Sin With A Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club)

Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

“ M iss Tina, it’s time to get up. And you have a letter—hand delivered!”

Tina opened her eyes, yawned, and stretched. “Maria,” she said with a smile. After finding the shawl, she’d lain down again on her bed and actually fallen asleep. And she’d been dreaming. Her smile wavered and disappeared altogether. She’d been dreaming of flirting outrageously with Richard Eversham!

The dream was fading, but the feelings it had engendered remained.

Uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts she sought to cast Mr. Eversham from her mind, but almost immediately he was back again.

“Your letter, miss.”

She took the letter from Maria and broke the seal. A single sheet of paper covered in bold black script, and signed “ Eversham. ” Tina felt a little frisson of shock and, seeing Maria watching her, turned away for more privacy.

“Are you quite sure this is the dress you want to wear, miss?” Maria said doubtfully.

“Yes,” Tina answered firmly, and returned to her letter.

Miss Smythe, I wish you the best with your venture at the theater; be assured I will be thinking of you. If it helps, I want you to imagine me standing at your shoulder, whispering encouragement in your ear. I have set aside some time for another appointment tomorrow at 2 o’clock, if that is acceptable to you. I look forward to our next encounter. Eversham.

Tina felt a shiver run over her skin, as if Mr. Eversham really was standing at her shoulder, whispering in her ear. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to imagine him doing that. She certainly wasn’t sure she wanted to have him in her dreams. In fact she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be doing any of this at all.

But when she saw herself in the floor- length mirror in her new dress, with her hair pinned up and the loose curls Maria had created framing her face, her confidence returned. Horace would not dare to laugh at this woman. Maria fastened her jade necklace around her neck, and she felt beautiful, for the first time happy with herself. She had frequently wished herself to be taller and slimmer, but she could see now that she had grown into an attractive woman. She told herself in her practical way that she would wear the shawl, but only until she was comfortable enough to remove it.

This was not the time for false modesty or coy missishness.

Her family’s future, as well as her own happiness, rested on her actions tonight.

“You look beautiful, miss,” Maria said quietly from the shadows behind her. “I am sure all the gentlemen will think so.”

Tina tried to read her maid’s expression in her reflection. Did Maria know about Horace? Did Maria know about her father’s financial catastrophe? How could the servants not realize how dire the situation was becoming—they must be afraid of losing their positions in the Smythe household.

Perhaps tonight would see all that change.

Downstairs in the sitting room her mother admired her new dress, and to Tina’s relief said nothing about the shawl she was wearing. “You look lovely, darling. Doesn’t she, Thomas?” Carol turned to her husband, who was reading his newspaper.

Sir Thomas looked over the rims of his glasses and grunted. “Hmm. Too good for that lot.”

“Thomas!”

“You know it’s true. Most of those young wasters come by their wealth far too easily. They should be doing something constructive with their lives. Put them into my old regiment— give them some discipline. That would keep them occupied usefully instead of spending their days gambling and worse.”

It was so unfair that this disaster had happened to her father through his being too trusting. He’d believed the investment his friend had convinced him to undertake was foolproof, and this was the result. Now he’d grown suspicious and bitter of all wealthy men.

“Thomas, you like Horace, you know you do.”

“Humph.”

“Tina is waiting.”

“Yes, yes, you look beautiful, Tina. Just like your mother.” He stood up and kissed her cheek. “Enjoy the theater,” he added for good measure.

Tina could see that the poor man was trying very hard to be cheerful for her sake.

“Thank you, Father. I’m glad you like Horace,” she added, with a sideways glance at her mother.

Tina couldn’t help but wonder what her father’s opinion would be of a man like Richard Eversham and the way he made his living. Best not to think of it, she decided with a shudder. They would never meet so the problem would never arise.

Just then Charles came running down the stairs and barely glanced at her. “Ready, Tina?” He noted the time on the longcase clock. “We should get a move on.”

“Yes, Charles. I’m ready.”

