Sin With A Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club)

Chapter 30

Chapter

Thirty

T ina had reached her room and begun to wash and change for the evening. She’d taken a circuitous route back to the hall and was confident no one had seen her. She’d left Richard at the folly.

He’d been very quiet, as if he had something on his mind. Or perhaps, she thought with a smile, he was simply worn- out from their lovemaking. Her own body had a slight ache where he had joined with her, but she didn’t regret it for a moment. And he hadn’t protested despite his promise.

Should she feel guilty about his breaking it? Surely, if it had been important, he would have explained what it was and why he needed to keep it? Tina was inclined to think that if he really hadn’t wanted to break it, then he wouldn’t have. Or was it a bit like her “promise” to marry Horace, something that waxed and waned with the changing situation.

And now that they were physical lovers would Richard try to persuade her to marry him? Well, she wasn’t at all certain she wanted to marry him. Richard was obviously not a wealthy man—no one with money would have a job teaching seduction—so if they wed, they would both be poor. Where was the point in that?

No, much better to stay free and live life as they pleased. They could come together—she was looking forward to visits from Richard and secret trysts, rather like Lady Isabelle. That sounded far more romantic, and just now, after all she’d been through, Tina was rather keen on filling her life with romance. She didn’t think she loved Richard—she’d thought she loved Horace, but now she was sure she didn’t. What she needed was more time to come to a conclusion, and that meant more time in Richard’s arms. Oh yes, she was looking forward to that.

Tina had stripped off her clothing and was carefully dressing in another of her new gowns when Maria opened the door.

“Miss? Why didn’t you call me to help?”

Tina avoided her maid’s suspicious eyes. “I have to learn to dress myself, Maria.”

She hoped Maria might leave again, but the maid came closer, casting a narrowed glance over the pile of clothing on the floor. She picked up a hairbrush and lifted some loose strands of Tina’s dark hair, inspecting it.

“There are a great many knots in your hair, miss.”

“Are there?”

“And it is damp. Were you out in the storm?”

Tina smiled. “Yes, I was. I ran back through the rain. It was very exciting, with the thunder crashing and the lightning flashing. I suppose that is the last of the sunshine now. Oh well.”

Even as she spoke, the wind blew a patter of water against the window, and the view of the garden and the river was now smeary with rain.

“You’ve been with him, haven’t you? Mr. Eversham.”

She thought about denying it but decided there was no point. And what did it matter what Maria thought now? Everything was about to change, and Maria would no longer be a part of her life. She felt a twinge of sadness at the thought; she and Maria had been together a long time. But, hopefully, her maid would find her own happiness with Archie.

“Yes, we met in the folly. Lady Isabelle’s folly.”

Tina had never thought Maria was a hand-wringing sort of person, but now here she was, wringing her hands. “Miss Tina, don’t you realize how dangerous this behavior is? And Mr. Eversham is not a man to be trusted.”

Tina was on the verge of dismissing this comment when something in Maria’s expression caught her attention. She took a step toward her, staring into her face. “What do you know, Maria? Has Archie told you something? Come, you’d better tell me.”

Maria shook her head, stepping backward as Tina came forward, the brush in front of her as if it might protect her.

“Is he a fortune hunter?” Tina demanded.

“No. That was what I thought, but Archie says he has a great deal of money.”

Tina took another step and almost stumbled.

Richard was rich? Then why . . . ? But she put that fact aside and concentrated on Maria. If she wanted her questions answered, then she would have to force her maid—who’d suddenly developed an uncharacteristic reticence—to answer them.

“Then what is it you know? Come, Maria, you’d better tell me. I didn’t think we had any secrets.”

Maria gave her a skeptical look. “You are the one with secrets, Miss Tina.”

“Well I don’t have any now, do I? Come, Maria, please.”

Her maid wavered. “I promised Archie,” she said with a shake of her head, and then sighed and capitulated. “He works for Sir Henry.”

“Archie?”

“No, Mr. Eversham. Well, Archie too, but Mr. Eversham is an important man to the government. He hunts out anarchists and the like, people who might wish England badly. Archie says he’s a hero, but I don’t think he would be a very safe man to fall in love with, miss. And he’s dedicated himself to his work, so he won’t be getting married or setting up house. In fact he’s made some silly sort of promise swearing to remain unattached.”

“Oh.”

Maria eyed her mistress cautiously as Tina walked rather stiffly over to the window seat and sat down, heavily, as if her strings had been cut, and stared out of the room.

“So he isn’t really what he says he is? That charming, careless attitude . . . it’s all a lie? The work he does helping gentlemen seduce ladies . . . is that a lie, too?”

“I think it is a way of discovering people’s secrets, so he can use them to do his work.”

Tina felt herself go hot and then cold.

So he’d used her. How he must have enjoyed it when she came to him for help, believing he was what he said he was, believing him. And he was still lying to her. What had he said? He’d made a promise and he couldn’t marry until it was fulfilled, so he couldn’t take her virginity.

Well that was a lie because he had taken her virginity. And anyway he was married to his work.

Not that she wanted to marry him. He could be as rich as Midas, and she wouldn’t marry him, not now, not ever. He’d lied to her, toyed with her, and she’d trusted him.

“Thank you for telling me, Maria,” she said calmly, as if her heart weren’t one big ache in her chest. “I hope Archie isn’t cross with you.”

