Sin With a Scoundrel: The Husband Hunters Club (6 page)

“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.

Chapter 8

R
ichard returned to Five Jasmine Street late in the evening and slept well and rose eager to begin the day. Miss Smythe’s visit was for two o’clock, and he was looking forward to it. In fact his level of anticipation surprised him and made him uneasy. As did his growing urge to warn her about Lord Horace Gilfoyle.

But that was impossible.

Knowing Archie now had a foot in the Smythe household would just have to be enough. Good God, she might already be engaged! And even if she did believe what Richard had to say and not storm out of his house, she might let slip to Gilfoyle the Guardians’ suspicions of him, and that would ruin everything.

Because if Gilfoyle was the Captain, then Richard knew he would stop at nothing to bring him to justice for his brother’s death. Spoiling Miss Smythe’s wedding plans was hardly going to prevent him from taking his revenge; in fact it might make him even more determined to deal with the brute.

After a late breakfast Richard made his way to see Sir Henry Arlington at Whitehall. He entered the building of the Metropolitan Police, using the back entrance from Great Scotland Yard. His superior had a small office tucked away in a corner of the labyrinthine building where he sat frowning over numerous dispatches and snippets of intelligence received from all over the country. Not unlike a spider at the center of its web.

“Richard. You have something for me?”

“I believe so.” Richard explained about his visit to Gareth. “Lord Horace was there at the right time to have had a hand in the riot in Kent.”

“Interesting. And he had no reason to be journeying to Kent, no estate to visit, no family?”

“Not as far as I know.”

Sir Henry mulled over this latest intelligence.

After a moment Richard went on. “The other man, the one who was traveling with him, I’ve never heard of. He’s a businessman, an importer, who calls himself John Little.”

“And as we know, Lord Horace has some rather shady friends. I will discover as much as I can about this Mr. Little. In the meantime, keep a close watch on your Miss Smythe. She may be our way into Gilfoyle’s inner circle.”

“I’m seeing her today at two o’clock.”

Sir Henry gave him a knowing smile.

“In a purely business capacity,” Richard added stiffly, and wondered why he felt the need to justify himself. His relationship with Miss Smythe, business or otherwise, was none of Sir Henry’s affair. But then again, if they discovered Gilfoyle was the Captain, then perhaps it was.

“My brother’s final mission,” he began.

Sir Henry’s smile vanished. “We’ve spoken of this, Richard, and I’ve told you all I know. Your brother had a bad habit of keeping things to himself. All very well to play it alone, but when he was killed, all his secrets died with him. I know he was on the trail of the Captain because he’d told me so several days before, but he died in Kent, near his home. The Captain might have followed him there, or perhaps it was just a coincidence, and he had nothing to do with his death.”

“But it is likely,” Richard said quietly. “It is more than likely that if Anthony was onto the Captain, then the Captain was onto him. If Anthony knew enough to ensure that the Captain hanged, then that villain would feel he had no choice but to silence him.”

Sir Henry nodded, his mouth turned down. “Yes, that is a fair assumption. But it is only an assumption. You need to concentrate on the here and now, Richard. Do your job. Don’t make the same mistake as Anthony and go off on your own tangent. The Guardians are here to help you, don’t shut them out.”

“I don’t intend to,” Richard assured him. And yet, in his heart, he wondered. If he were to discover for certain that Gilfoyle was the Captain, would he really go to the others? Or would he head off alone to take vengeance on the man who’d murdered his brother before he had a chance to set aside their differences and repair their relationship?

Even if it meant his own demise.

On the way back from seeing Sir Henry, he stopped off at Gilfoyle’s town house, strolling past as if he hadn’t a care in the world. It was a wealthy man’s house, ostentatious, with a liveried servant at the door. Why would a man with so much to lose involve himself in sedition and a possible date with a hangman’s noose?

“M
iss Tina. You have a visitor.”

Tina stretched and then grimaced as the lingering effects of the champagne shot pain right through her head. She decided that was the first and last time she overindulged like that. How on earth could Horace and Charles do it night after night? Clearly they were both very silly.

“A visitor? What on earth is the time, Maria?”

“It’s after ten, miss. Lady Carol had said to let you sleep, but now there’s a gentleman here to see you, and she wants me to wake you up at once.”

Tina sighed. “A gentleman?” Not Horace then. Had she really expected Horace to come rushing to her side? She admitted that she had hoped he might, despite its being most unlike Horace to be so impulsive. “Who is this gentleman?”

“A Mr. Little, miss.”

Tina forgot about her head and sat up. “Oh no! I did tell him he could call, but I didn’t expect him so soon.”

