Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

Prologue

Miss Debenham’s Finishing School

Graduating Ball of 1837

The fuss over Eugenie and her duke had died down. Miss Clementina Smythe—Tina to her friends—found her heart beating a little more quickly than it usually did. Which was odd because she was not the sort of girl to indulge in palpitations.

Practical, that was how Tina saw herself. Not coldhearted, not at all. She was warm and generous, but there was always that little part of her that sat back and considered the situation before it rushed in. And it was rarely she changed her mind once she’d made it up to do a thing.

“I don’t think my choice of husband will come as a surprise to any of you,” she said, with a smile at the flushed, excited faces of her friends. “I have spoken of him a great deal to all of you.”

“Lord Horace Gilfoyle!” they cried in unison, and then fell about in laughter.

Tina laughed, too, and if it was slightly strained, then no one noticed.

“He doesn’t sound terribly exciting,” Olivia ventured, when they had recovered themselves.

“Or dashing,” Marissa added.

“Nonsense, he’s both,” Tina retorted. “And he has quite a rakish reputation, I’ll have you know!”

Eugenie widened her eyes. “Goodness, I can’t imagine you with a rake, Tina. Do you plan to rehabilitate him?”

Tina raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Once I have him. The thing is . . .” She pulled a face. “He is an old family friend, and he looks upon me more as a little sister than a woman he might fall in love with and marry. I have to change his mind.”

Averil was thoughtful. “It may be difficult, Tina. You may need a seduction plan, a way to jolt him into the realization that you are a beautiful young woman in your own right.”

After that ideas came thick and fast.

“Speak in a breathless voice and lean on his arm as if you’re about to faint! There’s nothing like a fainting woman to bring out the protectiveness in a man.”

“Flirt with him. He will be astonished and then intrigued.”

“No, no. Why prevaricate? Invite him into your boudoir.”

This last had them all in stitches again.

“But why do you want to marry Lord Horace Gilfoyle?” Olivia said. “Are you so madly in love with him, Tina?”

Yes, of course I am! I’ve known Horace all my life, and he’s the only man I’ve ever wanted to marry. The only man I can ever imagine marrying.

But as she opened her mouth to speak the words, she found herself hesitating. The truth wasn’t as simple as a yes or a no. Despite the fact that Horace was almost like another son to her mother and father, another brother to Charles, and Tina knew they wanted her to marry him just as much as she wanted to marry him herself. Despite all that there were far colder and more pragmatic reasons for such an alliance.

Horace was a very wealthy man.

Tina’s father had lost most of their fortune in a disastrous speculation.

Put the two facts together, and that was why she needed to marry Horace. No one had put pressure on her to do so—not yet—but in her heart Tina knew it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. She must marry Horace—which she told herself she wanted to do anyway—and save her family from disaster and ruin.

It was the logical choice. The practical choice.

But she felt an aversion to telling her friends the truth. She didn’t want their pitying smiles and reassuring hugs. Tina had too much pride for that. Besides, they might try to talk her out of it.

“I am madly in love with Horace,” she said firmly. “He is the only possible man for me.”

The glasses were filled and raised once more.

“To Tina and Horace! May they be very happy! Good husband hunting!”

Oh, Tina knew she would need to be very good to win over Horace. Horace who never gave her a second glance except to tease her—if she’d had pigtails she was certain he would have pulled them. But somehow she must make him fall deeply in love with her. Enough to propose. Because surely, if he loved her and she loved him, then the marriage would succeed?

But a man like Horace . . . if only she knew how to begin. If only there was someone who could give her instructions in what to do and say.

Chapter 1

Summer 1838

Mayfair, London

Miss Clementina Smythe inspected the brass plate. Number Five. Mr. Eversham lived at Number Five Jasmine Square. She looked up at the narrow building, its long windows blindly gazing across the square, and wondered which of those windows belonged to Mr. Eversham.

Perhaps they all did, perhaps he was wealthy enough to own the entire building, but she didn’t think so. The word was Mr. Eversham had wasted his fortune on the gambling tables and betting on the races, not to mention ladies of loose morals, and now he was obliged to work for a living. How his blue-blooded ancestors must shudder at that—and the gossip was that he was very well connected indeed although society tended to shun him these days. To make matters worse the work he was currently engaged in was advising gentlemen on winning the ladies of their dreams.

In other words, Tina decided cynically, he was a seducer who taught other men the art of seduction.

His reputation was rumored to be very bad and in other circumstances, Tina would have taken care not to recognize him in the street, let alone visit his address without a chaperone. But she had no choice. She was here for his help. She needed him to teach her how to win the tricky heart of Lord Horace Gilfoyle.