They walked out together to the waiting coach. Tina found herself considering how much the vehicle was worth, and at what point that, too, would have to be sold, and then she told herself to stop it. Tonight she must concentrate on her quest for Horace and forget about everything else.

Charles was shuffling about impatiently in his seat, and it wasn’t long before they arrived at Horace’s Bell Street town house. Tonight there was a wash of light from the windows and open door, welcoming his guests inside.

It was a tall, grand building and had belonged to the Gilfoyles for many years. Horace, having inherited his fortune so early—his parents had died in a boating accident when he was a child—had lived here most of his life.

Tina took a deep breath—as deep as her corset would allow— and stepped over the threshold. Tentatively she imagined Richard Eversham at her side, and it helped, so she kept him there. Horace was nowhere to be seen, but there were several familiar faces, and she drifted toward a group of young women with whom she was acquainted.

“Clementina!” said Anne Burgess. “There you are, at last.”

“Charles made us late,” Tina said, with a teasing grin in her brother’s direction.

Charles pretended to frown. “Humph. How do you do, Anne? Looking as beautiful as ever.”

Anne smiled back at him. She was a very attractive blonde. Tall and slim and elegant, she wore a royal blue dress that matched her eyes. She attracted the attention of a great many males, without, it seemed to Tina, any deliberate effort at all. Tina and Charles had known her almost as long as they had Horace, and she was always so nice, it was impossible to dislike her.

Unless, of course, she was here because Horace had a special interest in her, thought Tina. How cruel that would be, when she had gone to so much trouble and expense to try to capture that interest for herself.

At her shoulder Richard Eversham told her to show more confidence in her own abilities, and she immediately felt better.

A moment later Horace arrived through a side door, alone, and looking flustered and upset. She had never seen him like that and was so surprised she said nothing, simply watching as he straightened his waistcoat and brushed back a lock of fair hair. An expression of delighted welcome settled over his face, almost as if he had put on a mask, and he strode into the room to greet his guests.

There was a group of young men nearby, and he was soon laughing with them and slapping their backs as if he hadn’t seen them for years. Then he went to the pianoforte and spoke to the pianist, after which, to Tina’s surprise, Horace began to sing, a ditty about the life of a beggar being an easier one than that of a workingman. He sang it with a great deal of gusto.

“Horace is in good voice tonight,” Anne murmured, as Charles and another friend joined him, roaring the words in a less-than-tuneful fashion.

Tina thought Horace was behaving very oddly tonight, but she merely smiled.

Others were taking their turn at singing around the pianoforte, and Horace made his way over to Tina and Anne although, to Tina’s dismay, his gaze did seem to linger on her lovely friend.

“What do you think, ladies? The life of a beggar might be far simpler than working for a living, might it not?”

Tina gave him a doubtful look. “Do you actually know anyone who works for a living, Horace?”

“Hmm, my servants work. Some of them better than others,” he added darkly.

“And do you suppose that they would be better off as beggars?” Tina asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. What did Horace know of poverty? It was all a game to him. He’d never experienced it, not even a little bit. At least Tina could tell herself she now knew something of the misery of doing without.

Anne added her calming influence to the conversation. “It’s just a silly song and mustn’t be taken seriously. We should always remember the poor and do what we can to help. Don’t you agree, Tina?”

“Yes, of course,” Tina said, but she felt a little sad. She had changed. Her circumstances had changed her. She would never be able to have a lighthearted conversation again without this feeling inside her of being apart from her friends.

What would they say if they knew she was about to become one of the poor they were speaking about? What if they were to find out that beneath her lovely and fashionable new dress her petticoat was darned because it had holes in it, and she couldn’t afford to buy another? Or that her slippers were scuffed at the toes, and Maria had colored in the bare spots to disguise them?

“My family often attends charity events,” Anne said earnestly. “I think everyone should consider those less fortunate than themselves.”

The conversation had clearly become too earnest for Horace. “Now, ladies. Champagne!” He summoned a passing servant, and both Tina and Anne accepted a glass. “You both look exceptionally lovely tonight.”