“Lady Carol and Sir Thomas are entertaining him in the drawing room, but you are to hurry.”

“Help me to get dressed, and I’ll go and rescue them.”

Tina washed, and Maria helped her into a modest day dress.

“I’ve let it down,” she said, with a critical glance. “I don’t think it shows, miss. Anyway Mr. Little won’t be looking at your hem, will he?”

Tina eyed the darker color around the bottom of her skirt. “Well, it can’t be helped.”

“No, miss.”

Maria met her eyes and looked away as quickly. She did know then, Tina thought. How could she not? They were like a sinking ship, all going down together.

However, there was no sign of gloom when she reached the drawing room; in fact, laughter greeted her as she opened the door.

“Tina,” cried Lady Carol, looking flushed. “Mr. Little has just been regaling us with tales from his travels. Some of the things he’s seen!”

Bewildered, Tina looked at her father, whose face was red from laughter, and at Mr. Little, who had risen to his feet and was smiling at her. Could this possibly be the same man whose company she’d endured last night? He was almost attractive when he smiled, she realized, although he was still barely an inch taller than she, and his shoulders were stooped like a man twice his age.

A comparison with Mr. Eversham popped into her head, but she pushed it firmly out again.

“I had no idea you meant to pay me a visit so soon, Mr. Little,” she said coolly, meaning to disconcert him.

“I was in the vicinity and took a chance,” he replied with his smile undimmed.

“How did you enjoy the theater, Mr. Little?”

Comically, he turned down the corners of his mouth. “It was a very dull play, Miss Smythe. I could barely stay awake.” He gave her a sideways glance, as if inviting her to share the joke, but Tina couldn’t help but feel the joke was at her expense.

Lady Carol laughed; clearly she was charmed by Mr. Little even if Tina was not.

“I was rather surprised to be invited. I’m not a close friend of Lord Horace. We have done some business together, and I happened to run into him a few days ago, so perhaps he felt obliged to ask me to his soiree. I felt a little like an imposter and was rather uncomfortable with all his . . . uh . . . noble company.”

“Ha!” scoffed Sir Thomas. “A perfectly worthless lot! It’s nice to meet a young man who works for his living.”

Tina’s father had become very opposed to the upper classes since his money troubles. Tina couldn’t remember him being so egalitarian before; in fact he’d been rather indifferent to the struggles of the poorer classes, avowing more than once that they brought their misery upon themselves through idleness. Now that he was well on the way to joining them, he’d suddenly become a strident socialist, and it could be embarrassing in company.

However, to Tina’s relief, Mr. Little didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed similarly inclined. “I am most gratified that you think so, Sir Thomas. It is refreshing not to be looked down upon because I am in trade.”

“What is it that you do exactly, Mr. Little?” asked Tina.

“Mr. Little is in the manufacturing business. Tobacco,” said her father enthusiastically. “One of the most useful products of our times, I believe. The doctor put me onto it to help ease my nerves, and it has done wonders for me.”

John smiled. “I don’t actually manufacture tobacco. It grows in the Americas, and I import it and refine it locally in my factory—make it a little more palatable for the British market.”

“I wonder you can’t make it smell any better, then,” said Tina, who abhorred her father’s addiction to smoking.

John chuckled. “Believe me we do our best, Miss Smythe. Do you know, it isn’t just men who smoke tobacco, there are many women, too.”

“I have often thought of taking it up myself,” Lady Carol said, and earned herself a beaming smile from Mr. Little. “Ring for some tea, darling,” Lady Carol instructed her daughter. “You’re not in a rush are you, Mr. Little?”

Tina hoped he was, but he leaned back in the chair, completely at home in their drawing room. “Not at all, Lady Carol. I’d be delighted to join you for tea.”

John Little had been to most of the exotic places Tina had read about as well as quite a few she’d never heard of, and despite herself, she was swept up in his tales. If only Horace would call in and see her enjoying the company of another man, her morning would be complete.

Lady Carol was sipping her tea and seemed to be deep in thought. She had been rather subdued ever since she discovered just how wealthy Mr. Little was. Tina watched her uneasily, only half listening to her father speaking enthusiastically with Mr. Little. Mama was up to something, and it didn’t take long for her to discover what it was.

“We should have a dinner party! It has been such a long time. We could invite the Thompsons, Horace, Mr. Little of course and perhaps Sir Henry and Lady Isabelle? What do you think?”

Sir Thomas looked momentarily as if he’d been stuffed, as well he might. They had been dining on pigs’ trotters and cabbage all week, and his best brandy had been watered down until it hardly tasted like brandy at all. But something urgent in his wife’s fixed expression must have impressed upon him the importance of his reply, and at this point Sir Thomas would do anything in his power to please his wife.

