Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

“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 w

orking 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.