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She had known it was wrong.  She had known it was wrong the whole time, and still she hadn’t been able to stop herself.  He was too charming.  He was too sweet.  The cliché wilting words of romance were like dancing fireflies rising into the night sky when they came out of his mouth, and the passion — the passion! — it was enough to make her pull her coat open — buttons be damned! — to throw herself into the sinful mire of love and deceit that this affair had turned into.  More pressing to her mind now, though, was how she was to explain the missing button and the late hour of her return to Charles…