“As you wish, my dear. A dinner party. Yes, hmm, good idea.”

“Mama,” Tina murmured, anxious to catch her mother’s attention. “Mama, there is no need—”

But Lady Carol was well away with her plans, and even Sir Thomas was becoming quite caught up in the idea.

Tina noticed that Mr. Little was entranced by her mother. Was it the fact Lady Carol had decided upon a dinner party, just because she liked him, that had won him over? And to be fair, Lady Carol did like him—Sir Thomas certainly did—but her mother also liked the fact that John Little was a wealthy man, and he’d called promptly upon her daughter after one meeting.

Mr. Little finally made his excuses and left, pressing a gallant kiss to Lady Carol’s hand and promising to be present at the dinner party. He’d stayed well over the allotted time for first calls, Tina noted, but no one but herself seemed to notice or care.

“Tina, we must have some more ladies,” her mother burbled. “We have too many men. Are there any young ladies you would like to invite?”

Tina had lost touch with her London acquaintances while she’d been away at finishing school. For a moment she wondered whether she could ask Olivia or Marissa or Averil or Eugenia, but of course they would be busy with their own husband-hunting plans. No, she would have to think of someone else. But the only name that came readily to mind was Anne Burgess. As soon as she said it she wished she hadn’t. Anne was far too attractive and would take Horace’s attention away from her. So she hastily added Margaret Allsop, who wasn’t quite so attractive and rather more dull than Anne.

This afternoon Richard Eversham must help her with her plans; she needed to know how to behave during the dinner. Surely, he would be able to practice a little dinner flirtation with her. At the thought of it she experienced a frisson of excitement. She was beginning to enjoy her meetings with Mr. Eversham. She smiled a secret smile and allowed her mother’s words to wash over her while she indulged in far more interesting thoughts.

Chapter 9

T
ina was relieved to reach Jasmine Square only slightly late. She’d had great difficulty escaping Lady Carol, now deep into the particulars of planning the dinner party. It seemed no expense was to be spared. Sir Thomas, too, was completely caught up in it, especially on the subject of which drinks were to be available to their guests—“My dear, champagne and brandy are most important. We cannot have enough of either.”

It was as if they both didn’t have a care in the world.

Suspecting this was all in her honor, no matter how they tried to pretend otherwise, gave Tina a squirmy feeling in her stomach. Lady Carol might say that her daughter’s happiness was more important than the family debts, but Tina wondered what her decision must be if it came to a choice between her happiness and Mr. Little’s tempting fortune.

Although her parents seemed to like him very much, Mr. Little as a prospective husband did not fill her with joy. Horace was her first and only option. The pressure for him to propose was mounting with each passing moment.

By the time Tina entered Richard Eversham’s sitting room she could feel emotion roiling inside her, like a great whirlpool, and keeping it hidden was becoming more and more difficult. Practical, levelheaded Tina was feeling very shaky indeed, and as she removed her gloves she was shocked to see her normally steady hands trembling like leaves in the wind.

“Mr. Eversham.”

“Miss Smythe.” He was watching her with his usual warm and charming smile, and in a moment of madness she longed for him to put his arms about her and hold her close.

Tina took a deep, calming breath, but her voice was anything but calm. “I am so glad to see you, Mr. Eversham.”

The expression in his gray eyes appeared a little startled, but his smile remained. “Are you? Are you so in need of my guidance, Tina?”

She meant to give an insignificant answer but instead heard herself saying, “You are the only one I can speak to plainly. Without subterfuge.” She glanced up at him doubtfully. “At least I hope so.”

Richard waited for her to sit down before he followed suit. “Of course you can speak plainly to me. That is because I am of no consequence.”

Tina was startled into a laugh.

Richard leaned forward, still a hint of a smile in his eyes although his manner had become serious.

“No, don’t laugh. It is the truth. At the moment I am your teacher. A mentor. Once your object is attained you will no longer need my services. You can tell me all your secrets, and I promise not to betray your confidences. I have a good many secrets myself.”

Tina decided he probably did. Richard Eversham must be privy to all sorts of concealments by his clients, but if he told tales, then people would soon stop coming to him for help.

And yet she hesitated, her emotional whirlpool growing wilder and even threatening to capsize her.

He merely waited until the words came tumbling from her.

“My mother is planning a dinner party. It is very important that Horace notice me. More important than I can possibly explain, Mr. Eversham.”

“Didn’t he notice you at the theater?”

She considered. “Others certainly did.” And she smiled at the memory.

“Then things are progressing well, Clementina.”

