Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

“Like telling off-color jokes at dinner?”

Sir Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny, Richard.”

“Well, you know I am unaccustomed to dining in the company of quality, Sir Henry. I hardly know which fork to use.”

“You know perfectly well how to behave,” he retorted gruffly. “You know better than most of them.”

Did he? He knew he should reassure his superior, but there was a devil in Richard that liked to behave outrageously. Which was probably why he enjoyed his current work so much. Oh there were times when it was difficult to be the man no one wanted to be seen with in public, never more so than right at this moment. But Richard knew it was important to his work and revenging his brother’s death to place himself in a position where he was considered not quite a gentleman, a bit of a rake perhaps, and a wastrel. People were inclined to tell such a man things they wouldn’t have told someone respectable.

Because he didn’t matter, he learned so much more.

A nearby group of ladies were sending glances his way, and he was tempted to flirt a little, cause a few blushes, give them something to tell their friends. He was, after all, the notorious Mr. Eversham, and wasn’t that just the sort of behavior society expected of him?

But Richard wasn’t really interested in those ladies; he was interested in one particular lady.

Then a movement near the door caused him to turn, and there she was, pink-cheeked and smiling, her dark curls swept up onto her crown, pearl earrings matching the necklace about her creamy throat. She was quite ravishing, and why Gilfoyle hadn’t already snapped her up was beyond Richard’s comprehension.

She’d only taken a few steps when she saw him.

Her green eyes widened. Her soft mouth fell open. She froze.

Inwardly Richard sighed. If Miss Smythe was such a poor actress, she would never capture Lord Horace. Clearly she needed a great many more lessons.

“Tina?” Lady Carol had noticed and slipped an arm about her daughter’s waist. She shot Richard an unwelcoming glare. “Are you all right?”

“I . . . that is, yes. Yes, of course I am.”

Good, he thought admiringly. She’d recovered herself well and now turned away from Richard to greet her friends. Lady Carol sent him another withering look, as if it was all his fault. And of course it was.

A moment later Lord Horace breezed into the room, laughing, shaking hands, completely secure in his place in society and particularly the Smythe household.

Richard felt his hackles rise.

Sir Henry was quick to introduce them.

“Mr. Eversham!” Gilfoyle said in delight. “You are a man I could have a very interesting conversation with. I believe you helped Peterson to the altar. Saved him from the Fleet just in the nick of time by marrying him to that ugly heiress.”

“It was Peterson who did the proposing, not I,” Richard said politely.

“That wasn’t how I heard it,” Horace retorted, and his blue eyes gleamed with malice.

“Heard what?” Charles Smythe had joined them, clearly eager to support his friend. He cast a look at Richard that was coolly disapproving. “I’m rather surprised you are here, Eversham. My mother wasn’t particularly pleased to know someone of your reputation was coming, I can tell you. You’d better not go near my sister.”

“Now, Charles, mind your manners,” Gilfoyle said with quiet authority.

Charles flushed and cleared his throat, like a puppy that’s been reprimanded. Obviously, Gilfoyle was the stronger personality in that friendship but not for much longer if Richard guessed right. Young Charles was finding his feet.

“I can always eat in the kitchen,” Richard suggested mildly. “If you prefer?”

Charles chose to make a joke of it, laughing with some relief, and a moment later it was time to go in to dinner.

Tina was very much aware that although she had greeted their guests, she hadn’t spoken to everyone. There was one person she hadn’t been able to bring herself to approach.

“Mr. Eversham is your father’s guest,” Lady Carol said dourly, when she’d whispered the shocked question after she first saw him. “Just ignore him. That’s what I intend to do.”

So she had. Trying to understand why he was here, in her house, was too difficult for her just now, and really she couldn’t deal with it.

Anne and Margaret gathered about her, perhaps sensing her inner turmoil. Anne was wearing a pale lemon dress with white lace, which suited her pale coloring beautifully, while Margaret wore a pale green gown, which contrasted nicely with her red curls. Indeed Margaret looked far more attractive than Tina had expected, and suddenly she was anxious about Horace’s wandering attention. But he didn’t seem to notice Margaret or Anne, and once he’d greeted her, he barely glanced at Tina either although she saw him laughing with Mr. Eversham.