.”
“Miss Tina, it’s time to get ready!”
Reluctantly and somewhat ashamed of her dream self, Tina woke up.
Chapter 7
“Miss 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.