirely private, between the two of us.”

Count on Lord Avery for what? Keep what matter private
?

“Thank you, Maxwell,” Charlie said. “There’s just one more thing.”

One more thing? What
?

Frances leaned heavily against the door hoping beyond hope to hear what they were saying or guess what they were doing. With her full weight against it, the door clicked open and she tumbled inside. She sprawled in an ignominious heap upon the Aubusson rug in Lord Avery’s study.

She pushed herself up on both hands and glanced at the other occupants of the room. Lord Avery and Charlie were standing close together. It looked as if Charlie had bent down to whisper something in his friend’s ear. Or … she rubbed her eyes. Had he been about to kiss him?

She gasped.

Charlie quickly straightened and turned to face her. “Miss Birmingham!”

Frances gulped. “I was … I was just looking for you, Mr. Holloway.”

Both men came hurrying around the furniture to help her to her feet.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Birmingham?” Lord Avery asked solicitously, offering his hand.

She allowed the older man to help her up, knowing her face must be bright red. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll just … I’ll speak with you another time, Mr. Holloway. My … my apologies for interrupting.”

Without waiting for either man to utter another word, she turned and nearly raced from the room.

*   *   *

“That was a bit … odd,” Avery said as soon as Frances had taken her leave.

“Yes. I’ve found Miss Birmingham to be quite … unique,” Charlie said, staring after the space she’d just inhabited, wondering exactly what she’d wanted to speak to him about..

“I was about to tell you how much I appreciate your help and guidance, Maxwell,” Charlie said.

The two men walked together to the door. “No need to thank me. I’m happy to oblige. Do let me know how you get on, Charlie,” Avery said. “I’ve every reason to believe you’ll be a fine tutor.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Charlie shook the other man’s hand and then strolled off in pursuit of Miss Birmingham.

CHAPTER 14

Charlie had never had a chance to speak with Frances last night. He’d returned to the ballroom after his meeting with Avery to find her gone. Annie informed him that she’d left immediately. Odd when she’d seemed so eager to speak with him only a few minutes earlier. Eager enough to seek him out and come tumbling through the door of the room he’d been in. Perhaps she was just embarrassed by her little mishap.

But two things still bothered him. First, he couldn’t seem to shake the memory of their kiss. And second, there was something about Frances that he just liked, damn him, her little episode in Avery’s study last night, notwithstanding. She never failed to surprise him. And he liked that about her. He liked it very much.

The image of Lady Harcourt came to mind. She’d wanted him to kiss her as well. Why that woman thought she was interested in him, he’d never know. Perhaps it was simply because she knew she couldn’t have him. Whatever the reason, he was not interested. She struck him as someone with a nasty disposition, and he’d never cared for unhappy people. Frances, on the other hand, was extremely happy. But that wasn’t all. Yes, she made him laugh, but she’d also made him hard. In fact, he’d had an awfully inappropriate dream about her last night. One he couldn’t shake the memory of this morning. He’d never had such uncontrollable thoughts about a woman.

Frances had wanted to speak to him about something last night; she’d said as much. Perhaps he’d seek her out today. Just to see how she was doing. Merely to ask what she had wanted last night. That was all.

CHAPTER 15

When the butler announced that Mr. Charles Holloway was in the foyer waiting to pay her a call, Frances could have been knocked over by a puff of air.

“By all means, show him in,” she said, righting her skirts and smoothing a finger over her brow.
Oh, I’m being ridiculous
.
Primping myself
.

If she’d learned anything last night after her confounding turn at eavesdropping and tumble into Lord Avery’s study, it was that her suspicions were right. Clearly Charlie preferred the company of men. She’d been certain he’d been about to kiss Lord Avery or at least do something inappropriate. They’d been talking about secrets and counting on each other, hadn’t they?

Her mind raced with a thousand thoughts. It wasn’t just that. There were other things too. Like that night on the balcony at the Wilmingtons’ ball. Now that she thought on it, when she’d asked Charlie about Lady Lenora being beautiful that night, he’d answered, “Only if you like that sort of thing,” didn’t he? Of course at the time she hadn’t thought much of it. He’d gone on to tell her
she
was beautiful, in fact. But, looking back, knowing what she now knew, it was quite incriminating. Those two things, coupled with Annie’s suggestion that Charlie didn’t like women and Lady Lenora’s rumors, and Frances was quite convinced.

So why was Charlie here? The man wasn’t interested in her and wasn’t going to be. But she couldn’t help wanting to look her best in front of him. Silly, perhaps, but true. Maybe he’d come to talk about Annie and Lord Ashbourne’s wedding.

When Charlie entered the room, Frances couldn’t help feeling the tug of attraction. The butterflies scattered in her stomach too, those confounded insects. Attracted to a man who didn’t prefer women. She had seriously gone mad. She shook off the unhelpful thought and concentrated on pinning a bright smile to her face, watching as Charlie made his way over to the settee to bow over her hand.

“Miss Birmingham,” he said. “So good to see you.”

She gestured to the chair to her right. “Please, Mr. Holloway, have a seat.”

Charlie sat and Frances sat up straight and blinked at him. Her gaze roved over his high cheekbones, wavy dark hair, and the oh-so-irresistible cleft in his chin. He was too good-looking by half. It was really too bad. “Care for some tea, Mr. Holloway?”

Charlie leaned toward her. “No. Thank you. I came to … That is to say I … I wanted to see how you were doing. After last night, I mean …”

“Right as rain, I assure you,” she replied in an animated voice.

Her chest ached. She understood now why he’d come. He knew she’d seen him with Lord Avery and he wanted to make certain she wasn’t shocked, or offended, or worse, intending to tell anyone. He needn’t worry. She might not have wished things to happen this way, but she wasn’t about to be judgmental. It was absolutely none of her affair what—ahem—pursuits Mr. Holloway preferred, and she had no intention of acting like a vengeful scorned woman. Lady Harcourt might be spreading vicious rumors, but Frances would never do that, even if Mr. Holloway weren’t her closest friend’s future brother-in-law.

“Please do not worry, Mr. Holloway. There’s nothing I saw that I intend to repeat in mixed company or otherwise.” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “Nothing you saw?”

She smiled at him. “Absolutely nothing.”

His brow remained furrowed. “Very … well.”

“And I don’t want you to think for one moment that I hold any ill will toward you.”

His lips were pursed now and he was staring at her strangely. “Ill will?”

“None whatsoever. While it’s clear that there can never be more between us, there’s absolutely no reason we cannot be fast friends.”

“Fast friends?” he echoed, his eyes widening. “Frances, are you saying you think of me as only … a… friend?”

Frances gave him a bright smile and nodded. “I don’t see why we cannot be. It stands to reason. We’re certain to see each other quite a bit what with Annie and your brother marrying.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s true.”

She braced her hands on her knees. “Perhaps you can give me advice on matters such as whom to dance with and whom to receive as a caller. I am looking to marry, after all.”

Both of his brows shot up. “You want me to give you advice? About gentleman callers?”

“Why not? You know quite a few of the gentlemen of the
ton
, do you not? What do you think of Sir Stuart Walters for instance?”

“Sir Stuart Walters?” His eyes remained wide.

“Yes.” Frances was determined to come through this conversation with a new, close friend.

Charlie scrubbed his hands across his face. Had she surprised him with her willingness to let bygones be bygones? He couldn’t change who he was, after all, and she would be the veriest fool to attempt to get him to do so. No. The practical side of her had already decided that lemonade was to be made with these lemons.