Anne smiled and accepted the compliment as her due and although Tina did likewise, she was certain Horace was simply mouthing words to be polite. He did not mean them. There was no special glint to his eye or smile to his lips when he looked at her; there was nothing to say he found her any more attractive than he had when they were five years old.

Tina drank another glass of champagne, frustrated by the turn the evening and her own feelings were taking. She had imagined having Horace to herself and instead she was sharing him with everyone else.

Richard Eversham, at her shoulder, chose that moment to whisper in her ear.

Why not see if you can turn his attention back to you?

How will I do that? You can tell he’s far more interested in Anne than me.

You know how. Do as I told you.

As she sipped from her glass she allowed her shawl to slowly slip farther down her shoulders until her décolletage was no longer hidden. If her bosom was her only attribute, then she must take Mr. Eversham’s advice and show it off as much as possible.

And Horace certainly noticed.

He looked and then turned away and looked back again as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was he interested or embarrassed? She couldn’t tell, but now she’d begun she could hardly go back. It was time to try her charms on some of the other guests. Why not? What had she to lose now? By next week she might be inhabiting a small room at the Fleet Prison.

With all the confidence born of two glasses of champagne—and Richard at her shoulder— Tina excused herself from the small group that included the object of her heart’s desire and joined the boisterous assembly around the pianoforte. She bent over the pianist to look at the words, giving all those present an extra good view of her attributes, and then joined in the singing. She found she was thoroughly enjoying herself and the company she was in. It was amusing to flutter her eyelashes and touch gentlemen’s arms, and she soon became the life of the party, or at least the small section gathered around the pianoforte.

So what if several of the ladies were staring at her disapprovingly and whispering about her behind their gloved hands? They were jealous, that was all. In fact she was having such a good time that she was a little disappointed when it was time to leave for the theater although it was quite gratifying when several young men asked her to accompany them in their carriages.

Fortunately she had Charles to escort her, as she had no desire to single out any of the young men and have him think she might have any real interest. She was interested in one man only, the husband she was hunting, Lord Horace Gilfoyle.

Actually the theater was a trifle dull after the excitement of the soiree, and she found herself sitting beside her brother and a rather timid gentleman who introduced himself as John Little, a business acquaintance of Horace’s. There were refreshments in the interval, and more champagne. Tina knew she really shouldn’t, but the drinks she had had at Horace’s town house were wearing off, and with them her sense of invincibility where her reputation was concerned.

Of what use is a reputation when you are poor? Let those with money worry about their reputations. You need to marry a wealthy husband.

“You’re still here!” she cried with pleasure. She had thought Richard was gone, but now he was back, whispering in her ear.

“Miss Smythe? Are you well?” Mr. Little was looking at her with some concern, and Tina realized she’d spoken aloud.

She laughed gaily. “Mr. Little, I do apologize. A thought just popped into my head, and I spoke it without considering I was in company.”

“Tina, do be quiet, the play is starting again.”

Charles was giving her a disapproving look, which she found amusing considering the number of times he’d overindulged with champagne and become noisy.

She was tempted to tell him so but as she opened her mouth, he leaned toward her and said, “If you don’t shut up, I’ll tell Mama you were drunk.”

Tina subsided into silence, brooding upon the difficulty of having a brother who only noticed one’s behavior when one didn’t want him to. But it was pleasing when Mr. Little gave her a sympathetic smile, as if he understood completely.

As the play drew to a close Tina found herself feeling very sleepy, and Charles kept nudging her. As they were leaving to go home Mr. Little took her hand and asked if he might pay her a visit and, without any real thought, she said of course he could and, after brief good-byes to the other guests, she and Charles departed.

“What on earth got into you?” Charles hissed, as they jolted along London’s dark streets. “I was embarrassed, Tina.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I had a wonderful time.”

Charles subsided, and Tina was left with her own thoughts.

Congratulations! Richard was still there at her side. You put your mark on tonight’s proceedings, Tina. Mark my words, only good can come of this.

Tina smiled at the passing night beyond the coach window. Yes, it had been a success. She’d started her husband hunting tonight, and surely, very soon, Horace would be hers.