She looked up, into his gray eyes, and knew he could read the confusion in her face. “Why is it so much fun
not
to obey the rules, Mr. Eversham?”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was good and proper, as I was taught to be, I am sure I did not have nearly as much fun as I did last night, being bad and I think rather
im
proper.”

He grinned. “Sweetheart, I think you are exaggerating! I can’t imagine you were improper. Perhaps a little risqué, that is all.”

Sweetheart?
Tina swallowed and put the word aside for later examination, concentrating on his other words. She supposed that he, being an expert, knew what he was talking about.

“Well risqué or improper, it makes no difference. Rather than draw the attention of the one man I want to marry I drew the attention of the wrong men . . . man.”

“And did you think of me there, at your shoulder?”

A warm heat washed through her as she remembered her imaginings of last night and her earlier flirtatious dream. Oh yes, Richard had very much been with her. “I did,” she said a little stiffly, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more.

“And it helped?”

“A little.”

“Did Lord Horace kiss you?” he asked her abruptly, once again throwing her heart into a wild rhythm. The only man she’d been dreaming of kissing was the one right here in front of her.

“Kiss me? Goodness, no! We weren’t even alone, and if we had been . . . well, I didn’t get the impression he wanted to kiss me. He seemed more interested in my friend, Anne, and besides, he was in a very odd mood. Agitated about something or other.”

“Agitated?”

“Or upset.”

Richard considered her, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Forgive me for being blunt but did you
want
him to kiss you?”

Tina opened her mouth to tell him that yes, of course she did! But the words wouldn’t come. An image of herself, clasped in Horace’s arms, suddenly poured into her brain. It was vivid, very real, and strangely unsettling. Horace’s cologne, which she wasn’t particularly fond of, his mouth on hers, his hands grasping her. It made her feel uncomfortable, almost revolted. No, perhaps that was too strong a word. Rather it was how she might feel if Horace were Charles and Charles had suddenly decided to kiss her in a very unbrotherly fashion.

She took a ragged breath. This was completely ridiculous! Horace was definitely not her brother. No, he was the love of her life and the answer to all her troubles. She was absolutely positive that once Horace kissed her it would all be simply wonderful. Yes, one passionate embrace, and all these silly doubts would disappear like smoke on the wind.

“I want Horace to kiss me very much,” she said decisively. “I do. It is just that”—she lifted her chin to hide her sudden sense of vulnerability—“I have never been kissed by a gentleman, so I am uncertain how to proceed.”

N
ever been kissed?

It was too good to be true, and far too tempting a prospect for Richard to pass up. Oh, he knew what he should do. He
should
tell her to use her instincts and all would be well. Then he
should
change the subject.

But the words refused to be uttered.

Tina’s lips were there in front of him, soft and pink and gorgeously lush. He desperately wanted to kiss her, to make her remember this kiss forever, and he was damned if he’d give the privilege of her first kiss to a man like Gilfoyle.

“Perhaps you need me to give you a lesson or two in the art of kissing. So that you feel more comfortable about the whole process.” He spoke as if he was doing her a favor, as if he cared for her peace of mind.

He did care, he told himself. Of course he did. He cared so much that he was willing to bear the brunt of her anger by undermining her chances of marrying a brute like Gilfoyle. Surely that was because he cared about her? Certainly not because he was a greedy fool who was lusting after a woman he could never have, no indeed!

She was looking at him in that serious way she had, as if she were weighing up the pros and cons. As if the decision she was about to make would be one of life or death.

“Tina, do you want to be kissed by me?” he said, his voice deepening. “Purely as part of our business contract.”

“Of course. I understand that. And yes, I think perhaps I do want to be kissed by you.”

Richard stood up and reached out his hand, and she placed hers trustingly into it. He drew her toward him, slowly, giving her time to change her mind although he had no intention of changing his. Her breath was a little uneven, her lips parted in anticipation, and then he pressed his lips to hers.

Soft, just as he’d imagined. He brushed his mouth against hers, but she didn’t respond, simply allowing him to kiss her. Clearly she had been telling the truth when she said she’d never been kissed. Never mind, he had plenty of time, and it wasn’t as if this was a hardship.

Her skin was scented like orange blossom, sweet and fresh, and he breathed her in as his lips coaxed hers, gently but firmly, into responding. Until finally, with a little sigh of pleasure, she began to kiss him back.

Tina’s cheeks were warm. Her arms were heavy where they rested about his neck, her fingers catching in the hair at his nape with a tug that was more pleasure than pain. Her sleepy green eyes were almost closed, shielded by her lashes.

This was no longer a lesson.