Maria was watching her anxiously. “I should have told you before . . . before things went so far, miss. I’m sorry.”

“Well, never mind.”

“Miss”—Maria put a gentle hand on Tina’s shoulder—“you must not think this is the end of the world. Men, they are like dandelion fluff, they come and go, and there will always be more of them to blow away on the breeze.”

Tina managed a smile. “I’m sure you’re right. Now, I might just spend a moment alone before I go down to supper. Thank you, Maria, I’ll call you if I need you.”

Maria hesitated, clearly wanting to stay, and then she nodded and hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

Tina allowed her body to slump a little, bowing her head, feeling the pain spreading from her heart to her throat and her head, where a headache was forming.

It had been a wonderful weekend, and she should remember that, remember the good things and not the bad. In years to come, it would not even matter that Richard Eversham had played her for a silly fool, and she would look back on this moment with the wisdom of age and . . .

Cry?

That wasn’t what she’d planned, but the tears were already filling her eyes and spilling over her lashes to trickle down her cheeks. It seemed pointless to fight them, so she let them come and even indulged in some sobbing and wailing and pounding the cushions with clenched fists. Eventually she felt a little better and composed herself.

After a time she felt able to go downstairs. She didn’t think she’d appear at supper after all, that would be asking too much, but she might search out the library and find a good book she could bring back to her room and lose herself in.

Something to take her away from her problems and make her forget she ever knew a man called Richard Eversham.

It occurred to her that might not even be his name. If he was working for the government, he might be using a false name and actually be called something like Ogden. Or Aloysius Hogfish. She managed a weak smile, but at least that was better than more tears.

“I thought you’d gone!”

Branson came a few steps into the library, glancing nervously over his shoulder, before turning back to Sutton.

“What are you doing here? If he sees you . . .”

“I don’t care if he sees me,” Sutton growled. He picked up a snuffbox from a collection on a side table and tossed it into the air, catching it neatly and then slipping it into his pocket. “He’s a bastard who thinks he can treat me as he pleases, well he can’t. This started off as an equal partner-ship, and now he’s the one giving all the orders. Too bad. I don’t take orders.”

Branson couldn’t believe he was hearing this, but at the same time he was deriving a certain enjoyment from it. He’d also been on the receiving end of the Captain’s fury so he understood all too well the effect it had.

“Heard you took a potshot at that bastard Arlington,” Sutton added with a vicious smile. “Pity you missed.”

“I didn’t miss,” Branson retorted. “I mean, I didn’t want to kill him, just give him a scare.”

Sutton shook his head in disgust. “And he says I’m a fool. Who are you going to shoot at next? The wife? I hear she’s a nice piece, not averse to a bit of rough.”

“I wouldn’t harm a lady,” Branson protested huffily.

“Come on then; you’ve started now, who’s next? I’d love to see his face when you do it. Finish off the lot of them, I reckon, then we wouldn’t have the bother, would we?”

Branson had turned thoughtful. “I might take a shot at Eversham, he’s a swine. Had me in for more questions before, threatening me, shouting in my face. What gives him the right to treat me like that, eh? Yes,” he smiled sourly, “I’d like to put a bullet between his eyes.”

There was a sound over near the bookshelves, and both men froze, staring in that direction, but a moment later a gust of wind rattled the windows and a draft set the pages of an open book on a nearby table fluttering. They relaxed, and Sutton pocketed another snuffbox.

“I’m going,” he said. “His Highness wants me to return the pearls I stole. Seems that these days it goes against his moral code to steal. As I’m going to have to give them back, I needed to be reimbursed.” He patted his bulging pocket.

Branson snorted a laugh. “How are you going to get out?” he asked.

“Same way I got in, through the window.”

Sutton opened it and slipped out, vanishing into the darkness and the rain. Branson waited a moment, and then he left by the door.

Tina’s heart was beating so hard she had been terrified they would hear it. She’d knelt down to pull out a book from the bottom shelf and then became immersed in its pages, sinking down onto the Turkish rug and forgetting where she was.

Until the men began speaking.

At first she’d thought Mr. Branson was speaking to another guest, but then she’d heard what they were saying. Understanding had come at once. Mr. Branson had shot Sir Henry, and now he was planning to shoot Richard. Her aching heart was momentarily forgotten— she might not like him very much anymore, but she wasn’t about to stand by and see him killed.

The book had slipped from her hands and the two men had stopped and she was certain they would find her. As she waited, trembling, she thought of her family and, yes, she did think of Richard. Would he be sorry when her body was discovered lying over a copy of A Sultan’s Harem ?

But then the windows had rattled, and everything was all right again. The men had left, and the room was empty. But still she took her time. She inched her way cautiously around the bookshelves to the door. With a sigh of relief she glanced behind her, just to be sure.

He was standing outside the window, his wet hair plastered to his head, his cold pale blue eyes staring in at her. Like a nightmare. He was the most frightening person she’d ever seen, and as she stood, frozen to the spot, he began to open the window.

With a scream, Tina turned and flung herself at the door, fumbling at the knob and managing to open it and then running. She hardly noticed Branson, his face white and shocked in the shadows; all she could think of was the nightmare creature at the window. He could be behind her, and there was only one person she could think of who would save her—it didn’t even occur to her that her savior was now a cheat and a liar, and she hated him. Clinging to the banister she hurled herself up the staircase toward Sir Henry’s rooms and the safety of Richard’s arms.