Read An Affair to Remember for Free Online

Brevenham, over a glass of port at White’s
    S ir Phineas Thraxton leaned on his cane and stared out the window of the tiny, cramped room that passed as the morning room. He glanced once at the closed door, then leaned over the windowsill and blew a cloud of smoke into the chilled morning air. As he stood, he bumped the edge of the shutter where it hung drunkenly on its hinges. He winced at the resulting groan of rotted wood and rusty fasteners, a sad testament to the state of the entire establishment.
    He hated this house. Hated every creaking, leaking inch of it. Narrow and drafty, it was in a part of town he openly considered deplorable. He took another pull of the cigarillo, savoring the pungent aroma even as he tried to wave it out the window.
    It was his only vice, and it was a demmed shame his granddaughter had taken it into such dislike. He deserved a few pleasures, at least. Especially now that fortune had turned her back on the Thraxton family. Gingerly holding therapidly shrinking cigarillo, Sir Phineas blew a perfect circle of smoke into the air. A noise in the hallway made him freeze, and he relaxed only when he heard Mrs. Duckrow’s raw voice raised in outcry at the clumsiness of a maid. The housekeeper might be a termagant, but she didn’t interfere with his pleasures. No, that privilege was reserved to his granddaughter, Anna.
    Anna was Sir Phineas’s ultimate joy. Free spirited, intelligent, attractive, and opinionated—she possessed all the best Thraxton qualities. Phineas had no doubt that, had he not been so foolish as to tie up the family fortune in a series of unfortunate investments, Anna would have found a nice, handsome young man and settled into a life more suitable to her station.
    He bit the end of his cigarillo and stared morosely out the window for a long moment, mulling over the unsatisfying aspects of his life and wondering what he could do to fix things. After a moment, he shook himself out of his brown reverie. By God, he was a Thraxton; something would occur to right things. He was certain of it.
    Anna’s quick tread sounded in the hallway. Sir Phineas took two final puffs, then tossed the cigarillo out the window, closed it, and then hurriedly limped to a chair by the cold fireplace and dropped into it. He’d barely managed to pull a nearby lap rug across his knees before the door opened and Anna walked in.
    Tall, auburn-haired, and elegant, with a nose as bold as her spirit, she was a true Thraxton. Every blessed inch of her.
    “There you are,” she said, her smile warming the whole room. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”
    “I’m sitting here, dying of thirst.”
    “More likely you were smoking one of your nasty cigarillos.”
    He almost returned her smile, but caught himself in time. Thank God his granddaughter wasn’t a prude. He wouldn’t live with anyone who spouted mealymouthed morality. If he had any complaints, it was that Anna had inherited his own outspoken tenacity along with her grandmother’s overly generous heart. As a result, once his granddaughter took it into her head to help someone, neither heaven nor high water would turn her from her mark.
    Sir Phineas wished she’d find someone more worthy than he for the focus of her astounding efforts. It would help if it were someone well established. Perhaps even wealthy.
    He folded his mouth in what he hoped was a hurt expression. “How can you accuse me of smoking? Didn’t I promise I would quit last Christmas?”
    “So you did, although you were quite careful not to tell me exactly when you were going to quit. I’ve caught you doing it a total of seventeen times since.”
    “Unfeeling, disrespectful girl.”
    “Rude, bamboozling grandpapa,” she said, taking the seat opposite his with a grin.
    “Don’t try to cozen me,” he said, though he was more than a little pleased that she was in such good spirits. “I might look old, but I’m as sharp as a quill.”
    “So you keep telling