There was nothing cool and measured about this. Richard wanted her. Like a bolt of lightning it came to him that, given half the chance, he’d lay her down on the sofa and undress her until she was pale and naked under his touch.

But he couldn’t do that.

If he did, he’d be risking everything, and certainly destroying any trust she had in him. He simply couldn’t.

He lifted his head and gave her a friendly smile to disguise what he very much feared was the expression of blatant lust on his face. Gently, with a hint of regret, he set her at a distance.

“You kiss very well, Miss Smythe,” he said, his voice light and teasing.

She appeared a little dazed and turned away, reaching to tuck a curl of dark hair behind her ear. “Do I?” she said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat. “Perhaps it is just that you are an expert, Mr. Eversham.”

Richard bit his lip. He could start to boast about all the women he’d kissed, but he didn’t think she’d want to hear that, and suddenly he didn’t want to hear it either. Something about having Tina in his arms, her lips opening under his, had stirred surprisingly tender feelings in him.

“I’m certain Lord Horace will find nothing amiss in your kisses, Miss Smythe. He might be a man of the world, but he’d be a fool to let you slip from his grasp.”

The words were heartfelt, and she looked up in surprise before quickly veiling her eyes. But not before he saw something in them that made him long to step forward and take her in his arms again.

And kiss her swollen lips until she surrendered entirely to him.

H
ad she really been kissing Mr. Eversham? Mr. Eversham, the rogue whom gentlemen paid to show them how to win the women of their dreams? And yet, as he had held her in his arms, he hadn’t felt like a rogue. And if she was honest, rogue or not, she’d enjoyed his kisses very much indeed.

Was that another example of improper behavior being so much more fun? That must be it, for surely there could be no other reason for Tina to be suddenly longing to throw herself into Mr. Eversham’s arms and kiss him forever.

Instead she half turned away, and said, “My mother is planning a dinner party. She is inviting a large number of people, including Lord Horace. I may be able to tease him into kissing me if we have a moment alone.”

“He will make certain you are alone.”

He said it with such certainty she was tempted to stare at him but she stopped herself because too much gazing into Mr. Eversham’s eyes was dangerous. She took a little breath to try to calm herself. For Tina, the cool and practical girl, who considered herself a thinker rather than ruled by emotion, this was a revelation indeed. Goodness, who would have thought a kiss would have such an effect on her? For a moment there, in Richard’s arms, she’d been all passion, and her thoughts had grown so unsteady that they’d been flying about like shooting stars.

Still trying to calm herself, she moved to the window and gazed out at the street below.

Get a grip,
she told herself.
This is a lesson to capture Horace into proposing marriage, it has nothing to do with Mr. Eversham. If he thought you were imagining his kiss as something more than part of your business contract, he would probably show you the door.

And she really couldn’t do without him at this juncture.

When she thought she was ready, she turned with a smile. “It is a pity you cannot come to the dinner party and tell me what to do, Mr. Eversham.” Then her face colored as she remembered why he could not, why he would never be invited to her home.

He read her dismay perfectly but chose not to acknowledge it. “I’m afraid I am otherwise engaged,” he said dryly.

Mr. Eversham was a scoundrel. How could she have forgotten even for a moment that they were members of two completely different strata of society? Although, it occurred to her, if her family’s fortune kept declining, then perhaps she would eventually fall far enough to enter his realm. To her dismay, instead of being shocked, the idea gave her a glimmer of hope.

“You will manage very well at the dinner party,” he said with polite finality. “I have complete faith in you.”

Their lesson was at an end.

“You can always flirt with the other men. Horace will notice, believe me. He’s probably noticed already.”

“I can practice on Sir Henry Arlington. He’s one of my father’s old army friends. He’s always the complete gentleman.”

“Sir Henry . . . ? Oh. Yes.”

“Or I can flirt with Mr. Little,” she added with a wry smile.

His smile remained, but there was a stillness about him she’d noticed before. “Mr. Little?” he asked lightly.

“I met him at Horace’s soiree. He is the wrong man I spoke of attracting. Anyway he called upon me this morning. Rather bold of him, I thought, and to tell the truth I barely remembered him, but he’s made quite a hit with my parents, for different reasons. He is a wealthy importer of tobacco, you see. A self-made man. My father is very admiring of self-made men these days, and my mother is on the lookout for a wealthy son-in-law.”

He was listening attentively, and yet she had the feeling his thoughts were far away. “So he’s not a gentleman,” he said mildly.

“No,” she agreed. “My father does not seem to be as strict about such conventions as he used to be.”

She was glad he didn’t ask why. She’d already said too much, and she didn’t want him to start asking about her financial woes and perhaps begin to pity her. Or ask for her fees to be paid immediately instead of later.